after four hours of fitful non-sleep, i decided it was enough self-torture and got up. two hours later, i was back asleep. two hours after that, i was up again and getting ready for work. yeah, i hate tuesdays.
at least i have an evening involving yummy vietnamese food and a gory play to keep me going.
oh, yeah. happy steak & bj day (NSFW), boys.
snow. ice. wind. rain. hail. all on one day. in march. what the hell? this morning, my drive from the apartment to the highway looked like a frosty fiesta what with the roads covered in frozen snow and ice. luckily only my part of town seemed to be so unfortunately coated and i didn’t die once on the way to work.
i’m really tired today. there’s nothing i’d rather do than go back to bed for a week. instead, i get to spend the day doing the part of my job i hate the most and then go home and do all the cleaning i’ve been too busy to get done just in case i get asked to go do stuff this weekend. my life is such a party. rock it, baby. ROCK IT!
ugh.
today isn’t going very well and i need you all to be extra nice to me so i don’t launch into a full-fledged hissyfit and spend the rest of the day hiding in the uniform room while i cry and stomp my feet.
thank you.
oh, and if you didn’t already know, most of the photos i’ve been taking lately have been going up on my flickr account. while i’m battling what it is which is picking on me today, you can go look at those if you like.
i feel like keeping it all to myself these days.
i’m now the proud owner of an original christopher evans photograph. it has replaced the first “art” i bought for my first apartment. the sarcastic quotes are to indicate that no one in their right mind would consider two anne geddes prints of babies in bee costumes art.
there’s something superfantastic about having amazing photos created by amazing people you actually know and consider friends. i’m completely honoured and delighted to have both christopher’s and julie’s amazing creations adorning my home. it’s so awesome there are just no words to describe the feeling it evokes.
i told chris last night that when he becomes (even more) famous and world-renowned i’d be happy to lend the photo to exhibitions so long as it says “on loan from the heather s. logan collection”, since that’s as close to famous as i’ll get for anything photographic.
tomorrow night is work’s 20th anniversary gala event. i’m going to wear a dress and, quite possibly, shoes with kitten heels. i wear a dress on average of once every seven years, so it’s a bit of an occasion on top of an occasion for me. i expect it will also be much fun to take the Seabus over to the Fairmont Waterfront in my dress and heels. oh yes. so much fun. whee!
the world is very, very small place and i occasionally get freaked out when that is reinforced to me by some random happening.
over the last few weeks, i’ve been getting referrals from beyond robson, some ‘vancouver blog’ i’d never heard of and pretty much never read. no big deal, i get lots of strange referrals (mostly for albino porn, but that’s a story for another time). this morning, while perusing the logs, there was another hit from that site and i, on a whim, clicked to see what was going on over there only to find an article describing a guy i grew up, and lived in the same duplex, with.
george faulkner has made good! i think that’s awesome. him and his twin brother gordon are such a huge part of my childhood memories that it’s hard to think of my life from age 8 to 18 without thinking of them, too. their mom was like a second mother/best friend/big sister to me for a lot of those years, as well. our families were together all the time. they tried to teach me how to skateboard and i helped them get girls (indirectly, but i was totally an in for at least one of their girlfriends). oh, the memories.
i’m really happy to see he’s doing something he’s passionate about and seems to be making a life for himself doing it. that’s all i’ve ever hoped for the people i care for in my life. way to go, george. way to go.
i have a confession to make: i’m a picky eater.
it’s not something i try to hide, but recently it’s become a thing with certain people i know. i once tried to create a general “rule” for things i don’t like to eat in order to make it easy for friends or family to grasp my dislikes: anything white, creamy and savoury. not white or creamy or savoury, but anything which is all three i will pretty much refuse to eat: mayonnaise, sour cream, cream cheese, alfredo sauce, cream of anything soup, etc.
of course, like any rule there are exceptions. i will eat caesar salad, which has a creamy dressing, but not regular salad with ranch dressing. i will eat sour cream’n’onion chips, which is a flavour concocted in a laboratory, but not chips with oniony dip. i will also eat cole slaw, which is made with a mayonnaise-like dressing, but not potato salad.
i’m also not that huge a fan of cheese. it’s best as a journey rather than a destination. i like a hunk of good medium cheddar with pickles or crackers, melted mozzarella on anything italian and, of course, parmesan on my spaghetti and caesar salad, but that’s about it. the one time i tried swiss i nearly threw up all over Morgan and any of the stinky cheeses just make me queasy. don’t even try to get me to eat the creamy cheeses like ricotta, mascarpone or cottage. that’s a double-whammy of grossness.
i stopped eating cow and pig for about eight years, not for any likeability issues, mostly for health reasons. now, i only tend to avoid sausage-like products and ground beef (have YOU read fast food nation?). i quite enjoy a nice piece of steak on occasion. i had never eaten a prawn or shrimp which wasn’t deep-fried before three years ago, yet now i love them like crazy. mm, yummy shrimpy goodness.
the thing people don’t seem to realize is that i’m a much less picky eater than i used to be growing up. i am far more willing to try new things than i was as a younger person. dear god, i eat thai, vietnamese, indian, greek and japanese food now. before ten years ago, you never would have caught me even contemplating trying such scary foods.
i know people who are phobic about mushrooms & celery or say they’re vegetarians while they eat deep-fried, battered fish, yet people bug ME about ordering a burger without mayo or greek salad without feta. it just doesn’t seem right, somehow. i don’t have issues with vegetables. i don’t exclude entire food groups from my diet for some random philosophical reason. i’m willing to try new things, within certain limits, but if i don’t want to eat your spinach dip, why do you have to make such a big deal about it? i’m almost 34 years old, i buy and cook my own food, let me eat in peace already.
sometimes it’s better not to know.
nothing but trivial things today…
yesterday afternoon, i washed my car for the first time in probably close to a year; next, i need to vacuum it. i couldn’t do my dishes last night because i ran out of dish soap; i had just gotten out of a bubble bath and didn’t feel like going to the store. if i could, i would go out for dinner every night next week to sate these cravings: greek, indian, chinese, thai and vietnamese. i am in dire need of new bras and new shoes, which means i have to go shopping tomorrow — ugh. i’ve correctly used four oft-misused punctuation marks in this post and that makes the grammar geek in me giddy.
there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being surprised it’s already thursday. not a damn thing. there’s also nothing wrong with waking up in a great mood on a surprise thursday. the sunday from hell seems so very far away now, it’s almost like it didn’t happen. yes, this is my segue into telling you about it. do like that? yes, i am very clever.
as i mentioned, i went out saturday night. i didn’t mention that i had to leave the fun earlier than i would have liked in order to go home to go directly to bed because i had to get up at 5:30 am, on a sunday, to make it out to the airport to pick up my dad from his 7:30 flight. first off, i will admit that i must have lost my airport skills. a 7:30 international flight? everyone knows it takes thirty to sixty minutes to clear customs. i really should have planned for an 8am pickup, but that’s something we’ll hear about later.
i showed up at the airport bright and early at 7am (the plan was to get a Starbucks and read while waiting) and headed straight for the arrivals board, at which point i had two freakouts. first, i couldn’t find their flight on the board. that was my fault, i was looking for “Mexico” and not “Cancun” — no one told me that the Mayan Riviera is Cancun! the next freakout occurred when i finally located the flight and saw that it was delayed… for TWO HOURS. ugh. i blinked in astonishment. i turned away from the board. i turned back to make sure i hadn’t read it wrong.
i walked in a small circle for a couple of minutes trying to figure out what to do. i could hang out at the airport, which is usually fun and something i’ve done before, but then i’d be paying some insane amount for parking there so long. i could go find a Denny’s in Richmond to eat some breakfast and read for a couple of hours, but did i want to hang around a Denny’s for two-plus hours on a sunday? the third and most appealing option was to drive back home, picking up some Starbucks on the way, put some laundry in and putz about online. since i had plans that afternoon, and this wrinkle had put a kink in my timing for chores, this seemed the most prudent option.
so, that’s what i did. i drove all the way back to North Vancouver (yay for daddy’s car!), bought a triple venti non-fat latte with sugar-free vanilla & a pumpkin scone, put some laundry in the washer and then chatted with jamie to pass the time. just before i left again for the airport i threw the wash in the dryer, fed it $1.50 and headed out. i got to the airport and parked by 9:25. the flight was due to land at 9:33, i thought i did pretty good. i sat myself down, pulled out my book and started to read. that was until the slacker with the leg-twitch sat next to me and proceeded to shake the seats in such a random and distracting manner i had to get up just to keep me from launching down the row to throttle him.
i actually love airports. i’m a people-watcher, so it makes sense. all those goodbyes and greetings, highs and lows of emotion. it was great. there were so many stories to observe while i stood there waiting (and waiting and waiting) i can’t possibly describe them all. there were so many people exiting the international arrival door, but none of them were my father. for an hour i waited, watching. 10:30 finally rolls around and i see him come out of the door. hooray! (all the while i’m starting to get antsy because i need to be on the noon seabus to meet up with jamie and christopher to go to the vandigiwalk.) we get to the car, load up and head out. then i hear the horror story of his vacation. the second day in Mexico, my dad get pneumonia and spends all but the last day being treated by doctors and shivering with fever and chills.
about half-way back home (11am), dad’s girlfriend decided she wanted to stop for coffee. at this point, i was starting to get twitchy about time. i still had to still drop the gf off, dad off, get my car started after a week of being parked and up to my house, get the laundry out of the dryer, get dressed, load up my gear and get out of the house by 11:45 to make it to the Quay to catch my seabus. needless to say, i wasn’t at all impressed with the extra stop. especially at Starbucks, with the extra-slow line to deal with. by 11:38, i was in my car, trying to rev it back to life. by 11:43, i was at home about to get my laundry out of the dryer… but it was still wet. so, put another $1.50 in and ran upstairs, swearing all the way. somehow, by some miracle, i did manage to get my gear, clean myself up a little, get down to the Quay and onto my twelve o’clock seabus. phew. christopher was standing there at Waterfront station when i disembarked and i think the first thing i said was “i need a hug”.
the rest of the afternoon was fun enough, though. we walked around Vancouver making photos, eating cupcakes and crepes, laughing and such. it was a good day, but i was still out of sorts from the morning, so i felt like a real wet blanket, which just bummed me out more. jamie suggested $5.99 chips’n’fish at the pub after the walk, so we headed back over to North Van where we ran into M&M, ate and talked. i made him go home early so i could get some stuff done around the house, which i still feel slightly bad about. after walking him to the door downstairs, i headed to the laundry room to fetch my clothes. when i walked in there was a note on the dryer saying “OUT OF SERVICE” and inside were all my still-wet clothes. grr. sunday ended with my damp clothes spread around my apartment to air-dry overnight and me just plain grumpy.
you can see why i’m really glad that the day is just a fading memory now, can’t you?
saturday night i was at jen’s apartment hanging out with cool people, drinking drinks and generally making merry when someone brought up how if men knew how women analyze to death every word which comes out of their mouths they’d probably never speak again. sue, the official ‘old married’ in the group, shook her head and assured us that if she spent the energy trying to decypher her husband’s true meaning from what actually came out of his mouth then she wouldn’t be married anymore.
this whole topic has been fermenting at the back of my head ever since. why is it that we women are always looking for the hidden meanings in people’s (not even just men’s) actions and words? are we so cynical that it’s impossible for us to believe they might just be saying what’s on their mind? are we so duplicitous that we suspect everyone else to act the same (since we can’t possibly be the only ones)? why is it so hard just to take people’s words and deeds at face value without projecting something onto or reading into them?
if someone says something complimentary, do you automatically suspect they want something from you? if someone says something careless, do you automtcally think they dislike you and wish you ill? or, if someone says nothing at all, do you assume it’s all over and done with?
the subject makes me think of the whole “rules of dating” schtick. you know… don’t talk to him every day or he’ll feel there’s no challenge, get bored and move on. don’t put out before the third date – why buy the cow when the milk is free? make him make the plans so he feels he’s in control. decline any invitation not offered two days in advance, so he thinks you’re in demand. it all reeks of deception and bullshit to me and i can’t stomach playing that game. if he wants to be with you, he’ll be with you and all the rules in the world won’t change that if he doesn’t.
if i like you and enjoy your company, as a friend or a romantic interest, i just want to be able to say “i like you” or “you’re awesome” without worrying that it’s going to be read into or analyzed to death. sometimes a declaration of affection is just that and nothing more. people freak out way too easily, myself, without a doubt, included.
i want to adopt a policy wherein i can feel the freedom and confidence to say the things i feel but have held back because of how i expect they’ll be receieved. it does both myself and the other person a disservice for me to throttle my genuine feelings because of the judgements i’ve put on them about how they’ll react. in turn, i want to be able to receive the same from the people in my life without automatic suspicion or distrust of their intentions or authenticity.
big thoughts for a wednesday. i never know just what’s going to come out when i start typing in this little box. whee!
i’m listening to Death Cab for Cutie for the first time. i like it. actually, i’ve been introduced to so much good new music i want to listen to it all. right now. at the same time. on repeat. i think i might have to invest in an MP3 or CD player soon. something i can wear at work while i’m doing tedious labour away from my computer and something i can plug or tune into in the car’s system, since i don’t have a CD player there.
they keep offering me overtime at work and i keep saying no because i finally seem to have a social life and, honestly, i don’t want to be here any more than the 40 hours a week i already am. why couldn’t they have done this six months ago when i had no life? bleh. i guess i should be glad i have the option to say no and not fear for my employment stability.
i spent last night doing all the chores i didn’t do over the weekend because i wasn’t home (or, if i was, i was entertaining or asleep), so i can fly by the seat of my jeans the rest of the week. whee! now i just have to figure out what i can do that costs little to no money since i’m well overdrawn and payday isn’t until midnight Thursday.
last night found me walking around in a not-so-populated part of vancouver, in the dark, with the cold and the crazy howling wind. it was fun to hang out with jen and bill, but holy mother of all that is good and pure it was cold. i actually got wind burn on my very sensitive cheeks. yes, i’m a whiner. no, i don’t much care if that annoys you. my face hurts and looks blotchy. i’m entitled. neener!
my urban infiltration photos have been published by dwellblog today. i got an email from them (i say them because i never actually got a name of an individual during our correspondence) yesterday saying they’d found them on flickr, letting me know they wished to use them today. they called them art! how cool is that?
yesterday’s photo-excursion was AWESOME. we were only there for about forty-five minutes (pierre, you really need another CF card!), but i got a lot of shots i’m really, really happy with. i haven’t had such a great shoot… maybe ever. it’s really made me excited about cameras again, which is so nice considering the block and intimidation i have been feeling for the past few months.
now if only i could feel a fraction of the same excitement about my day job so i don’t hate going to work so fucking much these days…
almost everyone i know is sick in one form or another today. some are just starting the slide, some are on the mend. i’m not ill-sick, but i did something unfortunate to myself in pilates class yesterday and it feels like my back is about to break in half somewhere around the base of my rib cage. it’s not that much fun. then again, maybe it’s just my body’s way of getting back at me for doing nothing but eating obscene amounts of pizza while watching movies from the futon last night.
oh, god. the pizza. ugh.
this afternoon, i’m leaving work early and going trespassing with a fellow vandigicammer, which should be some scary fun. ever since finding (and subsequently losing) a website, years ago, of a guy who explores and photographs abandoned buildings in europe i’ve been obsessed with the idea of doing the same here, so i’m very excited about this little excursion with pierre.
this just might have been the perfect weekend.
not too hectic, not too boring. some time for me and some time for friends. i got some stuff around the house done and had some fun outside in the not-rain. i got a lot of sleep, which i desperately needed, but also got things accomplished. i made someone’s day and had my day made in return.
this week will hopefully not suck too much. there’s serious work things which will keep my stress level high, but i’m driving daddy’s new car while he’s in Mexico this week, so hopefully that will help calm me on my way home at night (although, i’m thinking i shouldn’t get too comfortable because i won’t want to go back to my aged Geo come Sunday). there are no extra-cirricular plans for me except Saturday, so i can be a bum if i need to (which is good since i have two DVDs to watch and send back to Zip so they don’t charge me for them).
i have strange urges to visit Ikea and Bellis Fair while i have a sweet ride at my disposal. think about it, and we’ll talk.
too tired to think.
work is about to explode into a raging volcano of shitty.
who wants to run away with me?
my coffee cup is a mess. it’s actually kind of embarrassing.
due to laundry considerations, i wore and old-old pair of jeans to work yesterday and just as i was leaving to go home, ripped the ass out of them.
if i never see a tempura prawn again, it will be too soon.
i’m actively avoiding thinking about my country’s new prime minister. if i ignore it, maybe it won’t be true.
downtown might not be as scary as i’ve always thought it was.
i’ve been eating the same breakfast almost every workday for the last eight and a half years.
just when i thought it couldn’t get worse, it got so much fucking better.
very tired this morning, i am. straight from work to an evening out with jamie & col (still no links for them until they smarten up), which was wonderful in so many ways. from the spicy samosas to the superawesome hugs, i’m beyond lucky to have such friends who are there for me when i need them. alas, there was emergency laundry to be done upon arriving home, so any chance of an early night for me was hopelessy dashed. i could have said to hell with it, but recently someone told me i smelled good so i didn’t want to prove them wrong by wearing some skanky unlaundered clothes out tonight.
yes, i’m going out again tonight. that’s four nights in a row. two of them straight from work, even. i’m really enjoying all the stuff i’ve been doing, but i really miss just slothing around the house sans pants. is that bad? do i really care if someone thinks that bad?
the last week has been very enlightening for me, in many ways. i never actually recognized i had as much strength of will as i now seem to possess. the only problem seems to be in which areas of my life i allow it to manifest. the things most people wouldn’t think twice about have me screeching to a halt in order to evaluate its impacts, but the stuff i should see swathed in flashing lights and caution tape i’m completely oblivious to. sometimes i think i’m completely backwards.
