boat: maritime rescue! two saved! news at six!
socks: 1.5 for the price of 1
shoes: greasy black angels, $100 off!
food: chicken chili, chicken chili, chicken chili, ice cream
cat: the 15-pound furball loved me for a whole twenty minutes
mom: didn’t get on my nerves. call guinness!
coincidence: talked to friend’s [hot hot hot] brother.
accomplishment: talked to friend’s [hot hot hot] brother.
misc: lipfinity is a bitch to remove. don’t let me wear pink. ever.
conclusions: write when i think it. my mom is cool. workouts must resume.

did you miss me?

on the island for the long weekend. whee.

leave me alone!

yesterday was paige’s day. i blogged nothing but birthday wishes.
today is grumpy-overtired-frustrated-snappish-girl’s day.
i think my tire’s going flat. it’s raining. i don’t want to go to work.

pet peeve: web sites which don’t work without the www in front of the domain name.
odd observance: the chocolate they use to cover almonds tastes better than any other chocolate.
it’s a quiet day. even noise seems less noisy today. i think the clouds are muffling everything, including the blogs i read. i don’t mind. it’s almost cozy.
i’m managing to be productive, i’m looking forward to fajitas & fireworks tonight, and my glasses inadvertently match my sweater. this makes me smile.

i watched santa barbara from its very first episode until the very last episode. i never missed one. i would tape it during the day and watch it as soon as i walked in the door from work. i wanted to marry cruz and have beautiful long hair like eden. mason kept me laughing and i wanted to kick c.c. in the crotch for being such a jerk.
other soap operas i’ve watched at one point or another: another world, days of our lives*, young & the restless*, one life to live, all my children & loving.
* denotes shows i currently watch. my excuse: they’re on when i get home from work.

just a little update on dustin (aka cute electrician boy). seems he’s not only a beautiful specimin of an electrical apprentice, but he’s also the boss’s son. there goes my dad’s admonishment about him just being an apprentice. he’ll own the company one day! *swoon*

i love my new 404 page.

i was up too late last night pissing around with my new cable modem connection. it was funny, the installer made a rookie mistake after installing the network card. we laughed about it. we also talked a lot about linux. when he logged the call, he wrote “experienced user” in the comment section. i might have blushed.
so, yeah. i have cable access. i’m not sure what i expected, but i had this feeling of disappointment when my download speeds weren’t quite what i thought they should be. then again, i did manage to fetch a 132mb file in just over an hour. three months ago that would have taken me three days to accomplish.
as a result, i was basketcase this morning (i still am, actually). i finally got out of bed and went about getting ready with zombie-like speed. so, by the time i got onto the highway, the traffic was backed up ten kilometres from the bridge. it took me twice as long to get to work as usual. forty minutes as opposed to twenty. it’s just the principle of the thing.
then there was fuckwad. fuckwad was driving a bigass boat of a car and he wouldn’t let me merge in front of him. asshole. i drive a geo, for pete’s sake. you couldn’t let my itsy little car in? nooo… the very nice person behind him let me and the car behind me in front of him to make up for jerkface’s greed. so, i’m behind idiot man and i look at the sticker on his bumper. i don’t quite believe it, so i squint to get a better look.
it was a grateful dead sticker.
this struck me as odd/weird/spooky because just last night, while waiting for the cable guy i was reading “postcards from the dead” by douglas coupland which is a series of vignettes based around a grateful dead concert.
then i got even more upset. deadheads are supposed to be laid-back-and-free-loving. not greedy-assholes-who-don’t-let-cute-girls-in-geos-in-front-of-them-in-bumper-to-bumper-traffic, dammit.
but, i’m here. i’m alive. i’m still cute. i’m very tired and guest-blogging over at andrea’s site today. i hope i don’t scare all her readers away. i’m trying very hard to be interesting. which will probably mean that my site will be dull as migraine pain today. if the lack of interest doesn’t, i’m sure my incessant rambling will. someone take my keyboard away. i can’t seem to stop typing!
hey! wait! i was just kiddil92#$20}!@#

i’m saving up for smackeral tomorrow.

why is it that no one ever seems to “fly through” my city on the way to somewhere else? i need to move to some hubbish city so i get to meet the cool people.
oh. wait. this is canada. no one ever comes here. forget it.

well, i may have overreacted. not about the death of my mattress pad or the ensuing trauma. but, i’m rather glad i got out of bed this morning.
after purchasing a replacement pad (they had more. yay!) i stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few items and ran into meghan and mark. we stopped at the pub for wings and a game of cards in the sunshine. it would have been a great distraction if i hadn’t developed a blinding headache.
now, i’m home and my bed is reassembled with new foamy goodness. my house is once again in order for the cable guy to invade my domain tomorrow night to install my cable modem. i’m excited. it will give me something to look forward to while they rip apart my office for remodelling during the busiest day of the month.
oh my head…

well, fuck me. i spent all day yesterday cleaning and this morning doing laundry only to be an idiot and manage to dump an ENTIRE cup of hot, creamy, sugary coffee all over my bed/futon. fuck! hey, at least the foam mattress pad soaked up the most of it. oh. wait. that’s bad. want to know why? too bad, i’m telling you regardless. it’s bad because do you KNOW how hard it is to wring out the centre of a foam mattress pad without getting the clean parts covered in coffee? or, that no matter the amount of febreeze you use, you that sweet coffee smell just won’t go away. no. you probably don’t. i bet you also didn’t know that you can’t put foam matress pads in the washer & dryer without them disintigrating.
FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!
this, of course, means that, after i’ve finished my cook-a-thon dishes, i will be going out to buy a NEW mattress pad. the best part? the one i bought was the second to last one of the right size on the shelf when i bought it. how much do you want to bet there aren’t any left when i get there? c’mon. double or nothing!
i should never have gotten out of bed this morning.

for all that i talk about myself and life here and elsewhere, it’s very hard for anyone to truly get to know me. i don’t express my deepest feelings easily. there is a lot of shame and fear associated with revealing my true self to others.
i’m afraid you’ll be appalled and horrified, disgusted and ashamed. you’ll run screaming from my life, alerting the neighbourhood to the presence of such filth.
you have to listen very carefully to what i say and how i say it. there are very few people who’ve done this in my life. i can count on one hand how many people i would say really get me. that’s why it hurts so much when i realize that i was wrong about someone’s level of understanding me.

he wiggled his fingers then slowly made a fist with his new hand.
this feels real.
he stretched his hand open. he pulled backwards on his pinky finger until the nail almost touched his wrist. it didn’t hurt.
they promised me no pain. i can feel it, but it doesn’t hurt.
letting his finger spring back into place, he turned his head. first to the left, then to the right. up and down. side to side. it felt almost unbearably real.
he slowly experimented with moving each part of his new body. hadn’t he asked for this; to be remade, reborn, in this cybernetic form? why was he surprised that it had happened? why did he doubt it so much? he’d read the research, seen the prototypes, talked to the first, defective, recipients. he’d risked everything to reach this moment, yet he still disbelieved.
how is it that even with an artificial brain, i still have these debilitating human thought patterns?
even in his thoughts, the word “human” was uttered with such contempt that anyone overhearing would have cringed at the malice it contained.
he’d searched his entire life for a means to escape the unbearable existence of his own flesh. now, on the dawn of his new life, he was coming to the realization that it wasn’t his cells which had held him hostage. it had been him all along. the core of him. his thoughts. his mind. his soul.
i’ve become frankenstein’s monster. i’m pinnochio in reverse. a boy made a puppet. why didn’t i see it sooner? now i will never be free.
he would have sobbed then, if they’d built him tear ducts.
i wish i had known. at least i would have died.

i just realized that “equilibrium” would be an entire first or last line of a haiku.
cute electrician boy’s name is dustin. he’s a first year apprentice and he’ll be in school for the next three months. he drives a white pontiac sunfire & wears long, baggy cargo shorts. my source will be finding out other important things such as his age, marital status & whether or not he wants to ask me out.
i look insanely cute today. it must be the mascara.

i was sitting here at work, plugging away, slowly working my way through the mountain i call an in-tray, when i suddenly smelled toast. burning toast. i immediately thought i was going to have a seizure:
“I soon realized that a bizarre sensory phenomenon I had experienced off and on all my life was actually something called a “simple partial seizure.” During these seizures, some people see flashes of light, or smell specific things, like burning toast.”
then i realized it was just someone making their lunch.

my new objective is to ignore the existance of cute electrician boy. i will no longer imagine his beautiful eyes or bright smile while i work. i will not pre-enact scenarios in which we have a meaningful conversation and he falls madly in love with me, pursuing me with harlequin romance determination. i will not go downstairs in a vain attempt to “run into him” just to get a breathtaking view of his brawny frame.
i can do this. yup. starting n… in five minutes.