Thank god it's over!!

Usually I'm demented with joy over the holidays. It's true. I make Christmas cookies and I shop obsessively for ridiculous things that make me giggle to put in the Christmas stocking and I make cards (which if you live outside of handing distance never actually get to you because I'm postally challenged) and I hop around singing awful Christmas carols and generally just make everyone nauseous with my good cheer but this year...not feeling the joy. Not even a flutter. It sucked ass actually. And I'm really glad it's over. I did however feel a little special tingle for the boxing day sales!! Well, the day after boxing day to be precise. Whatever. They were sales and I had the tingle. And it was good. Is that why they call it BOXing day? Tingle. Box. Get it? Nevermind, moving on. I've never been able to partake of the boxing day madness before because traditionally I'm flat broke what with the always being a student and working in a video store or a record store or some other cool place that pays you in lint. Lint I say! But this year...whoa Nellie! I power shopped. One hour. 2 pairs of pants, a lovely green sweater (so soft and comfy you'd swear they skinned at least 3 babies to make it), a cute tank top, another green shirt (not a sweater), a cardigan with sparkly buttons (because I've got to get my joy from somewhere and god knows I love the sparkles! the buttons make rainbows when the sun shines on them for crying out loud!!!), a swanky black top with a satiny collar and some other crap that was lovely also. There may have been dvds involved. HMV had a sale. 3 for $20. I have 2 words for you my friends. The first word is Woody and the second is Allen. I love Woody Allen. I got Manhattan and Annie Hall. My favourite! Annie Hall that is. I also bought Lost in Translation for my nostalgia moments. And that's all. I think. Of course I may have just forgotten stuff because it's all a bit of a blur really. Ordinarily I would just drop my bags fully loaded after a good power shop and leave them to mature for a couple of days and then go back in for a second pass (because I forget what I bought and then it's like a little mini christmas as I open them up! try it. it's good. I swear) but I'm trying to keep my closet...respectable. Yeah. Tell that to the mound of laundry I did yesterday which is currently piled between my air mattress and the dresser. Whatever. There's no joy in laundry. It's never like Christmas. I always remember what I washed dammit. I'm not making any sense at all anymore am I? Okay bye.

Trauma!!

So today my doglet got fixed. Yep. They sliced open her belly and ripped out her girly parts. Did you know that that's what they do?! Because I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I must've known but not really thought about it much but then I was on the internet looking up things I could do to make it easier for her (nothing at all in case you were wondering) and I came across this site that had photos from an actual dog spaying surgery and man! It was wicked gross. Not just gross, or super gross. No. It was wicked gross. And then there were pictures of the bits sitting on a towel after they came out. Like my life wouldn't have been as rich and fulfilled if I hadn't seen those! And then when she came home she was shivering these horrible, bone wracking shivers and whining and occasionally moaning (did you know dogs could moan? because again, I didn't) and I felt so awful for her! So I had a little cry. Because that's what I do. And a little mini panic attack. Because again, what I do. But now she's getting better. But I think I may have created a monster because now she sits in her bed and whines a little, looks at me and then looks at whatever it is that she wants and whines again. And then I bring her whatever she wants. And when she wants to go somewhere she lifts one shaky little paw and sort of pokes it in the general direction she wants to go and then flops it down like she absolutely can't hold it up a second longer. And then I carry her to wherever it is. I'm proud of her. She catches on quick.

So that's my story. Exciting isn't it? I promise I will try to have something for you soon that doesn't revolve around my dog. Or my air mattress. That would mean I would have to leave the house wouldn't it? Crap. I'll see what I can do.

Oooooo

Can I just take a minute to tell you how much I love driving? Because MAN do I love driving! It's true. I mean what's better than the open road stretching before you (wide open roads I might add! God I love the Canada!), good music playing on the stereo (and by good I mean NOT the easy listening that was playing when I got into the car this morning! Sorry mom.) and a nice, solid stick to shift (minds out of the gutter please!)?! I ask you!! It's good. It was such a great driving day today too! Perfectly clear and crisp (but not too cold) and sun shining down on me. It was sweet. Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet. I need to get me my own car!

Ooo...I'm listening to my step-dad talking on the phone and it reminds me...we went to see Meet the Fockers yesterday and it was so frickin funny! Seriously. I laughed until I almost peed my pants. Of course it doesn't take much really because I'm a total dork but it was good. I like a good laugh. Yep. Good times. Barbara Streisand is in it. Which you would think might be a bad thing but it wasn't! Nooo. It was a good thing! Who knew? I mean, I'm a big fan of her Yentil days but did any of you see The Mirror Has Two Faces? Because it was ugly. Really, really ugly. You should actually watch it just so you can see what I'm talking about. I think whoever directed it was a big fan of the Sybil Sheperd, Moonlighting vaseline on the lens shot. Do you know of what I speak? It's not porn. Although it does kind of sound like it doesn't it? I'm going to shut up now.

Okay bye!

I am a Superstar!

It's true. In our thriving little metropolis of Duncan I am now notorious. Seriously. How did this happen to me, the air mattress dwelling, unemployed, former Nova instructor in just over a week's time? Without the aid of copious amounts of alcohol (although let me tell you, a jug of wine in a paper bag is starting to sound pretty damn good to me my friends) or the assistance of any of my partners in crime (Shae, Virve do you feel the mysterious pull of Duncan? Does it call to you? Methinks it does!) With a little help from my faithful canine companion Lilo, that's how!

So, I'm walking the doglet as I often do and we're cruising the downtown sector, because you know how we are. We like to be where the action is. To feel the pulse of the city. The excitment. It's electric. Can you give me a woo hoo!? How about just a woo? Nevermind. Anyway, we're cruising along. We're window shopping. We're checking out the stores where the arty people go (to sell their crap made out of driftwood to suckers who think that beachcombing with a glue gun takes skill) and as usual Lilo is attracting all kinds of attention from the locals. We've got little old ladies with their walkers squealing about the cute puppy, we've got aging hippy women telling her what an elegant face she has (and soulful eyes, don't forget the soulful eyes) and we've got a whole freakin' plethora of truck driving, cigarette smoking, 1980s jean wearin' family types lunging at her with their smoky fingers (she's afraid of these people and alternates between hiding behind my legs and staring off in the opposite direction hoping I think that if she ignores them they'll go away) and then we've got the children.

Now Lilo ordinarily likes everybody. She's a bit tarty if you ask me. But since we've been here she's been a little sketchy. She now has people she doesn't like. And she has days where she's a little timid even with people she does seem to like. Today was one of those days. So we're outside this little store, we're strutting our stuff. It's all good. Then suddenly we hear "oh! the puppy! look it's a puppy! can I pet your puppy!?" in an octave I don't even have words to describe. So I crouch down and hold Lilo out a little so the kids can pet her. They're cute kids. No visible mucus. No scabs. I think, why not? And then...Lilo starts to back away through my legs which we all think is kind of cute and funny until suddenly it dawns on me that she's wiggled right out of her little harness! At that exact moment it also occurs to her that she's finally escaped her nemesis (she really hates the harness) and she takes off running. Not a little jog. Oh no. A full fledged, ears back, tail tucked sprint. So I drop the leash and chase after her calling her name. Fun. She stops. Her ears swivel and she turns and runs back toward me and I think "oh thank god, what a good dog." Yeah. Right. In my dreams. About 3 feet from me she swivels ubruptly and runs directly into traffic. By now we've attracted a crowd of people who are shouting at the cars to stop and at one another to grab her and Lilo is thrilled! She's playing the ever so fun game of "I'll run right at you and then at the last possible second I'll change direction completely and run back into traffic and then I'll to it again! And again!" It was fun. So there we were. Crowd gathered, people running back and forth across the road trying to catch her, cars stopped for about 2 blocks, the drivers leaning out their windows asking "where is she? is she okay? do you got her?" Yes, do you GOT her. I'm not even kidding. And there I am calling her (did I mention she doesn't respond to calling. We haven't got to that stage in her training yet.) and waving my scarf around because she likes to attack my scarf. And she did. But then she ran back into traffic. And then she attacked my scarf again and then again with the traffic. And of course everytime she got anywhere near me the entire crowd would make this noise like they were really tense and unsure of what would happen. A sharp intake of breath kind of sound. It was hilarious. In retrospect. So finally after about a million years (probably about 5 minutes max) with the help of a guy with a newspaper and some woman I managed to get her cornered and pounced on her as she tried to duck between us and back into the traffic where apparently she feels she belongs.

How does this make me notorious you might ask? On my way home I was stopped by about 4 different people in 4 different locations to congratulate me on getting her back.Not to mention the kindly people who advised me that her harness was perhaps too loose and maybe should be tightened. Or perhaps a smaller harness purchased. And a good time was had by all.

Wow. Duncan Rocks.

I went to the mall yesterday with my mom and I have to say, it really rocked. Or should I say "rawk-ed?" Those of you who were upset that I moved back to Canada before you could visit me in Tokyo never fear! Duncan has more than enought to offer! The mall is bookended by K-Mart and Wal-Mart (that's a whole lotta mart for one itty-bitty mall!) and in the middle...deliciousness! There were several stores of colourful knick-knacks that you might buy for all of those people on your Christmas list that you don't really like (plastic wind chimes, colourful candles that smell like crayons - does that cost extra? because it should!), a dollar store with sporadically stocked shelves and surly employees (but really, who wouldn't be surly in their place? and they had jelly bracelets for $1.50), and orange julius with a line-up of 5 of the fattest women I've ever seen all of whom went away clutching cheese dripping hot dogs in one meaty paw and a super size drink in the other (but the drink doesn't count because it's healthy right? I mean, there is fruit in it?!) and one really loud woman in purple spandex pants and a horizontally striped shirt who I overheard giving a younger and equally "interesting" girl this wonderful support, "you tell them that if he fucks with any of you kids we'll come after him because you know you've got fuckin' family and me and ... will come over there and hunt him down and I'll kick his ass myself because you know you kids, no one can fuck with you guys!" I didn't bring my camera figuring there'd be nothing worthwhile to snap photos of but...next time I'll know better. Look forward to some stunning ofoto albums coming your way! Woo hoo! Yeah! Duncaaaaaaaan! Kill me now.

Drunken Duncan

Well, here I am in Drunken Duncan. I have to say this is not my best year. Thank god it'll be over in a few weeks! I'm not really big on the whole New Years resolution thing (I kind of figure you should just do what you have to do whenever it is that you have to do and not make a really big deal out of it) but I think this year I'm going to try it out. Not resolutions per se but goals. Because you've gotta have goals. Right? Right. Okay. Goals. So here's what I'm thinking thus far...

1. Find a job you bum! Yes. A job. A real job. Not a "I have a really great degree and I work at Starbucks job." Because that would be just too depressing.

2. Straighten things out with the student loans. This is number 2 on the list because it's execution sort of depends on number one. Let's not talk about it anymore.

3. Get an apartment. I love my momma and Fred and it's actually good being here but...Duncan. Seriously. Have any of you BEEN to Duncan? It's alright to drive through (you just close your eyes and you're through in a second and if you've got the muchies they've got like, 50 fast food restaurants in a 3 block span of the highway) but to actually stop! And then stay here?! Not so much. And I'm trapped. No car, no escape. Very sad state of affairs. Thank god my parents have about 100 channels!

4. Get a car. This is a biggie because really, where am I going to get the money for a car that'll last for more than 5 minutes? But whatever. It's a goal. And it's mine. They should really make disposable cars. Cars with a road life of say, 1,000km or something and a max speed of like, 80km/hour that cost $200. It'd be great. It could tide you over until you could buy a real car! And you wouldn't have to worry about some hick with a 1982 Buick with double wide doors (each a different colour - one of the colours preferrably being primer) and 6 cats and a fat baby in the backseat with a runny nose and a fist full of candy and a dozen dings and dents in various locations (on the car, not the baby) crashing into it with their Wal-Mart cart and then smashing the side with their giant door. Yep. I've been in Duncan too long already. Could you tell?

5. Get rid of my giant ass. Well, maybe not all of it because then I'd have no ass at all and that seems a little too far in the other direction. But, I could do to lose a good portion of it. A hefty portion if you will. Tee hee. Whatever. This shouldn't be too hard to do since I can't leave Lilo alone in the apartment so if I go out, she goes out with me and she's not allowed into any places where they sell food...no problem. We'll be cruising the streets of downtown Duncan Lilo and me. Non-stop excitment I tell you. Non-f*#&ing stop. :-)

So those are my resolutions. Fancy aren't they? I know, pretty standard and not at all up to my usual par but hey, they're mine. I should add stop smoking to the list just to round out the cliches. Of course I don't actually smoke to begin with so I guess that would be cheating.

Whatever!?

Well, the time has finally come...this time tomorrow I'll be winging my way to Vancouver. Winging. Is that really a verb? How exactly does one wing? Or did I make it up? Maybe it's supposed to be wending? Wending my way? Winding? Whatever.

Have I ever mentioned to you that I don't believe in planes? Because I don't. They defy all Ange logic. Of course so do computers, microwaves (especially when they restore freshness to formerly stale baked goods like magic. Magic I say!) and twinkies (the kind you eat, not the kind that wander around batting their fake eyelashes, snapping their gum and saying "like, whatever." - wait a minute...I say that...). I'm also not 100% sure about dentists.

Seriously though. Who decided that hurtling a giant piece of metal through the air with people inside was a really swell idea?! That was a rhetorical question. I'm familiar with the history and logistics of flight I just don't believe in it. You might as well tell me they have a team of dedicated elves who scamper all over the outside of the plane shaking fairies and that the flight itself relies on the pilot's ability to think happy thoughts. That I can believe. I've been clicking my heels together and saying there's no place like home all day but I think it's all in the shoes. I hoped my red leather stilettos would do (kidding, don't actually own red leather stilettos) but apparently you need rubies. I'll have to work on that for next time.

And hello?! Why is it less than 24 hours until my flight and my packing isn't finished? I distinctly remember telling the happy gnomes that they needed to be finished by now. I wanna speak to the manager.

And now I must partake of the crappy combini noodle action because "I'm as hongry as a hostage." Don't kill me. I didn't make it up, I'm just passing it along. Okay buh-bye! My next post will be from sunny BC - or Drunken Duncan if you're going to be particular about it.

La la la

So I had a meeting yesterday afternoon with Kohsuke's boss and some of the other people from various sections of the company (there are actually 5 companies under the umbrella of the one company - a hair salon, a graphic design company, a copy-writing and advertising company, a hair and makeup person for photoshoots and whatnot and an interior/industrial design company but I don't get to do their website because they already have one) to go over the website designs I've been working on for them and it was great! Zero changes to the look of the sites! ZERO! Woo hoo! Yay me! I don't think I've ever had a project with so many different people involved where no one requested any alterations to the design. It's so good.