Did I Mention the Free Time?

Here we have concrete evidence that some people should just not leave their house. Certainly not to loiter at eye level with my comfy chair in Starbucks. My eyes! The burning!

And a happy little Christmas tree in downtown Duncan. I use the term downtown loosely. Very loosely. But it's a cute little tree. I'm thinking of sleeping under it Christmas Eve since I don't think I'll be having one of my own. (Insert pity here).

And lastly a photo of the cutest silvery star bracelet (and matching necklace and earrings) ever! I know, I know. I just really like stars and bracelets. So it's perfect that way! It's a store in Duncan. Downtown. Just in case any of you are interested...:-) Did you know that Christmas is coming? Tee hee.

Random Cell Phone Pics (because I have a lot o free time)

So here we have my beloved doglet trying to kill me by eating my face. It's our morning ritual. I tell myself it's a sign of affection...

And the above doglet looking very chagrined and remorseful. I tell myself the remorse is because she was trying to eat my face, not because she failed.

And yet another reason why my neighbours are really, really weird. I found this giant bucket of prescription bottles on the landing outside my apartment this morning. So, so weird. There's also a giant microwave that looks like it's about a thousand years old. Just so you know.

West Coast Weather

What is it about the west coast weather that just sucks the life right out of me? I mean, I love rain. I really do! It's great. Okay, I sound sarcastic here but I'm actually quite serious. I dig the rain. But at the same time it leaves me feeling just blah. Like all I want to do is curl up with my blanket and a good book or a movie and snuggle the day away with my doglet. Bring on the hot tea and biscuits! But I have SO much to do today! Aaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhh! I've been up since 7:45 this morning (don't ask me why, I just woke up then and that was that) and this is how my day has gone...woke up, finished the book I was reading (2 1/2 hours), got dressed, went out for breakfast (another hour and a bit), paid my cell phone bill, went to the bank, cried about my lack of money (not really, no crying this time, just a little whimpering - curled up in foetal position on the floor in front of the bank machine, a little embarrassing really but nothing they haven't seen before I'm sure), came home, played with the dog (who is now napping snuggled under the blanket - apparently the rain makes her sleepy too) and have since been trying to muster up the motivation to get some work done so I can paint some more (can't paint until certain work is finished - I made myself a deal). But so far I've just watched 3 episodes of Roswell instead. Oh, and I played Tetris for quite awhile as well. It's been a stimulating day thus far. And what time is it now? Almost 2 o'clock! My day is just wasting away. At this rate I won't have any time for painting! Grrrrrr. Grrrr I say! In the immortal words of Milli Vanilli, Blame it on the Rain. :-) Yes, I know I'm a dork. I'm okay with that.

Ooo, artsy.

I've been painting for hours today and my eyes are all buggy. And wobbly. If they could talk they would say "nyaaah!" I wouldn't know exactly what they meant (nyaaah is quite vague really) but I would appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. I'm painting very blue paintings with butterflies. It sounds awfully girly doesn't it? That could be because it is. Because I'm just a girly kind of girl. It's true. And now I'm very bored and craving pizza. Mmm...pizza. Or starbucks. I'm craving pizza because my friend fed me some the other night and it was yummy. I pretty much always crave Starbucks. It's an addiction. But I'm okay with that. But I'm also very lazy and poor so chances are I won't be having either. Grrr. Grrr I say! What else? My dog is sleeping which makes me nervous because if she sleeps too much now, she won't be letting me sleep later. And how's that a good thing?! And do you have any idea how hard it is to mix the exact same shade of blue over and over again? It's pretty damn hard. Just ask my stupid, streaky blue paintings. They'll tell you. Which means of course that I'm going to have to mix the same damn blue again in an even bigger amount, making it even harder to keep consistent tomorrow. Bah! Whose idea was this stupid painting thing anyway? Actually, now that I'm looking at them I've come to the realisation that they're not even the right blue as it is. They're far too dark for my liking. What the hell?! All that effort for nothing?! Crap. Crap, crap, crapping, crap. Must go. Bagel calling me.

Love At the Landromat

Actually there was no love at the laundromat. None at all. I spent a good hour and a half at the scuzziest laundromat I've ever been to this afternoon. Crazy. And not in the 70s retro-scuzz kind of way. Nope. It was of the shabby, 40% of the machines are broken and the whole place smells of...thankfully unidentifiable ick, scuzzy variety. But it was kind of fun I guess. I like the sound of the washers and driers. It's comforting. And the coin slots on all the machines were fucked up so I had to smack them everytime I put a coin in which lent the whole experience a twisted kind of insiders quality. Like the Fonz and his juke box. But less hip. And they don't mind if you sit on the counters which I always enjoy. What's the point of going to the laundromat if you can't sit slouched over a magazine with one leg curled under you, reading a trashy magazine while you laundry launders away? I do have a problem with the non-stop country music though. New country. I mean seriously. Why? Luckily they slipped a lone Johnny Cash in there along with some Garth Brooks who I have a super secret weakness for (now that I've told you, I'll have to kill you). I should open a laundromat. I would paint it pea soup green with crazy lino with fleck of gold in it. And heaps of flouresent lighting. Preferrably of the humming variety. With maybe a token fake wood wall. Because everybody loves that. Gives it that nice rumpus room circa 1972 kind of feel. Not that I would really know having been born in '74. But hey, I watch a whole lot of movies so I'm pretty comfortable with my interpretation of the whole era. And I'd play really off the wall, random music. A little disco here, a little Depeche Mode there. You'd just never know. It'll be sweet. You'll see.

Woo hoo! Yay Me!

I finally made it off the couch and into the gym. Yay! It's so damn hard for me to get there but once I'm through the door it's good. And by good I mean ow. And not in the ow! get down! disco kind of way. I mean in the, oh my god I can't move kind of way. But that's okay. I'm feeling the burn. I don't even know what that means. I think I'm feeling the light headed endorphin rush thing. And now I'm suddenly feeling the hunger. Oh my god I'm hungry. And there's a bagel and some soup in the kitchen with my name on them! Shut up Senor.

Bah!

Holy crap am I just NOT feeling motivated! What's that all about? Who knows. On my way home from work I stopped at the gym (dragged my sorry ass in from the car, so not feeling the love) only to discover that I hadn't brought all of my gym clothes. Aw. Too bad. So I hopped back into my little car (did I detect a slight spring in my step on the way out?) and zipped home to collect the rest of my gym gear. That was about half an hour ago. And here I sit. On my couch, in my gym clothes trying desperately (if one can be truly desperate when this unmotivated) to muster up the energy to cruise on back to the gym. I just don't know what my problem is. Bah!

I Like to Babble. Just in Case You Didn't Notice.

So I went on this roadtrip last month with the Senor and it was good. Who knew? I'd never been on a roadtrip before but I always had a sneaking suspicion that I'd like it. And so I did. But that's not the point. What is the point you might ask? Good question. How about I love northern California? Because I do. California is good. Real good. Lost Boys, David Bowie's Labrynth package and a pint of chocolate fudge Haagen Daaz good as a matter of fact. If you don't know what I mean by that I just don't think I can even explain it to you. Where else can you get a yummy burrito from a van on the side of the road for $2? Okay, probably lots of places but I've never been to them either. And sand dunes! I'll admit I wasn't a big fan of the particular sand dunes we wandered into but I can see how in different circumstances they could be awesome. Full of sandy goodness. And waves. We have no waves like the waves I saw in California. They were very wavey. And wet. It was good. And boardwalks! Okay, we didn't actually go anywhere with boardwalks but I'm watching the Lost Boys right now and the boardwalk thing is looking pretty damn good to me. Maybe boardwalks circa 1987 would be more precise. Who doesn't love the 80s? Oh right. Anyone who was old enough to actually experience it outside of elementary school. Fair enough. And now I'm bored and rambling and my feet are very, very cold so I'm off to have a bath. Again. Have I mentioned that my apartment is cold?

Grrr...

I'm very cranky that I get no comments other than spamminess. Not fun! Unfun! Make with the fun! Hello fun?

Motivation?

I've completely lost all motivation. I don't know where it is but it's definitely not under the bed because I just looked. And then I lost the motivation to look anymore. Ha ha. Un-motivated but still damn funny. It's got to be the overwhelming gray blahness of the weather that's sucking the life out of me. I have a ton of work to do for the college - freelance design stuff for the residences, a questionnaire for the alumni association, a grade summary for my class not to mention everything I need to get done for my grad school applications! Grrrr! And I've just had 3 days off in a row (okay, I had to go in to do a bank deposit one of the days but really that was a 3 hour excursion including travel time) and still I've accomplished nothing! Nothing! Well, yesterday I did a painting. Actually it's 3 little canvases but one painting. I think I might even like it. But I almost didn't finish that either as it was frustrating me a whole lot so I gave up and went off to the coffee shop to do some reading for my grad school stuff which I lost the motivation for after an hour. ONE hour. What the hell?! I was diligently reading and making happy notes for later reference and after an hour I'd only made it through the introduction to the damn book! It's like my brain has turned to mush. I might as well go get me some acrylic nails and frosty highlights right now because there's nothing left for me from an intellectual perspective. And my stomach hurts. Because of the crunches. Because the trainer at my gym is obviously trying to kill me. Alot. I'm only motivated to go to the gym because I'm afraid if I don't show up they'll come looking for me. Scary group. :-) Oh god. Now I have to go have a shower and get ready because today is another big banking day. Why does the shower have to be so far away? Could someone come and drag me over to the bathroom? I think I could manage it from there. No? What kind of friends are you people?!

I Hate November

It's true. November is pretty damn bleak. There's the weather...not so good. Cold and gray and damp. Blah. Blah I say! And Friday is the one year anniversary of Kohsuke and I separating which gives me some mixed feelings I must say. I mean, I'm glad that it's coming to an end finally because there's nothing more annoying than things dragging on long after they're done, but at the same time, I miss having him around. Or maybe not him specifically, but someone. Okay, I'll admit it, he was pretty damn funny. I miss the laughing. The laughing was good. But more than that I miss the feeling of having someone to snuggle up with when I'm feeling blue. Lilo's pretty great in that capacity but she's just so little. And she has disgusting breath. A definite drawback that. :-)

Still Bored

Okay, we're definitely in California now. In the best diner in the universe.




See. Does it get any better than this?




And who doesn't love a giant lumberjack and his big blue ox? Check out the sack on that thing. It's hung!




Look! Wild elk! Cool.

I Am So Bored...B-O-R-D!

Because who doesn't love shark petting?




And here is this beautiful ocean view from our hotel in...somewhere I can't remember the name of. I think it was California. Or it might have been Oregon still. I'm not so good with the remembering.




And here I am with big rocks, mist and a whole lot of cold dampness. It was cool!

Sad Little Tart

And no I'm not talking about me! I was in Tim Horton's today (shut up, they have really good steeped tea!) and there was this trio of tarty tarlets (I'd guess about 14-ish, you don't get to be a real tart until at least 17) in the line ahead of me which really isn't anything out of the ordinary (I do live in Duncan). You know the type, tight low-rise wal-mart brand yoga pants, cropped extra tight hoodie, teeny tiny tank top underneath (I'm still wearing my scarf and I'm inside!) and platform sneakers. Who wears platform sneakers? Where do you even find platform sneakers after 1995? But anyway, I'm hanging out in line feeling vastly over-dressed for the occasion when suddenly tarty tartlet number two turns around and I had to almost bite off my own tongue to stop from laughing outloud. Because I'm not a very nice person. But seriously, this poor little tartlet had more hickeys than I've ever seen on one person, at one time in my entire life. And I've had some seriously tarty friends in my time. I lived in Sayward! I was going to say there were a zillion of them but then I figured it would be better if I had an actual number. So here it is...9. Nine hickeys! Now, I'm not a prude. I'm not. I'm not a turbo slut by any means but I'm not often mistaken for a nun either but I was shocked. Shocked I tell you! Who wanders around with a low-cut tank top and an unzipped hoodie with a zillion icky hickeys? Who?! Try saying icky hickey 10 times fast. I just did and it was fun. So there you go. I love Duncan.

More From the Roadtrip

Yep. It's me. Twice. The girl so nice you had to see twice. Ha ha. Clever too. Why am I single? And some stuff along the coast of Oregon. Have I mentioned that I love Oregon? Because I do.

Next Post!

This post was going to be about men and my apparently irrelevant (or is it invisible?) fabulousness (apparently I'm becoming a tad bitter in my encroaching spinsterhood) but it's just too damn depressing for my liking and bitterness just so doesn't suit me, so I'm going to post some random photos instead.

First is my ridiculously adorable puppy baby Lilo who is evidently mightily suspicious of the bath.

And then a window of random dead things that are apparently considered food in some parts of the world. Such as Chinatown in San Francisco. Next time I will sample the squid-like thing on the right. Mmm. Squid-like.

Grrrr-ad School Hunting Sucks Ass!

Yep. It's true. Grad school hunting really does suck. I mean, the grad schooly-ness and potential swanky job having is all good but the actual hunting with the searching and the applying and the headaches, not so much. I suppose if one had a really clear idea of what one wanted to do with ones life it would be a little less headachy but when it comes to the flighty schizo decision making machine that is me...anybody got an asprin?

I'm looking at programs at UBC, SFU, NSCAD, Concordia (but that one may not work out...I'm not sure if they have a french language requirement or not...McGill does but I'll just have to see), and Goddard (which I really can't afford). I think there was another one but my list is on the other side of the apartment and I'm too damn cold to get up and get it. It's cold in my apartment. Brrr. I don't like the cold. I need a hot tub. Or a tub with jets in it. Jets are nice. I miss my tub in Japan. It didn't have jets but when you got into it the water came up to your neck and it had this swanky reheating feature that made for hours of steamy hot bathing fun. And I mean that in the non-pervo actual bathing way. It was sweet. My bathtub here is shallow and ugly and needs some refinishing but I do dig my floaty rubber duckie stopper thingy. It's yellow. But it doesn't squeak which is a drawback.

But yes, cold. I have this fake fireplace that my landlord bought me because I was whining about the cold with the icicles for fingers and the super chilly nose. Not to mention my poor little toesies. What did they ever do to deserve this kind of treatment!? The building is pretty old (but charismatic in a faux California style kind of way) and the radiators are apparently on some sort of automated system that kicks in just after I leave for work in the morning and again just before I come home. Okay, maybe they also kick in at night a little (like now but I'm still damn cold so they're pretty much dead to me anyway) but whatever. Logic has no place in my world. So yes, faux fireplace. It rocks. I'm looking into getting a fake bear skin rug to put on the floor in front of it. Then my den of loooove will be complete. Oh wait, fake bear skin rug and semi-nekkid man in loin cloth. Can't have one without the other! Which leads me to my next post...

Change is Good?

So I've been hanging out in my head, mulling things over, kicking my thoughts around and I've decided I'm in need of some major life changes. Yep. But the thing is that as my life gets better (because in a lot of respects it is indeed getting better) the areas I'm able (or maybe just willing) to make major changes to are getting smaller and smaller. Or is it lesser and lesser? Whatever. Not so many areas. Can't move far away (as is my natural inclination) because I've now got this career thing on the go with the teaching and the whatnot (not to mention the actually maybe being able to put myself through grad school thanks to the swanky teaching wages). Can't even move not so far away as my teaching is in Nanaimo and my restaurant job is in Victoria where I can't find a place to live with my puppy that I can afford (and still afford grad school). Can't do anything crazy to my hair because I already got it cut this morning and there's really not all that much of it left to work with. Besides, I like my hair. It's shiny and pointy at the ends. Can't redecorate because I'm poor (the really swanky wage thing doesn't kick in until January and all that money is so spoken for already - stupid grad school). Can't get myself a super hot boyfriend to distract me because well, the reasons are far too many and much too pathetic to list here. Piercings are out because of the restaurant. Tattoos are out because of the cost. So really, what's left? I could become a vegetarian. Nah, I'm a carnivore (have you seen my teeth? So obviously for the rending and tearing of flesh). I could learn to ride a motorbike! But somehow I don't think giving me the capability to speed more than I already do is a really good idea. New friends? I like my friends! Grrr. Hobby? Not really a major life change is it? Unless of course it's skydiving or croc wrasslin' or some such thing. So that's where I am. Stuck. Stuck, stuck, stuck. And not precisely happy but not precisely unhappy either. Mostly just waiting for everything to come together so I can move forward with whatever it is that I'm doing. What was that again? And in the meantime, what to do now?

Fucking Nickelback!

Is Nickelback the only canadian band? Seriously? Did some unholy calamity strike and wipe out every single other canadian band in the universe (except of course for Celine Dion, Shania Twain and Brian Adams who make up the evil and obviously undefeatable unholy trinity of canadian superstardom) while I wasn't looking? I know that there is a requirement for canadian content on radio programs and I applaud that quota wholeheartedly but must it be filled almost exclusively by Nickelback and their various clones?! Aaarrgggghhhh! Why do the radio people hate me so? Could we not just have an all Nickelback hour say around 11am and they could get it out of their system while I'm safely at work and then move onto better, less soul numbingly boring music for the rest of the day? Am I even spelling Nickelback right? Do I really care? Leave it to me to ask the big questions people. That's right. The really big questions. If Chad Kreuger choked on his own tongue while recording would the radio people play it? Would anybody really mind?

Stupid Internet!

Sometimes I think that having the internet at home (as I now do because ain't I fancy) is a curse. Just a little bit. You see, before I had the internet at home it was a bit of an ordeal to check my messages. Not an ordeal of crashing on a mountain top and having to eat your friends to survive proportions of course but an ordeal nonetheless. More along the lines of getting takeout fries and then not realising they didn't put ketchup in the bag until you get home and you don't have any there so you have to go out and get some but by the time you do the fries will be cold so you eat them sans ketchup because cold fries are icky and there's no way to reheat them without losing the crispy goodness. You see what I'm saying? Who am I kidding? I don't even see what I'm saying. I've been working on this damn computer too long today. My brain is all mushy and ick. And now I want fries. But anyway, an ordeal. And now it's so handy what with my cute little laptop sitting here on my swanky retro coffee table (it really is both swanky and retro not to mention oddly shaped and I love it) all internetty and whatnot. So I check it all the time. And when I say all the time I mean ALL the time. I'm obsessed. I thought I was obsessed with my cell phone but that's nothing compared to this. And the thing about being obsessed with a communication device of this nature is that it's ultimately a big let down. I mean, before when it was all ordealy and I didn't check all the time I always had a zillion messages in my inbox and it was all exciting and I was feeling the love but now...nope. No way. Sometimes I have zero messages in the inbox. ZERO! And where's the love in that? Nowhere that's where! And it saddens me. I'm crying on the inside. Not on the outside because my eyes are really dry and burny feeling right now and not making with the tears. Stupid computer. The flesh, it burns!

So, in conclusion: home internet, while convenient = bad. Bad I say! Except for when it's good. Which is sometimes. But let's not talk about that now. You know what else is bad? My retarded little dog barking at absolutely nothing for no good reason at all. She's a small dog with a surprisingly loud and annoying bark that just echoes and echoes and makes with the stabbing pains in the ears and then the bleeding. Ouch. Not real bleeding mind you. Metaphorical bleeding which is almost always better than the real kind. Stupid ears.