29 June, 2006

important news flash

to be honest, if you find the following important, well, let's just say your life might be dull. uneventful. pathetic, even.

you will notice i have changed my template in a desperate attempt to add a bit of "class" to my blog. and yes, i used the quotation marks with a deep sense of irony. but i didn't do the finger-quote thingy because that would be silly - you can't see me waving my fingers about. ahem. can you? anyways, that's news item one.

in a related news story - yay! i now have links. except i don't have any links set up yet. if you wait until i return from my weekend away, i will link up to all manner of strange and amusing websites (i just made a typo and spelled amusing with a "z" instead of an "s" and you know what? the result was oddly amusing! try it!)

in yet another related news story that is really more of a human interest tid bit, i ran into a blog by someone from autralia (when "researching" my whiteback blog) in which she mentioned visitors from canada who reeked of moose and maple syrup. i didn't like that all that much. i almost felt like writing to her, hey you! australian girl! we canadians protest! we do NOT under ANY circumstances smell like moose and maple syrup. and we NEVER reek. we do, however, occasionally, after a good weekend, smell like beaver and beer. HA HAHA HAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAA HA!!!!! good god, i kill me. this felt even better than the richard marx comment in my profile. get it? beaver and beer? aaah, go home.

pink plastic barbie breasts!!!!!!!

this post has nothing whatsoever to do with the aforementioned pink plastic barbie breasts, but i thought it might grab someone's attention, plus i am oddly certain that someone will be googling that one soon, and thus will be led to me. of course what i would want with anyone actually googling "pink plastic barbie breasts" is beyond me. but hey, as of now i have a confirmed audience of 5 (count'em - FIVE!!!) and i wouldn't mind filling in the bleachers somewhat. so that's that. PINK PLASTIC BARBIE BREASTS!!!! HURRAY!

so i've been reading a lot of blogs lately (also, i've been starting far too many sentences with "so", but this is my blog and i am the supreme queen of its universe) and i am now in the habit of checking their latest posting before resuming my reading of their past (like some confused and yet strangely successful psychic). but what i've found is that i also come to my blog and check if anyone has posted anything interesting, and, goshdarn it all to heck, more often than not, they haven't. why not? why is no one writing my blogs for me? huh? then i could relax, sleep better, not obsess about witty sentences at 3 am, and still have a formidable output. how about just 50/50? anyone? no?

ok, then. we're off to montreal for the jazz festival and odd canada day celebrations - odd because we'll be celebrating my beloved country in the province that, for some strange reason, wants to separate. go figure. that'd be like celebrating happy body day on the hand that's about to be amputated. didn't you just love that analogy? so elegant, so clear, so very very true to life? keep coming back, there's plenty more where that came from.


28 June, 2006


first of all, let me be perfectly clear - i am not up on the latest. i am not even up on the late. i am just not up, ok? i don't listen to indie rock (unless it's by accident, or ckua plays it, or something), i have no clue what emo or twee mean (if you do, feel free to let me know, i am kinda curious, though obviously not enough to actually google it or anything) but i do like my music and so i thought i'd share with y'all songs/singers that i like, in no particular order. obviously, celine dion will not be making the list this year, but don't despair, embarassing confessions are definitely forthcoming!

1. "closer" by nine inch nails
this song was always played right before last call at the whitecourt bar that i frequented in my demented 20's, and by then i was always smackered and dancing on speakers. i love this song. the lyrics "i wanna fuck you like an animal" always prompt me and mister monkey to insert unlikely animals such as "i wanna fuck you like a hedgehog" or " i wanna fuck you like a lake trout" and much hilarity ensues. plus it's a good song.

2. "major tom" by peter schilling
this is an 80's song, and it invariably makes me all misty-eyed for whatever reason. i love its melody and it has a happy ending, i think.

3. "toxic" by britney spears (i told you there'd be embarassing confessions!)
you can bite my big furry butt - i like this song. it has a good rhythm, it makes me move, and it hearkens back to the days before brit's downward spiral to complete white trashiness, although as i listened to it today it sounded like she's singing it to her cheetos. but i luurve it, so there! well, maybe not "luurve" but sorta like, thank you very much.

4. "free falling" by tom petty
this song is pure summer, driving down whyte avenue with the windows rolled down, sparkles on my skin, sunlight in my hair. it is a song that never fails to make me feel happy on the inside. perhaps i should listen to it more. a lot more.

5. "so long marianne" or "this waltz" by leonard cohen
pretty much anything by leonard cohen makes this list, but i really love these two songs. "marianne" reminds me of driving down ontario' s back country roads with my mom, singing along loudly, in a small island of peace in the turbulence that was our relationship at that particular time. "this waltz" has the line "my mouth on the dew of your thighs" and i just think that's very sexy.

6. "a sorta fairytale" by tori amos
i like most of tori, and recently saw her at the j.pritzker pavilion in chicago. so why choose this song? dis song is purdy, and det's why i likes it. ok?

7. "hotel california" by the eagles
because it's a friggin classic! and mister monkey and i really enjoy belting it out when we are driving somewhere.

8. lhasa
anything by this singer is beeeoooteeefool. she sings in spanish, french and english and her voice is unbelievable. she looks like a 14 year old girl and sounds like a woman. so check her out. please!

9. neko case
this is to improve my street cred. just kidding. i have no street cred. plus what do i know about neko's current hipness factor? but i like her music. i generally like music that sounds all echoey (is that even a word?) and hers is that. plus good.

10. the doors
because they rock! and i love the organ that sounds like a blue haired church lady rocking out.

11. "it's no good" by depeche mode
it's my favourite dm song, it's sexy and dark and slightly creepy in a stalker-ex-boyfriend kind of way, plus, and this is important, it makes me want to put on a metallic bikini, kick ass high heels, a fur coat and go to a club. which means it's a good song, in my book.

12. martin sexton
this man was my favourite singer for the longest time. to see him live is an experience not to be missed. pretty much any song from his "black sheep" album does it for me.

13. "creepin' in" by norah jones and dolly parton
i dare you to listen to this and not tap your toes. come on! i dare ya!

14. thievery corporation
loungey, chill-outy, jazzy, cool... which pretty much also sums me up (snurf!)

15. emiliana torrini
you'll remember her from "gollum's song", from lord of the rings. no, that was not bjork. but, yes, emiliana is from iceland. i just bought her latest cd and find it a wee bit slow, but her previous repertoire included a sweet song about masturbation and a song about cross dressing. she's like a less freaky bjork, and i doubt she'd ever wear a swan. but i could be wrong about that.

so there you have it. there's lots more where that came from, but my brain has had enough. please note, that unlike most interesting bloggers (oooh, am i being presumptious or what!), i have given you a list composed almost entirely of STUFF YOU CAN HEAR ANYWHERE! no esoteric indie bands for me! not because i don't like them, but because, frankly, i don't get out much and at this point have no friends to introduce me to cool things.

oh yes, before you run out and purchase the britney spears collection in its entirety, just remember - i only like the one song. ok? don't say i didn't warn ya!

27 June, 2006

some more world domination news

what really annoys me is when you make a general, off-hand, tyrannical type comment, like, say, all annoying people should be shot or something to that extent, people immediately go all irrational on your ass and start to ask truly stupid questions such as who's gonna decide? huh? whaddya mean "who's gonna decide?" ME! you think i'd plan a light culling of the human population and leave the decision to, i don't know, dick cheney*? what kind of madwoman do you take me for? jesus, people. when it comes to these kind of things, i am perfectly willing to decide. truly. don't you worry your purdy little heads about it, mean mommy will take care of it all. when you wake up, the world will be a better place, and you will have absolutely no blood on your hands. unless you've been picking at your scabs again. which is just gross.

* if you click the cheney link, look at the URL - it's pretty freaking funny.

moi in vieux québec

 Posted by Picasa

mister monkey and the bicycle shop

i should have thought the title was fairly self explanatory. oh yeah - that's quebec city. Posted by Picasa

ikea kid furniture goes urban

moi, on a large orange bench in vieux montréal. i thought my shiny lellow purse and sexy lellow sandals made for a lovely composition, non? Posted by Picasa

just sharing

yo, so i'm sitting here filing my feet after our week-long camping trip to quebec, and i am amazed at the amount of dead skin my feet generate. i am like those south american pygmy jungle people who don't need to wear shoes. i grow my own soles! if only i could change them according to need. you know, have in-grown, sexy high-heels for the weekend outing, a nice firm grippy sole for a hike on the niagara escarpment, euro-style sensible walking sole for those trips to toronto. i just looked down and saw a pile of what looks suspiciously like sawdust on the floor. if i was the vacuuming type i'd go get the machine now, luckily i am not, so i'll just kick it under the armchair, where it will linger until we move (or i can be motivated to wash the floors for the mother-in-law's visit - not likely). but i've told myself that i will read mimi smartypants until i finished smoothing my feet and there seems to be no end in sight, unless, captivated by mimi, i have scraped through the meat and am now filing the bone, which would go a long way to adequately explaining the disturbing hugeness of the pile of sawdust at my feet. just thought i'd share.

convenient AND fun

our shitty apartment has one good feature - it has windows on three sides of the building which, theoretically at least, though not in the least in practice, allows us to air it out and cool off when it is hot. alas, and alack, one of the windows, the kitchen one, lacks a screen. this generally annoys because i get flies in my kitchen, walking their tiny little poo-infested fly feet all over my food, but whatever. apparently living an overly sterile life makes you more susceptible to scary super viruses, so i'll chalk this up to training for the upcoming avian flu pandemic. up yours, you paranoiacs with your antibacterial soap! dumbasses! ALL soap is antibacterial!

but, as is perfectly normal for me, i digress.

so i was having a really bad day one day: pms, crankiness, bitchiness and an above average clumsiness. i was peeling hardboiled eggs. and failing. one after another, the eggshells came off with a large quantity of egg still attached and i was near tears with frustration. i was swearing heartily in polish (i can say fuckity fuck fuck fuck till i'm blue in the face but it does little for me, whereas a well placed KURWA! really hits the spot, when i am in need of a little verbal release) and it wasn't helping. at all. then, without really thinking about it, i took one of the mangled eggs and lobbed it out the window where it splattered in a satisfying way on the brick of the shitty building next to our shitty building (if i knew then what i know now about the late night celine dion concerts, i would have aimed for the neighbours' window).

mr. monkey came in, looked, gave me a kiss and left. how can you not love a man who will thus love a mentally unstable thrower of hardboiled eggs?

kids, this is why it is important to always have at least one window without a screen. remember that. i know i do.

26 June, 2006

why i will die needlessly

i am a klutz. a terrible, spectacular klutz.

when i went to australia with my husband's friend peter (ha! i love saying that because it sounds like something from desperate houswives, which, although i have never ever seen an actual episode, i think i get the gist of) my husband told me to be careful. now, given that of the 10 most dangerous snakes in the world, 8 are australian and there are many other scary things that can kill you in that odd australian upside down fashion, you'd think that was what my beloved was referring to. nah. he asked me to be careful when i was cutting things. snort! who does he think i am? cut myself! right! well...right. i did cut myself.

and nothing bit me.

though we did have a little episode when peter's brother, who hates bugs waaaay more than i do (and that's saying something) started screaming that he saw a spider in a shirt on the floor. so, acting all "let me handle this, little lady" swaggery and all, i came up, picked up the shirt nonchalantly, shook it out (while peter's brother cowered in the corner - men!) and finding no spider in it, tossed it at the guy. tee hee - this is funny now...hell, it was funny then! as the shirt flew through the air, a spider did indeed fall out of it and soon our combined high-pitched screams brought our host over. he was all business - came up, squished the offending arthropod, looked at it and spake thus "it's nothing to worry about, it's only a whiteback." so we were all like, "whew! a whiteback! thank GOD! uumm...what is a whiteback?" at which point we found out that its bite makes your flesh rot. but only, you know, in the general bite area. you're not, like, going to lose an arm or a leg, or anything. ahem. in australia, that's a NON dangerous animal.

so that's that. but, as per usual, i digress. back to my klutziness.

so this one time, i was having a fight with my then boyfriend. as is usual for fights in which i am involved, there was a lot of screaming, gnashing of teeth, rending of clothes and general gestures of the melodramatic kind. having made my point (and, boy, can i make my point, as my long suffering spouse will attest), i turned around to make a grand exit. i had had my say. i had spoken. i was through. through with you, baby! i was outta there!

as i turned, i tripped on the telephone wire and, i swear on a deity of your choice that this is true, i went airborne. this was no mean trip, this was flight. all my limbs actually left the earth and i really vividly remember having time to think that this was not doing my side of the argument any good at all, and that my grand exit wasn't all i had hoped it would be. i came down in the vicinity of the door, at least a couple of metres from where i started.

and this is one for the "couldn't do it if you tried" books. i was locking my car, and as usual had my hands full of purses, sunglasses, lipglosses, books and god knows what else i always need on my person at all time, and as i turned around to slam the door, my keys flew off my hand and into the car. it was a slow motion scream as i realised what was going to happen - the keys landed neatly on the driver's seat just as the door clicked shut. the ama man thought it was pretty damn funny. yeah. ha. ha.

so what i fear is that i will die in a freakishly odd and yet completely preventable way. i am a posterchild for the "most accidents happen in the home" campaign. i now make a point of being really careful, which works well enough when i am sober. unfortunately there are frequent times when i am not.

saturday night at a st. jean baptiste party i had had a couple of glasses of wine and was feeling gooood. i walked into the kitchen and saw a woman who had just spilled red wine on her shorts. now i am not smug when i see another mortal suffering the fate usually reserved for me (i will NEVER wear a white shirt to a party. ever. ) having lately discovered the miraculous powers of tide to go i immediately rushed to her side and, in my charmingly imperfect french (ha!) told her to wait for me. i ran upstairs, dug in my purse, produced the pen and started to gallop down. unfortunately i slipped and fell down the last several steps, nearly dislocating my shoulder out of its shouldery socket (yeah, i know it has a name, but screw you if you think i'm going to go searching for it now, disrupting my narrative flow...aaaah, where was i?) and nearly knocking over what was quite probably an heirloom antique. but, hey, the wine stain came OUT! you go, tide to go, you GO!

and so if you hear that i electrocuted myself by dropping my hairdryer into a bathtub, or fell down a manhole, you can rest assured - i had it coming. it was always going to be that kind of end.

editorial comment: as i got ready to cut a watermelon with our needlessly gigantic henckel knife i realised that what you might or might not know about me is that i am a dental hygienist by trade. so, you know, i poke sharp little instruments into people's mouths. ha!

sheep shearing and writing with poop!

ok, so because i am apparently too dumb to be able to figure out how to add a list of links, despite some fairly explicit instructions, i thought i'd share this with y'all. it is brilliant. if you speak swedish it is probably way more fun, but even if you don't, it's great. i'm sure everyone has seen the singing horses, but have you written "i love george" in poop? have you skateboarded with the cows? huh? huh? have ya? go on, you know you wanna.

thingies i think

1. i love predictable, happy meg ryan movies.
2. i think kate hudson has no boobs, no lips, and no talent.
3. i think gwynneth paltrow should be told her brit accent sucks monkey ass.
4. i don't get american apparel ads with their "regular" ugly people in "regular" ugly clothes. if i want that, i look in the mirror. plus their clothes stink. i realise that the 80's are the acme of hipster cool, but do we really need unitards again? huh? i think not.
5. peanut butter - crunchy, chunky, never smooth. preferably organic and made with only peanuts. salt and icing sugar are just plain unnecessary.
6. i think my husband has a cute butt.
7. i love fire works. love them with all the awe and intensity of a 5 year old on a sugar rush.
8. i'm done now.
9. i said, i'm done now.
10. go away, willya? why does it always have to be 10?

25 June, 2006


we just returned from our trip to quebec. the people were friendly, the scenery gorgeous, the cafe au lait hot, and the croissants flaky, in a word: perfect. still, the highlight of my trip was at a little greasy spoon casse-croute (snack shop) in gaspesie. there, ladies and gentlemen, i had poutine with lobster. i can die happy now.

18 June, 2006


the oilers rock my world! yo mama, carolina! YO MAMA!

editorial comment following the last game: for this i drank multiple pints of cheap beer? for this i ate copious quantities of calorie-laden greasy bar food? you bastards! you heart-breaking bastards!

16 June, 2006

the obligatory list of 100 things about me (part deux)

61. i can't handle dental hygienists who take themselves too seriously - yo, we are scraping calcified twinkies off people's teeth here! yes, yes, i know it's important, but doctors without borders we ain't!

62. i have tried sailing, horseback riding, snowshoeing, rollerblading, swimming, cross-country skiing, downhill skiing, skating, biking, hiking, badminton, volleyball, baseball, football, canoeing, weight-lifting, running, pilates and yoga. i am uniformly terrible at all those things and enjoy only a few of them. clearly, i am not athletic.

63. i got an english honours degree just for the fun of it. i love writing essays - they are the perfect form of expression for someone with a short attention span and an overabundance of opinions.

64. my friends have really cute children

65. if we do bite the bullet and reproduce (the growing likelihood is inversely proportional to my likelihood of actually getting preggo) my husband will be good daddy. i will be mean mommy. i just know there will be beatings involved. and psychological manipulation. which, if you think about it, is a pretty damn good reason to have children. hah!

66. i write poetry at about the same rate that i paint - less and less every year. i like to think it's quality over quantity but i may be only kidding myself. but i actually have a fan (count'im - one!). he comes to all my poetry readings (count'em - three!) and compares me to james joyce. or is it james barber? i don't know who he is (the fan, not james joyce - i do have an english degree!) but it's nice to know someone likes my work.

67. i am a people pleaser and carry a huge load of guilt even though i wasn't really raised as an all out catholic

68. i have a terrible temper which explodes out of control, causes a lot of collateral damage and makes me feel terrible, which probably explains the people pleasing bit.

69. both mr. monkey and i are very good cooks

70. i love cookbooks but read them the way i would read a jane austen novel - for the lush descriptions and nothing else. i am not disciplined enough to follow recipes. the women in my family cook and bake without recipes, sew and knit without patterns, and generally are creative rebels. we are also spectacularly good looking, wise beyond our years, and smell good.

71. i hate it when people say things like, "hey, let's get together some time!" without any intentions to carry through with it. i hate you!

72. i love alberta but my favourite city is vancouver

73. i sometimes lie on magazine quizzes to make myself look good. it's more like tweaking the truth, but still.

74. my favourite colours change all the time but i currently favour chocolate brown, tangerine, and chartreuse.

75. if i was to go see strippers, i'd rather see women than men. perfectly waxed boy-toys with their bouncing satin covered goodie sacks bore me.

76. when i dress, i dress for women, not men. men don't generally care what you have on as long as it leaves your bits exposed. women can appreciate clothes.

77. i hate people as a group, though i often love people individually. it gets confusing, because i sometimes also hate people individually. so, with small but significant exceptions, i am basically a people-pleasing misanthropic bitch wanna-be.

78. i am a fast walker, and my height has nothing to do with it. my mom is short and walks just as fast.

79. my dad runs several marathons a year. we quietly think he is insane.

80. a couple of years ago my mom and i joined my dad for a marathon in white sands, new mexico. it's one of the few marathons you can join as a walker. it was an incredible experience and i will do it again. we did the 42 km (26 mi) in 8h 40 min, and i can proudly say that other than the runners, not one single person passed us. we walked funny for days after.

81. i went on 2 mountain backpacking trips in my life and although i was sore and bitchy for a large part of them, i must say i was proud of myself. i also enjoyed the guilt-free french fries at the end.

82. what i learned from the above experiences was that i would rather walk 42 km on flat terrain than 6 km up a steep mountain. but i will do both again.

83. i've been downhill skiing since i was 3 but i am not nearly as good as that would suggest. a couple years ago i realised that i really don't enjoy it, what with the high costs and the age-sharpened awareness of my own mortality. then i realised that i am now technically an adult and no one can make me go so i stopped.

84. i hate bugs. i can handle spiders because they eat other bugs. if it has more than 8 legs, i do not want to see it. butterflies, seen up close, count as bugs.

85. i have a tiny family but i love them all to bits.

86. going back to poland used to be great because of the food, until, in the last few years, they discovered processed cheese slices and presliced fluff-o-bread. luckily, at the same time, north america discovered farmers' markets, the slow food movement and artisanal bakeries.

87. i have never been a full blonde, though i did once get so many highlights that when i came home, mr. monkey took one look at me and cried gleefully, "i get a bimbo!" i refuse to go blonde because it is so obvious.

88. my elementary school best friend was named izabela, in junior high it was asia, and in highschool, joyce. now, other than mister monkey, i don't have one best friend, but many really amazing ones.

89. i miss pork but i also really like pigs so i won't eat them.

90. i didn't start drinking till i was 19, but have since caught up, especially during my 3 years in a small alberta town.

91. i went through 2 serious episodes of depression in my life, which statistically and medically speaking means that i have practically 100% chance of being depressed again in my life. i wish they wouldn't tell you things like that - it's depressing.

92. i have not been depressed since i met mr. monkey, but i bet ya he's had a few bad days with me!

93. i killed a skunk with our car on our trip to quebec. i felt terrible since i had never killed anyone before...oh, except for the squirrels i gleefully shot with an air-gun a decade ago, but they were crapping in our cereal, and i fed them to coyotes, so that's different.

94. mr. monkey's most favourite food in the universe is pho.

95. when they are in season, i can eat so many cherries that i get sick. then i eat some more.

96. anyone who calls me "agnes" is no friend of mine. my name is agnieszka. mangle it, mispronounce it, do what you will with it, but do not call me "agnes," it is not, and never has been, my name. if i like you, you can shorten it.

97. i grind my teeth. when i was 23, my dentist told me i had the teeth of a 40 year old. i wonder what age they are now.

98. i secretly want a tattoo, but i am afraid my mom will find out.

99. i didn't vote in the last election because we were in the usa, and i take full responsibility for what happened. canada, i am truly sorry.

100. i don't completely trust gravity, so i fear heights.

101. i would wear nothing but linen, silk and cashmere all the time. i am a simple girl with simple tastes. and yes, i realise that linen wrinkles. polyester doesn't. draw your own conclusions.

102. matching shoes and purse are not a fashion statement. they are a sign of an atrophied imagination.

103. i like pretentious french movies.

104. i am a super organizer. my books, cds and dvds are in alphabetical order. i used to have colour coded hangers but after my aunt laughted at me i sort of realised it was sort of wonky. sort of.

105. i feel that if you are unable to signal when driving because you are too busy talking to, like, your totally best friend tiffanie, you need to reexamine your priorities and GET OFF THE ROAD, bitch!

106. in the spring i pet little leaf buds and say hello to them.

107. i am cranky when: i wake up, i am hungry, i am tired, i have a headache, i am reading and someone disturbs me, i am lost, i do something stupid. some would say i am cranky pretty much most of the time, but being somewhat of an optimist (in a cranky, pessimistic kind of way), i choose to think that i am NOT cranky SOME of the time.

108. i am lazy. i might have mentioned that before.

the obligatory list of 100 (or so) things about me (part 1)

hey, all the kool kids are doing it!

1. i love doing yoga although i am very, very bad at it. touching my toes is a major accomplishment.

2. i am a natural speed reader like my mother and it is not unusual for me to be reading a couple of books at once (i'm a girl, i can multitask)

3. i love food. i love it passionately. i love shopping for it, preparing it, reading about it, talking about it, and most of all, i love eating it.

4. hamburger helper, ding-dongs and kool-aid do not qualify as food, but kraft dinner just barely squeaks by, although i am ashamed to admit it. when i was a kid my mom would buy me zoodles about once every 6 months as a treat, and, having been raised on delicious home cooking, of course i thought they were absolutely amazing and couldn't get enough of them.

5. jujubes - no! real fruit gummies - yes!

6. i got my driver's license really late, at 23, but i was thrilled to see that i wasn't the oldest one in the class - it was a 60 year old woman. yay!

7. i have big feet, size 11, and am therefore treated like a freak by most canadian shoe stores. in the usa, however, i am treated like a nominal sub-freak, which is why when we were living in chicago, i bought many, many, many pairs of shoes.

8. i was born i poland and lived for a year in austria before coming to canada in 1982.

9. although i say i am polish-canadian, i definitely feel more canadian-polish but it doesn't roll off the tongue the same way

10. i never dated a polish guy, ever, until i started to date my husband, and then there was no turning back - he is sooooo a keeper.

11. i have a lovely mix of polish and canadian friends (although technically my polish friends are also canadian, but you know what i mean), but they don't tend to mix well at parties, but clump together along ethnic lines, which sucks.

12. i used to play the piano, but i was lazy and never learned to read music properly and there came a point at which i could no longer bluff my way along so i quit (yeah, yeah, common theme)

13. i am a rabid tree hugger, leftie, pinko commie and i love it - screw you, w!!!

14. i am still indecently in love with my husband of (almost) 5 years

15. i am afraid of people i love dying - it scares the shit out of me. even though it is an unavoidable part of life, i keep looking for a loophole.

16. i am a lacto-ovo-pesco vegetarian, which means i can be morally superior and really annoying, and still not give up the things i like the best, like yogurt and seafood

17. it took me 6 months to get comfortable driving a standard, and 12 months to actually like it. i'd never go back to an automatic now. NEVAH!!!

18. we have a cute 2004 toyota echo hatchback named helmut, because he is the same golden-mustard colour as our bicycle helmets

19. we have no pets, but once had a mouse problem

20. my husband and i call each other mister monkey

21. i think my boobs are too big

22. i am tall and relatively slim which prompts some people to say "ooh, you should be a model" without factoring in such fine details like my scoliosis of the spine, big schnoz, decidedly unpouty lips, and, oh, about 20 kilo excess weight (have you seen those girls, people? they DON"T EAT!!!) but thanks all the same for fostering my delusions of grandeur.

23. apparently i once had an IQ of 154, but i think i have drowned most of my grey matter in wine. my most optimistic estimate for right now is around 79.

24. i dropped out of university after one year straight out of highschool because it was unbelievably dull. i have since gone back not once, but twice - once to do a diploma of dental hygiene, and then to get an english honours degree.

25. i loved my highschool years, but i would never say they were the best years of my life 'cause that'd just be sad.

26. most of my close friends now are people i went to highschool with. i picked up nobody in university as far as friendships go. but i have picked up some new friends since.

27. most, though not all, of my good friends are male and it's so cool that mr. monkey befriended them instead of being jealous

28. i usually have at least 10 different types of tea in my cupboard. my staples - earl grey, julie's jasmine green, yerba mate, red rose, camomile and peppermint

29. i love big red wines that kick you in the teeth - chilean merlots, australian shiraz and cabernet sauvignon, the only whites i like are sweeter german style gewürztraminers and rieslings. the more i learn about wine, the less i am able to drink cheap swill and this pisses me off. ladies and gentlemen, i am becoming a wine snob. *hick*

30. i am not a beer drinker, but if i must drink it i'll cut it with clamato juice which is actually really yummy (thanks joan!)

31. i know 3 lawyers, and they are really really nice women

32. i am an intellectual snob, even though i am also unbelievably intellectually lazy, and i would really rather not be either

33. i am an only child but i have a cousin older than me by 5 months who is not only like a brother but also an amazing friend, and he has finally found himself a woman that we all like - yay cousin!

34. i don't understand why chicago is called part of the midwest when it is clearly east, people! when looking at a map, east is right, west is left. chicago is very obviously on the RIGHT part of the us map. look it up. it's true.

35. this takes a long time

36. i've been unemployed for a year now and though i'd never thought i'd say this - i miss work. i worked 2 weeks when i went home over christmas and was surprised at how much i enjoyed it. i am looking forward to working again in a couple of months.

37. i have wasted most of my time off doing stupid things and getting very little done.

38. although i generally hate pop and diet drinks, i really like crystal light, especially strawberry kiwi (again, thanks joan)

39. i have made peace with my nose, but i once hated it so much that my parents were going to help me pay for a nose job in poland. i took the money and bought a car instead (see below).

40. my first car was a red 1991 honda civic hatchback

41. i once dated a much older psychotic man who, a decade later, still manages to find me everywhere and who is probably reading this right now - it's time to move on, terry! get. help.

42. i once dated a mountie and have gained a better understanding of what it means to be a cop, and the fact that i could never, ever be a cop's wife

43. i am a dog person, not a cat person and yet my family keeps switching sides on me - my mom got a cat, and then my aunt got two cats, and oddly enough i kind of like them, although my mom's cat is completely in need of kitty lithium

44. i like big clunky silver jewellery

45. i like chocolate lava cake and creme brulee

46. i have a strict rule about not eating french fries unless i've just finished climbing a mountain, but i've been breaking it lately and getting jiggly with it.

47. i was raised a semi-non-practising catholic, went through a born-again christian phase in highschool as part of my teenage rebellion against my atheist parents, and am now happily over god, though i sometimes miss him

48. i think that it is the responsibility of citizens of democracies to speak out against their governments. this does not make them unpatriotic, it makes them realistic, wise and in charge - precisely what they should be in a democracy.

49. i believe the world is owned by corporations anyways, so all this talk of democracy is just a smokescreen. who cares if you vote, as long as you consume!
50. yes, i am cynical and bitter

51. when i have a yard, i compost. all my family members compost.

52. when i was a teen i hated how my dad would dive into the garbage to retrieve recyclables. i now do the same and i am proud.

53. once you try good dark chocolate, you can't go back to cadbury.

54. my husband is a much nicer person than i am, but he can be a jerk too sometimes, which makes me feel better.

55. i want to retire in southern bc, in a solar-powered self-sufficient house so that when civilization takes a nose dive, we can survive comfortably.

56. we are completely debt free and it feels fantabulistic.

57. mr. monkey showers in the evening, i shower in the morning, so i have better hair.

58. mr. monkeys family is into boxers. i think they are sweet dogs but the gooey slobber really grosses me out and i could never tolerate it.

59. i can handle farts, but burps really disgust me.

60. i skipped grade 3 and 5, but because kids go to school 1 year later in poland, and because i was sort of unofficially home-schooled the year we were in austria, i am the exact same age as my highschool classmates

15 June, 2006

poutine city, here we come!!!

for those of you not in the know, poutine is a french canadian dish of french fries (preferably fresh cut, with the skins still on), cheese curds and a liberal slathering of gravy*. this sounds absolutely vile. i know. i thought so too until i tasted the first orgasmatronic mouthful.
bear with me here - the cheese curds, trapped between hot gravy and even hotter fries, start to melt ever so slowly, so every mouthful is a symphonic harmony of partially melted cheese, deep fried starch and salty gravy heaven. yum. truly! and tomorrow, the long suffering spouse and i are going on a road trip to the land of poutine - quebec. see ya, suckers!

*some people add bacon bits or green onions, but to me that's like asking mother teresa to do community service: not necessary, and frankly kind of rude.

chocolate honey

this here wench, smugly flashing her asscheeks, took a lot out of me. yup, she made me work for it, but i luuurve her! and no, you can't have her. she's mine! aaaalll mine! Posted by Picasa

moi? artistique? oui, oui!

when i was younger, i was a lot more creative (not to mention hotter, although i didn't realise this until now, fat lot of good that does my jiggly thirtysomething gut, but i digress). i suppose this blog is a last ditch effort to convince myself that i am not in the latter stages of complete moral and artistic decrepitude.
i used to draw all the time. i painted like crazy, producing a deluge of rotund naked chick paintings in various stages of rotundity and déshabillé. there was a time in my life when i always had a mug of paint-water on my kitchen table so that in the morning, when my faculties were not up to par, i'd never know what i was drinking. so what happened to that sweet blossom of youthful promise, you demand to know? well, for one, i took my first actual art class. a real class. taught by a real live artist. at the university, no less. it was the only class i ever dropped in my entire academic career. god, i hated that class. mostly because people who had less talent than me were doing far better, since all my life i'd learned to coast and not exert myself (i'm lazy, i might have mentioned that before). hey, it was tough for wittle missy perfect to suddenly not be the best one in the class. so instead of working hard, learning great things, and meeting wonderful people who would become friends for life, blah blah blah, i just dropped out. and that may have been the pivotal moment in my art career.
i noticed lately that i have learned almost nothing new since highschool, presumably because doing fuck all presents precious little learning opportunity. or perhaps, let's be painfully honest for a moment here, i peaked at 17 and it's all a crazy bicycle ride downhill from here, kind of like that scene from city of angels where meg ryan is hurtling down a hill and you just, like, know that things are not going well, and then SPLAT! but hey, i can deal. as long as mommy gets a drink into her regularly, all is well with the universe.

our new chicken hats

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hats! hats! everywhere!

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more furry-hatted fun

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hair 2

i am currently growing out my hair (for guys like my husband reading this - yes, even when you are growing out your hair you need it cut occasionally, trust me on this). i figure it's my last hurrah before i reach my 40's and long hair starts to look lank and used-looking on me. you know the aging hippy coiff of which i speak. of course sexy 40- and even 50-year-old actresses are redefining that whole thing (and who knows, maybe 40 is now the new 20? i'm not up on the latest hollywood trends.) there is of course the updo, which can carry you respectfully into whatever age the male hormones start to outweigh the female ones and male pattern baldness sets in - hopefully not till my 90's. but i figure this is the last time i can do the girlish loose locks without looking desperate or pathetic, or just plain uck. so the deal is this - now that my hair is long, i see it everywhere. it's clogging the drains, lying on the floor in loose art nouveau coils, occasionally gracing my long-suffering spouse's salad; it's in our bed, on my clothes, and pretty much everywhere. so what i want to know is if short hair falls out at the same rate but because it is short it simply fails to make the same kind of visual impact, or if there is some physics law like the conservation of mass that governs hair: that i must have a constant mass of hair on my head and if my hair is short, there will be many of them, but if it is long, there will be fewer in order to maintain the hair mass stability ratio. in order to test this i will grow my hair very very long until i have one extremely long hair and the producers of various freak-of-the-day tv shows will be beating down my door.
p.s. at what age is it compulsory to get the short grandma perm? just wondering.

me bad

a quote from blogger's jennifer garrett: "Be kind to your reader. Capitalization and punctuation are the easiest ways to indicate exactly what you're trying to say. It's time for a little tough love, people: Anyone who types in all lowercase needs to be taken out back and beaten. You are not e.e. cummings; you are not being "artistic." You're just too lazy to hit the shift key. If you can't be bothered with the extra keystroke, I can't be bothered to read your site."
well, i am not trying to be artistic, jen. and yes, i am lazy. why do people assume i would not own up to that one? am i lazy? hell yeah! and i think much faster than i can type, so actually using the shift button would put me that much further behind my brain.
so you'll never read my blog, jen. too bad. though i totally get your rant against ellipsis users (die, die, die, you intellectually stunted turds!). so there.

more tv confessions

1. i love the gilmore girls, i think it is one of the best written shows out there (of course given my limited tv experience you shouldn't take my word for it - i certainly wouldn't). about a year ago a good friend whom i'd gotten hooked on the show gave me a big stack of cds with all the seasons of gg that he'd downloaded. i was thrilled but my thrill turned to ire when it turned out my laptop lacked the necessary codecs to play my show. i have no idea what codecs are and where to get them, and, having gotten them, what to do with them.
2. i believe that those responsible for cancelling firefly need to have their kneecaps shot off.
3. i love home make-over shows, but not the sucky cry-fests that feature the blind newly-widowed pastor and his 17 disabled children and then the whole neighbourhood pitches in because he is such an upstanding citizen, makes wicked coleslaw for block parties and hardly ever beats his kids at all (probably because he can't see them) and sears donates truck-loads of appliances with absolutely no ulterior motive like having their name on ginormous trucks slowly driven across the screen for 5 minutes of free advertizing. not those - i like those quickie half hour shows where mean decorators paint heirloom rosewood furniture and then people return home and try to hide the trembling lip as they pronounce it "fabulous!" while mentally calculating the amount of money it'll cost them to buy back their brown and beige floral la-z-boy, wall to wall dusty rose carpeting and the stuffed carp for the mantelpiece.
4. i used to have the biggest crush on mr. spock in the old star trek, and before you start telling me about fixating on emotionally unavailable men, don't bother, i know all about it, and have finally managed to quit, thank you very much.
5. i loved the predictability of the a-team. 15 minutes before the show ended you could always count on them to build a tank out of an old kitchen sink, a lawnmower and a slightly chipped garden gnome. if you don't know who the a-team is, you're much too young to be reading this. go away.
6. a big chunk of the polish immigrant population learned their english by watching three's company. i am not making this up. it was on during our particular immigration wave of the early 80's and everybody watched it except our house where my dad actively discouraged tv watching, which is why i speak such poor english and do not find it funny when people walk into doors or trip on couches
7. i hate mr.bean. i do not find him funny at all. i will not crack a smile during his show. ever. (see 6.)
8. i think big bird is spectacularly creepy and do not understand why they would want to terrorize our nation's young with a giant chicken of dubious sexual identity unless there is some nefarious government plot at hand, possibly co-financed by kfc.
9. i have never had cable in my life (except for a short stint in a company house, so it doesn't count), and i intend to stick with it, continuing to use cheap motels for my ongoing affair with law & order.
10. the nature of things is another brilliant canadian show for those of you who care about the environment. in fact i think david suzuki should run for office - now there's a prime minister i could stomach! and he's kinda cute.

14 June, 2006

tv confessions (in no particular order)

1. i have never watched survivor. ever. i might have seen a sum total of 5 minutes while flipping through channels in hotels looking for law & order
2. ditto for american idol, and fear factor, and any other reality tv you could possibly think of
3. with the notable exception of america's next supermodel, of which i saw several episodes and could not look away - it is delicious and wrong in the exact same way as a deep-fried mars bar but with fewer calories
4. when i flip through the second-hand star mags that someone routinely leaves in the laundry room of our shitty building, i have no clue who half the people in it are: mischa who?
5. i hate denise richards. she has the wide-eyed doe look that makes me want to kick her teeth in. luckily she is no longer pregnant - i would never kick a pregnant woman, that's just mean.
6. i hate seinfeld. i have always hated seinfeld. i hate every single character on it except for kramer, and kramer i find annoying.
7. i love law & order. when we stay in a hotel i can watch hours of law & order and its various spin-offs until i get vaguely sick to my soul what with all the bludgeoning and raping and lawyers. the next morning i usually have a law & order hangover and swear off tv for ever. until the next hotel stay, that is.
8. i think the simpsons is hilarious, politically relevant, smart and witty. people who think it is a kids' show are dumb. there are probably tonnes of new shows that are even funnier, more relevant and smarter, but since i have no tv (and when i do, it's law & order pour moi) i'll never know.
9. southpark's "shut your fucking face, uncle-fucker" song often runs through my head. i used to find myself humming it as i worked on patients and had to resist the urge to break into song - not so professional, that.
10. as a young girl i got to have my very own tv in my very own room, at which point i became addicted to dynasty, realised i was wasting my time and gave the tv back to my parents. yes, even then i was appallingly responsible, dull beyond belief and a goody two shoes. only now i drink.

el diablo

a good friend, and fellow blogger introduced me to diablo cody and i have spent the last 2 hours reading her blog and pissing myself laughing. i now want to nip off and shoot myself. no way in hell could i ever come close to this woman's wit, filthymindedness and amazing knowledge of pop culture. she reminds me how out of it i am, how dull, how uninspired my life (though, goshdarn it all to heck, i tend to enjoy it quite a bit, thank you very much). i was never a stripper. i don't have a dog that licks my cat's ass. i don't even have a cat. and as of a few days ago, i have soccer-mom hair. grrrr! i neither gleefully eat donuts and watch american idol, nor am i an unshaven earth mama. sure, i eat kashi. but i also drink too much. i float between categories, doing yoga (badly, oh so very badly) and enjoying my love affair with melted cheese. weh, if i stop to think about it, nothing's really changed, i was always out of it - too much effort to be with it and i am terribly lazy. it's a way to live. but, as per usual, i digress. back to comparing myself to one of the wittiest people i have read in a long time (unfavourably, duh!) if it wasn't for my almost psychotic need to talk ad nauseum to anyone who will listen, i would discontinue my blog immediately. as it is, i won't. so, go read her. laugh. but read an archie comic or something as a palate cleanser before returning here because any immediate comparison would be absolutely detrimental to my fragile sense of self worth.

shut up, willya?

a few nights ago the neighbours in the shitty building next to our shitty building cranked up celine dion. they generally tend to do everything really loudly from conversations i have no wish to hear (ok, we do it too, but ours are secretly coded in polish, so it doesn't count) to watching strange films late at night which sound like old spaghetti westerns judging by the music. anyhoo, this particular night it was celine dion. mr. monkey and i howled along to that utterly horrific song from the equally horrific "titanic" (both of which do indeed go on and on - so kudos to the lyric writers) hoping that our canine chorus would clue them in. nah. close to midnight we began to get pissed. i was pissed because mr. monkey had to get up early for work the next day, while mr. monkey got pissed out of a beautifully touching sense of marital solidarity. i kept threatening to yell out the window, even going so far as to aggressively whip out my retainer (nothing ruins the authority of a threatening yell faster than a dental retainer lisp) but mr. monkey intervened. then, around 12:30, with celine's multioctavic howls showing no signs of stopping, mr. monkey stuck his head out the window and started to whistle. and boy, can my boy whistle. it brings to mind football hooligans and other scary euro-thugs. he whistled in time with whatever crapalicious unimaginative bit of "romantic" pop celine was emoting, and still nothing. eventually i leaned out and yelled at them to turn it down. in my excitement i forgot my retainer in and lisped, but i think it was still pretty threatening. i wiped the spittle off my chin and waited. nothing. celine kept bleating on. at this point i was ready to call the cops. but i didn't. certainly not because i am nice. i didn't call the cops because it would have been embarassing. i'd have to tell them it wasn't gangsta rap or acid metal, or whatever it is that the "bad" kids listen to these days in between dealing crack, raping senior citizens and whatever, but rather the crooning of canada's finest. but really, i was mostly embarassed for the neighbours. can you imagine having the cops come to your house to shut you down, baby, because you have celine dion blasting out of your stereo? puhleeze!

oh baby!

my baby and a ginormous baby head at the national art gallery. it must be said that mr. monkey felt great to finally meet someone whose head was bigger than his. Posted by Picasa


went and got a haircut recently, and, as is typical, it is a nice, tame, unimaginative soccer-mom haircut. you know the kind i mean - it comes with a minivan, 2.5 children, and a golden retriever, along with a dull, oversized house in the suburbs with a perfectly manicured lawn and a 3 car garage and who needs that kind of middle class baggage? sigh. why is it that when i walk into a hair salon, i can talk till i am blue in the face about what i want using words like cool, edgy, funky, and chic, and still walk out of there with the world's expectations scissored into my scalp? i realise i may not be the hipster queen of the niagara region, but i like to think i have some hip left in me yet (and hey, 30 is the new 20, they tell us!). so i'm wondering - do i have to get a penis tattooed on my neck to get a little respect?

13 June, 2006

cosmic sneeze

so a friend wrote me something somewhat wise, perceptive, completely obvious, refreshingly honest and bloody mean, and yes, all in one: "it's the nature of email and blog communication - nobody who does it is as good a writer as they think they are." this to welcome me to the blogosphere. right. i knew that. sure. ouch. and since we're on the subject of feelings, i really really want it noted that in my next incarnation i want to not give a shit (and have a flat stomach, thick beeootiful hair, a smaller nose, better diction, a glorious singing voice and a wee bit of ambition to help me make something of myself instead of drinking my IQ points away with some admittedly very nice people, but still). unless of course cosmic irony brings me back as a constipated celine dion with a nose job. or a potted cactus. or a goldfish. although if i was the latter i could apparently have a very satisfying career in synchronized swimming, but i digress. where was i? oh yeah, hurt. well, not really hurt. just more of a generally irked feeling, along the lines of a paper cut, though not one of those really bad ones. and here's the rub - i am perfectly willing to accept as true any kind of criticism, thinly veiled or otherwise (unless it comes from my mother). here i am, trumpeting to the universe how glorious it is to be a woman in her 30's, how confident, how relaxed in my own skin, blah blah blah. and it's not like i don't mean it. i do, but there is still that open door in the back of the house somewhere where the draft gets in and that's that. i guess part of the general self-acceptance mantra is to accept one's imperfections, but i am getting really rather pissed with the goody-two-shoes, hypersensitive crybaby interior that belies my tough bitch exterior (which, incidentally, my friends routinely say is a figment of my imagination, so maybe i really am just a crybaby bitch wanna-be). having now totally lost myself in a maze of imaginary (or possibly occasionally very real - ask my husband) bitchiness, i will end.
did i make a point? no.
have i helped others like me, lost souls, all, trying to walk that fine, fine line between baby and bitch? not even close.
did i manage to sneak in totally cool footage (thanks jools) of fish doing amazing things? you betcha! and you've got to accentuate the positives!

i love radio

it's been nearly a year since we moved away from edmonton. it's amazing that you can leave your home, see a smallish chunk of the world, some of it truly lovely, and still be filled with the overwhelming desire to go back. but there is one thing that this extended series of moves has given me - the radio.
it's been a couple of years now since we got rid of our tv and, like the meat i gave up several years ago, i hardly even notice it is gone. so what's left for a tv-less vegetarian? why, tofu and the radio! what else?
living in edmonton, i've been a fan and supporter of what i still believe is the best eclectic music station in the known universe, ckua. part of the pain of moving away was the lack of ckua on my dial. i know it seems odd, but i actually feel an emotional attachment to the station: its knowledgeable djs, its eclectic format, its low key tone. since discovering it (or rediscovering it, since my dad was a listener for years) i lost my tolerance for the bullshit of regular radio stations. you can keep your bear, or walrus, or one-eyed rabid beaver, and god protect you from the soul-destroying mellow brain-jellification blah of easy rock. mostly, you can keep your "funny" patronizing djs, your obnoxious mattress commercials, your endlessly repeating mass-produced, shiny-packaged crap music.
on ckua i discovered the world. i can honestly say that i would be a far richer girl, if i hadn't spent so much money on cds of artists i first heard on ckua. when they went off the air years ago i actually wept, and you know what? i wasn't the only one. we mobilised, lovers of good music, and brought the station back, so to leave it behind wasn't easy.
in chicago, although i still listened to ckua online whenever i was at the library, i looked for something to tide me over at home and in the car. that's when i discovered npr, national public radio. it, too, had the low key djs, the unobtrusive sponsors instead of a constant bombardment of tacky beer ads. i listened to a college jazz station until my husband found a station that was almost entirely news, interviews, science shows and the like - perfect for a bored housewife. it took several months of this fascinating content before i realised that something was wrong - i'd start to cry at inopportune moments, weeping bitterly over the fate of young girls in india sold to brothels, sobbing about the evils of war, depressed beyond belief, drowning in the surplus of the knowledge of good and evil (though, as the case usually presents itself, mostly evil). when i realised what was up i started to measure out small, safe doses of npr, and returned mostly to the college jazz station. there truly is such a thing as too much information, and although i love npr, it was too much of a shock for someone who until then routinely avoided the news.
when we moved back to canada i discovered cbc radio. it's shameful really to have lived so many years in this country and never listened to cbc radio. sure, i sometimes listened to cbc 2 at my parents' place, and grew heartily sick of classical music (hey, i'm working on it, truly, i appreciate its merits just cannot listen at length) but cbc 1 was a revelation. like npr but happier, somehow lighter in tone, without the "spreading democracy" agenda. oh sure, these days we have it all, just like our neighbours down south, we even have terrorists and gang shootings, just on a smaller scale so more time can be spent talking about literature and artists who make paintings of celebrities out of chewed up bubble gum (i am not making this up). don't get me wrong, npr had plenty of fantastic literary shows, but the weight of the problems of the world was too great. cbc 1 seems to have hit on the right balance of knowledge and lighter stuff, though i realise that it is lighter stuff only in my own nerdiverse, and the majority of the population would gladly swap tapestry's sunday discussions about god (discussions, not sermons, and sparklingly intelligent ones too) for more of the same predigested top 40 crap, but whatever. when i get around to taking over the world all this will change.
of course, now that i think about it, there is probably little difference between the sociopolitical content on cbc and npr, it's just that as a canadian show, cbc relates to me directly. i guess i'm a sucker for good old can con (canadian content for those of you not in the know).
as far as i am concerned, anyone who bitches and complains about the state of canadian film, tv and radio is obviously not paying attention. some of my favourite tv shows are canadian (i challenge anyone to watch corner gas and not guffaw), and now i discover that cbc radio is absolutely delightful. vinyl cafe makes sunday morning bearable. wire tap makes me feel that perhaps i am not quite as whiny as i think. all this in that quietly understated canadian sense of humour.
it's funny, though - i listen to these lovely stations and start to shed some of my deep sense of hopelessness about the human race. i listen to the callers, who are, for the most part, articulate, thoughtful and well spoken and i shed a little cynicism. but then the truth hits - ckua, npr, cbc are not mainstream. the majority of north americans like their news the way they like their music and their toilet paper - brightly packaged, brand-name driven, uninspired and fluffy. and then the cynicism returns.
but the long and the short of it is - i love radio. there are times when we sit in the car and listen to the end of a show because it is just too good to miss. so now, when i return home, i will have made some great friends, and among them will be two new stations that i can get misty-eyed and passionate about. check them out!

hanging out in ottawa

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12 June, 2006

hockey heartbreak

being an edmonton oilers fan is sort of like loving a man who is less than faithful. you love him, and the nights he actually comes home to you are amazing. but then there are those other nights, when he never comes home at all. you wait, you hope, and you get nothing. it's heartbreak.
god, how beautifully they played on saturday. how beautifully they played me on saturday. and tonight it's back to the heartbreak. you bastards!!!
ok, i may not know a hell of a lot about hockey, but i do get the gist of it (that bit about getting the puck into the opponents' net). you'd think someone would inform the oilers...it's not a hard concept to grasp. they broke my heart once when rollie got hurt, tonight they broke it again. you bastards!!!
of course, this is the way it always plays out: i will go out with my friends, bitch about my man, say i will never take him back again, but hey, let's be realistic, the next time he shows up with that bright hopeful toothless smile, that sexy broken nose, that sweaty t-shirt that says stanley on it...i'll melt and open my door.

what's in a name

i was thinking about paris and nicky hilton today (yeah, too much free time, i know, i know) and thought that it's somewhat unfair for parents to do that - name one kid paris and the other nicky. it's sort of like naming one daughter jane and the other barbarella - which one do you think will go traipsing across the galaxy in a metallic bikini? i know that nicky hilton designs purses or something, but whose name is on everyone's lips? huh? parents! when naming your children, think for a moment, think!

world domination

so recently i've been spending a lot of time thinking about world domination. i figure if only i wasn't so bloody lazy i could do some serious good as a benevolent dictator (dictatrix? dictatoress?). some of the issues i'd deal with immediately: overpopulation (what, you thought there wouldn't be any bloodshed? what kind of world dominatrix would i be then?) this might be a good time to get on my good side. i am seriously worried about our environmental impact so the fewer people the better is what i figure (i could bring in some hard scientific data to back me up on this but first of all, it's rather obvious, and second, like i said, i'm lazy).
here are a few other things i'd do - i'd outlaw tight lowrise jeans on anyone with a less than stellar figure (and that's faaaar fewer of you than you think!).
straight boys who take forever to get ready and who are too pretty for their own good will be forced to wear lumberjack jackets, non-ironic acid washed jeans and have their combs confiscated. no exceptions.
changing lanes or turning without signalling would merit a public spanking for the first offense, the removal of an appendage of your choice for the second, and shooting for the third. i think it's rather nice of me to allow the perp to choose the appendage, don't you?
throwing recyclables into the garbage is serious, but because a friend recently very calmly reminded me that people should not be shot for being ignorant, i will forgo shooting for the first offence and send the perp to an educational seminar which will be held at a landfill, to bring the point home.
all SUVs and especially hummers wil be immediately taken off the road and donated to budding metalsmiths who will turn them into public sculptures, fountains and playgrounds for underprivileged children. there is no reason anyone needs an SUV, unless you live on a mountain and have a pet moose.
any questions?
stay tuned for more on my world domination plans.

here i am

i'd like to officially welcome me to the world of blogging. it's the perfect place for an opinionated person who never shuts up and i am surprised it took me this long to get here. possibly my fear of technology had plenty to do with it. mantra for the day: i will not blow up the computer by accidentally pressing ctrl/alt/del. sigh. here i am.