Okay, I have no idea what just happened.
See, I live in this shitty little basement suite and above me live the home's owners, an early 30's guy, his wife and their new baby. All I know about her is that her name is Tracey and she's got a really annoying voice. Anyways, I feel either a suicide or a divorce coming on. Why you ask? Well, I'm about to tell you; hold your horses.
They always fight. Like, this became overwhelmingly apparent on my first night of living here, when at about 2 in the morning I woke up to hyperventilating scream-crying over my head. Their bedroom is situated right over top of mine, same goes with the kitchen. Well, tonight was especially interesting. I usually only can hear the muffled and hushed half-yelling of a couple who clearly aren't in love anymore, but tonight, I could make out entire sentences. She was yelling about something that has apparently happened in the last two months and over the last 7 years, and how she feels she has to leave and take their baby with her to get him to "sort his shit out". I feel it's either a drinking/drug/gambling addiction, or he's cheating. Both are win. And then there was some sobbing. And then there was some stomping. And then he left.
:O
To be continued?
Friday, August 28, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
carrot top
I'm dying. My hair. Again.
Maybe.
I've been dying my naturally honey blonde hair various brown and auburn shades for the last year and a bit, and I'm finally sick of it. I've got a good inch of blonde roots, and while I'm considering just growing it out and being a blonde again, I'm kind of not down for having perpendicular Cruella DeVille hair for the next couple of years. Knowing me, I'll get six months into the grow-out process, say fuck it and throw a box of grocery store dye on it, and regret it a month later when my blonde roots creep back and I am once again reminded how beautiful my blonde hair is. So I'm considering going bright red, and while the carpet will certainly not match the drapes, there are perks to looking like Neko Case, who I (not entirely coincidentally) love. Bright red, while exciting and fabulous, is notoriously hard to maintain as red tends to fade very quickly. Aaand I kind of want to be blonde, actually.
So here are the options:
1. Go and have my hair colour-corrected to the tune of $500.
2. Go to the pharmacy and buy a box of bleach. Go to the liquor store and buy a box of Smirnies. Fly at 'er. I could potentially have all my hair fall out, but fuck if that's going to discourage me.
3. Go to the pharmacy and buy a box of temporary red hair dye. Slather it on and hope for the best/a quick fix.
I'm going to let this roll 'round the ol' noggin for a few days before I make any decisions. I think I could rock my blonde hair again now that I'm older and not so insecure about what people assume about blondes. And like, who knows? Maybe blonde hair would compliment this Karen O haircut I've got.
Maybe.
I've been dying my naturally honey blonde hair various brown and auburn shades for the last year and a bit, and I'm finally sick of it. I've got a good inch of blonde roots, and while I'm considering just growing it out and being a blonde again, I'm kind of not down for having perpendicular Cruella DeVille hair for the next couple of years. Knowing me, I'll get six months into the grow-out process, say fuck it and throw a box of grocery store dye on it, and regret it a month later when my blonde roots creep back and I am once again reminded how beautiful my blonde hair is. So I'm considering going bright red, and while the carpet will certainly not match the drapes, there are perks to looking like Neko Case, who I (not entirely coincidentally) love. Bright red, while exciting and fabulous, is notoriously hard to maintain as red tends to fade very quickly. Aaand I kind of want to be blonde, actually.
So here are the options:
1. Go and have my hair colour-corrected to the tune of $500.
2. Go to the pharmacy and buy a box of bleach. Go to the liquor store and buy a box of Smirnies. Fly at 'er. I could potentially have all my hair fall out, but fuck if that's going to discourage me.
3. Go to the pharmacy and buy a box of temporary red hair dye. Slather it on and hope for the best/a quick fix.
I'm going to let this roll 'round the ol' noggin for a few days before I make any decisions. I think I could rock my blonde hair again now that I'm older and not so insecure about what people assume about blondes. And like, who knows? Maybe blonde hair would compliment this Karen O haircut I've got.
Friday, August 21, 2009
vroom!
I've seen commercials for Wendy's new boneless chicken wings and KFC's grilled chicken. They scare the fuck out of me. Almost as much as staying up until 3 watching a Reese Witherspoon movie marathon instead of going to sleep so's to get up early for work like a good little coffee slave - which I did on Tuesday night. Run on sentence!
I can't get over pre-teens these days. I got my first cell phone when I was sixteen years old. Lately, I've seen kids as young as probably 10 toting keybo cell phone blackberry 3g phones - Hannah Montana ringtones, Hello Kitty cellphone charms. And these same kidlets are already slaves to Planet Starbucks, slurping down grande strawberries and cream frappuccinos purchased with the money their parents threw at them to get rid of them for the day. The worst part? They think they are so cool. Bitches.
...Wow, am I really this petty over a bunch of dim-witted tweens who haven't even sprouted a pair of tits yet? Whatever; not important.
But you know what is important? The fact that the pumpkin spice latte is on it's way back to a 'bucks near you in 9 short days. I will be the first in line to receive a single grande pumpkin spice frappuccino blended coffee, and a slice of sweet, sweet pumpkin loaf. September and October are certifiably my favourite months.
Fuck yeah!
P.S. That skank boifwend o' mine went and saw Inglourious Basterds without me tonight. Tarantino is dirty genius. I want my belly to be ripe with his seed.
Too weird? I want Taco Bell.
I can't get over pre-teens these days. I got my first cell phone when I was sixteen years old. Lately, I've seen kids as young as probably 10 toting keybo cell phone blackberry 3g phones - Hannah Montana ringtones, Hello Kitty cellphone charms. And these same kidlets are already slaves to Planet Starbucks, slurping down grande strawberries and cream frappuccinos purchased with the money their parents threw at them to get rid of them for the day. The worst part? They think they are so cool. Bitches.
...Wow, am I really this petty over a bunch of dim-witted tweens who haven't even sprouted a pair of tits yet? Whatever; not important.
But you know what is important? The fact that the pumpkin spice latte is on it's way back to a 'bucks near you in 9 short days. I will be the first in line to receive a single grande pumpkin spice frappuccino blended coffee, and a slice of sweet, sweet pumpkin loaf. September and October are certifiably my favourite months.
Fuck yeah!
P.S. That skank boifwend o' mine went and saw Inglourious Basterds without me tonight. Tarantino is dirty genius. I want my belly to be ripe with his seed.
Too weird? I want Taco Bell.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
rooms with views.
J Jenks has come and gone, and I once again feeling stranded on Gilligan's Island, less a Ginger to keep me company. And less a wedding folder to contribute to, 'cause I deleted it (explanation to follow: don't panic). Shit bricks!
I'm not a master of goodbyes. I spent the entire weekend reminding myself to not think about the fact that I'd have to put boyfriend back on a plane early Sunday morning. We got to the airport, I paid for the parking and held my breath for the moment I'd been dreading since Friday night, when I picked him up. I ignored the urge to pass the airport and make him miss his plane. I am now an unofficial fan of YYJ. But I held it together; I kept the tears in and swallowed the sick feeling that swelled up into my throat every 30 seconds like clockwork. I hid my shaking hands. A hug, a kiss and then off to go through security. I didn't want to look back because I knew I'd break down, but I did anyways. I didn't see him. My face felt hot as I walked towards the exit marked "arrivals" and stepped through puddles on my way to the car.
And then I just sat there, staring at my steering wheel. I sat there for a good 10 minutes, wondering why I've done this to myself. Knowing that every time I say goodbye, it'll be weeks before I say hello again. Worrying if we'll be the same people every time we step off the plane. And then I started the car and headed home, and I was good for a while. I made it about halfway before the tears had finally been built up beyond controlling anymore, and they came pouring out like an early morning rain. I cried until I got home, and then some, and so I lay in bed and just let myself cry until I fell asleep. I'm not a master of goodbyes. I won't ever be.
I am left, however, with the memory of an amazing weekend together. My house dances with the spirit of two people in love, there's foreign drool on the pillow next to mine and I have a collection of empty pop cans under the sink that I didn't consume. There's a receipt on my desk with his name on it from a credit card transaction and I can drive by Ross Bay Cemetery and think "that's not his family in there - we looked" and when I turned on my TV after he had been gone two days the channel was still set to TSN. I am left with the promise of the future - our future - and the knowledge that in 5 short weeks, we'll have another weekend to make memories. And in 11 long months, we'll have a lifetime of weekends together, if we want.
And so is the reasoning behind casting away all of the little wedding snippets I'd gathered. I can't sit at my computer and obsess over wedding invitations for dates that I've crossed my fingers I'd be engaged for - it's too taxing on my emotions in a way that I can't find words to explain. I am unofficially engaged to the most amazing man who, in a year from now, I can only keep my fingers crossed will still want me in the same way. And then some day it'll be official, and I can get officially excited, and make all of my official little plans and officially tell everybody I know that "I am going to be a wife!" Because to unofficially throw things together takes the excitement out of something being real and current - who knows, it might even be bad luck. My heart can wait and will wait for as long as it has to for someone to play for keeps. I have learned the patience of glaciers in my old age.
P.S. The Ikea 2010 catalogue is here! The Ikea 2010 catalogue is here!
I'm not a master of goodbyes. I spent the entire weekend reminding myself to not think about the fact that I'd have to put boyfriend back on a plane early Sunday morning. We got to the airport, I paid for the parking and held my breath for the moment I'd been dreading since Friday night, when I picked him up. I ignored the urge to pass the airport and make him miss his plane. I am now an unofficial fan of YYJ. But I held it together; I kept the tears in and swallowed the sick feeling that swelled up into my throat every 30 seconds like clockwork. I hid my shaking hands. A hug, a kiss and then off to go through security. I didn't want to look back because I knew I'd break down, but I did anyways. I didn't see him. My face felt hot as I walked towards the exit marked "arrivals" and stepped through puddles on my way to the car.
And then I just sat there, staring at my steering wheel. I sat there for a good 10 minutes, wondering why I've done this to myself. Knowing that every time I say goodbye, it'll be weeks before I say hello again. Worrying if we'll be the same people every time we step off the plane. And then I started the car and headed home, and I was good for a while. I made it about halfway before the tears had finally been built up beyond controlling anymore, and they came pouring out like an early morning rain. I cried until I got home, and then some, and so I lay in bed and just let myself cry until I fell asleep. I'm not a master of goodbyes. I won't ever be.
I am left, however, with the memory of an amazing weekend together. My house dances with the spirit of two people in love, there's foreign drool on the pillow next to mine and I have a collection of empty pop cans under the sink that I didn't consume. There's a receipt on my desk with his name on it from a credit card transaction and I can drive by Ross Bay Cemetery and think "that's not his family in there - we looked" and when I turned on my TV after he had been gone two days the channel was still set to TSN. I am left with the promise of the future - our future - and the knowledge that in 5 short weeks, we'll have another weekend to make memories. And in 11 long months, we'll have a lifetime of weekends together, if we want.
And so is the reasoning behind casting away all of the little wedding snippets I'd gathered. I can't sit at my computer and obsess over wedding invitations for dates that I've crossed my fingers I'd be engaged for - it's too taxing on my emotions in a way that I can't find words to explain. I am unofficially engaged to the most amazing man who, in a year from now, I can only keep my fingers crossed will still want me in the same way. And then some day it'll be official, and I can get officially excited, and make all of my official little plans and officially tell everybody I know that "I am going to be a wife!" Because to unofficially throw things together takes the excitement out of something being real and current - who knows, it might even be bad luck. My heart can wait and will wait for as long as it has to for someone to play for keeps. I have learned the patience of glaciers in my old age.
P.S. The Ikea 2010 catalogue is here! The Ikea 2010 catalogue is here!
Saturday, August 1, 2009
32 and climbing.
It's...August? Shocked!
I, uh...I just read my last post and realized that menstruation makes me an emotional wreck. Bi-polar, almost. Yeesh.
I'm folded onto my couch naked with my laptop right where the name implies, and I fully intend on staying here for the rest of the day. It's dirty hot out lately, but seeing as my bachelor pad is more A/C'd than a Reno casino, hiding from the sun is easier than ever. Plus wi-fi!
I was filling out a passport application form today and I suddenly feel like the Canadian government does not trust me. I am clearly not an illegal Mexican immigrant, so please fork over the official looking piece of nonsense $87 paper so I can go to the states and shop at Big Lots. kthxbye.
P.S. 6 DAYS!!! And, I was reunited with the mombalt yesterday. We made out passionately, as we missed each other immensely. Kind of like what I'll do with someone else in 6 DAYS!!! JKFHBKLF;ARBAKFANVCNDFAOSERIGHJB!!!!!
I, uh...I just read my last post and realized that menstruation makes me an emotional wreck. Bi-polar, almost. Yeesh.
I'm folded onto my couch naked with my laptop right where the name implies, and I fully intend on staying here for the rest of the day. It's dirty hot out lately, but seeing as my bachelor pad is more A/C'd than a Reno casino, hiding from the sun is easier than ever. Plus wi-fi!
I was filling out a passport application form today and I suddenly feel like the Canadian government does not trust me. I am clearly not an illegal Mexican immigrant, so please fork over the official looking piece of nonsense $87 paper so I can go to the states and shop at Big Lots. kthxbye.
P.S. 6 DAYS!!! And, I was reunited with the mombalt yesterday. We made out passionately, as we missed each other immensely. Kind of like what I'll do with someone else in 6 DAYS!!! JKFHBKLF;ARBAKFANVCNDFAOSERIGHJB!!!!!
Monday, July 27, 2009
tiny dancer
Today, the strap of my tank top slipped off my shoulder. Naturally, I reached across myself to put it back into place, and the palm of my hand brushed my naked shoulder - it scared me. Well, it didn't so much as scare me, it just surprised me? Then I started counting on my fingers and trying to remember the last time someone touched me.
And then I remembered: it was after my accident, so a week and a bit. In fact, 3 people touched me that day! The ambulance attendant put his hand on my shoulder and told me things would be okay, an older woman who I still do not know put her arm around me while I tried not to cry, and then a girl I work with hugged me, because she didn't know what else she could do for me. That hug was the first and only hug I have received since the mini-trip home, and it will probably be the only hug for another 11 days. This occurred to me just now, and I felt really sad.
And so, I hugged myself, because no one else will.
It was really good, too! I sat in bed and I hugged myself for 5 whole minutes. And I cried on my own shoulder, too, for the loss of such precious human connection. I never really realized how important hugs are, among other things, to everyday life.
But being sad about things you can't really control doesn't make much sense, so I stopped crying. It's kind of like crying over a dead celebrity - even if you felt like you knew them, you never really did, so why cry? I can't cry over the death of hugs I have never received. Maybe this is why people seek each other out, like men and women, I mean. That way, they will always have someone to hug, even when their friends have gone away. And maybe this is why people divorce each other, and why people cheat on each other, because they have forgotten to take the time to just hold one another. Is love not stated to be a basic human need?
And so I say:
J.Jenks., I will always hug you.
P.S. Ikea 2010 catalogue is coming out soon! Ikea 2010 catalogue is coming out soon!
And then I remembered: it was after my accident, so a week and a bit. In fact, 3 people touched me that day! The ambulance attendant put his hand on my shoulder and told me things would be okay, an older woman who I still do not know put her arm around me while I tried not to cry, and then a girl I work with hugged me, because she didn't know what else she could do for me. That hug was the first and only hug I have received since the mini-trip home, and it will probably be the only hug for another 11 days. This occurred to me just now, and I felt really sad.
And so, I hugged myself, because no one else will.
It was really good, too! I sat in bed and I hugged myself for 5 whole minutes. And I cried on my own shoulder, too, for the loss of such precious human connection. I never really realized how important hugs are, among other things, to everyday life.
But being sad about things you can't really control doesn't make much sense, so I stopped crying. It's kind of like crying over a dead celebrity - even if you felt like you knew them, you never really did, so why cry? I can't cry over the death of hugs I have never received. Maybe this is why people seek each other out, like men and women, I mean. That way, they will always have someone to hug, even when their friends have gone away. And maybe this is why people divorce each other, and why people cheat on each other, because they have forgotten to take the time to just hold one another. Is love not stated to be a basic human need?
And so I say:
J.Jenks., I will always hug you.
P.S. Ikea 2010 catalogue is coming out soon! Ikea 2010 catalogue is coming out soon!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
float on
H'okay, so:
Here are your hump day updates!
1. My hair looks like someone put a bowl on my head and cut around it with safety scissors. This is okay, because I am a good friend and let Kristi cut my hair for practice, even though I am horrified every time I look in the mirror. So, I guess the good thing I get out of this is that I made a friend and that hair grows. I may look like Stuart off a MAD TV sketch for a few months, but at least I can pin it back.
2. I won't be seeing the mombalt's sweet face until next Wednesday, so I'll be hoofin' it everywhere until then. This is slightly problematic for my work situation, but hey...at least I'm getting some good exercise. The only other thing that's got me down about not having wheels is that I can't do any sort of grocery shopping and believe me when I say that I have no food in my house. I found myself eating crackers with peanut butter and jam slathered on them last night in front of the tube. I realized where I was and I started sobbing - not out of sadness, but just out of boredom. I'll grab some basic groceries tomorrow after work and walk them home with me - fast, too, to prevent spoilage. I'm speed racer's cousin.
3. On another sad mombalt note, she's got $2600 worth of boo-boos. This makes me very sad, because my insurance deductible is $1000, which makes me go into a cold sweat. I've had to ask my pops for more cheddar, and it's lucky for me that he's got more G's in the bank than Scrooge McDuck. Now, on top of that, my insurance is going to reach the sky like Kanye and I've lost the sweet little discount I've accumulated over the years, thanks to my impeccable driving habits. Sweet, sweet sorrow. I'm getting over it, though, slowly but surely. Did I ever mention how clever penguins are? One told me that money can always be made more of, but I cannot. This has given me little smiles for every time I think about it. Isn't that nice?
4. I feel like Hurricane Blonde, with every little thing getting on my nerves and stressing me out. My mother explains to me that this is natural after having something traumatic occur. It's funny, it didn't even occur to me that my little incident was traumatic, but it really was. This is on top of the other shenanigans that have been making me feel a little less Doris and a little more Morticia lately, and I'm a big, overly sensitive train wreck. It's like, not only do I kind of wish I could just poof! and be back "home" and stop missing my luvah-luvah and my nieces and my fambly, but I'm also rethinking my decision to move here, and my major in school and every other little thing I could possibly doubt. I have been told, though, that doubt is about as useful as a fire escape when you're trying to dodge a tidal wave, so I'm just going to keep pressing on and get this year over with.
And then it's marital bliss, which keeps me ever optimistic and happy! Whee!
My mood is also not helped by the fact that I am counting down to the days when I see my special someone, my vagina is about to open the flood gates and I have an annoying habit of letting things that are out of my control get to me.
But other than that, I'd have to say I'm doing alright. These are all things that are just things that take time to sort out, and I've just got to be patient.
And it's okay to cry.
Here are your hump day updates!
1. My hair looks like someone put a bowl on my head and cut around it with safety scissors. This is okay, because I am a good friend and let Kristi cut my hair for practice, even though I am horrified every time I look in the mirror. So, I guess the good thing I get out of this is that I made a friend and that hair grows. I may look like Stuart off a MAD TV sketch for a few months, but at least I can pin it back.
2. I won't be seeing the mombalt's sweet face until next Wednesday, so I'll be hoofin' it everywhere until then. This is slightly problematic for my work situation, but hey...at least I'm getting some good exercise. The only other thing that's got me down about not having wheels is that I can't do any sort of grocery shopping and believe me when I say that I have no food in my house. I found myself eating crackers with peanut butter and jam slathered on them last night in front of the tube. I realized where I was and I started sobbing - not out of sadness, but just out of boredom. I'll grab some basic groceries tomorrow after work and walk them home with me - fast, too, to prevent spoilage. I'm speed racer's cousin.
3. On another sad mombalt note, she's got $2600 worth of boo-boos. This makes me very sad, because my insurance deductible is $1000, which makes me go into a cold sweat. I've had to ask my pops for more cheddar, and it's lucky for me that he's got more G's in the bank than Scrooge McDuck. Now, on top of that, my insurance is going to reach the sky like Kanye and I've lost the sweet little discount I've accumulated over the years, thanks to my impeccable driving habits. Sweet, sweet sorrow. I'm getting over it, though, slowly but surely. Did I ever mention how clever penguins are? One told me that money can always be made more of, but I cannot. This has given me little smiles for every time I think about it. Isn't that nice?
4. I feel like Hurricane Blonde, with every little thing getting on my nerves and stressing me out. My mother explains to me that this is natural after having something traumatic occur. It's funny, it didn't even occur to me that my little incident was traumatic, but it really was. This is on top of the other shenanigans that have been making me feel a little less Doris and a little more Morticia lately, and I'm a big, overly sensitive train wreck. It's like, not only do I kind of wish I could just poof! and be back "home" and stop missing my luvah-luvah and my nieces and my fambly, but I'm also rethinking my decision to move here, and my major in school and every other little thing I could possibly doubt. I have been told, though, that doubt is about as useful as a fire escape when you're trying to dodge a tidal wave, so I'm just going to keep pressing on and get this year over with.
And then it's marital bliss, which keeps me ever optimistic and happy! Whee!
My mood is also not helped by the fact that I am counting down to the days when I see my special someone, my vagina is about to open the flood gates and I have an annoying habit of letting things that are out of my control get to me.
But other than that, I'd have to say I'm doing alright. These are all things that are just things that take time to sort out, and I've just got to be patient.
And it's okay to cry.
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