day 11700: toe-may-toe... toe-mah-toe... poe-tay-toe... poe-tah-toe

Last night I dreamt that I was exiled to space as part of a corrupt government scam. Rose Petal calls me a freak. I prefer to say that I have an overactive dream imagination.

Now if only I could harness my powers for good instead of evil...

day 11688: dogspeak

arrrr arrr wror rowr rowr arrrr arf rowr woof!

Translation:
Hi Mommy! Happy Birthday, I made you a present for your birthday! It's a giant stinky turd. Woof!

day 11687: happy birthday to me...

Almost halfway to retirement! YEEHAW!

day 11685: reach out and touch yourself

In an effort to "find" myself and "refocus" my thoughts, my therapist suggested that I write down all my dreams.

If my dreams are to be believed, I'm supposed to be angrily married to Asshat and pregnant with a lot of other people's babies. Oh man... the horror... no more midnight snacking before bed!

day 11684: once upon a time, i did blog about serious things

I'm a little envious of my 20 year old cousin. She knows exactly what she's doing and where she's heading even though she's 12 years younger than I am.

11682: "people who hold signs go on to hold many things"aka...more randomania:

~ The puppy is teething. I'm finding teeth on the floor of my place. Cute little puppy teeth, but really kinda gross when you think about it. Must vacuum this weekend.
~ The day I don't wear black to work, everyone notices.
~ Guys should not use the words "fake and bake" when talking to other guys... especially when they're talking about the other guy's tan.
~ Everybody likes free things... not all free things are good.
~ It's Friday night and I have nothing to do except heading to the indoor dog park. Sweet.

day11681b: revelation on why I repeated told my sister I hated her on day 11679

schmassion: I’m in love!!
bowlergirl: what colour is he?
schmassion: um… pink, I suppose … ???
bowlergirl: the last time you msg’d me that you were in love, it was with a dog! I can’t keep it straight anymore!
schmassion: Oh yeah. This time he’s human.

Really… why do I get the world’s crappiest tenant while Sista gets the world’s hottest tenant? Life isn’t just isn’t fair!

day 11681: did i miss something?

Yesterday, I woke up with the feeling that something awesomely wonderful was going to happen. Nothing happened.

Today I'm disappointed. Sucky.

day 11678: one of the times where I just want to kick them in the balls

I hate cheaters, especially those who try to cheat in a recreational sports league. It’s supposed to be a fun game of dodgeball, but when the other team is trying to maim your team with balls whipped at your heads, there’s only so much you can do to try to reign in your temper.

Fecking pieces of crap. I’m still angry.

day 11677: on speeding through dates

You know… I don’t know why guys aren’t knocking down my door trying to date me. I’m frickin cool. Well, the old me was more frickin cool because new me is just tired from running around all the time. But I’m still frickin cool. So what if I don’t hold my liquor as well as I used to, or that I’m a wee bit more disgruntled and disengaged than I used to be. I’m a heck of a lot more interesting than a couch-sitting, soap-opera-obsessing, brainless dimwit with hair down to her waist and boobs the size of small cantaloupes. And BONUS, I have those too. Sucks to be me, I know. I have it all.

So what is it about speed dating? Eight minutes to introduce yourself. Eight minutes to figure out if you ever want to see that person again and eight minutes to decide if you like someone? WHILE THERE’S AN OPEN BAR?! Are you kidding me? I can’t make decisions when I’m drunk. And I can’t NOT drink when I’m paying $8.89 cents per date which was probably $3.88/date too much considering that I felt like I was dating boring versions of my cousins. The asian part of me had to get my money’s worth.

Where was the chemistry and the lightning bold? WHERE THE HECK WAS INDIVIDUALITY? All look same, all sound same? Nine conversations of almost exactly the same thing – all in finance, IT, business… all like to watch tv, go out to restaurants and watch movies? Sigh. I felt like I was on a job interview talking to headhunters and recruiters… what are your strengths and weaknesses? How would you describe yourself in three words? As something different, people… get a life… tell me an interesting story, tell me what motivates you to get up in the morning… tell me something different!!

Don’t get me wrong. It was fun – a lot more fun than I had expected. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting very much. But apart from the guy who spent 5 minutes (of the 8) trying to convince me that someone in my ancestral history had an affair with a gwei-lo, the guy who complained about someone breaking into his car a few years ago, the unfunny guy who described himself as being witty and humourous and the guy who still saw his parents everyday, they were all ok interesting people. Just no one I was particularly interested in dating.

Then again, I do have am automatic tendency to lump everyone into the friendzone… maybe eight minutes just isn’t enough time for them to get out.

*ding*

day 11666: last wednesday i went speed dating

*ding*

day 11655: so very, very, very tired

I’m burnt out. There. I’ve said it. Between the evil monkeyco, the cakes-that-fall-over, krazy gluing things to myself, Monday night sports league, Tuesday night bowling and the new schmutt, I’m stretched thin to the point of snapping.

My stress level is sky-high and there’s not that much I can do about it. I’ve tried pulling back from my stressors and walking away, but people won’t leave me alone. I’m tired… very tired… and very, very cranky. The only thing I’m really capable of doing is locking my doors, pulling my curtains shut and hiding away from the world.

I’m trying to learn how to say no. So step one… to all those out there who want a favour. No. Step two… to all those out there who want something free… No. Step three… to all those out there who want a bit of my time. No. Step four… to all those who want anything wedding related… hell no… I’m done for the year – come find me next year… maybe.

I’m off to hibernate. Grrr.

day 11632: shellshocked

Things I’ve learned from 6 days with the schmutt (aka Whiskey Boo):

1. I do not speak puppy.
2. Schmutt does not speak people.
3. Black dog on a dark unlit lawn in suburbia = magically disappearing dog.
4. Take all puppy books and throw it out the window.
5. Not everyone watches the same dog training shows.
6. Schmutt is smarter than the Toot.
7. Schmutt may possibly be smarter than me.
8. The Dogs have selective hearing.
9. It doesn’t matter whose toy it actually is. It will always end up with the Toot.
10. Introducing new dog to old dog went better than expected.
11. Things have gone somewhat downhill since then.
12. Going out for 8 walks a day is tiring.
13. Going out for 8 walks a day is the only way to save my carpet.
14. Crate training is a blessing.
15. Schmutt is a people magnet. She especially likes the boys. Me too.

day 11629: is this the magic school bus?

Every morning I pass by a big yellow school bus waiting for commuters to take them to god knows where. Some things never change. The cool kids still sit in the back of the bus with their wide open business pages and the front seats are still occupied by the coke-bottle-glasses-wearing-geeks.

Playground rules rock.

day 11618: sausalito

There's some kind of fishing boat hanging around in the bay below us. The fog in the distance rolled in with the sunrise and seems to have settled in for the day. For a brief moment stillness hangs in the air and I think for a split second that I am all alone and that if I try really hard, I can fly.

day 11609: introducing the new schmutt

Well, I finally broke the news to the maternal one that she was getting another grandfurkid. So, fair game... everyone gets to know that there's a new schmutt on the way.

17 days... and counting.

day ?????: what the hell?

I don't think it's humanly possible for anyone to be more disappointed in themselve than I am at this very moment.

What the hell happened to me this past year? When did I lose control?

day 11590: torn

For those of you who know me, you know that my dog is my life. I love that little ball of white fluff more than anything else in this world and I can honestly say that there have been times where she was the only thing I loved in this world.

She's a fantastic puppy and if I could clone her without her heart condition, I would do it a million times over. She's been the best thing that's ever happened to me and I know that I'm a better person (and a different person) from having her in my life.

It was really hard to hear that our time is limited and that she only has a few years to go. I have a lot of difficulty accepting it and don't like thinking about it or talking about it. I know I'll have to deal with it eventually, but I'm putting it off until another time.

For years, I've wanted to get her a friend. Another puppy that she can relate with and bond with. Something else of her kind for me to baby so that they two of them can sleep intertwined on my bed. But for years, I've listened to everyone else around me telling me how much of a princess she is and how much of an "only-child" she is etc etc. And for years, they were right. We weren't ready to grow our little family.

I've been rethinking things for the past half a year - constantly going over the what-ifs and why-nots in my mind. What if they don't like each other, what if Toot gets too tired playing with the puppy... and while still racked with guilt over the possible negative why-nots, I've come to a conclusion - to be frank, I can't deal with an empty house when Toot goes. The emptiness will kill me.

So guess what, boys and girls... the Toot and I are getting a puppy.

day 11587: my own kitchen nightmare

I dreamt last night that I was competing on Iron Chef in a cook-off against some seasoned pros. Gordon Ramsey was one of the judges and went on and on about amateur chefs and started harshly criticizing my technique when it came to pan frying a piece of fish that refused to cook through. It was just fish, for god’s sake!

Frustrated, I stormed out of Kitchen Stadium and came back a few minutes later with my trump card and his comeuppance… a half melted chocolate popsicle rolled in deep fried pulverized fish skin. Yum.

day11583: double standards

I find myself doing a double take every time I see a middle-aged asian woman standing outside smoking. It looks really out of place to me and I’m not sure why… well, maybe because all my asian chick ancestors are paragons of virtue and have no vices whatsoever. Or maybe they’re just really good at hiding whatever it is that they do.

Just like I do.

day 11581 11582: randomania

1. Apathy vs. Empathy

Darn this whole ESL business. Who knew that two little words would make such a big difference. Ok, I’m not really ESL and I didn’t actually use the words incorrectly, but to those who are and have, there’s a whole lot of difference between being apathetic and empathetic. i.e. You should be empathetic that I am apathetic as I no longer give a shit about anything anymore.

2. Attention Deficit Dis… huh?

I did a whole bunch of tests that all ended up saying that it’s highly probably that I have ADD… which explains a hell of a lot of the idiocy that is my life, the craziness that surrounds me, my extreme BOREDOM of all that lies around me, and why I can’t keep a straight thought going in my head for more than 5 minutes.

NOTE: these weren’t silly little online tests either… they were highly in-depth, detailed, multiple questioned tests that I actually had to sit and pay attention to. But given the way through which I zoomed through the two 120-130 questioned tests, I really wonder if I actually have ADD. Then again, it did take me about 4 months worth of procrastinating to get through them, and I actually forgot about the second test until I went back and tried to retake the first test to get a better score.

3. Cure-All-For-Boredomness

I need a new hobby. I need a new love interest. Hell, I just need something to do that will put a little excitement back into my life. That whole cake making thing... yeah, what of it? I came, I saw, I did, I rocked it out. But now it’s over and I’m fat from eating all that cake. I don’t even like cake. Well, I didn’t before. Now I like it a bit too much. There’s something wrong with that picture. Wait, I don’t even want to see that picture.

Oh yeah… and for all you with hobby suggestions, I need a suggestion OTHER THAN going to the bar. Cuz I’ve been doing a little too much of that as well. Let’s go for hobby suggestions other than something that involves putting thngs in my mouth. Crap, I suppose I can’t have a new love interest either then. Shit. Just joking. Right.

4. Growing up sucks

Ok, vet bills and automatic number formatting suck more. But seriously, growing up and having a mortgage and having to force myself to save money for retirement AND not winning the lottery really, really, really sucks. Now instead of going traipsing around Egypt and Dubai for a few weeks, I can only afford to fly to San Fran on points and prostrate myself in front of Sista and the NEWBRO begging for mercy accommodations and a piece of floor upon which I can lay my head. But, hey, who’s complaining… not me!!! Lucky duck Sista and NEWBRO have a killer, killer view of the ocean. Maybe we can hit up French Laundry… hint hint hint…

5. Irony

For someone who hates weddings as much as I do, I kind of picked a really funny side-business to involve myself in. Not that I’m complaining about either cake or weddings or wedding cake… I’m just making a strange observation about myself…

6. I'm asian and can't do math...

Miscounted my days again... sigh...

day 11580: echoes from the past

“What a waste…”

… of time… of money… it didn’t really matter. Five ex-students and only one remained minorly involved with music. The rest of us left our burgeoning musical careers far behind us in the dust of dreams and innocence. We waited for inspiration, but there wasn't any. There was only the requirement of accomplishment and the obligatory drive for success.

So sad. I suppose I should take it up again... on the flip side, teaching myself how to play the guitar has been pretty easy so far...

day 11579: chasing the dream… the token Olympics post

I’ve always wanted to be in the Olympics. Never mind that there isn’t a particular sport that I excel at (or am even half decent at, for that matter), I still want to live the dream. I want to walk amongst my fellow country(wo)men waving enthusiastically at hundreds of thousands of eye-blinding camera flashes.

I know I’m just north of thirty, but it’s not too late. There’s a fifty-something year old fencer, a couple of thirty-something swimmers, and then there’s 61year old Ian Millar who just won a medal by sitting well on a horse… ok, there’s more to the sport than that. But what I’m getting at is that there’s a whole slew of things I can try and get really, really good at within the next 3-4 years so I can make the next set of Olympic games. And then if not, there’s always curling and the winter games to aim for. Sweet.

But I gotta say one thing… what the hell is with the Canada flag on Ian Millar’s helmet? It makes him look like he’s wearing a pair of panties on his head.


(pic from the associated press)

day 11578: take a pair of earplugs and a valium... and don't call me in the morning

There's nothing quite as disconcerting as a large group of pre-teens simultaneously shrieking, "OH MY GOD, THAT'S THE CUTEST DOG EVER!" just as you walk by.

day 11572: why yes, i do suffer from colossal fingers in mouth disease!

Text to Posie while standing in line waiting to pick up my now-fixed-formerly-possessed cellphone:
"I'm standing in the slowest line in the world at the Rogers store..."

20 minutes pass by...

Said the Rogers guy to me, "Um, do you want to finish sending your text?"

Darn... oops... forgot to hit delete. How's that for instant feedback, dude?

day 11565: what i've been doing instead of blogging

day 11545: the stupid things we do because our brains are a little less overstimilated than usual

IM to the coworker with the broken thumb:

"Heyyyyyyyyyyyyy... we're doing a cross Canada hitchhiking competition... wanna be on our team?"

day 11543: where are you?

I know you're there and I hear your call. But I didn't answer years back when you beckoned to me from England and I refuse to listen now that you tempting me from the misty green fields of Ireland.

You devil. Why don't you just come here?

Seriously.

The signs are there. I'm not listening, but I feel it in my gut that I shouldn't be where I am now.

day 11515: you know, cuz I don’t have a crapload of other things to think about

Dear Ma,

I know that Sista’s wedding is coming up, and that’s the ONLY thing on your mind… but you know, I have a life too and I have other things to think about.

So, when I call you to tell you that the cardiologist told me this morning that my darling Tootsie-pop’s prognosis was not good and that that she is only a year or two away from congestive heart disease, the last thing on my mind is anything related to Sista’s wedding.

No offense, but when someone’s heart is breaking, a dress fitting really is the last thing on their mind.

Your timing is impeccable. Hell, at this moment, the way I’m feeling, I’m just going to duct tape the hem if I have to. Screw that.

Your other daughter,

Schmassion.

day 11497: now i know what my parents went through

My darling Princess Poop-a-lot, aka Tootsie-pop, aka Tootsie-loo has a heart murmur. That frickin sucks. She's not as invincible as we though and now who knows what will happen.

Luckily, we caught it early so rounds of testing and treatment to be done asap. Maybe I should have sprung for the pet insurance when I had a chance... dammit.

I wish I understood more about myself...

I can’t tell you why I cry. Only that they aren’t always tears of joy or tears of happiness. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. I can’t. I don’t know why I cry. I don’t know why I feel the way I do. I don’t even know what it is that I feel; just an overwhelming urge to melt into a blubbering pool of wrinkled silk and snotty tissues. Some girls cry pretty tears. I cry a deluge of muddy rainwater and puff up like the day after a binge on wine and salt.

Wedding season has started. One down. Five to go.

The one yesterday left me emotionally destroyed and had me sobbing like a babe the entire drive home and late into the night. A day later and random tears still threaten to fall without a moments notice. It really is very much of an inconvenience. The inside corner of my right eye is raw from trying to wipe the tears away surreptitiously without people knowing that I’m crying. Because then they think I’m an emotional fool and I don’t want anyone thinking that, even though they might be right.

I don’t have wedding anxiety. Wedding anxiety is for the bride. I have attendance anxiety. Somewhere along the line, I began to dread weddings, and now it’s to the point where my emotional state is being threatened and it takes me days to recover. My chest tightens at the thought of weddings. It shouldn’t. Perhaps I’m making a much bigger deal out of this than I should. Perhaps I should do as everyone says and be an adult and suck it up. But I can’t and it scares me. Yesterday, as I drove to the ceremony and later again as I drove to the reception, I had thoughts of crashing my car into the concrete barriers so that I would have a legitimate excuse not to go. Death over attendance. I’m terrified of my own thoughts.

It wasn’t always so. Early on, the random tears feel at the appropriate sappy moments – the moment the groom’s voice breaks during the vow, the father-daughter dance, the speech where the parents welcome the new child into the family. I giggled at the slideshow, laughed at the raunchy games and groaned with the rest of the guests at the corny jokes the best man would make about how the groom didn’t deserve such a great woman. And then everything changed and the tears stopped being pretty.

Weddings suddenly became cookie cutter affairs. A thirty minute ceremony, pose for pictures with the bride and groom, followed by a night of awkward eating and drinking. Weddings aren’t as great a place for meeting up as people think they are – especially the Chinese 20 course banquets where food flows continuously for 4 hours along with the entertainment and speeches. Change the couple and repeat two weeks later – same food, same entertainment, same people. The only thing different – weddings were no longer happy occasions, they were occasions for the tears and the fear. Nothing is changing except for me and my “negativity”.

The feelings are intensifying with each occasion. The fear, the loneliness, the dread, the anxiety, the disappointment, the resentment, the knowledge that my father won’t be there for the father-daughter dance, the belly clenching moment where I know that I’m losing control of myself… they’re all growing. I don’t want to be this way. It’s not acceptable to me that I am this way. I hate how I feel, but I hate more that I can’t control the way I feel. I hate even more that I don’t understand why I feel this way. And I hate even more that if I don't get this under control, my family and the people I am closest to will reject me for something they don't understand because I don't understand.

Don’t get me wrong. I beg this of you. I am over the moon and around the corner happy for anyone getting married. Why I can’t be happy in person is something I do not understand. I am I trying to. I am trying to fight this every step of the way. But it has become overwhelming and the darkness is winning. I’m sorry I can’t be a better person. I’m sorry if it seems like I can’t be what I should be. I really want to be. I am trying really hard to be.

day 11451: beauty ballet school drop-out

A couple of months ago, in a vow to shake things up a bit and step outside of our all-consuming self-confining boxes, TAB (former QWW) and I signed up for seven weeks of ballet classes. We were going to be the epitomes of Audrey Hepburn-esque grace, elegance and beauty. While she is addicted to Dancing With the Stars, this was going to be MY life changing experience...

Except that I forgot to consider my elephant-stomping gait, my extreme tendency to be a klutz and the fact that the classes are on Friday nights, and I've got better things to do on a Friday night then hang around in a class full of girls. (I'm kidding... kind of...)

Six classes later, three of which I've missed, I've been forced to come to terms with the fact that no one will ever use the words "grace", "elegance" or "beauty" when referring to me, and that I will indeed flunk out of Ballet for the Uncordinated and will not be graduating to Ballet 101 with the rest of the co-ordinated class.

I will admit, however, that I stubbornly clung to the my self-aggrandizing illusion that I was an undiscovered dance prodigy - that is, of course, until the second time I hit the floor mid-pirouette.

day 11449: bored

bored. bored. bore.d bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bore.d bore.d bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bpored. bored. bored. bored. bored bore. borel.d bptre. bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bored. bore.d bored. bored. bored. bore.d bored. bored. bored. bored. bored.

day 11437: and now, the time is near

I've waited anxiously for the past few months for this day to come, and now that it's finally here, I'm not really ready to step out and make the little hole in the sky my home.

I'm not packed. My little condo doesn't look like it's from the pages of a design magazine, and my kitchen-to-be is not even half the size of my current bakeshop in the basement.

Soon... the house warming party is soon...

day 11430: sometimes even I wonder what the heck I've been smoking

I supposed I shouldn't have gorged myself at China Buffet King, but then again, it could have been the drugs I took before my nap that made me a little hallucinagenic... but, hey, I'm sicccckkkk and drugs are my best friend... BUT SUDDENLY, out of the wild blue yonder, I'm dreaming in technicolour and in music. I dreamt an entire musical starring Will Farrell, his privates (in a wierd painted puppetry of the wee-wee kind of way) and some relatively unknown actors.

The musical was about two students and darn it if it wasn't pretty good - they're studying late into the night and overhear a chemistry professor talking to someone else about taking over the world and how he's got his students working on different parts of his evil nefarious plan... but that's not the weird part. The weird part was the wierd painted puppetry of the wee-wee thing. There was a lot of body paint involved and they did a whole Sleepless in Seattle flying across the country bit with one guy painted like the USA and Will's wee-wee being painted like a plane.

Wait... it get's worse... at one point, Will bent over, stuck out his fingers and somehow, there was the American bald eagle symbol painted on his ass and his fingers were the talons.

Things are a little hazy, but I think you get my point... I'm certifiably looney and I blame the drugs. I need help...

day 11419: wishing on a star that i could still be far, far away

day 11410: man oh man, i lead a hard life

Off to surf Costa Rica. Back in a few.

day 11403: please, please don't out me

Here's the thing. I'm trying to get my cake business going, and I really don't want to have a crapload of people who know me reading this blog (including the maternal one). So I've taken my flickr link off this page and made it a smidge harder for people to find this.

If you know me, please don't out me, cuz if you do, just remember, karma's a bitch and I'll have to track you down and smother you with cake.

day 11401: jumping outside my box

Two things I never thought I'd ever do:

1) Go to an all asian networking function.

2) Give up meat for Lent.

Giving up meat was a lot easier.

day 11397: my engrish.com

day 11393: the bestest anti valentines day present ever!

Thanks Kim!

day 11390: newsflash... you live in canada... it snows here

So it just took me over two hours to drive home from work. I missed my beach volleyball game and I sat behind a lot of idiot drivers with more money than brains. I'm tired, hungry, peeved off like nothing else, and argh... days like these I really wish I drove a convertible so I could throw snowballs at people who piss me off.

Here's the thing, people - it's CANADA. It snows here. Get used to it. I know global warming and all the crap has totally destroyed our historically brutal winters, but HEY, guess what... IT STILL SNOWS HERE. And sometimes, it snows A LOT.

Granted, there's probably been more snow this year than the past two combined, but you'd think that by "snowstorm" number 4 [ed note: I don't think the rest of the country would classify some of these as snowstorms], you'd figure out any one of the following:

1. Hey, it snows here! Maybe, if you're terrified of driving in the snow, you should take the subway, or the bus, or anything else that doesn't require you getting behind the wheel. Trust me, the rest of us don't want to sit behind you going at 15 km/h.

2. Hey, it snows here! Maybe you should REALLY REALLY REALLY consider getting a set of snowtires. They don't call them snowtires for nothing!!! Let's see... who do I know that has slid into a ditch because they don't have snowtires - an uncle, a cousin, a few friends, asshat, asshat's friend, the maternal one's ex, the maternal one's bf's son... how many cars were totalled again? 4...5...8?

3. Hey, it snows here! Maybe you should STAY OFF THE ROAD for a while until things clear up a bit. Unless of course, your wife is just about to deliver a baby or you have a beach volleyball game to get to. Of something else, equally important.

4. Hey, it snows here! Maybe you shouldn't be such an idiot driver. Maybe, you shouldn't cut in front of the lane next to me to make a sudden left turn. Maybe, you shouldn't be a complete moron and do it because you saw the guy in front of you do it, and maybe, just maybe, you should use you brain a little instead of constantly looking at the pretty colours on your GPS that's telling you that you're going all of 15 km/h.

5. Hey, it snows here! Maybe, if you can afford this Lexus, BMW, Mercedes, Porsche (insert other luxury car), you shouldn't be afraid to use it. Assuming, of course, that if said person can afford the car, they can also afford a set of SNOWTIRES.

6. Hey, it snows here! Maybe, if you're being all environmentally friendly and ride a bike everywhere, YOU SHOULDN'T BE FIXING YOUR BIKE ON THE ROAD. I don't care if you think you're in the bike lane. Move to the sidewalk. People almost killed you, but you wouldn't know it, would you, as you were bent over your tires with your ass up in the air to all the slipping cars around you THAT DON'T HAVE WINTER TIRES! (ps. props to the guy on the green scooter, but seriously, park that thing and pick it up tomorrow.)

7. Hey, it snows here! Visibility is low when the wind is blowing all that freshly fallen powder around. If you're smart enough to walk (because it's a heck of a lot faster than driving), you should be smart enough not to jaywalk! WE CAN'T SEE YOU! It only takes one idiot middle-aged balding driver in a Mercedes sport-something or rather who thinks he can drive through half a foot of snow on a sporty set of summer tires to make you into a nice little bloody pancake.

8. Hey, it snows here! If you don't know what to do when your car loses traction and starts skidding, maybe you should go to skid school or take some more driving lessons, because you definitely do not deserve to be behind the wheel of a car.

Idiots. Use your brains.

day 11388: disillusioned...

... but trying not to be...

day 11384: blasphemy

schmassion says: give up sex for lent... i did.
Posie says: good idea! but...aren't we supposed to give up something sacrificial? i.e. something we actually enjoy?
schmassion says: give up foreplay

day 11383: punk'd

As a child, I loved pulling pranks on people. Unfortunately, I wasn't the most creative crayon in the neighbourhood, so my pranks were really simple and really stupid... things like putting big white KICK ME signs on black chairs hoping that the teachers wouldn't see them.

But the all time kicker... sticking new maxi pads onto classroom doors. Cuz, like, that was really gross to a 11 year old in the dark ages.

day 11382: my ass needs a good breakup

Some days I get tired of being single. Trips cost more when you’re on your own, there’s no one to drive you home or split a cab with after you’ve had a few too many, and showing up to family functions alone (again) is probably a fate worse than death.

“Yes Grandma, I have friends… no Grandma, they’re not boys… no Grandma, there’s nothing wrong with me… yes Grandma, I know I need to get out more… no Grandma, I don’t spend all my time on the couch… no Grandma, I didn’t know that I’m gaining weight... thank you SO much for pointing it out to me.” Repeat with grandaunts, granduncles, aunts, uncles, long-lost cousins etc. Blah blah blah.

These days I’m tired of being single for another reason altogether. I need someone to breakup with. My weight is slowly creeping up and a good breakup always helps me get things down a bit. So, for the love of all that is good and holy in the world, here’s hoping that I find a boyfriend soon.

day 11381: on behalf of all the bitter, jaded bridesmaids of the world

Read this.

I am incessed and livid at the level of expectation required by the bridezillas of the world.

I would love nothing more than to blog about this and express how I truly feel, but for now, I am refraining.

But this I promise you... IF EVER THERE CAME A TIME WHERE I ACTUALLY NEEDED BRIDESMAIDS, I WILL NEVER, EVER BE LIKE THIS. Screw you.

(Ed note: this is a comment on the burgeoning ecocentric nature of our so-called-society)

day 11378: zip this

I’ve been trying to be economically conscious these days so I’ve been packing a lunch to eat at my desk at Monkeyco. (Once I’m here my lazy ass doesn’t like to be parted from my comfy cracked faux leather seat.)

Admittedly, I’m not as environmentally conscious as I am economically conscious, so occasionally I’ll stuff my handful of grapes or cookies into a Ziploc bag instead of toting around a skunky old Tupperware container. However, dog-owner that I am, I do save my baggies to use as future poop-and-scoop props.

Except I forgot that living with the maternal one has made me an incredible lazy dog owner who just lets her dog poop all over the front lawn. Now I have a growing collection of slightly used Ziploc bags at my desk that I’m not quite sure what to do with.

Maybe I should post them on Craigslist.

day 11377: why qww and i are friends...

schmassion: i used to have pet earthworms that i carried around in tic tac boxes
QWW: explains a lot
schmassion: like what?
QWW: my sister and i had a hospital
schmassion: what kind of hospital?
QWW: for worms

day 11375: for what it’s worth

It seems like every day there’s another subway delay. This morning, I was 40 minutes late for work. Last week, I was late 3 out of 5 days – all because of things that happened on the subway. Minor fires and typical signal problems led to delays which led to people becoming a little too hot and bothered and everything snowballed when someone with an itchy trigger finger activated the passenger alarm.

This morning’s delay was excessive – even the CGM of the TTC was late for a meeting with the TTC chairman. Mechanical problems started a chain reaction which culminated into a passenger alarm activated on my southbound train. Someone was overcome by the heat and passed out, the entire train was evacuated and paramedics called.

Like everyone else, I bitch and moan about being crammed into a packed subway car with hundreds of other sweaty, anxious people. I hate being pressed up close to people. In an ideal world, my personal space is such that I can stick out both my arms and turn around in a full circle without hitting anyone. I hate more than anything to be late… even if it is for work.

But here’s the thing – no matter how inconvenience you are, you really shouldn’t make light of the situation. It might be funny to you when you call the office to tell them that “another person bit the dust,” or that it was “your typical Monday morning hostage taking,” but to the rest of us who are smashed into the train with you (me, having let 3 trains pass already because it was too full to get on), you sound like an insensitive, selfish ass who doesn’t realize that 5 trains ahead of you, there really is someone still lying on the floor because the paramedics couldn’t get through the crowd and into the train before it pulled out of the station – all because they tried to speed up service.

For what it’s worth though… I do have questions about this morning’s fiasco:

1. To the people standing outside the windows of the car of the fallen guy – why do you continue to watch when you know that the poor guy deserves his privacy?

2. To the TTC logistics people – when you stopped the northbound train and evacuated it to send it southbound, why didn’t you direct the hoards of people standing on the platform to get onto the train so as to clear out some of the congestion?

3. To the TTC logistics people, the paramedics, the police officers – why weren’t you better coordinated so that the paramedics could actually get onto the train to help the guy, instead of pulling away from the station just as they got there?

4. To the CGM and the chairman of the TTC – Can you please take this as a sign that something must change?

day 11368: ah brain, don't fail me now

Little by little, my mind is slowly fading. What once was crisp and clear is now a hazy fuzz of grey. I can't remember things anymore and my once astounding knowledge of useless facts has dwindled down to a mere handful. Either a lot of things have changed in ancient history over the past few years, or I'm completely losing it.

day 11363: the thing about me

Sometimes I wish I lived a much more exciting life. I fantasize about winning the lottery and having the ability to just pick up on a whim and fly to the corners of the globe.

Sometimes I wish I didn't live such an exciting life. I dream about the days that I can curl up with a mug of steaming hot tea, reading a book on a cold winters day.

Sometimes I wish I knew what it is that I really want in life. I wish for a day that I can go to bed at night and whisper to myself, "I am happy" and fall asleep with a smile on my face.

Most of the time, though, I wish I wouldn't walk around muttering to myself. People around me are starting to think that I'm nuts.

day 11360: Uh-Oh...

Do you feel sad or irritable?
YES, PISS OFF. IF I DON'T, WOULD I BE DOING THIS QUESTIONAIRE?

Have you lost interest in activities you once enjoyed?
YES

Have you experienced changes in weight or appetite?
YES

Have you experienced changes in sleeping pattern?
I CAN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME I SLEPT THROUGH A NIGHT.

Do you experience feelings of guilt?
YES. I'M ASIAN.

Are you unable to concentrate, remember things, or make decisions?
SORRY, CAN YOU REPEAT THE QUESTION?

Have you experienced fatigue or loss of energy?
ZZZZ...

Have you experienced restlessness or decreased activity noticed by others?
YES.

Do you feel hopeless or worthless?
HOPELESS, YES. WORTHLESS, NO.

Have you had thoughts of suicide or death?
DON'T WE ALL?

day 11347: happiness is in finding your inner bahama mama

I couldn't take the endless snow and cold of the Canadianana winter, so QWW, Posie and I hopped onto a jet plane and took off for warmer waters where we spent a backbreaking few days getting things for free and baking ourselves golden in the sun.

Now that I'm back, I can quite freely say - I HATE BEING COLD... I WANT TO MOVE SOMEWHERE WARM AND HOT AND SURROUNDED BY ENDLESS VISTAS OF CLEAR BLUE WATER.

The SAD and the bitterness is back with a vengeance. Someone find me when the sun starts shining again. Ugh.

Happy New Year anyway.