day 11736: nearing the end

I'm sitting here drinking Prosecco from the bottle procrastinating from doing the work I know I have to do. I should be sleeping or at best relaxing to prep myself for yet another full day of complete bah-humbuggery that is only a short, few hours away.

I'm close to ending it. I don't think I can take this anymore.

What a waste of a perfectly good life. I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

day 11735: chain

Back in the day, at elementary school #5, we used to have to go to another classroom and grade the younger kids as they read to us from the Victory Drill (i.e. some strange Christian reading tool where you read as fast as you can for a minute and someone else listens to hear if you're pronouncing the words correctly, thereby ensuring that you move through the ranks of private school semi-literal). My kid could barely read, but the kid in front was a superstar.

I would never had thought of it, except that somehow this morning I started thinking about China, then about my trip to China, then about how Da paid hotel concierge to lend us their bikes so we could ride through the Chinese countryside, then about how we met up with my sister's grade 3 teacher in HK where we gave her a turbobroiler and she bought us some of those old handheld Nintendo beep-beep games and then about the old elementary school #5... and then somehow I started thinking about the Victory Drill and how they thought I was giving the kid low marks because I was being a bully to her, but in reality I could barely hear her, and she really was pronouncing the words incorrectly - which was probably because she was nervous and scared of me, but what the heck.... and why did I waste 10 minutes of my morning thinking and blogging about this in one really long run-on sentence?

day 11734: irony, thoust be my dog's name

Whiskey, aka THE BRAT, is a ball of constant energy. She is cute, she is hyper... she is the typical lab and chews everything under the sun - including the electrical cords. Marley is nothing next to the dog who electrocuted herself and woke up the next morning to try to do it all over again. You'd think she'd learn.

She doesn't. Not really.

She shreds papers, jumps up onto the counter, hides under the bed and eats my booger-filled tissues from the toilet. She likes to put her toys on the counter or the table just to watch them fall off and then runs happily after anything and everything that catches her eye... including the baggie of pot she found buried deep under the snow in front of my building.

She's talented, this one. Definitely a lot more talented than the other one.

day 11721: i resolve not to make any stupid resolutions

2008 kinda blew. Who the heck am I kidding? 2008 really blew. It felt like I was phasing in and out of consciousness and all of a sudden in a blink of an eye, it was over. I hope it’s not always going to be like that, because if it is, I give up. I don’t want to wake up one morning only to find that suddenly I’m old and wrinkled with a thick woman mustache and a lot of saggy things where things shouldn’t be sagging.

There was a lot on my mind this past year while I tried to deal with the problems that plagued me. I burnt out again (seems to be happening more and more frequently) and my old anger management issues started coming out of the woodworks. My patience level whittled away down to below acceptable levels and responding to things in an adult manner became more and more difficult as the days passed.

If only there was one day a year when we could all resort to a kiddie-furniture-throwing temper tantrum, I’d be a much more calm and collected person.

Or maybe people should just stop pissing me off.

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.

day 11338: still waiting

I'm hiding out at home with the dog because I don't want to be where I should be and I don't know why.

day 11331: if i could only have one wish this holiday season

I wish I could like Christmas again.

day 11329: if you're not preggers, it's a really bad idea to eat as if you were

Dear makers of Peptol-Bismol,

It's bad enough that my stomach decided to choose the night of the Keith Urban concert to try to digest my intestines. But after a night of excruciating discomfort, I woke up this morning, looked in the mirror and found that my tongue had turned black during the night.

Thank goodness my inner geek kicked in before I succumbed to the hypochondriac part of me. Before I googled my symptoms, I had a serious moment where I thought I was dying of internal bleeding and contemplated actually going to the walk-in clinic. I hate going to the doctor almost as much as I hate going to the dentist.

Fortunately, it turns out that Peptol-Bismol has the unfortunate side effect of turning your tongue and your um... crap black, but the box only says they might turn dark. A mistake on your part. Dark, I can deal with... black, not so much.

Could you please change your warning labels?

Sincerely,

The still alive and kicking Schmassion

day 11327: fa-la-la-la-pffft

Wow. I'm going on record to say that it's amazingly difficult to have Canadian food products shipped to the US for the holidays. I thought I had a solution by ordering off Amazon.com, but because everything is made in Canada and the US has these wacky FDA laws, everything would be shipped out separately with individual shipping charges. Which means muchos dineros...

I'm stumped. Darn it Sista, your future-in-laws (and you) need to move to Canada!!

day 11324: caught on film

We did a full blown CSI forensic work-up of the crime scene. The bite marks match. The dog is as guilty as they come.

day 11323: no more the merrier

For the longest time, I was the world's biggest proponant of the more the merrier. Every party, every outing, the more people that showed up the happier everyone was and the more fun there was to be had.

Somewhere along the line people's lives started becoming busier (my life started becoming a lot busier) and more people stopped meaning more fun. It became more work and greater costs and a lot less reciprocation.

So, while I love a lot of people and know a whole lot more, somedays I wonder if it's worth the effort. Today, I'm thinking it's not.

day 11319: cross post because it's the day after my birthday and you have to humour me

I had a lot of fun making this cake and I'm pretty damn happy about the way it turned out. Next time, the body will get a little more shaping, but hey, I was hungover from monkeyco Christmas party and didn't even feel like baking.

Now taking orders.

day 11318: things I know I love

1. my fam
2. my friends
3. the dog
4. good food
5. good drink
6. chilling with 1. and 2. above
7. a cuddly day with 3. above
8. a good story
9. an adventure

Happy birthday to me.

day 11317: ringing in the holiday season with a big ass glass of cheer

Given the fiasco that was last year’s monkeyco holiday party, bringing a date to this year’s party was an absolute must. And because I am LIL MS CLUELESS and hence THE DATELESS WONDER, I figured I’d bring the CHAMPION OF BACKUP DATES, Mr. ICBBQ himself.

We had a fabulous time. We wined, we dined, and then we wined some more. We ate with the dinosaurs and danced with the mummies. The bartender thought I was the entertainment and refused to serve me (BAD MOVE, BUSTER).

Afterwards, we froze our toes off walking in snowdrifts, trying to hail a cab smack dab in the middle of entertainment district on a Saturday night… in the middle of a snowstorm.

Best. Time. Ever.

day 11313: monday, wednesday dread

It begins again. Wednesday night and I'm filled with dread. It's climbing night, or rather, it's supposed to be climbing night. But I haven't felt like going to the gym for the past six months/ year or so. I'm not quite sure why.

I'm not sure I enjoy it anymore. There's too much of a constant pressure to be better. My body doesn't take the strain well. I'm always injured. I can't climb as well or as hard as I used to.

But I think I dread it because it's not a sanctuary for me anymore. Hasn't been since we switched from the old Monday, Thursday schedule. Fcukers.

I'd much rather go home and veg on the couch while eating salty goodies, but then I'll get even fatter and I'll be single forever.

day 11312: it all comes down to the perks

One of the perks here at monkeyco is getting to try new stuff before it hits the market.

One of the non-perks here at monkeyco is that sometimes the new stuff tastes like cough syrup. BLECH!!

day 11311: anti-dentite part 2

I spent the better part of this morning with the left side of my face numb and a lot of latex fingers in my mouth.

Turns out, the hole in my tooth was a lot bigger than I thought and the whole side of my tooth had broken off. According to my new dentist, the cavity was pretty deep and pretty close to the nerve. She didn't say it outright, but suggested that the new cavity was right next an old filling that might have "shifted" to allow mouth dirt to filter in and gnaw away at my pearly whites. Gee thanks, old dentist who kept on telling me that my tooth's "defects" didn't need fixing.

Something else I found out today... despite my many painful prepubescent years spent in braces, my teeth have shifted and chances are that I might need to rebrace over the next couple years. I also grind my teeth a lot and have worn down a lot of the enamel on the teeth on the left side of my mouth, thus, I might need a nightbite retainer thingymajiggy to save me from further wear and tear. She's sending estimates to my insurance company.

I'd like to thank old dentist for telling me these things way back when so that I would have known to opt for the enhanced dental coverage with monkeyco, and not just accept basic coverage(note sarcasm). Oh, and it turns out, I'm not allergic to novocaine after all, so all those years of anesthetic-less drilling were for naught. Thanks for that.

PS. You're fired.

I'd also like to thank biatch receptionist for actually calling me back this afternoon with her surly attitude to inquire about whether my cavity was actually bothering me because if it wasn't bothering me, there was no way the old dentist was going to see me. Not any more, thank you very much.

Guess what, you're fired too.

Oh, and kiwi allergies are related to latex allergies and Brush-Ups are a good thing. I think I like my new dentist.

day 11309: anti-dentite

My dislike of my dentist runs deeper than I care to admit. For twenty years, he has been my family dentist and for the same length of time, Sista and I have had issues with his (and his staff's) condescending attitude and his inability to treat us with the same respect and common courtesy he uses with the parental units and the grandparental unit.

Today's encouter with his office staff had me shaking with rage. During lunch, a misbite onto a whole grain in my 12 grain wheat bread broke off a chunk of my upper left molar, leaving me with a sizable hole in my tooth. Turns out that the cavity I discovered last weekend decided that it couldn't wait for my new benefit plan to kick in Jan 1 and needed to be filled asap.

No problem. Call the dentist. Line was busy. I left a message.

Two hours later the tip of my tongue was raw from poking at the sharp edges of the hole, and I still had not heard from the dentist's office. I called back. They placed me on hold and hung up on me. I called back again.

biatch receptionist: Dr. Y's office.
schmassion: Yes, hello, this is schmassion. I left a message earlier and haven't heard back from your office. Part of my tooth broke off today and I want to see if Dr. Y has time to see me today.
biatch receptionist: No. Dr. Y is fully booked today and is behind. He will not be able to see you.
schmassion: That's fine then. Can you tell me when his first availability is? I have a hole in my tooth that I would like to have filled.
biatch receptionist: Let me check your file... it looks like you were due for a cleaning in May or July.
schmassion: I've been busy.
biatch receptionist: Well, the first space I have available for a cleaning is December 6.
schmassion: Excuse me? December 6th? Don't you have anything earlier?
biatch receptionist: I just told you that the first space I have available for a cleaning is December 6. You will have to make an appointment for December 6.
schmassion: I didn't ask to make an appointment for a cleaning. I asked to make an appointment to have my tooth filled. If need be, I can make a cleaning appointment for another day.
biatch receptionist: You have to wait until December.
schmassion: You don't have any emergency appointments?
biatch receptionist: Is this an emergency?
schmassion: A piece of my tooth broke off today. Yes. I would say that this is an emergency.
biatch receptionist: Then I will have to check with Dr. Y before I can make an appointment.

*5 seconds of silence*

schmassion: Hello? Are you asking Dr. Y?
biatch receptionist: He is very busy, and he is with a patient.
schmassion: That's fine. Please ask him and call me back.
biatch receptionist: He is very busy.
schmassion: I understand. Please ask him and call me back. When can I expect to hear back from you?
biatch receptionist: He is very busy. I will call you next week sometime.
schmassion: Next week sometime? Beginning of the week or end of the week?
biatch receptionist: I don't know.
schmassion: Are you for real?

She was for real. I was livid.

Thus, to Dr. Y and to the biatch receptionist, it's been a wild ride these twenty years, but I'm not willing to accept this treatment from anyone, you especially. I've made an appointment with another dentist for 9:00am Monday morning.

You're fired.

day 11308: even guys need to have their "pretty pretty princess" moments

Three guys in a theatre watching Enchanted together.

How bizarre.

day 11306: slightly preggers

schmassion: how's baby?
hinda: kicking ....I'm loving it! :)
schmassion: really?! that's so cool! how does it feel?
hinda: like gas
schmassion: the rumbly gas or the crap i gotta go gas?

day 11305: reason #897394856 why i love my friends

They're really, really great for the ego...

From: schmassion
To: IronchefBBQ
Subject: So...

As my Christmas party date, can you handle this??? :P

"sugarshock says: yes. he will be fine, but he should be projecting, *I'm with the hottest lady in the room*
sugarshock says: benefits both of you"


~

From: IronchefBBQ
To: schmassion
Subject: Re: So...

What is the context of this quote?

It won't be a problem at all projecting that I'm with the hottest girl since it will be true.

Thanks guys, you rock!

day 11304: eating cheaply, but eating well

About a year and a half ago, I did an experiment to see if I could eat on $20 a week or less (including coffees and snacks, but not dinner and definitely not drinks after work… egad). And while it was successful in terms of money, it failed in terms of healthfulness. My diet sucked that week. I lived on fast food dollar menus and months old crap I cleared out of my freezer. I survived, but it’s not something that I would care to repeat again.

Throughout my childhood, cheap eating was a recurring theme. There were years of simple dinners of chicken wings (before the advent of buffalo wings) and egg drop soup (made with canned crème of corn) accompanied by bowlfuls of rice. Grocery shopping trips to Chinatown would net scores of cheap finds of animal parts that major grocery stores would reject. I’m talking face, feet and innards. The budget was stretched, but we ate well. Everything was homemade, even the yogurt.

As we got older, all-you-can-eat buffets began to grow in popularity. It became a family tradition of sorts that every Christmas one adult would take 10 children (cousins too) to a buffet where for the low, low price of $6.95 per child under the age of 11 we could eat to our hearts content. We were always under the age of 11, if you get my drift.

And so we ate until we could eat no more. We had contests to see who could eat the most plates of food. There was a mussel eating contest in Boston once. A cousin, who probably had a promising future as a competitive eater, devoured an astounding 70-something mussels… on top of the other food that he ate. Another time at a hot pot restaurant, we were served 23 plates of beef before the restaurant decided they didn’t want to honour the AYCE.

On family trips, my parents would eschew the restaurants where other tour members would dine, and instead we’d walk alongside the river bank, country field, etc grasping a baguette and fresh roasted chicken in one hand and a refilled bottle of something in the other. This was years before bottled water became popular. Or maybe this was years before I could fathom that people would want to pay for water that came free out of a tap.

Later on, even on my own trips, we ate cheaply. Cousin Bo, Min and I survived for a week in San Diego on pepperettes and stolen airplane food, supplemented by free conference food and the occasional (very occasional) dinner out. Best meal (and worse meal) on the 2003 France trip was a round of brie, baguettes, roasted chicken and some bad andouille (yuck) while sitting on a stone wall in the middle of Bayeux.

These days, I go through phases. I’m constantly looking for something new to try and have spent a lot of money doing so over the past few years. For the most part, things have been good, but for a lot of it, things have been disappointing as well. Everything tastes the same these days. Half the time, I don’t even know what I’m paying for.

My next goal – to eat cheaply, but to eat well. So for the next little while, I’ll be rediscovering the city in hopes of reawakening my palate. Whether it be something I make myself, or not, something has got to give. Somewhere out there I’ll find something soul-shattering.

All you out there… if you’re out there… post up suggestions. Results to be posted on almost a foodie.

day 11303: qu'est-ce que je peux dire?

I've been trying to use my gum to make an imprint of my tooth to see if I have a cavity.

I hate going to the dentist.

day 11299: how the commitment phobe makes a decision

Sista has a good way for making tough life choices. Flip a coin. If you're happy about the outcome, you've made the right choice. If you're sad about it, you've made the wrong choice.

Two out of three times came up as tails. I was happy. Decision made. I'm staying at monkeyco for just a while longer.

day 11297: decisions... decisions... how the heck can i make decisions at a time like this

I sit here weighing the pros and cons of something that will hugely impact my life for the next few years.

My brain tells me that this may be the closest yet of me finding what I've been looking for, but my gut tells me that it's not. Perhaps something better will come along, but I hope I won't regret my decision - whatever the heck it might be.

day 11296: lest we forget

Je me souviens. I remember.

Thank you.

day 11295: ants in my pants, why i don’t love you like you love me and why i wonder why i’m not screwed up even more than i already am

I moved around a lot as a child. As the experimental older child, my parents would listen to other parents expound enthusiastically over the merits of certain school systems and switch me over on a whim. By the time I started high school, I had already switched schools 8 times. I went to two different high schools, and then attended a university with a co-op program where I packed up everything and moved every 4 months.

Needless to say, consistency wasn’t a big part of my childhood and I learned to adapt to change quickly. At school, I was smart, but not too smart. I was funny, but not too funny. I coasted because school was easy, but didn’t put in enough effort to become outstanding. I did what I could to be like everyone else and not be too different from my peers. Being the new kid on the block all the time meant being an easy target.

I grew up a stranger. I had many friends, but not many great friends. My best friends were family and Al from grade four who actually made a couple of the moves with me. It was easy for me to meet people, but not easy for me to make the emotional commitment necessary for a lasting friendship. After all, by this time next year, there was only a slim possibility of my being in the same school and chances were that the good byes that were said on the last day of the school year would be good-bye forever.

It’s easy to blame things on the past. I don’t like change, but I crave it. Every few months, I still feel the need to up and move. I absolutely hate commitment. I coast along, don’t like making long term plans, and my career and my relationships with people have suffered. It’s hard to look towards a future when you feel like you should always be on the move. I’ve spent thirty years living for the present.

day 11291: one step closer to being queen of the knobs

For the average Canadian citizen, the passport renewal process is not meant to be a hair pulling, caterwauling event. You fill in the forms, send them in or go to the government office in person, pay the fee, et voila! in a short 4-6 weeks, you get a nice little handy dandy package in the mail.

Done, and done… can’t be simpler than that…

Or can it…

No one said anything whatsoever about me being ordinary, thus, a simple process became increasingly difficult. First I filled in the wrong online form – the simplified renewal process form didn’t electronically submit my information – then, I filled in the correct form, but signed the grey box where no pen should touch, my pictures took a while to process, I forgot my birth certificate (multiple times), my guaranter didn’t know her passport number etc etc… So what started off as an easy peesy task ended up taking over a month of daily reminders by Posie and QWW before I was even remotely prepared to step into the passport office down the street.

And then there was today. I was ready, I had all my papers, documents, pictures etc etc. I felt confident and ready to make that next 5 year commitment to a horrendous black and white photograph of myself that would pop up on computer monitors around the world. I left the office just before noon in order to avoid the lunch crowd… got in line, stared hopelessly at the sea of people waiting in front of me and BOOM! realization hit. In my rush to get out, I had forgotten my old passport. So, I had to turn around, truck back to monkeyco and gather my papers together again.

At least this time, I was one step closer...

day 11286: i'm gonna miss her...

The "ORIGINAL CC" (who will henceforth be known as the Swiss Miss)is heading to Geneva for three years... this be the girl who introduced me to "To-Go" cups, pre-drinking, and Yucka. Life (and partying AND THE BLACKOUTS) will never be the same.

*sniff*

But on a positive note, I now have a place to stay in Switzerland... I just have to win the lottery for airfare...

day 11823: too cool for school

Over the past months, people from my past have been popping up in my inbox unexpectedly. "Reunion this, get together that, network now... haven't seen you 5, 10, 15 years, wouldn't it be great to get together and catch up?"

Um, no.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there's a reason you don't know anything about me anymore. And quite frankly, just because you found someone from Junior Kindergarten on Facebook does not mean that the rest of the Kindergarten graduating class is interested in knowing what you've been up to... even if you do have six kids from seven different dads cuz you can't figure out who fathered #4..

No offense, but if I was really interested in keeping in touch, I would have texted, called or emailed sometime in the past year or two. And if you haven't heard from me, well, I have a wierd thing where I'm emotionally distant and completely uninterested in people from my past (no matter how much you meant to me at that brief moment in time).

Blame pms, blame age, blame my new-found sobriety and hence bitterness (just joking, duh), but what's done is done. I've moved on and so should you. So please, while I think it's great that you're trying to keep a grasp onto our quickly fading youth, know this... I'M TOO COOL FOR YOU.

Just joking. Truth is, I don't really care.

ps. Facebook stalking and trying to find me through friends of friends of friends and then getting "common" friends to email me for my contact info... yo, that just ain't cool.

day 11281: it's like I have esp...

Getting ready to go to Medieval Times tonight, I dumped out all the contents of my wallet looking for the $10 off coupon clipped from the newspaper a couple of weeks ago and made a mental note to put the wallet back in my purse, lest I lose it amongst the week of newspapers I flipped through trying to find a replacement coupon.

Well, mental notes don't work. I forgot my wallet, discovered my lack of credit cards and ID while we were standing in line, and had to ask the birthday girl if it was okay if I charged the night to her.

Lucky for us, our ticket teller was a young impressionable boy, and wasn't one of those bitchy girls who play by the rules. A wink and a flirt later, we were cheering for our knight in shining armor.

day 11276: find your muse, find your voice

Now auditioning for a muse. Email me for details.

day 11274: dumbledore is gay?

Who knew!

day 11271: just another day in paradise

QWW: read this

*click*

QWW: Liberator Sex Ramp??? Do I want to know what this is?
Schmassion: "Alcohol helps a lot with women, it smoothes things over"
QWW: Alcohol helps with a lot more...
Schmassion: There's images of the liberator sex ramp... do I want to click on that?
QWW: I didn't dare after Spandexman. I've had my fill for one day
I'll have a look at home, safer

*click*
*AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*

Schmassion: Stupid me. I thought they'd just show the ramp... not people using it.
QWW: OMG
Schmassion: Traumatized.
QWW: Are you for real??????
Schmassion: So very traumatized.

day 11269: i interrupt this program with something a little more serious and a whole lot more scary

Late Saturday night, ICBBQ and I were driving through the Sketchnex on the way home from the country bar when we encountered a couple of teenage punk kids running in and out of traffic, weaving amongst the oncoming cars. They were shouting at each other and other pedestrians were yelling at them.

I drove slowly, knowing that sooner or later, they would stagger intoxicated into my path. One kid ran in front of my car. I braked hard to avoid the one running after him and thumped a long angry blast of my horn.

As our car crept by the kid I almost hit, I looked at him, and saw out of the corner of my eye that he was holding a knife... I did a double take. Sure enough, the guy was holding a knife and running after someone. Scary.

ICBBQ called 911, told them what we saw, and I drove away.

day 11267: who’s reality is it anyway?

Occasionally I’ll go a phase of watching a lot of one show. At the moment, it’s Gene Simmon’s Family Jewels. It’s hilarious and quirky, and damned if I haven’t learned a lot from watching this family’s version of reality:

Take the risk. Commitment isn’t everything. Capital is everything. Laughter and humour is more important than capital, but capital still is everything.

day 11266:: who would’a thunk

Out of the blue one day, I get a message to check out someone’s flickr photostream. I click on and HOLY SMOKES! Serious Boy married in Vegas by ELVIS(!!) to the girl he met off craigslist!

Wow. If that don’t beat all. Congrats!

day 11264: it's not me, it's you

schmassion: Dudie pisses me off. Maybe I have piss-me-off disorder

QWW: If there isn't one yet, you can invent it

schmassion: Yeah, I seem to attract the people who piss me off... must be my pheromones.

QWW: Lol, they are drawn to your charms... like dudie... and the twit... and PC

schmassion: Must be my cute smile and the clueless twinkle in my eyes.

day 11258: feet stomping fun times with food poisoning

bug, bug, bug, bug ... right-two, left-two, right, left, right, left ... skip forward on right, skip forward on left, sway, sway ... skip backward on right, skip backward on left, sway, sway ... step and rock to right, step and rock back, step forward on right and half turn to left, stomp right, stomp left ... vine to the right, hop back-front-back-front ... vine to the left, hop back-front-back-front ... tap right foot twice, tap left foot twice, stomp right, stomp left, hip thrust x2 ...

Maybe I'm slightly delirious... maybe I'm not... ;)

day 11255: should've known

Everything was going so damned peachy until the maternal one said "You've gained weight. It shows."

Whooo hooo! Here comes the Tyrolean Death Spiral back into depression.

Thanks Ma. You rock.

day 11252: there is no parity in travelling

Can someone explain why it costs $590Cdn to fly from Toronto to Vancouver (during the first week of December), but it only costs $409Cdn to fly from Buffalo to Vancouver during the same time period?

TELL ME... inquiring minds want to know.

day 11251: on craigslist furniture shopping

QWW: Oh. My. God. People are fcuking mental. Look at this shit!

Craigslist furniture shopping = hours of endless fun.

day 11250: never trust a guy named chad

Man... I gotta stop counting my puppies before my spayed dog gets laid.

day ?????: the best thing about vacation is that you don´t have to know what day it is...

sun
surf
cheap beers
boys
sand
water
lizano sauce

...are you jealous yet?

day 11238: shark bait! hoo! ha! ha!

Hi, you've reached Schmassion's voicemail. I'm either at the beach or trying out this whole surfing thing. If you're nosy and want to check out the camp's webcam, I be the one with the SHARKBAIT sign on her back...

Leave a message and I'll call you back.

day 11236: do you want a side of fries with that pity platter?

For the past few months, I’ve been going through some things. I found my world turned on its side; not knowing who to trust, not knowing who to believe in, and not having a lot of people to turn to.

Whether world imposed or self imposed, I was surrounded by a lot of negativity. I wasn’t being treated fairly, and in return there was no way in hell I was treating anyone fairly. I became easily irritated, withdrawn, jaded and embittered and started taking things and people for granted, just as I was being taken for granted. I hid away from the world and lost myself in “work” and in “running errands.”

Really I just wanted to be alone to sort things out and wanted no part of the world I believed had deceived me. I started doubting myself and became someone that I didn’t know and didn’t like.

But no more - enough is enough. I’ve spent enough time wallowing in the regret and insecurity of others and the world will not wait for me. I’ve fooled myself long enough and have to start living for me again. I’ve learned my lessons from my past and I’m ready to move on.

Once upon a time, I liked who I was. I had heart, strength and character. But most importantly, I had faith and trust in people.

I want ME back…only this time I’m going to have to do it a little smarter.

day 11227: i interrupt this program with a special message from your sponsors

Dear Interweb.

I thought you and me, we were friends. I thought I could be honest with you and tell you my deepest, darkest secrets. Obviously, I was wrong.

Perhaps one day I'll be honest with you again, but I think not, seeing as how I'm still experiencing the repercussions of the last time I was honest with you. So instead, back to your regular scheduled programming of "Schmassion Brand Self-Deprecating Humour".

Because if I can't laugh at myself, what else can I laugh at? Everything else has been taken away.

On the fence,

Schmassion.