Wednesday, April 25, 2007
pop quiz, hot shot
I was watching Speed today, and I realized that I deeply and un-ironically love it. I totally have a girl boner for Keanu Reeves. He is smokin' hot in that film. No lie. Toni is going to make fun of me over this, but I DON'T CARE. Plus, it was TENSE. I've seen it several times, but I was freaking out because I was sure that lady's legs were going to get taken off by that elevator. I'm pretty much going to have to buy it on dvd.
Went shopping, and found meself some work jeans. And if they shrink the way I hope they will, I'm only going to have to get one of the three pairs hemmed. My freakishly stumpy legs are a cross that I bear whiningly. I also bought a fabulous dress that I cannot wait to wear. I really have to start work.
The fact that Seventh Heaven is (was? did it finally get cancelled?) a successful show worries me more and more each day.
Went shopping, and found meself some work jeans. And if they shrink the way I hope they will, I'm only going to have to get one of the three pairs hemmed. My freakishly stumpy legs are a cross that I bear whiningly. I also bought a fabulous dress that I cannot wait to wear. I really have to start work.
The fact that Seventh Heaven is (was? did it finally get cancelled?) a successful show worries me more and more each day.
Monday, April 23, 2007
for awhile, with the vertigo cured, we were alive, we were pure
Spent the weekend in the 'Saugs, due to a pressing invitation to get roaringly drunk with my ex co-workers on Saturday night. I even managed to get rides both ways. On Friday, Em and I went to see a completely improvised musical at the Bad Dog Theatre in Greektown. It was fabulous. The level of trust that improv actors have in each other always impresses me. I tried watching "Thank God You're Here" a while ago, and it was terrible. The supporting actors were so clearly working from a script that was set up to fuck with the guest. That's not how it's supposed to work.
Em's got the graveyard shift at work this week, so she was trying to switch her hours around. We hung around my place and then drove to the 'Saugs at three in the morning. This wasn't the best plan for ME, because I'm trying to make my hours LESS vampiric, but I guess you gotta do stuff for your sis every now and then. At least she doesn't need a kidney (yet). And plus, I got a ride back here since she was on her way to work at ten thirty at night.
Once there, my plans to go straight to sleep were derailed by the fact that Mother had left a book on my bed. I'd very nearly stolen it from her over Easter, but I relented because she wasn't finished yet. It was Bill Bryson's Neither Here Nor There, an account of his travels through Europe. I have trouble putting books down once I get into them. Anyway, I ended up staying up an extra hour or so. I finished it today, and my desperate desire to go back to Europe has increased tenfold.
In continuing reading news, I've now plunged headlong into Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States (Bryson again). It's pretty fascinating so far, but I think I'd enjoy it more if I knew more about American history. I'm also technically reading The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, but I don't like his writing style, so I'm not really into it. His tone comes across as patronizing. Bryson, on the other hand, sounds like the best university professors do. He digresses, and gives you random and entertaining bits of trivia that actually make things memorable.
On Saturday I finally picked up the last of my paycheques from TJ's. It was nice to walk in there, and later at the party, because everyone yells "SUZE!" and gets super excited. I got intensely drunk (it was a kegger), and am actually still hurting from it right now. Stupid hangovers. Still, I managed to not make an ass out of myself (I think... events are somewhat hazy), although I did have the same conversation with Martin approximately three times.
In other news, on Friday an exterminator came by the building to check for mice or cockroaches. I haven't seen any, but now I'm totally on edge about it.
Em's got the graveyard shift at work this week, so she was trying to switch her hours around. We hung around my place and then drove to the 'Saugs at three in the morning. This wasn't the best plan for ME, because I'm trying to make my hours LESS vampiric, but I guess you gotta do stuff for your sis every now and then. At least she doesn't need a kidney (yet). And plus, I got a ride back here since she was on her way to work at ten thirty at night.
Once there, my plans to go straight to sleep were derailed by the fact that Mother had left a book on my bed. I'd very nearly stolen it from her over Easter, but I relented because she wasn't finished yet. It was Bill Bryson's Neither Here Nor There, an account of his travels through Europe. I have trouble putting books down once I get into them. Anyway, I ended up staying up an extra hour or so. I finished it today, and my desperate desire to go back to Europe has increased tenfold.
In continuing reading news, I've now plunged headlong into Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States (Bryson again). It's pretty fascinating so far, but I think I'd enjoy it more if I knew more about American history. I'm also technically reading The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, but I don't like his writing style, so I'm not really into it. His tone comes across as patronizing. Bryson, on the other hand, sounds like the best university professors do. He digresses, and gives you random and entertaining bits of trivia that actually make things memorable.
On Saturday I finally picked up the last of my paycheques from TJ's. It was nice to walk in there, and later at the party, because everyone yells "SUZE!" and gets super excited. I got intensely drunk (it was a kegger), and am actually still hurting from it right now. Stupid hangovers. Still, I managed to not make an ass out of myself (I think... events are somewhat hazy), although I did have the same conversation with Martin approximately three times.
In other news, on Friday an exterminator came by the building to check for mice or cockroaches. I haven't seen any, but now I'm totally on edge about it.
Friday, April 20, 2007
call me up, take me down with you when you go... I could be a regular belle
Lately, I've been spending an inordinate amount of time reading up on song meanings at this one website. Most of the posts are by illiterate idiots nattering on about how much they love or hate various artists and songs, but some of them are actually researched and intelligent. And it saves me from having to look up info on the songwriter's love life/regional slang/political leanings. There's little to no way of knowing if what's on there is what the songwriter actually meant, but it's interesting to find out what other people are getting out of the lyrics.
I love looking up lyrics; I tend to do it for most songs that I fall for. I don't often get into the life stories of artists. It's kind of fun to find out that such and such song was written after so and so's horrendous break-up with whatshisface, but I treat it like it's movie trivia (which I'm also a big fan of. I read the trivia page of every movie I look up on the Internet Movie Database). Neat to know, but not a deal breaker when it comes to enjoying it.
Perhaps it was my encyclopedic knowledge of Star Wars that ruined me for other obsessions. The New Jedi Order books sucked harder than the prequels, and those two in combination killed my blissfully nerdy childhood. Here's a good one for you: when the Phantom Menace was coming out, my local Chapter's had a trivia contest for a hardcover copy of the novelization. Three contestants showed up: two weedy ten year-old Asian boys and me, sixteen and broad-shouldered from being the butterflier on my high school swim team. I KICKED THEIR ASSES! Is it sad that I'm still kinda proud of that? I think they gave all three of us copies of the book, but we all know who the winner was.
But the new additions to the series just killed it all. The authors were pretty much fighting each other (I come squarely down on the side of Timothy Zahn, if you're wondering) and refusing to accept other work as part of the canon. It was already going downhill before Han and Leia's kids started having ridiculous adventures, but that was the final straw. And I, proud owner of various guides to the Star Wars universe, was left bitter and disillusioned.
Anyway, the point of all this rambling WAS that song meanings = fun, but I think could have lived without someone explaining that Chelsea Dagger is a tranny hooker (The Fratellis... you already love them, you just don't know it yet. Go download Flathead and tell me I'm wrong). Man, I shouldn't write things when I know I can't possibly be coherent. I still love the song, I just think I liked my version better. Not that it made much sense, when I think about it. Tranny hookers it is.
I love looking up lyrics; I tend to do it for most songs that I fall for. I don't often get into the life stories of artists. It's kind of fun to find out that such and such song was written after so and so's horrendous break-up with whatshisface, but I treat it like it's movie trivia (which I'm also a big fan of. I read the trivia page of every movie I look up on the Internet Movie Database). Neat to know, but not a deal breaker when it comes to enjoying it.
Perhaps it was my encyclopedic knowledge of Star Wars that ruined me for other obsessions. The New Jedi Order books sucked harder than the prequels, and those two in combination killed my blissfully nerdy childhood. Here's a good one for you: when the Phantom Menace was coming out, my local Chapter's had a trivia contest for a hardcover copy of the novelization. Three contestants showed up: two weedy ten year-old Asian boys and me, sixteen and broad-shouldered from being the butterflier on my high school swim team. I KICKED THEIR ASSES! Is it sad that I'm still kinda proud of that? I think they gave all three of us copies of the book, but we all know who the winner was.
But the new additions to the series just killed it all. The authors were pretty much fighting each other (I come squarely down on the side of Timothy Zahn, if you're wondering) and refusing to accept other work as part of the canon. It was already going downhill before Han and Leia's kids started having ridiculous adventures, but that was the final straw. And I, proud owner of various guides to the Star Wars universe, was left bitter and disillusioned.
Anyway, the point of all this rambling WAS that song meanings = fun, but I think could have lived without someone explaining that Chelsea Dagger is a tranny hooker (The Fratellis... you already love them, you just don't know it yet. Go download Flathead and tell me I'm wrong). Man, I shouldn't write things when I know I can't possibly be coherent. I still love the song, I just think I liked my version better. Not that it made much sense, when I think about it. Tranny hookers it is.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
just hopin' you may be somewhere a' walkin' after midnight searching for me
Despite the fact that it a tres dangerous practice, I think "Walkin' After Midnight" by Madeleine Peyroux is my new favourite song. Thank you, The Hour, for getting me hooked on more tuneskis. In related news, my iTunes habit may become a problem.
So I finally did something I've been wanting to do for awhile: I went to see a movie all by my lonesome. And it was super by my lonesome, too; there were five of us in the theatre, total, and three of us were on our own. It was nice. I shamelessly spread my shit over other seats and didn't have to be mortified that I got popcorn down my shirt--which I invariably do, so why I'm still embarrassed about it when in company, I don't know. I saw Young Triffie, which was not as fabulous as I had hoped. I laughed, yes, but I expected more belly laughs out of Mary Walsh and company.
Still, since I usually do idiotic things in public, it's nice to have someone to laugh with. Also, someone to hold your popcorn while you de-jacket and arrange your things. I'm not overly social in that I need someone to go with me to do things; I'm okay with my own company and often just prefer to be alone. But I'm not quite at the confidence level that would enable me to walk into a bar and have a drink alone, unless I was waiting for someone. Possibly because of my people-hating ways--I wouldn't be comfortable if someone came up to just chat.
I have another two weeks to kill before my new job starts, and I'm not going to lie: I'm bored out of my mind.
So I finally did something I've been wanting to do for awhile: I went to see a movie all by my lonesome. And it was super by my lonesome, too; there were five of us in the theatre, total, and three of us were on our own. It was nice. I shamelessly spread my shit over other seats and didn't have to be mortified that I got popcorn down my shirt--which I invariably do, so why I'm still embarrassed about it when in company, I don't know. I saw Young Triffie, which was not as fabulous as I had hoped. I laughed, yes, but I expected more belly laughs out of Mary Walsh and company.
Still, since I usually do idiotic things in public, it's nice to have someone to laugh with. Also, someone to hold your popcorn while you de-jacket and arrange your things. I'm not overly social in that I need someone to go with me to do things; I'm okay with my own company and often just prefer to be alone. But I'm not quite at the confidence level that would enable me to walk into a bar and have a drink alone, unless I was waiting for someone. Possibly because of my people-hating ways--I wouldn't be comfortable if someone came up to just chat.
I have another two weeks to kill before my new job starts, and I'm not going to lie: I'm bored out of my mind.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
I walk the floor and watch the door, and in between I drink black coffee
Another sign that I'm watching too much TV is that I nearly boycotted several brands of toilet paper purely because I hate their commercials. Then I said, wait a second, Susan... you hate all toilet paper commercials. Just buy some damn TP.
Not that this is going to have any impact on their sales at all, but I'm also boycotting Viagra. Those commercials annoy the shit out of me.
While I'm doing a list of things I'm ineffectually boycotting, I'm never going back to the Second Cup near my place. I ordered a large Mocha Red Eye, then cooled my heels, rocking out to my iPod. It seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time. The guy mumbled something about whipped cream, so I leaned around the appliances that were blocking my view. There was some kind of chocolatey iced concoction taking shape on the counter. "Er... I asked for a Mocha Red Eye. You know, the hot one? A coffee with chocolate and espresso?" Then we had a polite-ish argument over whether or not eye meant iced. We condescended at each other for a few minutes; I pointed at my eye, he told me that when people ask for ice, that means he puts it on ice.... It's just too much to deal with when I need a hardcore caffeine fix. I eventually got my coffee, but I'm pretty sure that man thinks I'm an idiot, and will complain about me to his friends and family.
But I love those Mocha Red Eyes too much to never go back to Second Cups in general. Just that one. I think I'll glare at it every time I walk by for the next couple weeks, until I get over it. You know, just for kicks.
Not that this is going to have any impact on their sales at all, but I'm also boycotting Viagra. Those commercials annoy the shit out of me.
While I'm doing a list of things I'm ineffectually boycotting, I'm never going back to the Second Cup near my place. I ordered a large Mocha Red Eye, then cooled my heels, rocking out to my iPod. It seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time. The guy mumbled something about whipped cream, so I leaned around the appliances that were blocking my view. There was some kind of chocolatey iced concoction taking shape on the counter. "Er... I asked for a Mocha Red Eye. You know, the hot one? A coffee with chocolate and espresso?" Then we had a polite-ish argument over whether or not eye meant iced. We condescended at each other for a few minutes; I pointed at my eye, he told me that when people ask for ice, that means he puts it on ice.... It's just too much to deal with when I need a hardcore caffeine fix. I eventually got my coffee, but I'm pretty sure that man thinks I'm an idiot, and will complain about me to his friends and family.
But I love those Mocha Red Eyes too much to never go back to Second Cups in general. Just that one. I think I'll glare at it every time I walk by for the next couple weeks, until I get over it. You know, just for kicks.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
at least I'm not watching that stupid Freddie Prinze Jr movie that's on
All I'm saying is, I bought sleeping pills on the expectation that they'd knock me out. I even doubled the dosage, on the advice of my beloved Jowie, who I go to for advice on how to either pass out or freakishly stay awake (I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I'm so... SCARED!). And yet here I am, perfectly able to type random missives and send them off into the ether. Which is where I'd like to be. Is it possible that I'm subconsciously fighting off the effects, because I have a silly macho thing about besting the pills at their own game? I know I have to take ridiculously strong pain medication for my headaches, but that's due to having chronic headaches since childhood. Surely I can let the sleeping pills do their thing without a fuss.
breaking news
I have discovered a fabulous show! Groomed. They take some "unpolished" man and gentleman him up! Full of staged phone calls and conversations between "experts" illustrating important "plot" points and, most importantly, MAKEOVERS! Hurray! I love makeovers. Cue the makeover song from Clone High, please. Wow, this guy looks nothing like he did before! They reveal him at his wedding... if I were the bride, I would have been so confused, because jeeeesus, he looks so different.
There's something to be said for the social graces. If I could, I'd take a finishing school crash course. Maybe I'll look into that. I mean, if you've got a solid grasp of etiquette, you can't really be thrown for a loop in most situations. You can behave like a lady. People would say, admiringly, "She's a real lady." I think I read more Austen than is healthy.
I'd still reserve the right to cuss like a sailor, though.
There's something to be said for the social graces. If I could, I'd take a finishing school crash course. Maybe I'll look into that. I mean, if you've got a solid grasp of etiquette, you can't really be thrown for a loop in most situations. You can behave like a lady. People would say, admiringly, "She's a real lady." I think I read more Austen than is healthy.
I'd still reserve the right to cuss like a sailor, though.
Monday, April 09, 2007
two unrelated and unequally fascinating bits of news
My ceiling is leaking, and apparently the plumbers are sadists who can only show up at eight am. Wednesday is not going to be pretty.
My new favourite website is feministing.com. Check that shit out, for it is awesome.
My new favourite website is feministing.com. Check that shit out, for it is awesome.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
I'm so happy, oh so happy, then again, I'm always sad
I'm currently eating the breakfast food of champions (by which I, oddly enough for me, do not mean a pile of meat). It's a mess of vanilla almond Special K, All Bran, a handful of extra almonds, and strawberry yogurt. I only mention it because I finally got the proportions right, and instead of being glue-like in texture, it's a bowl of delicious. I'm still eating it really fast though, because eventually that yogurt is going to soak on through and make everything super soggy.
It's an exciting life I lead, alright. But the hobo lifestyle is about to come to an end. I accepted a job at a new restaurant opening up on Bloor. Training starts next week. I was getting incredibly depressed by my life when the call came, but now with the promise of a job, I can kick back and relax and enjoy my slacker dream. My long journey towards employment included such highlights as a Medieval Times job fair (they offered me the job on the spot, but I declined. I prefer to refer to myself as a beer wench ironically, rather than literally) and an incredibly long test taken at Jack Astor's. They just called, in fact, but I've decided to bet on the unknown. The manager sounded gratifyingly disappointed, however, and told me to call her if it turns out I hate the other place. It's nice to be considered awesome by someone who's never met you.
So far I love living in Toronto. If I get bored, I can just wander the streets with my iPod and people-watch. I've become addicted to sushi (I've had it the last two days in a row, and I'd go again right now if someone asked me. It's possible they put crack in it). I've been going out and seeing people, and people have been coming to see me. I just miss how full my life was at Guelph, I guess. Looking back, I can't imagine how I had the energy for everything.
It's an exciting life I lead, alright. But the hobo lifestyle is about to come to an end. I accepted a job at a new restaurant opening up on Bloor. Training starts next week. I was getting incredibly depressed by my life when the call came, but now with the promise of a job, I can kick back and relax and enjoy my slacker dream. My long journey towards employment included such highlights as a Medieval Times job fair (they offered me the job on the spot, but I declined. I prefer to refer to myself as a beer wench ironically, rather than literally) and an incredibly long test taken at Jack Astor's. They just called, in fact, but I've decided to bet on the unknown. The manager sounded gratifyingly disappointed, however, and told me to call her if it turns out I hate the other place. It's nice to be considered awesome by someone who's never met you.
So far I love living in Toronto. If I get bored, I can just wander the streets with my iPod and people-watch. I've become addicted to sushi (I've had it the last two days in a row, and I'd go again right now if someone asked me. It's possible they put crack in it). I've been going out and seeing people, and people have been coming to see me. I just miss how full my life was at Guelph, I guess. Looking back, I can't imagine how I had the energy for everything.
Monday, April 02, 2007
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