in other news, I painted my toenails today

You know what I really hate in Jeopardy!? The part in which Alex prompts the contestants into telling a "humourous" story about themselves. I don't want to LIKE these people. I don't want to know anything about them. I want to judge them on their looks and how much they screw up on answers I know the questions to!

Plus, I'm utterly disheartened because one of the contestants is an actor/bartender who looks about my father's age. And he's playing against the returning champion who looks about MY age.

This unemployment thing means, basically, that I watch way too much TV. Whoa, whoa, whoa! Jeopardy! has totally sold out! Since when are entire categories featuring clips from new television shows? I kinda wanna see the Tudors, but not this way. Those bastards.

I certainly haven't been shopping for any new shoes

In many ways, living in an apartment building feels like I'm back in residence. Except for the fact that I'm making no effort to get to know anyone on my floor, and there's no drunken parties in the halls.

I spent today doing such thrilling things as laundry, grocery shopping, dishes, and searching for jobs online. I actually applied to two bartending positions that wanted a photo sent with the resume. Might as well trade on my looks while I got 'em, I guess. I'd have to go on a major shopping spree for slutty clothes if I get one of them.

I still haven't managed to buy good double-sided tape, so my posters and I are in a perpetual battle. The one over my bed has only attacked me whilst sleeping once. And by the way, NICK, I happen to already own Starry Night in poster form, and it is my favourite van Gogh painting. No Marley, though. I'm more about over-exposed art than I am smoking pot.

slightly pathetic

I WOULD be severely demoralized that Ho Lee Chow has my name and address on record now if I wasn't aware that everything is computerized and networked these days; even so, I attempted to order online to avoid speaking to a human. I was thwarted by their evil time system and had to call it in anyway. I'm not one of those sad single ladies who order the same stuff from the same place every week YET. Give me some time.

Before you start judging me, let me just say that I am fighting off a murderous cold, and spent most of today being feverish on my couch. I managed to make myself some soup for lunch, but then I started thinking about how delicious the Chinese food that Toni, Jo and I ordered on the weekend was... and here we are. I try not to ignore my cravings when I'm either sick or pmsing, and lucky for me, it's both right now. Yaaaay!

Tragically, my cable has chosen now to short right out. I was following the troubleshooting instructions in my manual (who knew that they could actually be useful?), but it turns out that the creepy cable guy has a grip like a vise, and tightened the cables to the point that mere mortals cannot unscrew them. And since I don't feel up to talking to tech support, especially because I'll be forced to say things like, "ORDINARILY, my grip is quite strong... goddammit, can you just send a guy? A cute one? Wait... I look like shit. Anyone will do," I've chosen to instead watch Star Wars and mope for tonight.

If any of you were placing bets, I cracked yesterday and started looking at the classifieds. I'm not good at being unemployed and fancy free. It occurs to me that the whole acting career thing might cause problems in that department.

In other news, I got my first funky Queen West hair cut yesterday. The jury's still out; she thinned it A LOT. But I wanted a change, so I can't really complain. I mean, I WILL, but I shouldn't. And why would you go to a place called Coupe Bizarre if you weren't willing to go crazy broadway style?

I'll make the most of it; I'm an extraordinary machine

Here I am, blogging from the big city! I had a blast of a weekend. I got a little verklempt at work for my last shift; they got me flowers, a plush turtle and a card, and then got me REAL drunk. So I spent my actual birthday hungover and packing up the last of my shit, then unpacking, and then showing off my swinging pad to some friends. And now my life is complete; I again have the internet. The cable guy was entertaining in a slightly creepy way; some guys think that the best way to put a girl at ease is talk about how pretty her smile is. Thanks, random Rogers' employee... can you please just shut up and hook up my internet?

Big plans for today include grocery shopping and watching Corner Gas. Yaaay!

isn't it a pity that you won't kiss these rotten lips or take-me-home eyes?

So, crippling fear of the future is setting in. It's also taking the form of a relapse into depression over past regrets. Not cool, dude. I really can't stand myself when I'm in my own personal soap opera.

But, for Toni, who made me feel better, I link to this: some pictures of an adorable Asian baby.

I have one more shift on Friday (sort of two... it's a split) at work, and then I'm officially unemployed. And the very next day is my 24th birthday and my first day at my new place. I should be excited, and I AM, but I guess right now is the low point of my roller coaster of emotions. Also, I just plain don't want to sort through all this leftover crap in my room.

Oh, I was going to write this long confessional about why, precisely, I'm floundering in a spiral of low self-esteem (because I KNOW why, and the whole thing is just making me more depressed), but I don't have the energy any more. And once my mood picks up again, I'll be all, ugh, why on earth did I write and/or post that? So I'll save us all the trouble and just not do it.

My next post should be from my fantabulous new apartment, and with any luck I'll soon be having ADVENTURES to post about. I'm totally that girl now--moving to the big city on her own to try and make it. There will be NO coyote uglying. I think. I refused to watch that movie, so it may be that I'll be unequipped to avoid it.

a place isn't a home without at least two dictionaries

I was just clearing out my bookshelf in preparation for the move tomorrow, and meditating somewhat on what being the daughter of two English teachers has done to me. I have a somewhat cavalier attitude towards books; not in that I'd mistreat them--Toni can attest to the strictness of the no-dog-earing rule--but in that I take them entirely for granted. The amount of books I've actually purchased for myself has absolutely nothing on the sheer number of random tomes I've gradually absorbed from my parents' collections. I have at least two (probably three) concise dictionaries of phrase and fable, seven copies of The Tempest, an entire shelf's worth of King Arthur legends, collections of myths from the world over, and a startling amount of poetry anthologies. All it took, while I was growing up, was for me to express a mild interest in something, and Dad would go down to the basement, open a couple boxes, and, hey, presto! I would have a mini library. Any time I took a literature course in university, I ended up with a stack of critical histories. I've never cracked the covers of most of them, but now I find myself loathe to leave them behind. What if I NEED An Introduction to Haiku one day? You can't know that I won't!

it's possible I should have spent more of today actually packing

Kidnapped my beloved Jowie today and went off to sign my lease. The super seems like something of a space cadet, but after she left, Jo and I spent a happy hour assembling the various shelving and lighting units I purchased today. Tomorrow is the real move-in; it should be quite the entertaining day. My father and my brother are helping, and they don't always get along. Joining us for the event will be two of my more eccentric male friends, who have never met. By the time Jo joins us for pizza and unpackings at my new place, emotions should be in high gear.

But if it doesn't kill me, tomorrow will be getting a nod in my memoirs.