Tuesday, July 18, 2006

this one from Karyn . . .

Q: What childhood liberty do you miss the most?

A: I think the liberty I miss the most is not being worried. Does that count? Not worried about watching what I eat so I can lose 7lbs so I can fit into that fabulous dress for one of the weddings I have to go to this summer. Not worrying about whether or not I look fat in my bathing suit. Not worrying about whether or not the next paycheque is going to cover rent, car payment, car insurance, cell phone bill, phone home/internet bill, hydro, groceries, and so on. Not worrying about whose turn it is to cook dinner or do the dishes. Not worried about whether I will get good enough grades to move on to the next step in my educational fiasco. Not worrying about how old I am and when I should be starting to have babies, or whether or not my period has come on time when I am trying to PREVENT babies. Not worrying about how much I have in my savings account, checking account, RSP, line of credit, visa, mastercard, mutual fund.

And I miss having the months of July and August completely off of school and work, and just hanging out up at Gibsons being salty and sun tanned and lying on the beach until the tide touched my toes, and being shaked upon by Chelsea the stinkiest dog in the whole world, and having the biggest fires on the beach built by a real fireman.

I also really really miss rootbeer popsicles, and I haven't been able to find them anywhere for at least 10 years, so if anyone finds them please a) buy the entire case and I'll find a way to get them from you, and b) call me asap so I can find out who the distributor is and buy many many more cases.

And I miss not thinking that most men are total dirt bags.

Friday, July 14, 2006

continued . . .

From Xta: What one thing/person/activity would bring you the most non-temporary joy, if you could add it to your life right now?

A: A three fold question deserves a three fold answer. . .

Thing: A new mattress! My god how I hate our mattress. When Paul and I moved in together my Dad built us (me) a beautiful oak bed as a housewarming present. We had this shitty old mattress which belonged to Paul, and it was killing my back, so we decided it was time for a new one. The mattress was to be our first joint purchase as a couple. Sleep Country was having a sale, so we went there and perused their mattress selection. Truth be told, we probably spent less than 45 min in the store lying on beds, rolling around, bouncing up and down. We settled on this one in particular, and they happened to be selling the demo model for a significant discount. Thing with the demo model was it didn't come with the 60 night guarantee all of their other mattresses come with, so once we bought it, we were stuck with it. I voiced my concerns, but Paul PERSONALLY GUARANTEED that the mattress would be fine, and threw jabs at me like, "Why don't you take a risk for once in your life?" and, "Sorry I was ever born." and it turned into the most ridiculous fight ever, in the middle of sleep country, in front of the mattress salesman. So we bought the friggen thing, and low and behold, I hate it. It's too soft, I feel like I'm sinking, my intercostal muscles hurt when I get up in the morning. Paul loves it, and not having to listen to him bitch about not being able to sleep is almost worth it. A new mattress is number one on my list of things to buy when budget allows.

Person: Jenn P. She's been gone for too long, and I want her back. Having her back in town would really round out my circle of girlfriends, plus I'll have to start taking biology classes soon, so I could really use her as a tutor.

Activity: SLEEP! I can't get enough of it. Mostly due to the crazy early hours I work, and the fact that the rest of the world keeps a different schedule, and I'm always up WAAAAAAY past my bedtime. The first thing I think about every morning at 4:30 am when my alarm goes off is canceling my afternoon plans so I can come home and nap. I can't remember my last nap.

Sleeeeeeeep on a good mattress with a big fluffy duvet with Jenn P. I've heard she's a bed wetter.

Thursday, July 13, 2006


So far I've had two questions. The first one comes from Tara:

Q: If you could have one domestic chore also be an erotic act, which would you choose?

A: I've been thinking about this all day, and I'm gonna have to go with vacuuming. Why? Well, I think I hate vacuuming the most of all of the household chores I do. I have to move heavy stuff around, I frequently throw my back out in the process, and I have a terrible, horrible vacuum. I shouldn't complain, really, since my mother gave me this vacuum, and I have a place to vacuum, and the ability to stand up and move around and vacuum, but the vacuum freaking sucks. Or rather, it doesn't suck enough. It's old, and worn out, and the part on the handle that you squeeze when you want to activate the vacuum head is broken off so you have to stick your finger in this little space and push this teeny sharp little button and hold it down the entire time, but the stupid thing will still shut its self off at will, and then you have to take the head apart and reset it before you can carry on with the job. It doesn't pick up a lot of stuff, and trust me, there's a lot of stuff to be picked up on the light grey carpet of our apartment. Every time I use the bloody thing I think about how much I'd like a brand spanking new vacuum, and I curse how expensive the good ones are, and how bo-daget bad the cheap ones are. If there was a way that vacuuming my apartment could also be an erotic art, that'd be sweet. Maybe I could fashion some sort of dildo harness on top of it so I could ride it around and get my rocks off while I cleaned. I'm sure the warmness and vibrations of the vacuum cleaner would be quite a treat. Imagine how nice my carpets would be . . .

As a side note, I know it's a long ways a way before Christmas or my birthday roll around, but I was thinking since I have so much stuff, and no real space for a lot more new stuff, perhaps all potential gift givers could chip in towards the future purchase of a new vacuum/dildo riding apparatus, rather than giving me stuff I don't have space for.

Question number two comes from Rebecca:

Q: Why are you disgruntled by the Blog thing?

A: I am disgruntled by the blog thing for a number of reasons. First, I have become increasingly aware of the fact that I don't really know who is reading my blog, and thus I've been reserved in picking topics to write about. I have considered starting a secret blog I won't tell a single soul about where I would write such things, but what would be fun about that? I am further disgruntled because people who know me have read the blog and been concerned about my emotional heath, so have phoned me to offer advice on what they thought was wrong with me, and I have patiently listened to such advice going on and on, only to realize that the things these people think are upsetting me and the things that are actually upsetting me are two completely different things. This leads me to believe either my writing is not that good, or my friends just don't know me that well. Who is to blame for that? Me? My friends? The blog? I then think desperately for witty things to blog about, and they come flying at me from all angles, but when I sit down to blog they just don't seem that witty or interesting anymore. For example, I've thought a number of times of blogging about Beverly Hills 90210, which is being played on channel TVtropolis FROM THE BEGINNING. It's insane! It's so bad it's hilarious. Things strike me about it, like how when I watched the first few episodes I noticed how chubby Brenda and Kelly and Donna all looked, and then I realized that they weren't chubby at all, but fast forward 15 years and the stars of the OC (what I think is today's 90210) are so unhealthy and skinny that it makes the TV stars of yesteryear look like fatso's. And they dress like adults, not teenagers. Did I notice that when I was 14, or did I dress like that too? The dialogue is SO BAD it makes me want to pee my pants on purpose a little. Lines like, "Dad, I know you're not ready for me to be having a sexual relationship yet, and neither am I. But what if I'm ready before you are? What then?" or, "Dammit Dylan, she's a virgin!" Season 2 is just starting, enter Emily Valentine, the rough and tough motorcycle riding babe who all the boys are after. Dylan is rebounding from Brenda, and takes a fancy to Emily, but so does Brandon. Will this jeopardize their friendship? In future episodes Emily Valentine takes the gang to a rave. They have to go to some convenience store and ask to exchange an egg, and then they'll get directions to the mystery party, where Emily will dose Brandon on E. Lucky Brandon. But none of this seems relevant, and so my blogging ceased. I'll try to be a better blogger from now on. It means a lot to Rebecca.

Keep those questions coming, folks. More questions means more posting.

Okay, okay.

Yes, loyal blog readers, it has been a while. I still don't feel like there's much that I want to say, and I'm feeling a little disgruntled towards the world of blog for a variety of reasons. I do see your point though, the blog is badly in need of an update.

So I'm gonna hop on the bandwagon and play a game that Anne is doing on her blog, which started with some other bloggers, maybe it even started in the land before blog. Who knows. Here's how it goes: you get to ask me a question, any question, and I will answer it on this blog with as much honesty and detail as I can (or choose to) muster. Post questions in the comments section, and I'll get started.