Saturday, May 29, 2004
it's just a little
Weird to get lots of sleep. I wouldn't say it was good sleep, per se, but there was 13 hours of it. That's got to count for something. Especially since I did not do any of the 800 things I had to do today to get ready for the NewZealandfamily visitors tomorrow.I guess I'll be getting up early cause right now I am going to go back to the couch and actually watch 'Kill Bill'. Although, apparantly, it's not worth it.
Ray! Thanks! Will email when I am more upright.
Thank you and good night.
Friday, May 28, 2004
and for those of you who didn't get the 'I AM' reference
..which is most of the planet, because, really, why would you? It's a "MOLSON CANADIAN" beer commercial. I AM...Seriously though, we see all the risque overseas commericals by email or on the 'commercial awards' but apart from 'The Ultra' and #'s 10 - 15, these are stellar and very Canadian, and no one ever gets to see them. Go see, please. Read the blurb and then click on the link (ignoring the ones mentioned above) - note here the first two are for the CFL team that replaced the Roughriders (the Renegades) so you may just want to click on the "Client - Molson Breweries" - one. I beg you. Because, even though I'm also British, I AM CANADIAN (and we didn't knowingly send terrorists to the US) Really, don't you wanna know?
Oh, yeah, and 'Tuesday' he's bandying about a lacrosse stick, which I used to play, so if any of you are thinking about being smart-asses, I suggest you go look up 'box lacrosse' and learn a little a-boot the game before you do so.
for the canadians - this ad agency rocks. keep watching. the Quebec pot one made me cry.
note to self
Don't come home from work, leave a note for the guy moving in that you need the elevator key because, yes, yet again, it's fucked. Like it always is on a Friday. When it costs $600 for the useless elevator guy to come out on a weekend and RESET it cause some stellar example of intelligence thinks it's funny to push all the buttons at the same time or jump up and down in it or whatever else it is these morons do, and your condo corp is $25,000 in the hole....where was I?Oh, yeah. Don't come home, leave a note, remove all your .. ahem .. underthings and then get changed into your Denver Hayes jammy pants with half the ass ripped out because then at some point when you are messing with the elevator key you will realize that the new tenant standing beside you is staring through the hole.
I AM .. a shining example of a board member. Welcome to the building.
lyric at post:
..going to town with my best dress on
double clutching in my high heel shoes
check the mirror and I blow myself a kiss..
dirty bare feet in the VIP section
This is a golf company story. Related to #'s 6 and 62 and I'm going to be sort of vague (it was all on the up and up, seriously) but this friendship and some other things cost me - a lot, due to the bullshit misogynist golfer culture. Which I'm still bitter about - even all these years later. (oops, back away from the soapbox, back away...).One night, after a game against BC....
(side note here:) I'm talking about the CFL (Canadian Football League). (and I don't care what anyone says= less downs and a longer field makes for a better game, even if no one's watching). Anyways, "we" lost, of course, because at that time the Ottawa Roughriders ('my' team) had players playing both offence AND defense and had actually shown up at the airport at one point to fly to the next city for a game that night, only to find out that the payment bounced and no one would let them on the plane. They had to drive instead. Demoralized and exhausted, I'm not even sure they won A game that season. I remember their practices - about 30 degrees (100 F) in an outdoor stadium. J's hands used to swell so badly from the heat/exertion he couldn't bend his fingers fully until the next day.
....we went to the 'Shark Club' and in the course of the night, the team's highest paid player (after trying to get me to give him free golf clubs and being told - in a polite way - to eat shit, die, and then go buy his own) 'accidentally' spilled a pint of beer all over me. Since I was wearing heels and a dress (a rare occurance) one of the other players, who was a No Fear rep, gave me a t-shirt and spandex shorts. I spent the rest of the night barefoot and looking like I had just come from a sticky workout at the gym. I tell ya, it looked pretty high class when I walked out of the hotel in the morning with the players as they got on the bus.
About a month later, J had left the team (and I had been fired) and by the end of the next season the team itself was finished and the whole nasty experience had been part of what precipitated my migration from BC.
(history:) The Roughriders were among the first members of the official game in Canada... In 1907 the Argonauts, along with the Hamilton Tigers of the Ontario Rugby Football Union, joined the Ottawa Rough Riders and Montreal Winged Wheelers of the Quebec Rugby Football Union to form the Interprovincial Rugby Football Union – or the Big Four. It wasn’t until 1956 that the Cdn. Football Council was formed, which two years later withdrew from the Rugby Union to become the CFL.
Those clothes went into boxes when I moved and didn't actually make it back out here until two years ago when I finally cleaned out my storage. With the spring cleaning last week I 'found' them again. I don't even think the No Fear gear does this anymore (they're reps now are all BMXers, Skateboarders and skiers) but they had the best sayings on their t-shirts.
In honor of casual Friday, I'm wearing my found-again shirt. It's black. The saying, taking up the entire back of the shirt in big white letters:
I'm not afraid
I'm an animal
And I will eat you if I have to
No Fear.
Chaos in action. I am.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
I really must fix the gallery and get it back up and running. Someday.
abstinence pisses me off
A great big honking hovering *mwah* to everyone who suggested something. I picked the ones I liked the best (er, and I messed with a couple and then Pob inspired me, -you should get some ice on that forehead-) and they're UP there. Alright, I know it's freaking HUUUGE but it's staying there until this time next Thursday.I'm not voting. I was going to and then I tried to pick one. I tried different points of view - the one that flowed the best, the one that sounded best, the one that made me laugh the hardest, the one with the best meaning, uh -mine, the one I thought I wouldn't absolutely fucking LOATHE by 2005, let alone 2006. And I couldn't. So, I'm abstaining.
There's a first time for everything I suppose.
Keep in mind they will ALL have "2006" tagged onto them. So - VOTE - then do your best to ignore it. Thanks, you're a love.
Every single one of you.
If I have little blog crushes on all of you, does that make me a tramp?
lyric at post:
..You could be waiting for a day that won't come
And you can be so much more than you've become
And I have found my feet 257 weeks..
suck on this...a barbershop story
Kay, first I have to say to whoever the 1% of you who use Netscape 3 or whatever it is - oh god, I'm so sorry, this place looks like SHIT in it. I don't know about 4 or 5 but there's a 20% share there too. So, if this is you - let me know and I will try to fix it. (not meaning "If I don't like you, too fucking bad" BUT if it's surf-by's I'm not so motivated to fix it.)In wandering about the internet in search of Canadian songs for a cd compilation it occurred to me that I should look up my favorite song that the guys in my barbershop ('temperature conversion') used to sing for me (and that I almost was flung right into the band during last friday night by an overzealous east coaster).
I came across a veritable plethora of information about the damn thing but here's a couple of references I found most interesting (which may help with the understanding of the song itself)....
After the Americans won the War of Independance the Brits were pretty peeved, so they issued licenses to Canadian- and Caribbean-based ships to work as privateers — basically, royally sanctioned pirates.
The line “We'd fire no guns-shed no tears” refers to the fact that most victims of privateers gave up their loot without a fight. (Privateers took the loot by wouldn’t sink the ship or kill the crew unless there was a fight — unlike pirates, who would do that whether you fought or not). Occasionally, however, the ship being attacked would fight back, and that’s where this sad story comes from.
Circumstances of the song-writing: There is not much on this. The sparse biography of Stan Rogers by Chris Gudgeon notes that Rogers wanted to write in the revival style of Steeleye Span. The book also suggests spontaneous and drunken genius in the composition of the song. The liner notes to Ian Robb's "From Different Angels" support the drunken inspiration version of the writing of this song. "Suck on this you goddamn limey bastards" is attributed as his introduction of the song on its first performance.
Barrett's Privateers
By Stan Rogers
Oh the year was seventeen seventy eight
I wish I were in Sherbrooke now!
A letter of marque came from the King
To the scummiest vessel I've ever seen
chorus:
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.
Oh Elcid Barrett cried the town,
I wish I were in Sherbrooke now!
For twenty brave men, all fishermen, who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew,
chorus:
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.
The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight.
She'd a list to port and her sails in rags,
And a cook in the scuppers with staggers and jags.
chorus...
On the King's birthday we put to sea.
We were ninety-one days to Montego bay,
Pumping like madmen all the way.
chorus...
On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again.
When a bloody great Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight
chorus...
The Yankee lay low down with gold.
She was broad and fat and loose in stays,
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days
chorus...
Then at length we stood two cables away.
Our cracked four-pounders made an awful din,
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in.
chorus...
The Antelope shook and pitched on her side.
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs,
And the maintruck carried off both me legs.
chorus...
So here I lay in my twenty-third year.
It's been six years since we sailed away,
And I just made Halifax yesterday.
chorus...
Copyright Fogarty's Cove Music, Inc.
If you're going to look for it (which I think you bloody well should) - I'd suggest the version by the Irish Descendants (it's always sung a cappella so don't be looking for a 'musical' version). Then imagine six or seven drunken guys surrounded by poker chips, empty beer bottles, money and a cloud of smoke in a barbershop singing it to one absolutely awestruck girl. Twice, if I could convince them to.
With all the time I've had in the last 24 hours I also found the picture of them I was looking for from 2001. Although I really don't like pictures of myself - especially with my own haircolor and my squintly little smiley eyes, (and, I just realized - 20 more lbs. gahh) here ya go. (left to right) Steve the barber, Phil the dimple, erm....Kevin?, and 'My Dear' Hanrahan. Three of my favorite people, anyways.
the name game
I almost let the whole 'strike' thing go on a little longer - I don't know about you guys, but I'm having WAY too much fun (plus I learned new things and brushed up on my css during the downtime). But, in all fairness, I do have the minimum five now (and more) so I'll keep my promise.I was trying to come up with something with b'gurk! in it cause we had chickens when I was a kid and even thinking that word makes me giggle, let alone actually saying it which makes me *snort* in a most unladylike way.
So, I'll leave it until tonight sometime to give a couple more people I've been WAITING for some more time and then I guess we have to put it to a poll. Which I will need to figure out how to place at the top so I can continue posting.
So, hey, I love you MAN! And I'm going for a cigarette, then I'll come back and 'break the silence'.
lyric at post:
..round and round my head she goes,
in the good dreams though, she wears no clothes..
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
interactive post / a plea for assistance from those most clever
the dilemma. the issue. the mental block.
Here's the deal...there needs to be a very very clever name for my odyssey / crusade / travels / wandering / journeying in 2006.I was thinking I'd put up a list over on the side somewhere and add destinations as I settle on them. BUT, for the life of me I could come up with nothing clever to call the whole undertaking at 1 am, 2 am NOR 3 am this morning. Believe it or not.
Like back in Nov '02 when we went on a road trip and chronicled it by taking pictures of the stuffed monkey, Spank (think about that for a sec, my gifted ones). Or when D travelled across the Western Canada, stopping and taking pictures of himself trying to have sex with all the large animal statues on the highway (Crow's Nest Pass, Moose Jaw, a dinosaour in Drumheller, etc. - trust me it's true).
Now, I don't need a THEME per se, but you get the idea right?
Proposals / submissions / suggestions / recommendations being accepted right....now. I'm not posting anymore until I get at least five clever ones. I MEAN IT. No posting.
(I know, I know, it's a pathetic threat but what else can you do in a blog? Help me, or I'll...I'll... what?)
Since my clever bone is defective I need you guys to help me. I beg of you. Cause wittiness runs in your blood. I know this. I feel it. I believe in you.
I'll be out at a support group for blog-addicts in the meantime. Or in the library looking up street addresses in relation to lurking foliage possibilities in Scotland.
Actually, I'll be hurriedly throwing together a CD label but that just sounds so....ordinary.
edit: There will be gifting for the moniker. Dunno what. Something Canadian. Maple syrup? Igloo instructions? Government sanctioned/sold pot? What if you're a Canadian, you say? Well, then I'd have to morph into BritishJen and send a packet of crisps or something. it's not POSTING - it's EDITING
lyric at post:
..when it rains it pours and opens doors that flood the floors
we'd thought would always keep us safe and dry..
Monday, May 24, 2004
"stop your bawling, you weak little speck of human trash"
Such a nice thing for a father to say to his son, don't 'cha think? I believe the worst decision I have made all month would be to watch The Hulk.Even by the time I decided to occupy myself doing other things, the mere sound in the background was inducing a twitch.
Dyed the hairs. Packed up stuff to ship that sold on Ebay (my 1987 Whitesnake tour shirt is actually being shipped to Yorkshire. Be afraid.) Ironed clothes for work (I actually like ironing, it's very soothing) and put together this (the top one)...
Trip planning! I still need the EU but that may have to go on another wall. Sassy did something once like 'a tour of my desk' so you guys get a tour of my 'stuff' corkboard. I'm sure it will be a fascinating glimpse into things I find interesting enough to put on the wall beside my computer. Right then, we've established time and time again that my digital camera sucks but just imagine with me. Starting top left corner of lower corkboard and working clockwise....
1. ad from a magazine for cologne. features man and dolphin.
2. a christmas present tag from my godmother. now deceased.
3. directly below that is something cut from a newspaper that reads:
4. directly below that, a four leaf clover I found when I was 6. newsflash - I don't think it's working.
5. (moving back up to the top) is a picture of Scott on his harley.
6. directly below that is another dolphin picture.
7. beside a picture of Brendan Shanahan. yup.
8. below that is three buttons. they say: "God is coming and boy is she pissed." "Earth is the insane asylum of the universe." and "Silence is the only virtue I have left." respectively.
9. (back up to the top, follow along now) a picture of a painting of a cottage. where I want to live. after the treehouse.
10. a horoscope kept for the line... "the jungle is in you and not just a place."
11. a button with rats on it. It says "Rats." I thought this was hilarious as a teenager.
12. a postcard with a dog on it that contains the following text..
13. a cartoon from a newspaper (BC?) which says.."Mom, what's a label?" "It's something they put on a person so you can hate them without having to get to know them first."
14. beside that is a St. Louis Brendan Shanahan hockey card. (it was a GIFT)
15. below that is a magazine ad for tequila with a reptile wearing sunglasses and a big 'bling' medallion, text is... "It wouldn't be the first reptile you met in a bar."
16. a button that says.. "Fuck off and die."
17. the yellow arm tag from the polar bear dip I was in. It was -25. The ice slab they cut out of the lake was four feet thick. I raised a thousand dollars.
18. a postcard of yup, dolpins, from Florida.
19. right above that is a picture of a tshirt owned by a friend in Whistler. Text is... "unadultered boogalooo". And it was.
20. a card of two polar bears laughing. okay their probably about to kill each other, but they LOOK like they're laughing.
21. a little stamp of an angel that was on something my mother sent.
22. a cartoon of a woman saying to a man... "It's incredible - we've only just met, yet I feel like I've known you all my life and I'm getting really sick of you."
23. and last but not least. a copy of the poem, The Room by Douglas Nepinak.
And now, dinner and off to watch Chicks with Sticks.
interesting snippets of a conversation, at least to me
The phone rings. It's like freaking midnight. I'm reading a book. I hate answering the phone at that time of night but fortunately it's the new cell and the new number and only about ohhhh, 4 people have it so I figure it's safe to answer. It's Tony:there."I can see you and I in thirty years, sitting on the porch, drinking Coronas and smoking Players' Light. And we'll look over at each other and say, "Why didn't we ever get married?"
He's having a little trouble with me leaving. Even though he's offered to pay for the ticket and I've been talking about it for years. Tony:there is very very blunt. His final words on the matter are: "I will not discuss this with you any longer. I will not and can not accept that you will leave and not come back. I absolutely refuse to lose my best friend."
I can't make him understand that 12 hours by car or 12 hours by plane mean exactly the same thing. Or that he will always be my best friend who's just a phone call away.
Shithead. But I love him. And it's awfully nice to have someone call to say they love you too. I don't have enough of that in my life.
And I have posted too many times today. And been through too many emotions. And so, tomorrow, I rest. So there.
Sunday, May 23, 2004
thoughts with only a tenuous connection to each other
Why on earth would it be easier to email my post in then it would be to log into blogger and post directly in the source? I do not understand.Call me silly.
I just want the damn password protection back.
And, quite obviously, since I still cry twice a week, won't be doing so for quite some time.
"Drown it." I said.
It seems quite clear to me that I still need to work on the cat compassion muscle I have not flexed in 19 years. Since the bratty next door neighbors kid came to school in 1985 to tell me that MaJen had given Junior to his father to shoot in the head.
(Junior being my cat that could not go to my father's house to live with me.) He annoyed her. He meowed a lot. Ergo, the solution to that would be to have the neighbor shoot him in the head. That's so bloody obvious I just don't know how I missed the rationality of it.
Apparantly she did not consult the internet like I did last week as Cabotcat seems to have the same problem. IGNORE THEM. It only takes about three weeks for them to get the hint.
Three long weeks. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed mad at her for that all these years. Cause I sort of get her point.
(Isn't that the alternate definition of "grown up"? Finally understanding what your parents were always bitching about. That 'click' where you go, "Ohhhhh, that's why she kept yelling - JUST WAIT TIL YOU HAVE KIDS OF YOUR OWN - all those years.")
Anyways, Cabotcat's not all that bad. He's only crying when I'm not sitting down so he can be on my lap. ...with his little opposable thumbs curled in anticipation of some future dastardly deed.
To his credit, he seems to love me lots for saving him from a life on the mean streets and he doesn't cry in the mornings. Just sits and stares at me. Which is fine, frankly, since my eyes are closed. And there is no Sir Halitosis as I think he's embarrassed of his broken/missing teeth and does not get real close and breathe on me with his mouth open.
He does have the same fascination that the Munchkin had with following me everywhere. Even to pee. I think that if he starts to root about in the garbage can, I may quietly go insane. ...babbling unintelligibly to the imagined reincarnation of my dog.
Okay, fine. One cute cat post. Just cause I'm sure I've deeply offended the cat lovers out there (if you haven't been around long enough to know the Munchkin story, then I would invite you to leave. And never come back. Cause you won't get any of this. No offense.)
He snorts. It sounds exactly like he's clearing phlegm out of his throat. It's very cute. Although it doesn't sound it. Trust me.
He also has dandruff. Which will be bad when people visit since it seems millions are allergic. I'm trying to work up the courage to give him a bath. Maybe I'll clip his nails first. After I rewrite my will.
lyric at post:
..i can't throw away my fears
up into the atmosphere ..
a nailbrush? the baseboards? what?
you see, whatever the crappy-at-their-jobs builder guys who renovated these places put on the baseboards is sticky. The glue? They couldn't be bother to finish their job? Everything sticks to it. I've cleaned them once before but when you've got a dog that sheds a pound of hair a day, there's not that much point.650 square feet. Two and a half hours. Cause it's sort of like that "moving out, must clean everything to get my deposit back" kind of cleaning. Except the place isn't devoid of furniture.
The munchkin had some serious addiction to TP so for twelve years I couldn't put any in the bathroom garbage can. That didn't stop her from checking every three hours just in case I'd forgotten.
The garbage can is between the toilet and the sink cabinet and down on my hands and knees to clean the toilet I notice a large mark on the toilet on that side.
It takes me a minute to puzzle out what it's from. Lacey brushing up against it when she checked the garbage can.
I had such an immediate reaction I had to sit back on the bathroom floor and cry. It felt like watching her die all over again.
I feel like I'm cleaning out the last little bits of my dog from my life.
And that's something I never wanted to have to do.
dinner by inattention
When entering the grocery store last week, I remember, as usual, to hold my cd player above the security posts (no, it's not stolen but it sets bloody everything off) and proceed to move as quickly as possible to grab everything on the list before the crowds send me round the bend.Reaching the meat section, I check only the prices before picking up four largish packages that can be divvied up to feed me for the next 14 days. I don't really have any solid preference for meat choices, other than preferring beef. With the chickens all having the flu and the cows all pissed off, there's less and less choice these days. Although for some strange reason, the mad mooers are more expensive lately. I don't watch the news really, but I assume that it means we're finally being allowed to ship beef across the border. I could be wrong.
Checkout. Jam as much as possible into the backpack to save my arms from going to sleep halfway home and of course, the cd player is now in the backpack, thereby setting off the whooping alarm on the way out. I think how funny it is that I set one of those things off at least twice a week and no one has EVER stopped me. I've been looking forward to a flying tackle by some overzealous shelf stocker for months. Alas, it seems that it is not to be.
Reaching home I unpack and get out the chopping board to slab up the meat for the freezer.
I have roughly 8 lbs of different cuts of pork.
Shoulder, butt, inside round - with bone, without bone.
I can honestly say that I am now all pigged out.
And trying to avoid scrubbing the baseboards with a nailbrush by blathering on here.
lyric at post:
..everything you are
falls from the sky like a star..
