Hi! I'm a clumsy idiot and these are my stories...

It's hard to believe we came from the same genes.

2011-11-29T23:05:00.000-08:00

The other day I had a conversation with my youngest brother who just got his blasting license.

Me: How was work? Did you blow anything up?

Ted: No. I was doing construction not the other job.

Me: Yeah, I know. Did you blow anything up?

Ted: I was working with sheet metal. I can't blow anything up.

Me: Yes you can, you have your blasting license now.

Ted: That's not how it works. I can't just blow up whatever I want up.

Me: Are you sure? Have you tried it? I mean, if you blew up a car you couldn't get in trouble. When the police arrive all you have to do is show them your blasting license and say "It's okay, I'm a professional".

Ted: Ummm? Yeah. No. That's not going to work at all.

Me: How do you know, if you haven't tried it?

Ted: If all you needed to blow stuff up was a blasting license then every terrorist would have one.

Me: Oh. I see your point. (I was lying. I didn't see it at all. I was planning on getting one as well so I could play with dynamite).

Ted: How do you manage to survive in this world with a delusional brain such as yours?

Actually that last sentence was made up. I'm pretty sure that's what he was thinking though. Siblings are always judgemental. What he really did was growl, say he was tired and hang up. I'm sure he'll come to see my point of view though. Therefore I win!
Ted: 0 Jen: 1

A new years resolution. Two months early, or ten months late.

2011-10-30T20:26:00.000-07:00

Today, while vacuuming the couch I found cracker crumbs and cat hair. It wasn't very exciting. Actually the cat hair was somewhat interesting, I had enough to make a life sized cat sculpture which I made and my cats promptly tried to eat. Why do they like eating hair so much? Anyhow, I digress. The point was that I didn't find any money in my couch.

I like finding money. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. It also helps fuel my nicotine addiction.

From now on I'm going to start wearing baggier pants with large pockets that are loaded with change. That way when I vacuum next week I'll find money instead of hairy crumbs. That sounded dirty. It wasn't meant to.

Mind the cliches

2011-10-22T18:28:00.000-07:00

Today I had a complete and utter meltdown - one of the many I've had in the past month. Perhaps I was naive or just plain stupid but I was under the assumption that once I stopped drinking all I had to deal with was the constant cravings, and the effects of withdrawal. Boy, was I wrong.

Being an alcoholic consists of drinking and figuring out how you're going to get your next drink. Paying bills, meeting deadlines, treating others with respect and integrity, going to work, cleaning, eating, seeing your friends and family, not drinking and driving, going to appointments, putting on makeup, doing your hair, wearing nice clothes, all of those go right out the window. So when you ignore all of those you end up with a huge mess to clean up.

Some days I see the light at the end of the tunnel (excuse the cliche but it seemed most appropriate) and then others, like today, are so overwhelming it's hard to ignore the urge to climb into bed and pull the covers over my head.

I had finally been paid, a very small portion of what is owed to me, but none the less it was enough to pay the over due bills and keep my head above water until the rest of the funds came in. I also had a new bank card as my old one was fraudulent. I went to the corner store to buy my mandatory pack of smokes. Don't judge, I can only deal with one addiction at a time. I inserted my debit card, entered my pin and learned that my bank account was closed. I rooted through my purse, came up with enough change to cover the cost and then went home. Once home, I took off all my clothes (temper tantrums are always more satisfying when done in the buff), closed all the windows - lest my neighbours think that someone was being murdered when I started screaming, and let forth my rage which included the throwing of couch cushions, angry tweets and texts, and of course screaming/hysterical sobbing.

Once finished, I realized my tantrum, although thoroughly satisfying was completely unnecessary. I've had a lot of days like this and I got through them with the help of my friends and family. Perhaps the freak outs and tears weren't needed? All I was doing was venting my frustration and anger in an unhealthy way. Most children grow out of this stage and learn to cope in a healthier, more mature way. Why was I regressing? Or had I never developed adult coping skills?

There are going to be a lot more days like this. I can't behave like a child any longer. I don't need to add any more stress to the pile I already have. Instead of bitching and moaning I'm going to take the hand I'm dealt and use it to my advantage. Enough of letting life control my emotions, I'm going to take charge and control my life. It's time to dust off the heels, pull out the red lipstick and not only live my life but enjoy it. I might as well, I could end up as a dung beetle in the next life. I've got to take advantage of this one. I've got more than most. I have a support system, a great job, a roof over my head (albeit a crappy one that leaks in my living room), a car that is mostly reliable and a closet full of really great clothes that I haven't worn in months.

Watch out world, I'm back with a vengeance.

2011-09-22T15:08:00.000-07:00

This song sums up exactly how I feel right now.

I'm back!

2011-09-21T17:48:00.001-07:00

This last week or so have been really difficult but I made it through. There were times where I didn't think that I had the strength, now I know that I do. Over the last couple of years I became a different person. One that I didn't really recognize or like much. I tried to be happy and kind and caring but instead I was angry, cruel, selfish.

Since I've made this life changing decision, I feel like I'm slowly starting to be myself again. I no longer get frustrated as easily, I'm happier, I'm even singing in the shower. I feel bad for my neighbours who may have heard my off key warbles. I feel like I can accomplish anything. I have hope back in my life.

The other day I was at the grocery store when someone cut in line in front of me. Normally I would confront them, get really angry and stew about it the rest of the day. This time, I let it go. Maybe they were in a hurry, maybe they didn't see me. It didn't really matter, I wasn't in a rush.

I know people don't change overnight and it's going to be gradual but I'm starting to see little changes in my attitude and life and that excites me. The best thing is that I don't have to make an effort to be kind, it's natural again. All of this hatred that I felt before, that I tried to hide from the world but invariably came out is gone. I feel peaceful and ready to make amends with the people I've hurt.

Okay, I know this sounds cheesy and like I've been reading from a self help book but it's honestly how I feel and I love it. I never want to go back to the mean person I was again.

Change of heart.

2011-09-17T21:26:00.000-07:00

After much deliberation, I have deleted these last two posts. Not because I'm ashamed but because this isn't what I intended my blog to be for. Ranting to the Internet, sure but right now I'm in a place where I'm really struggling and I want to do more ranting. It's better to do it anonymously so I don't annoy the people who do read this blog. Thank you to those who do read it. More posts about setting things on fire, losing my keys, or cutting off the tips of my fingers to come.

I did throw a cat toy today. It harmlessly bounced off my lamp and landed behind the couch. The cat closely following, did not. He knocked over the lamp, bounced off the table and hid under the couch. He's fine. Although he no longer chases his toy when I throw it for him.

2011-09-02T01:55:00.000-07:00

I have so much and so little to talk about. You ever have one of those days? I know my life isn't necessarily interesting, but according to others, it seems they get their fix of drama from here rather than soaps. I want to write, I just don't know what about. Maybe I should write about what's bothering me. That big, fat elephant in the room that won't go away. Or I could just write about something mundane; like how I bashed my hip into the door on the way to get the mail.

I have a job. It's something that I'm really good at. It pays the bills; keeps me from living with my parents. Sometimes, I even like it. The problem is most of the time, I hate my fucking job. Most don't know this though. I told a couple people tonight how I really felt and they were all shocked.

So anyways, I'm at a career crossroads. I don't know what to do. I have no university training, hate office work, retail, and will only drive a vehicle if I don't have to deal with other people. Doesn't leave a lot eh? I'm worried but not as worried as I could be. I've had over 31 jobs since I was 16. I'm now 27, almost 28. I've done this before. Also, I have my safety net. My parents are there for me. They have always said that I can move back while I figure things out. It's great, but my dad is about to retire. This is the time for him and my mumsy to travel the world, not house and feed their late 20 something year old daughter. This is absolutely the last option for me. I want to keep my Independence, and cats (they won't allow my three cats in their house, understandably). So in the meantime. I need to find a job that pays the bills, doesn't make me stressed and I can do until I figure out what my next step is.

I really envy those kids that knew exactly what they wanted to do when they were young. I've always wanted to be a pilot, but who has the money now a days? Other than that, I'm cursed. I'm interested in everything, and passionate about nothing. I guess it's not such a bad thing. I have options, if I fail at something, I'll always have a back up plan. But I'm bad with decisions. Do I want to be a doctor, a truck driver, a marine biologist, a writer (oh, wait, that's what I'm doing now...I'm talking about jobs that actually pay the bills.), a librarian, a beer connoiseur or open my own brewery, an owner of a vintage clothing store, a politician, an organic farmer, an astrophysicist, an owner of a used book store, an architect, a furniture designer, a motivational speaker, an editor, a piercer, a fashion designer, or exotic animal breeder.

These are just a few of the things that I've thought of over the years. Believe me when I say there are about a hundred other ideas I've had. No worries, though. I'll figure it out though. I always do. And like I said, I have my safety net, although I prefer not to use it.

I guess I ended up writing about the elephant instead of the bruise on my hip, which hurts like a mother fucking bitch by the way. That's the thing about writing that I love. You have an idea, or not, and once you start hitting the keys a new story emerges.

Karen Larson's new video...it's fucking awesometastic.

2011-09-01T21:59:00.000-07:00

Some friends of mine recently made a video at the neighbourhood bar (The Yard Cafe) that I frequent. Here it is. Enjoy.

Ps. You get to see a glimpse of my boyfriend at the 2:11 mark. He's very excited about this.

Reason #287: why I should never be a cook.

2011-08-31T20:32:00.000-07:00

I'm naturally clumsy, it's something I've lived with my entire life. I trip all the fucking time. Anytime I'm holding a knife, I cut myself. Hell, I've even managed to cut myself on paperclips, microwaves, shower curtains, and various other objects you would deem safe for a two year old.

I'm also dealing with post concussion syndrome. I get dizzy and fall down a lot. Sometimes, I feel like I'm stuck on a merry go round.

So when you combine these two things, you end up with a train wreck, that destroyed a whole village that was also housing a nuclear bomb and killer bees.

An hour ago, I got the brilliant idea to make soup. Not from a can (that would be too dangerous, I'd cut myself opening it, or end up dropping it on my foot an re-breaking the toe that's already been broken three times). I wanted to make potato leek soup from scratch.

In order to make this soup, I had to go to the store to get groceries.

I grabbed my keys and walked out of my apartment (after falling down the stairs). Initially, I was planning on walking to the store. It was only ten blocks. But as I passed Yuki (my car), I decided it would be safer to drive. Absurd thought? Yes, maybe, no? All of my friends make fun of me because I'm a really good driver but a horrible walker. So I decided to go with my stronger strength. I got into Yuki, and drove to the store.

NOTHING HAPPENED ON THE WAY THERE!

Once I got into the parking lot, it was a different story. There are two rules that no one ever follows.
#1. Pedestrians ALWAYS have the right of way. Even if they see you coming and blatantly step in front of your car, if you hit them, you're liable.
#2 Vehicles reversing ALWAYS have the right of way. So if you see a car with it's reverse lights on, you need to stop and let them out. It's the fucking law.

Anyhow, I was following a beige Mercedes with a crocheted back seat cover. He starts turning into one of the parking lot lanes, when he realizes that someone is backing up. He quickly panics and throws his car in reverse and backs into me...almost. I saw the whole thing happen before it actually happened (it's the skill of someone who drives for a living). I already had my car in reverse and was backing up, and checking my mirrors while doing so, before he hit me. He lets the guy out and then pulls into the lane. Unfortunately, there weren't any parking spots available. So we both get to the end of the lane when he stops suddenly. And then waits. "What the fuck, buddy? Are you checking your GPS, as to how to get to a different lane in the parking lot?" After about an hour, I honked at him. He gave me the finger, and started slowly turning the corner. Seeing as it was a one way lane, I had no choice but to follow him.

He passes a prime parking spot right in front of the entrance, that I quickly pull into. I guess it was too small for him. I spend about five minutes picking up the contents of my purse that had spilled onto the floor. By the time I get out of the car, I see he's still attempting to pull his mid-size sedan into a spot that has no cars parked on either side of him.

I swear to God, I don't understand how some people can get their licenses? Did you get it out of a bubble gum machine, or a cracker jack box, or is it given to you when you spend over $100,000 on a car?

After a brief incident of falling into a fruit stand and knocking apples everywhere, I made it back home.

Time for soup.

Did I mention that I'm terrified of moths? Well, it's pertinent to the story.

I grab my frying pan, throw some oil in it, turn the burner on and let it heat up. According to Gordon Ramsay, you can't put veggies in a cold pan. Thanks for the tip.

While it was heating, I sliced up my leeks, and started peeling my potatoes. Then my smoke alarm goes off. I quickly, turn on the fan and throw the pan in sink. Looking at the burner, I see a moth (like a ginormous one, that's bigger than a dinosaur) is half stuck to the burner. It's half burned but the other half is still fluttering. I don't like animals being tortured, even ones that I hate.

Normally, when there's a moth in the house, I get one of my three cats (yes, I am a crazy cat lady) to get rid of it. I couldn't do that, because it's a hot stove. I went into the living room and read for half an hour so the burner could cool off. Then I grabbed some paper towel...about half the roll, I don't want to feel that thing, I'll have a panic attack. I pulled it off the burner and flushed it down the toilet. Then I searched the apartment for other moths, made sure the screen door was shut securely, and cleaned the element.

Once it was reheated, I added the leeks, and a bit of onions and garlic. While that was sauteing, I resumed the peeling and slicing of potatoes. Last Christmas, my parents gave me a knife set. It was really nice of them, but sharp knives to their clumsy daughter who doesn't cook much...not the best idea in the world. You can see where I'm going with this eh? Yes, I cut myself. It wasn't deep but it was deep enough to spurt blood all over my kitchen.

Yay!!! Cleaning!! I actually enjoy cleaning. I didn't before, but I really enjoy doing it now. So I got to throw away the contaminated potatoes, put the rest away, and sterilize the counter tops and floor. Thank God, it didn't get into my leeks! Oh and I bought a new swifter, and it works great for bloody floors. They should hire me to write commercials for them.

That brings me to now. I've peeled and sliced all of my potatoes, and am waiting for them to boil. Once that happens, I'll drain most of the water, add the leeks and onions and puree them. A lot of people use cream but I don't like it. It makes the soup too thick and it's kind of unhealthy. So by keeping a bit of the potato water and pureeing it all together, I get the same effect with less calories.

I'm going to sign off now, so I can drain the taters and finish up the soup with a few herbs. Wish me luck. Hopefully, I don't spill the pot of boiling water on myself.

Maybe I am just a bitch.

2011-08-28T03:22:00.000-07:00

There are those girls, the ones that everyone knows and hates. The ones that create drama out of nothing, the ones that act as though they are dying when they have cramps, the ones that are so bitchy they invariably drag everyone within a five mile radius into their black hole of gloominess.

Well for me I was lucky, I didn't get my period until I was almost 17. Although I wished it would happen sooner, just so I could fit in. You were the last one picked for sports, yeah, well I was the last one to be picked to be a woman. Once I got it, I hated it, just like any girl does. Bad cramps run in my family (like cramps so badly that you feel like you're being stabbed), as well as irregular periods (OH MY FUCKING GOD, AM I PREGNANT?). You get used to both after a while. But at the age of 25 and having to take your 20th pregnancy test (even though you used condoms and you're on the pill, which does nothing to regulate your cycle), you start researching other options.

Even though I had to deal with all of that shit, I was lucky. I didn't go through the PMS symptoms as badly as other girls. While others were laying on the kitchen floor, crying over the fact that they were out of the last pop tart, I just called in sick to work because I was curled up in the fetal position, unable to move. I didn't generally cry or get all weird, or crazy. Lucky me?

I never felt lucky. I never knew when I'd get my period. It was like a surprise, a really bad one. Then I'd get the back pain and I knew I wouldn't be able to get out of bed for a couple of days. I always thought those girls with the emotional issues and no cramps had it easy. All you had to do was smile and be nice. No big deal. Little did I know.

I finally went to my doctor and switched birth control. This one was meant to control my periods. It worked wonders. I could predict when mine would show up, within the hours. Unfortunately, it had one negative side effect. My boobs grew. I went up three sizes within a year and a half. When I was flat, I wanted a bigger chest. Now that I have it, I hate it. I know, what's the big deal? Well, my chest is a large and the rest of me is a small. Try finding a dress that fits. Why do women get breast implants?

Seeing as I was still growing, I decided to go back to my doctor for a different option. I decided to go for the depo-provera shot. It doesn't make your chest grow and you only need to get the shot done once every three months. Usually, the shot causes your periods, PMS, mood swings, cramps to all stop, but only after the second shot.

So here I am, 6 weeks into my first shot. I had my period for 15 days, it stopped for three and has now resumed full force for the last three days. No big deal, that's why they made tampons. My cramps are all but non-existent, which is the biggest deal for me. Everyone complains about cramps, but do yours cause you to keel over and start crying because you think you've been stabbed? Try living your life like that. And the back pain is gone. I have a fucked up back. Everything hurts, especially my period. I haven't had a single ache. The one thing I have to complain about is my moods.

With all the shit I've had to put up with, I've very rarely been moody. Now, it feels like I'm a bitch all the time. I cry every second day. I yell at people I care about. I pick fights with my boyfriend. I'm temperamental, I take everything personally, I no longer want to see the people I care about because I'm afraid I'll get moody. The thing that's the worst about this feeling is that I can see myself doing it and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

It's like the logical part of my brain is frozen while the emotional takes over. I can see the psycho Jen take over but I can't do anything to stop her. Lately, I've been trying to walk away before it happens but sometimes it comes out before I can escape. I'll start acting weird, and alienating people. I'll see it happening but I'll be unable to stop it. I'll try to talk, to put a smile on my face but inside I feel like everyone is staring at me and I'm naked. I want to cry. All the fucking time. Maybe other girls have always felt this way but because they've had years with it, they've found a way to deal with it. I haven't. I don't know what to do.

Should I stop the shot? Go back to the pill that makes my boobs grow? Or go with nothing? What's worse cramps, or mood swings?

Having dealt with both, I'd prefer the cramps and the irregular periods and the growing boobs, at least with this option, you don't hurt your friends and boyfriend. According to my doctor, by my second shot, I should be normal with no mood swings, no periods, no cramps. But that next shot is over 6 weeks away. Can I make it that long? Better question, can my relationships make it? And will it all get better? Is it worth it? FUCK! What do I do? I just want to be normal again....with no cramps, and a regular (or no) period, and no more mood swings.

I'm naturally happy. I don't like drugs that fuck that up. I want to be me again, and to be in control.

Appearances can be deceiving.

2011-07-29T05:48:00.000-07:00

About 15 years ago, I was in the hospital, preparing for surgery. What was the surgery for? It doesn't matter. It holds no vital role in this story. My mumsy was with me. To calm my fears, hold my hands and probably change my bedpan. Because that's what mothers are for. I love her for this.

Seeing as it was the late 90's and I was quite high on whatever pain killers they had given me, I wasn't right in the head. I made up my mind that I needed to steal a pair of hospital scrubs. Mostly because they were comfortable, but also at that time I thought they were cool. Plus, I needed a souvenir other than my blown veins and bruises as a memento for my time in the hospital.

The hospital had already given me the pain killers and I was quite high, so this next part explains my part in this. My mumsy wasn't high and I think she was just amusing me, knowing that I'm like a dog and once I get a bone (idea), I don't let go.

Anyhow, I spotted the rack where they keep all of the hospital clothing; gowns, pants, house coats. I tell my mum (as best as I could in my overly medicated state) that I need her to steal a pair of hospital pants for me. She refuses. Stealing is bad, she doesn't want any part of it.

Somehow, I manage to convince her that I'm dying and this is my dying wish and no one will ever know. She finally consents...rather reluctantly.

"But how are we going to get these out of here?" my mum asks
"Why do you think I brought a large purse with me? I've been wanting to do this forever." I reply.
"Okay" my mum consents.

I wish I had some crazy ninja story about how she got them, but it was actually more boring than that. She walked over to the clothing cabinet while the nurses were out, and ran back to my bed with a huge grin on her face, yelling, "I got them!" I immediately shush her and make a vow that if I ever needed a partner in a secret agent type heist, my mum isn't on the top 1000 list.

Once the surgery is done and we get back to the car, I immediately pull out my mum's steal. You know those backless hospital gowns, well a nurse put one in the wrong place and that's what we stole. Every Christmas to this day, she wraps it up and gives it to me. Merry Fuckin' Christmas!

Suicide girls

2011-06-13T00:41:00.000-07:00

It's after midnight, and I have so much I have to do before 9am (including sleep) but I need to write a bit first. So many emotions are bubbling to the surface and I have to release them or else, I won't be ready for tomorrow. I'd rather be sleep deprived than be an emotional wreck.

For those of you who don't know of the site www.suicidegirls.com, it's an alternative beauty website. It started in 2001 and, it shows that just because you're not on the cover of vogue, doesn't mean that you're not gorgeous. They depict women that aren't necessarily beautiful by societies' standards. It's artistic and amazing. Yes, I will be naked on the internet but it's tasteful, it's not smut and it encourages girls that don't think they're hot to believe in themselves.

I was first introduced to the site back in 2004 when the guy I was dating commented on how, I would be such a great suicide girl. He then proceeded to show me the website. It took a few years before I even had the courage to join the website. Once I joined I found a community of people who were just like me. Any interest, that I had, I found people who enjoyed the same. I made countless friends on the site.

I've been thinking about submitting a photoset into member review (where the members vote on it and if enough of them like it, then you get voted in as a suicide girl.) for quite some time but I was still terrified. I was made fun of for the majority of my life, either for my big nose, small chest, too many tattoos, too many piercings, and a multitude of other reasons. So, I finally find a community of people whom accept me, but what if I'm rejected?

Back in 2009, I was engaged to a guy who treated me like shit. Once we broke it off, I was determined to be a suicide girl. I didn't know if I would make it, but at this point, I didn't care. I wanted to do this for me....for everyone else who thought they weren't good enough.

So, tomorrow, I do it. I have a photo shoot that's called happily never after. It's dedicated to everyone who's been left at the alter, been divorced, had their heart broken and everything in between. Right now, I don't care, if I make it as a suicide girl or not. I'm doing this for me. For closure. To let everyone who's made fun of me in the past know that I'm hot and I believe it, no matter what anyone says to me.

11am tomorrow will be the beginning of the new me.

Funny how, getting your ass waxed isn't nearly as painful as getting your labia done.

2011-05-27T01:54:00.000-07:00

Let me start out by saying, I HATE HAIR!!! Anything that grows beneath my neck, I get rid of immediately. Seeing as I have an upcoming photo shoot, I decided it would be best to get my body waxed. Don't worry, I'll talk about the shoot sometime in the near future.

By the time, I was ready for my girly bits to be waxed, I was either busy, or sleeping, or climbing mt. Everest. I didn't end up getting it done till today. 10 days is a really long time to go, especially when you have a phobia of body hair!

In my neighbourhood, there are quite a few places to get waxed. The first one that I went to was located a couple blocks from my flat. There was one woman working and she told me that she didn't have any openings until Sunday. Walk ins welcome...but you'll have to wait three days. I'll go back tomorrow and alter the sign for her, and I won't even charge her! That's why people call me generous....well, they don't, but I'm sure they will after this good deed.

The second place was a lot busier, which I took as a good sign. There were about five very conservative looking women getting their nails done. A woman in the very back asked me what I needed done. Looking around at all of these woman staring at me, I loudly proclaim that I'd like a full brazilian. "What was that?" the shop keeper asked. "I'd like a full brazilian." I almost yell. If the ladies weren't staring before, they sure as hell were now. "Okay, sit right there and I'll see if we can squeeze you in." she tells me.

A few minutes later she pops out of the back and yells "Do you want your ass done as well?". "Yes." I yell back. After about ten minutes, they tell me to go into the back room. I can feel everyone's eyes on me as I walk to the very back. It's almost as bad as running into someone you know while you're performing the walk of shame! I don't really understand why they were all staring. It's not like anyone lets it go au naturel anymore.

I get into the room and strip down. The woman who was waxing me steps out to get something, or to tell everyone how hairy my snatch is, leaving the door wide open. YAY! Everyone got to see me lying on the table with my pubes in their full glory! Good thing, I'm not really that modest!

Side note: why the hell do you see people in the movies and t.v. shows, get out of bed and wrap a sheet around them? It's not like the guy/girl you just slept with hasn't seen you naked already. I know, you can't show nudity in everything but there are shots you can do where the actor/ressess' back is facing the camera. It bugs me.

Anyhow, the woman starts her waxing and I start my flinching and painful gasps. She stops for a moment and looks closely between my legs pulling my labia apart. I assumed she just wanted to be sure she got all of the hair until she uttered this gem of a sentence "You've got the most beautiful labia, I've ever seen!" How do you even respond to that?

Beautiful eyes, spirit, breasts, legs etc...I've heard those before and they've never shocked me. So why am I feeling shocked by this proclamation? It's another body part. She's probably seen more labia than Hugh Hefner. "Thank you", I proudly reply.

She then tells me to flip over on my stomach so she can wax the backside. I also got to hold my ass cheeks apart while she was waxing. Once it was all over she started applying a cream to help with the irritation. It felt like someone else was wiping my ass for me. That, right there, was the most awkward, uncomfortable moment for me.

And it was all totally worth it!

Breaking dishes is a lot easier than washing them...aside from cleaning the blood off the kitchen floor.

2011-05-24T09:25:00.000-07:00

A few days back, I was doing the dishes when I dropped a plate on the floor. Number one: I'm a clumsy mother fucker. Number two: I have arthritis in my thumbs and consequentially can't grip things. So the plate shattered and I happened to have bare feet, as per usual. I picked my way carefully through the debris to get the broom when the inevitable happened. I stepped on a shard of glass. By no means, was it a large cut but I did manage to have a sliver of glass break off in my foot.

After close to 28 years of being accident prone, I've learned to ALWAYS have your first aid kit stocked and ready to go. First things first, I had to get ~~this glass out of my foot~~ tweet about it because I've become a twitter whore. Seeing as it was bleeding rather profusely, I grabbed my tweezers (pre-sterilized, for situations such as this) and attempted to pull the glass out.

With so many injuries over the past few years, my pain tolerance is better than most people's. My pain scale is about four points lower than the average. So when I say mine is a 7 out of 10, that's an 11 on anyone else's scale. When I dug into my foot with my tweezers, attempting to grasp the piece of glass (which was very slippery, because of all the blood) my pain was probably a 9.5 out of 10. And 10 is the worst. Good thing I was good at operation as a child! If I had spent more than two minutes in there, I would have passed out. I'm pretty sure, I could have popped out a kid with less pain, that is if labour only lasted two minutes.

Earlier this morning, I managed to have another accident. I know, shocker eh? I was pouring myself a glass of juice when I dropped the glass on the floor. Of course, it managed to break into a million pieces. I really need to start using paper plates and cups. The thing is, this time, I managed to avoid all of the small bits of glass. I stepped on the one big chunk and sliced the side of my foot open. I don't really understand how this happened. Only a 1/4 of the glass shattered into smithereens. How could I step on a glass that is 3/4 of the way intact? Sleep deprivation? Blindness? Idiocy? Regardless of the how, I managed to hurt myself so badly that I'm almost considering stitches....again. Fuck me!

Penguins.

2011-05-16T20:45:00.001-07:00

Last night I had a conversation with some friends regarding homophobia. As much as I have travelled, Vancouver is by far one of my favorite cities in the world. We have the mountains, the ocean, decent night life and for the most part chill, laid-back people. Second to San Francisco, we have one of the largest gay communities in all of North America. Also one of the most fantabulous gay pride parades EVER! Yes, I did just use fantabulous to describe a gay pride parade.

Many gay couples travel to Vancouver solely because we are such a liberal city. And yet even though most people are tolerant there are a few out there that deserve to be shot out of a cannon...without a helmet.

Last year I had an incident with a passenger on my bus. I was driving down Davie street when a couple got on the bus (both male). They were kind of cuddling and giving each other kisses. I found it quite cute, although not everyone thinks the same way that I do. A woman comes up to me and asks if I could kick the couple off of my bus for inappropriate behaviour. "Ma'am, there's nothing inappropriate about what they're doing. People are allowed to kiss on the bus. Sex? No, but kissing? Have at her." I state. "But they're two men! That's just wrong and immoral and I have a stick shoved so far up my ass, it's impossible for me to see anyone else's point of view." she replies. Okay, I may have slightly exaggerated that last bit but it's basically what I heard. In the end, I ended up telling her that if she had a problem with two men kissing then she could get off the bus and take another one.

Why do so many people in this world insist on being douche-canoes? Lighten up. Love is love.

And in response to the gay bullying....

This post has nothing to do with penguins. I just couldn't think of a title.

Yet another sleepless night

2011-05-16T09:49:00.000-07:00

Some things that I've learned from being up all night.

Not many people tweet at four am. More should start. I'm bored. Entertain me until I can get my monkey that does my dishes and juggles chainsaws.

Cats are definately nocturnal. And they really enjoy trying to trip you. Does it look like I want another concussion? Assholes!

I swear a lot more than normal.

Celery is a fucking weird word. Say it 100 times in a row. Weird.

Don't watch swing kids...unless you want to cry, and be reminded of the one horrible quote "a Faust is an ugly girl". It only sucks if your last name is Faust.

Mine is.

You can't call people because they're weird and trying to sleep and then they'll yell at you. Some friends!

It's impossible to write anything because your brain has shut off.

Listening to tool loudly will cause your neighbours to knock on your door and yell at you.

Why is everyone so fucking angry in the middle of the night?

Salad is delicious.

You don't know how to make a caesar. Leave it to the bartender.

Using power tools is a very bad idea.

You may think, that you're funny. You're really not. Stop trying.

Why am I writing this post?

I need to get some pink rubber boots.

Grammar. Do you know how to use it?

You should learn.

You're allergic to avocados. Stop eating them. Idiot!

Stepping on a drill bit hurts.

Put the power tools away.

If I can't get a monkey, I'd settle for a midget who vacuums and swallows swords.

I become very politically incorrect when I don't sleep.

Invader Zim is a lot funnier now than it was when you had a proper nights sleep.

You need to go back to that walk in clinic where you saw the chick who looked exactly like Kim Jong-il and take a picture of her.

I should probably go to bed.

That's not going to happen.

I dreamed a dream

2011-02-01T22:51:00.000-08:00

After a week of migraines, swollen lips (apparently I'm allergic to rice), and back injuries (what can I say, pasta is heavy!), I finally managed to fall asleep on the couch. My mind and body had been through hell this last week and I was relieved that I was able to get a bit of sleep.

Three hours later, I wake up in a cold sweat missing a sock. Utterly confused and disorientated, I attempt to shake myself awake. That's when it all came back to me. A dream...actually, to be more specific, a nightmare. Some one was trying to kill me. They had been tracking me by way of my phone which was also a gps locator. Being the smart woman, I am, I immediately take off a sock, put my phone in it and throw it off the balcony.

Oh shit!

Where's my phone?

I search frantically; tearing apart the couch, throwing cushions and cats in the fruitless search for my mobile. I look down at my feet, one with sock, one without and I think....NAH! That was a dream, I wouldn't, I couldn't, OH MY FUCKING GOD, I THREW MY PHONE OFF MY BALCONY!!!! I quickly run out the door and look over the edge. No phone, no sock, I'm fucked. That's when I see it, a very lumpy looking sock on the edge of the balcony. All I have to say is....

Thank God, I was never good at baseball!

Awesometastic!!!

2011-01-18T13:26:00.000-08:00

A brief glimpse into my thoughts

2010-11-27T02:13:00.000-08:00

So here I am. It's a little past two am and I'm bored. The boy is asleep, which of course is completely understandable seeing as he had to get up at the crack of dawn to work today. Actually, seeing as it is winter, he may have even woken up earlier than the crack of dawn. What time does the sun rise? Well, regardless, he was up at six am which is why he's asleep right now. As for me, I've been nursing a concussion for the last week or so. I've found that since I've been knocked in the head I've been sleeping a lot more and at strange hours. For instance I may sleep in two hour snatches with a half hour or hour of being awake between them, while during the day I may end up sleeping ten hours straight.

I do apologize for the rambling, I blame it on the bump on my head which I've affectionately named Jim. Actually it seems that whenever I hurt myself I will end up naming the injury Jim without remembering I've been using the same name for years. It's only when I look at pictures of me in the past I read my caption "Me and my ginormous bruise named Jim" do I remember. Just as well, I'm sure that people who know me will come to realize that I'm hurt in someway when I start to talk about Jim.

I've just come back from a smoke. You wouldn't know this because this isn't video which is why I told you. Actually, it's not why I told you. The reason I brought this up was because as I was closing the sliding glass door I started getting paranoid about being locked outside. Now this isn't an irrational fear as I have been locked outside before. A few years ago, I had just moved into a flat on the third floor. I had yet to learn about all of the quirks and inconveniences this particular suite had. Old buildings, old cars, old people, they all have quirks and it takes a bit of time to figure them out, get used to them and finally to love/hate them. Well anyhow, I had a couple of friends coming by to bring me my TV. A few minutes before they were due to arrive I stepped out onto the balcony to have a smoke. I closed the door behind me to avoid smoke getting into my place. Once I finished, I turned to go back in. That's when I realized the sliding glass door locks automatically when you close it.

I quickly did an inventory of what I had on me in the hopes I could Macguyver my way out of the situation. Jeans, t-shirt, bra, underwear, pack of smokes and a lighter. Not much use when one is locked on the balcony three stories up. Too bad I didn't think to bring my rope ladder out there with me, or at the very least my cell phone.

One of the quirks I had figured out was that the window above my bed doesn't lock and can be opened from the inside or outside. Now this window was a good two feet from the edge of the balcony. Oh my god, I can crawl in through the window. Seeing as I'm quite clumsy and very inflexible the idea I had was at the very least stupid! I told myself that this was a piece of cake and it was my only reasonable option. I decided that by pretending I lived on the ground floor and not looking down was the best idea. I reached out and grabbed the edge of the window with my left hand while I have my right braced against the wall for support. Precariously, I climbed onto the oh so very rickety railing and in one fell swoop (before I looked down or tripped over one of my overgrown limbs) I hauled myself through the window.

Since that time I've been terrified of being locked out. At my current apartment I won't shut the door just in case. Seeing as this wasn't my house I was smoking outside of, I took the risk (because I've seen other shut the door completely and open it back up with no trouble) and closed the door behind me. I must say though, it was one of the most frightening experiences I've had in a while. Weird? That's me, I'm scared of strange things. I couldn't even finish my smoke due to the fact that my mind was working overtime creating horrible scenarios for me.

What If I'm locked out here? It's freezing. There's snow on the ground, I'm in sandals and a bathrobe. I don't have a phone or even my car here. I'd have to go around to the front and ring the doorbell. Then the boy, the boy's roommates and the CRAZY fuckin' dogs would wake up. Everyone would be mad at me and I would be banished from the house wearing only my sandals because the boy would take his robe, that I borrowed, back. But before I left one of the CRAZY fuckin' dogs would bark ferociously at me while the other would lick my naked legs to death. Then I would have to walk home naked. Suddenly a police car would show up and I would be arrested for indecent exposure and thrown in jail. I'd be too ashamed to tell my parents what had happened so I'd end up rotting in jail. And to top it all off, I'm pretty sure that's when the world will come to an end. Tsunami's, volcanic eruptions, ice ages, and of course all of the dinosaurs that the Americans have kept hidden in area 51 would get loose. You can see why I was frightened. Well maybe you can't but I did my best to explain it to you. It's not my fault if you can't understand simple explanations.

Pandemonium in the safeway parking lot.

2010-11-26T22:23:00.000-08:00

A while back I was at Safeway. I pulled my car into the parking spot only to notice that the truck parked in front of me had it's lights on. I got out expecting the truck to be running but it wasn't. Well there have got to be people waiting inside, I thought. I pull the stalkerish move and peer inside. Nope. No one is there.

As soon as I enter the store I head up to the customer service desk to inform them that someone in the parking lot has left their lights on. I give a description of the truck and the license plate number to the clerk behind the desk. She nonchalantly writes down the information and goes back to reading the paper. As I'm shopping, I keep my ears open for an announcement about the truck. I hear announcements for management, for customer assistance but nothing about a vehicle with their lights on.

By the time I had left the store about 25 minutes has passed. Okay, maybe someone went out into the parking lot, saw the truck was gone and thus saw no need for an announcement. I walk out to my car and see the truck. Still empty. Still with it's lights on.

Why didn't they make an announcement? Now some poor guy is going to come back to his vehicle and find a dead battery. Are people today too lazy to help someone out or is it some sort of sadistic pleasure they get from causing other people problems?

As I was leaving the parking lot, I see an employee walking with a cart towards the cart return. I'm driving slowly along seeing as it is a parking lot and people are apt to do stupid things. And lo and behold cart boy decides to cross the parking lot not two feet in front of my moving vehicle without looking. Oh, no scratch that. He did look but he looked in the opposite direction that vehicles travel in. Lucky for him, I predicted that he or someone else would do something stupid and was driving slow enough that I could stop on a dime.

Where is Darwinism when you need it?

A series of unfortunate events....

2010-11-18T18:49:00.000-08:00

I was on my way to work one day when I placed my overpriced coffee on a newspaper box in order to light my cigarette. A passerby noticed my cup of coffee and thinking it was garbage, and that he was doing a good deed, picked it up and tossed it in the trash. I hadn't even had one sip of it yet!

While at work, I was just heading back to my bus from a washroom break when a man about my age and a dog (unleashed) came walking down the sidewalk. Side note: I'm terrified of dogs. I've been bitten twice while other people are petting the "friendly" dog. Dogs just don't like. Since I didn't know this dog, I moved to the other side of the sidewalk so that I would be further away from it. The man walking it sneered at me and said "It's not going to bite you!" "I don't know that. I have a phobia of dogs" I reply. "Fuckin' bitch, by acting like this you're making my dog nervous. What are you? Three years old? You're too old to be afraid of dogs"! Well lets just say that this is my 15th year of being afraid of them and by acting wary of strange/unknown dogs, I haven't been bitten since I was a teen!

A couple of days later my boy and I went out to Ihop for breakfast. Taking a sip of my coffee, which I normally take black, I realized that I needed cream and sugar to make it more palatable. After adding copious amounts of cream, I go to grab my spoon to stir it in. The waitress for some reason decided that I needed two forks instead of a spoon. Perhaps she sensed I take my coffee black...or she thought I was so OCD that I couldn't use the same fork for my eggs and hash browns. Who knows? The boy got a spoon and I didn't. No spoon for Jen.

Beauticians are assholes!

2010-09-22T05:53:00.000-07:00

After putting up with years of razor burn, I decided to bite the bullet and get waxed. I spent a week growing out my hair. Turns out there are advantages to not having a boyfriend. So I'm laying there half naked while this woman is waxing me. I ask to get my eyebrows done as well. As she's doing them, she looks at me and says "Oh, hun! You're moustache is getting really bad. Do you want me to get rid of that for you?" "What?!?! I have a moustache? Oh my god! YES! Get rid of that sucker!" I reply.

For clarification, I was lying there half naked so I was feeling a little bit vulnerable at the time. Afterwards (when I could barely walk...getting your girl bits waxed is frickin' painful!) I called everyone I knew to accuse them of not telling me I had a huge handlebar moustache. They all reassured me that it was only because this chick was two inches from my face and she just wanted to make the extra 8 bucks that she told me I had a 'stache. I apparently didn't have one. I guess this is also the reason why you always close your eyes when you kiss someone. NO ONE looks good close up!!

Well good for you beautician lady! You got the extra 8 bucks! But was it really worth it? It's Vancouver, I can throw a rock and hit a million waxing/nail/hair/massage salons, and Starbucks. You've just lost a repeat customer.

Hint: If you're a beautician, don't tell customers that they could be the bearded lady in the circus!

I'm surprised that I've only been to the ER once these last two weeks!

2010-09-22T05:40:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, I'm accident prone. Like REALLY FUCKIN' accident prone. I blame my parents for the bad genes! A few weeks ago, I got out of bed to go to the washroom when I stepped on one of my three cats. He was startled by this 130 pound woman stepping on him and like any crazy cat, he attacked. He scratched through the top of my big toe so badly that I had to go to the ER and get stitches. Bad month eh? Oh it's not over yet....

Two weeks ago, I was carrying a load of laundry downstairs when I tripped over my feet and fell down a flight of stairs. Oh and I spilled dirty laundry down the hallway (mostly undergarments...in front of three of my neighbours!). Now I have bruises up and down my legs, I'm just thankful it's no longer short season!

A few days ago, I was getting some groceries from my car when I somehow managed to slam my middle finger in my trunk. Now for most people when this happens, it ends up breaking the appendage or at least leaving a nasty bruise (I know, I've had my toe slammed in a truck door before). I somehow ended up scraping off a layer of skin. Now I've got a dime sized chunk of skin missing from my middle finger. Could be worse, I do enjoy showing off the wound!

And to top it all off. I hit myself in the face. Yes, you did read that correctly. I thought I felt a spider (which I'm deathly afraid of). Turns out it was only a stray hair. All I had to do was put my hair in a pony tail and then I wouldn't have the black eye I got from punching myself in the face.

Lost and found

2010-08-18T02:03:00.000-07:00

A while back I was on the sky train. Suddenly I felt a hand on my ass. Okay, it's crowded, it's probably a mistake. It wasn't. The hand started squeezing my butt cheek. so I promptly grabbed the arm by the wrist held it up in the air and asked "Excuse me, does this hand belong to anyone? I found it on my ass?" Everyone in the train started laughing and the greasy guy got off at the next stop.

Moral of the story: Don't try and fuck with me, because I will embarrass the shit out of you!

I've locked myself up again.

2010-08-18T00:02:00.000-07:00

I thought maybe it was safe to venture outside again. I had waited a few hours for the bad karmic energy to wear off. I had drank a pot of calming tea and had meditated. Turns out the universe still hates me.

I was on my way back from the pet store, driving along Granville street when a trolley bus in front of me lost his poles. I stop and block part of the left lane so the driver could put the poles back up without being hit by a car. Suddenly a taxi pulls up beside me and starts honking like he's got a woman giving birth in the back seat. He didn't. Since it was nice out and we both had our windows down, I explain that the bus driver lost his poles and it'll take a minute to put them back up. He gives me the finger and calls me a fuckin' cunt. As soon as the bus starts going, the taxi decides to switch lanes in front of me, without a signal. I honk because he's about to take off my bumper. He gives me the finger and proceeds into my lane. I had to hit my brakes so hard, my car slid sideways on a dry road.

The worst part was that when I called to complain, the secretary laughed at me and hung up. I called from a different number, got the supervisor left a message and three hours later he didn't reply. So I just called again, that same supervisor accused me of driving badly, laughed in my face and told me "good luck in getting rid of your N"!

BOYCOTT YELLOW CAB COMPANY! THEY'RE EVIL!!!!!!!!

Apparently my life is somewhat interesting...I thought all the stuff that happened to me was just normal.

2010-08-17T22:24:00.000-07:00

While on facebook today I was bombarded by comments, emails and phone calls about how my facebook status updates are so interesting and they make people's day. I'm not really trying, I'm basically just stating the facts of the things that happen to me on a daily basis. Apparently, this kind of shit doesn't usually happen to other people.

Since 3pm I've locked myself in my apartment. Why? Because I have reverse horseshoes shoved up my ass today...nope cancel that, thirteen reverse horseshoes shoved up my ass.

It all started off with my morning walk. As I was passing by a construction site, I overhear one worker say to another "Fuckin' hell. She looked hot from far away. My eyesight must be going". Yeah, it was me they were talking about.

Later on I was driving down many of the one way streets downtown when this elderly Asian woman turns the corner and hits my car head on. She then proceeds to yell at me in Chinese and give me the finger. I calmly point to the street sign (with the ginormous arrow) saying that she turned the wrong way. As I was inspecting my car for damage, she gets back into her Lexus SUV, backs up and peels away. Awesome!

An hour later I'm doing some grocery shopping at Safeway. I notice quite a few people staring at me which isn't that uncommon as I do have a buttload of tattoos and piercings. I then notice a few people pointing and some smiles. Well, I am wearing a really cute dress that shows off my figure so I strut my stuff a little bit more. It's only when I'm seated in my car that I realize the top of my dress has come untied and I had flashed the entire grocery store for who knows how long. Oh, and I wasn't wearing a bra. The worst part is NO ONE TOLD ME MY BOOBS WERE HANGING OUT OF MY DRESS, not even the cashier who made eye contact with me.

So yeah, it was an embarrassing day but for me, well let's just say I've survived worse.

Who doesn't love being judged based solely on their appearance?

2010-08-14T21:26:00.000-07:00

Today I decided that I needed to test drive a Volvo C30. As I walk onto the lot, I notice a 1967 P1800 parked out front. Hold on a sec, I'll find a picture or two for you.

The side view

The rear view

Salesperson: How are you today?

Me: I'm in love.... Can I test drive her?

Salesperson: Sure, just let me go and get a plate and the keys.

A few minutes later he comes out minus the plates and keys.

Salesperson: It's a standard.

Me: Umm, yeah, I kinda got that.

Salesperson: Well that's not the problem. The gears aren't syncromeshed so unfortunately you can't drive the car.

Me: I can double-clutch.

Salesperson: The clutch is fine. The gears aren't syncromeshed so it doesn't shift the way a modern car would.

Me: Just for your information when a vehicle isn't sycromeshed you have to double-clutch in it. I learned how to do it on a bus. Can I drive the car now?

Salesperson: Yeah, well a car is different from a bus. Do you have a license?

Me: Really? You're really asking me this? You realize that driving a standard car is a million times easier than driving a standard bus?

Salesperson: I wouldn't know. I've never driven a bus!

So we go out for the test drive and everything is going fine until the gear shifter comes off in my hand. I go to put it back on and pull out the post. If you're ever in a situation like this all you have to do is shove the rod back in and it'll be fine, unless you're test driving a car and the salesperson threatens to make you pay for "breaking" the car!

There's a reason why your teacher always told you to stop eating chalk. It's really cocaine.

2010-08-13T14:07:00.000-07:00

Two days ago I had a burst of energy, which for me is rare. So I decided to take advantage of it by going rock climbing. I quickly grabbed a change of clothes, my harness, shoes and a zip lock bag full of chalk. I load it all up into my trunk and head towards the climbing gym. A few minutes later, I notice two cop cars following me. As they get closer they turn on their lights and sirens and being the good citizen I am, I pull over. Not even thirty seconds later my car is surrounded by about eight cop cars complete with barking dogs which I'm terrified of. Hmm, that's odd. I pull out my license, registration and roll down my window.

Me: Is there a problem officer?

Cop: What are you transporting today?

Me: Heh? I have some dirty laundry in the back seat, a few pairs of shoes and my climbing equipment.

Cop: You realize it's illegal to transport drugs right? We received a tip that you're transporting drugs so we have reasonable cause to search your vehicle.

Me: Me? I don't do drugs, let alone keep them in my car. Feel free to search though.

Cop: It wasn't a request, it was a command. Step out of the car and place your hands on the hood.

Me: Okay.

Now this is when things got slightly weird.

Cop: Why are you barefoot?

Me: Because I knew it was illegal to drive in backless shoes, so I took them off.

There I was standing on one of the busiest streets in Vancouver, barefoot with my hands on the hood of my car while the cops tore apart my car. They get to my climbing equipment, pull out my bag of chalk and ask me why I lied.

Me: I wasn't lying. That's climbing chalk. You know, so your hands don't get super sweaty while climbing.

Cop: Oh okay. Someone called you in saying that you had a bag of cocaine and gave us your license plate number.

Me: Really? They had nothing better to do with their time?

Cop: I guess not. Thank you for your co-operation and even though we know this is just chalk we're going to have to confiscate it anyways.

Me: Okay. You're the boss. Can I go now?

Cop: Yes.

Then I got back in my car, turned around and went straight home. Definitely enough sweating for one day

It's recipe time!

2010-07-19T02:10:00.000-07:00

Cucumber salad.

Ingredients:

Cucumber

Red onion

Cheese (I used feta, but you can use whatever your heart desires)

Extra virgin olive oil

White vinegar

Sugar

Dill

Basil

Thyme

To make:

Slice cucumber, onions and cheese into a bowl.

Dressing:

Some olive oil, a little less vinegar, a pinch of sugar and a dash of the herbs.

Mix all together and voila, you have a tasty, healthy salad.

Yeah, my cooking doesn't really use exact measurements but just go with your gut and you'll end up with a great dinner.

Randumb

2010-07-19T00:35:00.000-07:00

Star Wars = awesome. Subway = not so awesome.

Star Wars on the subway = FUCK YA!!!

Randumb

2010-07-18T21:39:00.000-07:00

I love the fact that this guy rocks out harder in a dress than most guys dressed, well like guys.

This is love

2010-07-18T02:50:00.000-07:00

How does one know that they've been in love? Is it defined by how well you were treated?How much money the other one was worth? The times you spent together?

In my case, I define it by the fact that even though we parted ways over three years ago, there isn't a day I think about her. Yes, her!

Annika....my one true love.

I was currently living in Calgary, Ab and I needed a car. ASAP. I went home for Christmas with the intention of purchasing an automobile. Of course my father reamed me out like nobody's mother, saying I was irresponsible and impulsive and there was no way in hell I would be able to find a reliable car in less than a week. Turns out he was right...don't ever tell him I admitted that.

After test driving a few cars, and finding none that I liked. I finally found my dream car. A Subaru loyal. Less than 100kms, manual transmission

and less than $5000.

Well, let's just say the deal fell through. Later that day, I convinced my dad (the one who was loaning me the money for the car) to come with me to a used car lot in Vancouver. The car I was originally interested in turned out to be a piece of shit. The salesman then showed me a Saab 900s...Annika. She was perfect. I had never really appreciated Saab's before but after seeing this car's curves, I instantly fell in love.

She was fully loaded, with leather interior, windshield wipers on her headlights, a/c, 2.6 litre engine, five speed, sunroof. You name it, she had it. I had her for about two years. Three transmission breakdowns, electrical problems (including the alarm going off at 5am when I tried to start her). It didn't matter, for all of her faults I still loved her. I had many adventures in that car. I managed to get her up to 210kms with four big guys in her.

The day that I was told "her computer was out to lunch" was one of the saddest days of my entire life. I had spent close to ten grand in repairs on this car in the hopes that if I just fixed this one more thing, she would be great for another five years. No such luck. I finally admitted defeat and sold her to a used car dealership for $500.00 In a way, it was like an abusive relationship. I just kept giving and giving while only getting pain and heart ship in return.

I still miss her and love her though.

R.I.P. Annika

I'll always love you.

Randumb

2010-07-17T22:03:00.000-07:00

I would hate to be this chick's husband/wife. Could you imagine waking up next to this face every morning?

Randumb

2010-07-17T21:53:00.000-07:00

These three girls are the female version of jackass, although I personally find them funnier. If you have a weak stomach, don't watch ANY of their videos involving food...especially the sushi ones!

I've been meaning to write, unfortunately I had the plague.

2010-07-07T16:35:00.000-07:00

So many stories...where shall I begin?

Summer has finally arrived and it's now warm enough to leave the house baring both elbows and knees. Oh yeah, let the good times roll. Believe me if you are lucky enough to see my knees in your lifetime, consider yourself privileged. They tend to drive people wild. They're just so bony and pasty white (from being covered up 10 months of the year). Anyhow, like I mentioned in the blog title I've been cooped up inside fighting the plague. I'll spare you the gory details but I will say one thing...

I SURVIVED THE PLAGUE!!!!!

And I'm pretty sure it's the same one that wiped out half of Europe's population.

Yesterday, I finally felt well enough to get out of my pj's, take a shower, and venture out into the wild world outside of my apartment. Before I get into my adventuring, bear with me while I go off on another tangent.

Let me paraphrase this by saying, I HATE the smell of fruity smelling bath products. I refuse to use a body wash that leaves me smelling like a strawberry. It's weird, I don't see how people like that shit but each to their own. So I'm in the shower and I realise that I've run out of shaving cream. I hop back out and run (and slip and fall on my hardwood floors...I also might have shown some neighbourhood kids ALL of my body parts..I really have to start closing the curtains!), and grab a new can out of my closet. I pop back into the shower only to then realise that I've accidentally bought shaving cream that smells like MELONS. Did I mention, I hate the smell of fruity bath products?

So there I was in my shower faced with a moral dilemma. Do I shave with the melon shit? Or do I forgo shaving? Looking at myself, I realised I couldn't do the latter. I had been in bed (dying of the plague) for most of a week and let me tell you, when you have dark hair six days is a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNGGGGGGG time to not shave. So I shaved and then washed off three times to make sure I didn't smell like fruit. After towelling off, I noticed that the scent of shaving gel is much more poignant than the scent of body wash. THE LOWER HALF OF MY BODY SMELLED LIKE MELONS!!!!

Then I decided that it would be a good time to take Yuki (my car) in for an oil change. I pull into the Mr. Lube and because my car is lowered the undercarriage bottomed out on the rails that they have on the ground to keep bad drivers from going into the pit. $100.00 later (I had some other stuff done) I scraped my car out of there. Don't get me wrong I love the fact that my car is lowered but it's just a pain in the ass whenever I go over speed bumps, curbs, or off-roading. On the way home, that's when I realized my A/C didn't work. It only blows hot air. I like my car and I try to maintain her as best as possible (aside from washing, I don't want others to see how beat up and scratched she is), but I refuse to spend hundreds to get the A/C working again.

History of Yuki: I traded Annika, my awesometastic Saab 900s in for $500 and spent $12,000 on Yuki. Three years later she's worth about $4000 at the most, and her tranny's going! I have the same luck with cars as I do with men. They're all fuckin' lemons! Here's some advice to the ladies out there...buy cats and take the bus!

Okay, that's enough for one post.

The cell phone debacle. Aka ALL phone companies are ASSHOLES!

2010-07-01T19:50:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a fair lady in a not so fair land (Port Coquitlam. Visit, I dare ya!) who sold her soul to the devil. Actually she just signed up for a three year phone contract with Telus which is almost the same thing. She had her phone for a while and then decided to suddenly move somewhere else (it was either Saskatchewan or Germany, I was probably drunk at the time) and had to break her contract. She ended up giving the number and phone to her little brother.

When she moved back to Canada (from wherever the fuck she was) she had to get a new phone and telephone number. At the time she was living in Alberta, in an area with no cell phone reception within a 100 kilometre radius. Don't ask why she needed a phone. I suspect she was just trying to look cool.

It didn't work.

Anyhow, this was back in the time when it was legal to drive a five speed car while talking on the phone, smoking a cigarette and giving a blow job. She soon realised that much to her dismay her phone didn't get reception in her car. Now this girl drove a Saab...not a bullet proof tank made of some sort of material that would interfere with cell phone reception. Shortly after she found that the phone was dropping calls in the middle of the street, while dodging traffic right next to a cell phone tower. Needless to say our heroine was pissed off.

She drove 200 kilometers to the nearest cell phone dealer (remember she lived in the boonies?) and ~~demanded~~ asked very kindly if the ever so wonderful salesman could sell her a better phone. She told him that she was willing to pay ANYTHING to get a decent phone. The salesman renewed her contract and gave her a new phone for NOTHING!!!!

Needless to say this phone stopped working and so it happened for two more phones. Finally she renewed her contract for the ~~millionth~~ fourth time when she actually got a phone that worked and she loved. Unfortunately our heroine had a violent temper and ended up throwing her phone against the wall after an argument with either her dad or ex-boyfriend.

It stopped working shortly after that.

She renewed her contract once again and got the cheapest ass phone Telus sold. Four months later, the phone broke. The keyboard refused to work and she hadn't even thrown the phone this time. She ended up calling Telus and complaining only to find out that they wouldn't do anything to help her other than send her shitty ass phone out for repairs only to have it break two months later even though she had been a loyal customer for a bazillion years. Even though she knew of people who had gotten grandfather contracts and new phones because they've been loyal for FOUR FUCKIN' YEARS!!!!

She decided to call Telus' bluff and tell them she was switching to Rogers. The lady politely said "Okay, but you now owe us $400. "

SHIT!!!

So she went to rogers and got a three year plan to get the Iphone. She had it for three whole days and she immediately fell in love and couldn't understand how she had ever lived without this phone.

That weekend our heroine went out on a date and ended up losing her true love. And whomever found her phone didn't even bother to return it. The shitheads took out the simcard and sold the phone on the black market (probably with a bonus of kidneys and slaves) to buy more concubines.

She ended up going back to Rogers and buying the cheapest phone they had (a stupid blackberry) and to this day she still has it. IT SUCKS BALLS!!! Every time she hits a button it either calls 911, or sends a blank text to someone in her phone book.

Why can't this girl catch a break? Where's the night in shining armour bearing the gift of a new Iphone?

And they most definitely didn't live happily ever after.

Fuckin' fairy tales.

It's called multi-tasking bitches!

2010-06-23T21:10:00.000-07:00

Nailing two birds with one stone, that's precisely what I did earlier today. You see I haven't done dishes in a while and have most of them either in the sink or piled on my 2 square feet of counter space. Since my washroom sink was also dirty, I decided to do some dishes in there first in order to clear up some counter space for the clean dishes.

It worked wonderfully, not only is my kitchen less cluttered, my washroom sink is sparkly clean!

I am a household genius. For more cleaning tips, find a maid because I don't clean very often and I write about cleaning even less often.

Clumsy? Me? No way!

2010-06-23T04:13:00.000-07:00

I tripped over my rug and ended up breaking my toe for the third time. It's a different toe this time though, it's my big toe. The first time, I broke the toe second to my baby toe (not sure how, I'm sure I was drunk) and then I fell down the stairs and re-broke it.

I have shitty ass luck. God really hates me. I don't know why, I've stopped burning bibles.

Asshole!

Maybe it's because I keep calling God an asshole and his son a zombie (well, he did rise from the dead).

Damn it all to hell, I did it again. Sorry God, I'll try my very best to not call you an asshole as much from now on.

Note to self: stop being such a smart ass part two.

2010-06-22T00:11:00.000-07:00

I was driving along when this cop pulled out from a side street without looking, causing me to just about t-bone him. Of course I slammed on my brakes and laid on the horn, and luckily I just missed him. The cop pulled a u-turn, put on his lights and sirens and proceeded to pull me over.

It was midnight on a Saturday night so I'm assuming the police officer was embarrassed by his bad driving and afraid I would report him, he thought he would get something on me first.

Cop: Have you had anything to drink tonight?

Me: No

Cop: I'm going to have to do a Breathalyzer on you.

Me: Go ahead.

I pass with flying colours, because I hadn't been drinking.

Cop: Are you on any drugs?

Me: No, I don't do drugs.

Cop: I'm going to have to search your car.

Me: Okay, knock yourself out.

He proceeds to search my car (which I found out after was illegal) and didn't find anything.

Cop: Okay, you can go now.

Me: Perhaps you should take remedial driving lessons instead of blaming your mistakes on innocent citizens? I'm a professional driver, I could help you out.

Cop: Watch your mouth! I could throw your ass in jail if I wanted to but since I'm in such a good mood (translation: he had nothing on me), I'll let you off with a warning.

Then he drove away.

I hate it when people in positions of power try to abuse their power. When it comes to driving, I'll call them on it every time. I don't care if you're a cop or the prime minister, if you've done something wrong, I'll make sure you're aware of it.

Note to self: stop being such a smart ass.

2010-06-22T00:07:00.000-07:00

I was driving along one day when a cop car cut me off without a signal. At the next light we ended up side by side at the red. I motioned for his partner to roll down the window. "It's amazing how your car has so many lights and sirens but no turn signals" I remarked.

The driver looked like he was about to pull out his gun and shoot me, but his partner started laughing.

At least one out of every two cops get my sense of humour!

Is eye makeup remover toxic????

2010-04-21T21:32:00.000-07:00

Say hypothetically I were masterbating (don't judge y'all. I know you do it. It's just no one talks about it) and it were dark and I reached into my drawer (oh, come on. EVERYONE has a drawer) and I pulled out a bottle of lube. Going on about my business, I started wondering why the lube was so watery. Finally I turned on the lights and realized I had a bottle of eye makeup remover in my hand.

Is this one of those situations, I should call poison control? I mean, if this had really happened...it's all hypothetical, remember?

It's starting to really burn. Should I be worried about my girly bits falling off due to exposure of highly toxic chemicals?? Hypothetically, I mean.

Drinking

2009-07-29T01:09:00.001-07:00

Is it a terrible thing to have drank an entire 2 litre bottle of peach cider in less than 6 hours?

Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!

2009-07-17T02:41:00.003-07:00

A while ago, my phone was ringing and I ran to answer it. Unfortunately there was a pillow in the hallway (I was irritated by all of the pillows on my bed and threw one into the hall) and I slipped and fell on the pillow. I landed directly on my ass (not on the pillow...that was by my feet) on the hardwood floors....I did manage to break my fall by bending my ring finger back towards my wrist.

I blacked out for a while after that incident. Once I came to, I realised I had never been in such pain in my entire life. Seriously. I have a fucked up knee (from mountain biking) and can't walk up stairs without it swelling, and a fucked up back (from driving buses-stiff clutch and heavy luggage) and every second day my disc will slip out of place. I've been going to physio for years but am still in constant pain. I honestly don't know what it's like to be able to walk/sit/lie down/move without shooting and/or dull/throbbing pain. On a good day, my pain level is a 2 out of 10, on an average day it's a 5 and on a bad day...well it can go up to 11. Needless to say, I can handle pain better than most people.

I waited an hour after I had fallen to see if the pain would subside (with the help of ~~an entire bottle of Advil~~ one Advil). It was still at the point where I thought I was going to die or at the very least black out again. I decided to call the nurses line. After a few questions she determined that I was going to be paralyzed if I moved another step and I needed to call 911 ASAP.

I called and minutes later a fire rescue truck and an ambulance showed up at my door. The paramedic seemed surprised to see me. "You're the one who called? I thought it was something serious." he remarked. "Well the nurse told me I had to call otherwise I could end up paralyzed" I replied. "Well, get in. We'll take you to the hospital even though you don't need to go" he said. "If I don't need to go, then why don't I just stay here? I was just following orders. I have a bad back and I don't want it to be worse from this fall" I said. "Too late. We're already here. You should have thought about that before you called us" he replied.

Once we got to the hospital, I was treated even worse. The nurses and doctors looked down at me with disdain as though I were some homeless bum abusing the system. It really wasn't like that. I have a lot of health issues (mostly regarding my back...on a good day, I feel like I'm 75 years old) and I really didn't want to make it worse. Finally they diagnosed me. Broken tail bone (which they can do nothing about) and a sprained finger which they can also do nothing about.

Three months later....
I haven't had any problems with my tail bone in over a month. The finger on the other hand...it didn't heal so nicely. I have pain every second day. Everyday if it's raining. It's funny, I thought that a broken bone would have taken longer to heal than a sprain but then again I do use my fingers more often than my tailbone.

Today: I went to ~~throw my fuckin' cat~~ remove my lovely cat from atop the dining room table when I smacked my hand against the wall. Want to guess which part hit the wall first? Yup, my not so healed sprained finger.

Who needs expensive purfume to attract boys when you smell like beer?

2009-07-16T20:53:00.000-07:00

I am lazy. I am the epitome of laziness. Look up lazy in the dictionary and you'll find my picture.

Which is why after my shopping trip to Safeway and the liquor store, I decided it would be more efficient of my time to haul everything up in one load to my apartment instead of two or three. So there I was standing outside my Honda civic looking at four bags of groceries, a case of beer and two bottles of my favorite German beer. Well these two bottles will fit nicely in this bag, one facing up and the other bottle cap down I thought to myself. I placed my keys in my mouth, lest I accidentally lock them in my car which has happened on the odd occasion, placed the four bags (one of which contained both bottles of my FAVORITE German beer) on one arm, picked up the case of beer with the other and managed to ~~slam~~ lovingly shut the door of my car with my foot. Oh and I was wearing a skirt so the guy who passed me as I was doing my acrobatic move did catch a glimpse of my underwear, which is why you should always wear cute panties....not that I go around flashing old men or anything. Anyhow....

Oh, did I mention that I couldn't find any parking in front of my building and I had to park a block away? Or that I am incredibly weak and that carrying all of this stuff for more than ten seconds will cause me to either pass out on the sidewalk and/or drop everything in order to massage my quivering muscles?

Somehow, I managed to make it to the front door of my building. I placed the case of beer on the ground along with my purse, took the keys out of my mouth when the inevitable happened. The bottle I had placed cap side down sliced open the Safeway bag and fell out onto the concrete. It didn't break but the cap came loose causing beer to spray in every which direction.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I dropped everything, grabbed the beer and placed in the garden. Surveying the damage, I see that the front window and door to my building are covered in beer, the sidewalk has a river of beer running down it and my ~~skirt, shirt, sandals~~ entire body is covered in beer. Holy, fuckin', shit! That's alcohol abuse...half a bottle wasted. I was tempted to lick the remains off the door and ground but there was a guy parked out front watching me. So, I trooped up to my apartment, opened the door and threw everything in before the cats escaped. Why do they always try to run away when my hands are full? Then I went back downstairs to rescue the half beer that sat in the garden.

I threw it in the freezer (along with another bottle) because seriously, I'm not into wasting any more beer. I hopped in the shower, and changed into something that smelled a little less brewey. I opened the freezer again to put away the rest of the groceries when the unopened bottle of beer came flying out and landed on the kitchen floor with a thud. Once again the bottle didn't break but the lid did come off, spraying beer all over my newly cleaned kitchen.

Side note: I very rarely clean my kitchen, or anything else for that matter. It all comes back to me being lazy. So the fact that I had cleaned my kitchen and it was now covered in beer (as well as myself), I was to say the least, quite irate.

I grabbed the beer, poured it into a glass and stuck that in the freezer alongside the half bottle already in there.

Grand total:

1 half bottle of beer wasted outside the building
1 half bottle of beer wasted on my kitchen floor

Equals: 1 full bottle of beer wasted.

Moral of the story: I hate being clumsy and I'm going to blame my parents for the bad genes.

Changed my mind again....

2009-05-25T03:11:00.000-07:00

I'm going back to the old blog....it was more fun writing about work...

Why does this kind of shit always happen to me?

2009-03-27T14:58:00.000-07:00

I walked into my apartment lobby and noticed my landlord was vacuuming the upstairs of the building. The extension cord was plugged into an outlet in the lobby and trailed up the stairs. Just as I step over the cord, he yanks on it causing it to whip up into my crotch. I gasp as my eyes instantly fill with tears. I know, I don't have testicles but believe me you me, it still hurt like hell. I wonder if I'll ever be able to have kids after this incident?

The joys of living in a VERY unsoundproof apartment complex.

2009-03-25T23:30:00.000-07:00

It's almost midnight and my upstairs neighbours are vacuuming. Oh did I mention that the floors are hardwood - not carpet that tends to absorb the sound, rather than having it resonate throughout the entire building. You know what? This doesn't even bother me that much.
Why, you ask?

Well, because my neighbours normally spend all waking (and sleeping) hours either dancing around in high heels or rearranging their furniture. Compared to that racket, the vacuum is a welcome silence.

Accord or Bmw??

2009-03-11T18:11:00.000-07:00

Coming up to a red light, I notice a Honda Accord in the lane next to me. Getting closer to it, I see that all of the labels on the car have been removed and have been replaced with BMW paraphernalia.

Once I get next to the accord, that's not so cleverly disguised as a BMW, the driver motions for me to roll down my window. I comply.

"Hey, Baby!" Sleazy guy

"You do realise that you're driving an accord not a BMW, right?" Me

Crestfallen face. "You can tell?" Sleazy guy

I roll up my window and drive away.

An endangered species on it's way to extinction and I don't care!

2009-03-11T01:19:00.001-07:00

Landlines (yes landlines. What did you think I was going to say? Ring tailed Lemurs?) are well on their way towards becoming obsolete. Now a days it seems that the majority of people under the age of thirty only have cell phones. Don't get me wrong. I love my mobile. I'm hardly home long enough to justify having a home phone. Although as great as cell phones are, I find they are lacking somewhat.

I miss the familiar dial tone you'd hear when you picked up the phone to call out. Remember when answering machines changed from boxes with a tape inside to voicemail? You'd pick up the phone and hear a series of beeps within the dial tone indicating that someone had left a message. We don't get that anymore. Call me crazy but I want it back.

I'm finally starting to understand this whole generation gap thing. In fifty years, I'll be sitting in my rocker, knitting a sweater, and reminicsing about the good ol' days where we picked up the phone and heard beeps, while the younger generation shakes their head sadly and looks at me as though I'd been drinking from listerine bottle again.

One too many chai lattes.

2009-03-11T01:00:00.000-07:00

You know you've had too much caffeine when your neighbour's playing Billie Jean by Michael Jackson, it's midnight, and you're dancing on your balcony.

Still haven't paid my phone bill but I did buy a new book.

2009-03-03T00:44:00.000-08:00

Earlier tonight, I actually bought three new books (shhh. Don't tell Telus, I spent my phone bill money on books). I couldn't help it. I'm addicted to reading. Side note: I have three bookshelves in my flat but enough books to fill four. The friend that I was with commented that I was a nerd on three different levels when he found out which books I was purchasing.

The books:

Eats, Shoots and Leaves - Lynne Truss

Stone the crows. Oxford dictionary of modern slang - John Ayto and John Simpson

Found. The best lost, tossed and forgotten items from around the world - Davy Rothbart

In case you haven't noticed by now. I'm absolutely atrocious when it comes to grammar, which is why I bought the first book. I picked up the second just because I love dictionaries and read them quite frequently. I know what you're all thinking....SHE IS A NERD!!! But, I just love expanding my vocabulary...learning new words. It's just another one of my crazy hobbies. Finally, the third book; I got this one because I love finding lost treasures. I always pick up stuff on the street in the hopes that it will be amazing. I come from a long line of pack rats and dumpster divers. No, no one in my family is homeless, they all just love to pick through other people's trash (mostly just my mum's side).

I have fond memories of walking down the alleys of New Westminster with my Papa finding forgotten treasures, and of dumpster diving with my brothers, cousins and Auntie Kari while at the Glen. Rewind seven years ago, I would have been mortified had anyone known the truth about myself and my family. Dumpster divers? There go my dreams of ever marrying into royalty. Now a days, I don't give a rats ass as to what people think of me. I will proudly proclaim that I, Jen have delved into many a dumpster and picked up random bits of paper on the street.

Which is why I was so incredibly excited when my friend introduced me to the book Found. The author has been collecting people's letters, photographs and other random shit for years before he started compiling it all into a magazine. Now people from all over the world send in copies of things that they've found ranging from letters to photographs. He has two Found books and two Dirty Found (same concept as the original found books but dirtier. IE: nude pics, pornographic letters etc....) books out. It's amazing. It's not just me and my family that partake in this activity. I am one of many!!!! Woot! Woot!

Needless to say, I was quite excited to sit down and read this book. Unfortunately, years of sitting in front of a computer has corrupted me. I CAN'T READ HANDWRITING ANYMORE!! I'm so used to fonts that I found it incredibly difficult, if not impossible to read some of the handwritten letters. And even worse, I found I lacked the patience to attempt to decipher the script. Is that horrible or what? If I'm having this much trouble, I wonder what it'll be like for the next generation.

Necro playing fetch

2009-03-02T03:02:00.000-08:00

I tried uploading this video directly onto Blogger but after an hour it still wasn't finished. So here it is on youtube. Enjoy!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e99-KhLwLBA

Right size for a bonsai?

2009-03-02T00:32:00.000-08:00

I sit on the balcony of my apartment, feeling the rain hit my face. An Asian gentleman who appears to be not a day older than 120 comes strolling out from behind a shrubbery. Armed with a tape measure and a golf umbrella he begins to take measurements of the shrub. Height. Width. Depth. Apparently satisfied, he moves onto the next one. This goes on for the next twenty minutes or so. Once all of the foliage is properly measured he disappears into the building.

There are a few things in this scenario that I don't quite understand.

1. Is there a law in Vancouver dictating how large shrubs can be?

2. How on earth did he remember all of the measurements without writing them down?

3. Have I lived in Vancouver so long that I'm no longer surprised by this sort of behavior?

Best sandwich ever!!!

2009-02-27T18:20:00.001-08:00

Take two pieces of bread. It doesn't matter what kind. White. Multi grain. Whole wheat. Stale. Moldy. Who cares? It's just frickin' bread! Waterproof the bread with some mayo (for those of you that are of the lower IQ. Cover ONE side of the bread with mayo). Add a bit of BBQ sauce for some tang. Slice up an onion, and throw a few pieces on there. Note: the onion is raw...not cooked. Add some roast beef, sliced pickles, cheddar cheese and black pepper. Et Voila!! You have a sandwich, that tastes awesometastic!

PS. I'm not pregnant. I just like creating unusual sandwiches. It's like a hobby. Everyone needs a hobby right??

Worst cat owner EVER!!!

2009-02-24T22:53:00.000-08:00

Is it a bad sign that my cat responds more to shithead than his own name?

Bashed knuckles

2009-02-24T00:38:00.000-08:00

On Sunday night I went to my friends' house to watch a few movies. This time, I actually remembered which house was theirs and didn't knock on the neighbour's door (that's another story, for another time). Their house has no outdoor light and since it was dark, I couldn't see much. What I didn't know was that there was a nail attached to the outside of their door (presumably for hanging a Christmas wreath). I made my door-knocking fist and proceeded to attack their door. Unfortunately, the first spot I made contact with was the nail. All I have to say about the experience is...."Owwwww!! Holy shit!! Mother fucker!!! Balls!!!" Then my friends laughed at me.

Just another farce religion....

2009-02-22T15:46:00.000-08:00

L. Ron Hubbard is the founder of Scientology - an ever growing cult that boasts over 8 million members in over 70 countries. The religion is also home to a few of Hollywood's biggest stars (Tom Cruise, Jenna Elfman, John Travolta), no doubt causing the surge in recent popularity. Prior to the birth of Scientology, Hubbard was a science fiction writer (aka...someone with a vivid imagination!!!). One of his science fiction critics (Sam Moscowitz) is rumoured to have heard him say "The easiest way to get rich is to found your own church"

Now that's bloody brilliant. Start a religion, gain international fame and fortune, and sit back at the end of the day and laugh about all of the innocents you've hoodwinked.

Want an inside look at scientology? Check out this video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rD9bCdHqU3s&feature=related

The bells are ringing again.

2009-02-09T01:17:00.001-08:00

I was very excited. I had just spent an obscene amount of money on three new candles that smelled absolutely divine. I couldn't wait to get home and light these babies up. The drive home seemed to take hours (in reality it was only twenty minutes). Being so excited, I neglected to follow the basic rules of the road. 82 in a 50 zone. Pshhht. No big deal. Just about rear ending someone who decided to stop at an amber that had just turned from green a nanosecond before. Kinda a big deal.

OKAY REALITY CHECK, GIRL! THEY'RE JUST CANDLES. NO NEED TO DRIVE LIKE A TYPICAL VANCITY MORON! THE WORLD'S NOT GOING TO END IF I GET HOME FIVE MINUTES LATER.

With that in mind, I lowered my speed to a respectable 70 kilometres an hour. By the time, I got home I was almost orgasmic with anticipation. I tore the wrappers off with my teeth, lined the candles up on a plate and just admired them for a few minutes. Glancing around, I noted that I couldn't see a single lighter. Oh well, I'm sure I had one in my purse. After emptying the contents onto the floor, I saw that I didn't have a lighter.

WHAT?!? I'M A BLOODY SMOKER. I'VE GOT TO HAVE A LIGHTER SOMEWHERE.

I turned my flat upside down in my search for a lighter and even still couldn't produce one. Finally I found a pack of matches. Deep breath in. It's go time. I struck the match and proceeded to light my virgin candles. All lit, all is well.

I blew out the match. Unfortunately, I was standing directly under the smoke detector and it went off. Shit. So much for my zen, beautiful candle smelling moment I was hoping to achieve.

A quote

2009-02-07T22:27:00.000-08:00

After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning and company doesn't always mean security. And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises and you begin to accept your defaults with your head up and your eyes ahead with the grace of a woman not the grief of a child and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow's ground is uncertain for plans and future's have a way of falling down in mid flight. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn you really can endure, you really are strong and you really do have worth, and you learn, and you learn, with every goodbye you learn.

-Veronica Stoffstall

Luna moth

2009-02-07T03:06:00.000-08:00

I recently had a conversation with a friend regarding a moth.

A luna moth comes out of it's cocoon without a mouth. It's sole purpose in life is to mate. Essentially all it does is mate until it dies of starvation.

"Wow. That's incredible. I really envy this moth. It has a purpose. This is it's life and it knows what it's supposed to do. And it accomplishes it. I wish my life were more like that. I mean, I don't have to produce offspring if I don't want to. The world is already over populated, there is no need for me to contribute. I have nothing in this world that I have to do. I could die today and the majority of the world wouldn't even care. It seems that every animal and plant except for humans has a purpose. Why am I here? What's the point?" I commented.

"Well that's one way of looking at it, I guess. But try looking at it this way. You have freedom. You have the choice of not having kids if you don't want to. You can do exactly as you please, you don't have any guidelines to follow. There's nothing that you have to do and yet so much that you can do. You've already accomplished so much. And there's still so much to see and do. You can go anywhere, do anything you want whereas this moth is limited. You're not." my friend replied.

And this is the reason she's my best friend.

Growing up

2009-02-07T00:31:00.001-08:00

I am twenty five years old, a quarter of a century, five years from being classified as a cougar.

When I was younger I always wanted to be older. I remember being in second grade and seeing all of the seventh graders, looking so grown up and cool. When I was thirteen, I thought seventeen would be the perfect age. I'd be able to drive, I'd have boobs (little did I know, mine wouldn't appear until I was nineteen), I would be able to do what I wanted to, I'd be free and cool.

I'm at the point now where I don't desire to be any older. I also don't desire to be any younger. I am perfectly content with the age that I am. I suppose that as I continue to age, I'll start wishing to be young again but I'll deal with that hurdle later. I am where I am and I am who I am and I'm okay with that.

I had my dreams, some realistic, most not. Dreaming is important. I was lucky; growing up my parents encouraged me to dream. They always heard me out, even when I was rambling, even when I changed my mind on a daily basis, and even when my dreams weren't possible. They loved me and they did everything in their power to help me achieve my dreams. From this, I learned to hope, to desire tomorrow and all it had to offer and to not be afraid to try.

I'm at the age where a lot of my friend's are starting to get married, to settle down, and even start families. Ten years ago, I predicted that I would be madly in love with someone, living in a cabin in the woods chock full of books, my float plane parked on the lake out front and my loyal dog at my side. Today, I look around my one bedroom apartment in the city chock full of books with my Honda civic parked on the street out front, not in love with anyone, with my two temperamental cats at my side and even though this isn't my dream, I'm okay with it. I'm not famous, I've never been published, I've never sold a piece of art, I can't fly a plane, I've never saved a life, I've never won a Nobel prize, I've never been to University but I'm starting to understand and finally accept who I am.

Sure, there's a lot that I haven't done but there's also a lot that I have done. I've learned to drive standard so well that if you had your eyes closed you wouldn't be able to feel me shifting gears, I've lived in another country; one where I didn't know anyone nor speak the language, I've driven a six wheel drive bus on a glacier, I've gotten over my fear of public speaking, I've shared my writing with anyone who came across it on the Internet, I've lived on my own, I've fallen in love, I've become independent, I've gone to college, I've been chastised, I've been humbled, I've grown and I've learned.

It's taken a lot to get to the point of where I am today. I was a shy child, so shy that if a teacher called on me in class, I would turn bright red, stammer and usually start crying. This behavior continued on right up until high school. Now imagine how you would react when you see a 16 year old crying because the teacher asked her a question. My school years were some of the hardest years of my entire life. On top of the shyness, I was also socially awkward. I was naive and didn't learn the new slang words until they were at least five years out of date.

One of my most vivid memories is when I was in eighth grade. I had two friends who were popular, pretty, cool, had boobs and had already gotten their periods. One day they asked me if I knew what a blow job was. "Of course I do. What? You don't know what that means?" I countered. "Well, you do know what it means when a guy cums right?" they asked. I racked my brains but couldn't even begin to imagine what they were talking about. I failed their little test and was promptly shunned. It broke my heart. Looking back, it's good that it happened. These girls were having sex, drinking, doing acid and shoplifting. I was so insecure, I would have partaken in anything just to be accepted and consequentially wouldn't be where I am right now.

As hard as I tried I couldn't make friends for the life of me. So I escaped into the world of literature. Books were amazing. I could become part of the story and the characters never made fun of me. As long as I can remember books have been the most important part of my life. Even though I had my books, I never stopped trying to fit in. I begged my mum to buy me the cool clothes. I compromised my values on more than one occasion on the off-chance that I might be accepted. It never worked. I was 5'8, weighed 95lbs, had short hair and was often mistaken for a boy. I did make some friends though; ones that saw through the awkwardness and insecurity and loved me for who I was (even though I didn't even love myself at the time). To this day, I'm still friends with them. They know me inside and out and I'm eternally grateful to them for making my high school years bearable. Beth and Erin, you are the best friends a girl could have and I love and appreciate everything you've done for me.

As for love, I was hurt quite badly when I was seventeen. I chose to not allow myself to be close to any man again until I was fully healed. At twenty one I felt ready to open my heart again. Since then, I've become a serial dater. Not knowing what I really wanted from a man, I tried to remain open-minded. I've lowered my standards and given guys a chance just because, you never know. I won't say it was a big mistake because I did learn a lot about men and myself. Well after having my heart broken countless times I finally came to the conclusion that it's better to be alone than to be with someone who doesn't fit my standards. These are the lyrics from one of my favorite songs by Fortyfive Rpm. It's a cover of Perfect by Fairground attraction. This is my new motto and I hereby refuse to lower my standards for any man.

Well I don't want half half hearted love affairs

I need someone who really cares.

Life is too short to play silly games

I've promised myself won't do that again.

It's gotta be, it's gotta be perfect.

It's gotta be, it's gotta be worth it.

Too many people take second best

But I won't take anything less

It's gotta be, it's gotta be perfect

Young hearts are foolish

They make such mistakes

They're much too eager to give their love away

Well, I have been foolish too many times

Now I'm determined I'm gonna get it right.

I'm still socially awkward, have trouble keeping up with the current lingo, and much prefer to bury my nose in a book than go out with people. I have trouble thinking on my feet. It's not that I'm not smart because I am. It's just I need time to think before I can come up with an appropriate answer. If I try to respond to a question or take part in a debate about a subject I haven't researched and thought about thoroughly, I usually end up stuttering, forgetting words (or mixing up words), or saying something so incredibly inappropriate that the other party instantly regrets engaging me in conversation. To those who don't know me and understand me, I come across as an ignorant imbecile. I used to be envious of my younger brothers who are both popular and are able to communicate without embarrassing themselves horrendously. Now I'm not.

I've been through a lot and I've made a ton of mistakes but I wouldn't change any part of past. Every decision, every mistake, every triumph makes us who we are. As much as I regret the decisions I've made, as much as I've been hurt, as much as life has simply sucked; it's part of me. It's molded me into the fantabulous being I am today. Yes, I'll continue to make mistakes. I'll use poor judgement. I'll say stupid things. I'll offend people. It's okay though. It's all part of growing up and learning.

This is the difference between my old self and my new self. I'm still the same person but with one difference. I accept and am learning to love me exactly the way I am. I won't comprimise just to please someone. I'm the only one I have to worry about. Love me or hate me, I won't change who I am just for you. I'll always fall short when I compare myself with others. But if I compare myself to myself in the past, I'll always feel good. I'll have done something new. Maybe it's only reading a new book or driving down a different street but it's something. I'll take things one step at a time, one day at a time, set small goals for myself and eventually I'll make it.

There's still so much that I want to accomplish and achieve. I will continue to dream, both realistic and impossible dreams and I'll continue to yearn for tomorrow and all it has to bring. This has been a hard and trying time for me. To my friends and family, thank you for always being there for me. I don't think I could make it on my own. Life is a battle but I'm not ready to give up yet.

Book list

2009-02-06T16:46:00.000-08:00

Here's a list of some of my most favorite books....

The bell jar - Sylvia Plath
The Glass castle - Jeannette Walls
Under the banner of heaven - Jon Krakauer
The driver - Alexander Roy
Being dead - Jim Crace
The devil's larder - Jim Crace
West with the night - Beryl Markham
Dr. doolittle - Hugh Lofting
Oh the places you'll go - Dr. Suess
Anything written by Bill Bryson
To kill a mockingbird - Harper Lee
Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
The great gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
The red tent - Anita Diamant
My sister's keeper - Jodi Picoult
Shantaram - Gregory David Roberts
Life of pi - Yann Martel
Cancer ward - Alexander Solzhenitsyn
Lord of the flies - William Golding
Don Quioxte - Miguel de Cervantes
Stolen life - Rudy Wiebe/Yvonne Johnson
Burridge Unbound - Alan Cumyn

These are just a few of my many favorites. The list constantly grows and changes.

Real mature

2009-02-06T16:08:00.000-08:00

To the guy who cut me off in the Cadillac Escalade the other day.

It's 2009, technology has changed a fair bit in the last century, we now have this new-fangled gadget called a TURN SIGNAL! If you want, I can teach you how to use it.

It's kind of funny how you cut me off (just about taking off my front bumper in the process) and when I reacted by giving you a friendly (okay, maybe not so friendly) toot of the horn (I was just making you aware of my presence), you responded by giving me the finger. Well, I'm mature. I don't need to stoop to your level. Notice how I DIDN'T respond by flooring the throttle and smashing into you (Wouldn't that be considered assault with a deadly weapon? As if I want to spend the best years of my life rotting in jail!). Nor did I flip the bird right back at you. What I did do, was back off and give you some space. Believe me, you sure as hell needed. A $60,000 tank with an "N" on the back (turned sideways to make the oh so cool "Z"). Anyone with an ounce of brain cells would stay out of your way. I do have two words for you though.....

Penis Extension?

Bumper cars

2009-02-01T22:09:00.000-08:00

I went out for dinner tonight with a friend. We then drove back to my flat to watch a movie. She decided to park her car in front of mine. As she was backing up, I commented that if she hit my car, I wouldn't hold it against her. She successfully parks the car and I get out and immediately start making fun of her park job. The back end was within 12 inches of the curb but the front end was about 24 inches away. She hops back in the car to re-park it. As she's backing up, I see she's getting close to Yuki (my car). I assume she's going to stop. She doesn't. I motion for her to stop just as she hits my car. Oops. "No damage and you said you wouldn't hold it against me!" she says. Next time, I'm keeping my big, fat mouth shut!

A quote

2009-01-31T23:46:00.000-08:00

This is a quote from one of my new favorite books: The driver by Alexander Roy. He is completely obsessed with driving and cars and it's refreshing to read about someone who's far worse than I am. Most of the time people start tuning me out when I speak because I tend to talk either about cars or driving 60% of the time.

"Rendezvous demonstrated what one can do, must do, if one owns a car like a Ferrari. There is no dignity in bragging about one's car when it has never surpassed 50 percent of its maximum speed, or in comparing diving watches that have never seen the ocean, let alone a shower, or in driving to a restaurant where the girls see not a car but the promise of the rest of their lives pulling up in front of expensive restaurants in bright red sheet metal and tan leather. There is only the absurd cash outlay for the best engineering on four wheels, the question of what equally outrageous challenge it must be put to, and whether that test will be sufficient to please the god of decadence from whose domain the car has been borrowed. To do any less is far worse than wearing $200 sneakers for a pleasant stroll, or domesticating an animal meant to roam free - it's eating McDonald's in Paris, it's watching porn instead of having sex with one's girlfriend, it's returning from war with one's gun unfired. Such second-rate decadence is worse than bad taste. It is not victimless crime. It's an insult to everyone who can't afford the option."

-Alexander Roy

I love this man!!!

Joke's on me

2009-01-29T20:33:00.001-08:00

I love practical jokes. When I was in college, I frequently shafted my friends. One of my favorite jokes was to steal all of their underware and bras, throw them in a five gallon bucket, fill it with water and leave it outside to freeze (It was Saskatchewan and VERY cold).

My dad and I have a game that we play every Christmas. We peel the red wax off of the round white cheese (sorry, I blanked on the name), mold the wax into cubes and hide them on each other. Last Christmas I decided to take things one step further. I took the wax cube and took pictures of it all over the house (similar style to the stolen gnome appearing all over the world game) and then emailed the pictures to him at work.

I'm slightly OCD and I have the pictures and nicknack's arranged perfectly in my apartment. I hate it when people move them and I can always tell. One day my little brother came over and he not only moved my pictures but he had the gall to turn them upside down. Needless to say, I was mad and I wanted revenge. So the next time I was visiting my parents' house I stole his truck. It really wasn't hard. He left his keys in the cupboard and I just walked past him out the front door and drove it away. I parked it out back behind the neighbour's house. He didn't even notice until about half an hour later when he decided to go out. He came back in, found me laughing and proceeded to throw me down the stairs. It hurt but it was all worth it!

At my apartment, I usually use the back door. The only times that I walk through the front lobby is when I'm doing laundry or checking my mail. Yesterday, I walked through the lobby to check my mail. I turned around to head back up to my apartment when I saw a pair of my underware (red, lacy ones) displayed across the only chair in the lobby. When was the last time I did laundry? It must have been a week ago, at least. Oh my God! My gitch has been spread out on the back of a chair for all my neighbours to see for a week!!!! I quickly turned and headed back up to my flat without the underware. With my luck, someone will walk in just as I'm picking it up and know it's mine. I had to think, how could I get my panties back without anyone seeing me. I did the logical thing, I waited until 3am before I dashed down, grabbed my undergarments, stuffed them under my shirt and ran (literally) back to my place. No one saw me. No one can prove that they were mine. And yet I'm still too embarrassed to look any neighbour in the eye!

Hit by a ford????

2009-01-28T22:58:00.000-08:00

I am a snob. A car snob. For the most part, I only enjoy foreign cars, although there are a few domestics that I do like (most of them were made pre 1960's). Want an example of my snobbery? I was outraged when I saw a 1995 saturn up for auction at barrett jackson. I was shocked and disturbed when I was picked up for a date (by a man who claimed he loved cars more than life itself) in a 1987 Ford Mustang.

So to say the least I was appalled when I was hit by a ford focus. If I'm going to die because I was struck by a car, it had better be a damn nice one.

Rewind...

I was on my way to work. As I was about to cross the street, I looked both to the left and to the right (I learned well from my mother). I see a Ford Focus approaching the stop sign and slowing down. I mistakenly assume the driver is going to stop. So I start crossing. Unfortunately, this guy's plan was to come to a rolling stop. The car ends up hitting me at about .5 kilometres an hour (it didn't hurt, I didn't even fall down).

Lack of communication. That was my downfall. And it just about caused my untimely demise. I can just picture my tombstone...."Killed by a ford" How embarrassing!

Who hates me???

2009-01-28T22:46:00.000-08:00

After three weeks of vacation, I'm finally ready to go back to work. Well maybe not ready, per say but forced to go back. I wake up yesterday morning, anticipating the day. Ready for all the passengers who have yet to have had their morning coffee. I've done my morning stretch, snorted my line of coke...ahem, I mean had my cup (or ten) of coffee and am ready to greet the day with a smile. Then (cue dramatic music) I look out the window.

JESUS FUCKIN' CHRIST!!! IT'S SNOWING!! WHO ORDERED THIS SHIT? AND WHY DID IT HAVE TO HAPPEN ON MY FIRST DAY BACK TO WORK? IT DIDN'T SNOW ONCE DURING MY THREE WEEKS OFF BUT THE DAY I HAVE TO GO BACK TO WORK IT SNOWS!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Won't you be my neighbour?

2009-01-25T01:41:00.000-08:00

Today I didn't wake up to the sounds of my rather irritating alarm clock (What?!? Are you kidding? I'm on vacation. What use do I have for an alarm clock?) but I did wake up unusually early. Why? Because my wonderful, beautiful, neighbour whom I love with a passion (if I could figure out which apartment you lived in, I'd come over there with a machete!) was playing techno music...loudly.

Since I was fully awake (once, I'm awake, it's impossible for me to go back to sleep) I decide to get up. My morning routine consists of turning on music and then making coffee. Feeling slightly retro, I put on some bob dylan and I crank it as loud as my crappy computer speakers (hint for birthday or Christmas present) can take. I walk into the kitchen and proceed to make coffee. FUCK! SHIT! BALLS! I can still hear that shitty ass crap that my neighbour considers music. Well, the coffee's made, I'm going back into the bedroom where the computer speakers are located in the hopes that the thumping bass of your bad taste in music will be drowned out.

Ha! Not so much! Oh my God. What do I do? I consider curling up in the fetal position and crying incessantly but I figure that qualifies as defeat. So I go into the living room, plug my ipod into my stereo and crank it up as well. No it wasn't synced with my comp and it was blasting out the horrorpops and between the two bands, it sounded atrocious. Although it did drown out the absolutely horrid techno and to be honest, I'd rather listen to two bands that don't even go together than techno so I win!!!! YEAH ME!!!

To be perfectly honest, I much prefer living here than some of the other places I lived....

Last apartment (across the street) I lived next door to a psycho! I know everyone says that about their neighbour but in my case it was true. He woke me up at 6am on four different occasions. Not a big deal. But when you start work at 5pm and work till 2am and part of your job involves operating heavy machinery, it is a big fuckin' deal! The last time he woke me up, I had an ex-boyfriend staying at my place (don't worry dad, we weren't sleeping together, we just slept together) and when the fighting started between him and his girlfriend at 5:30am (earlier than usual), I got so pissed off that I actually got out of bed and started walking to the door of my flat intending to punch this guy's light's out or at the very least make it IMPOSSIBLE for him to have children. Luckily for my neighbour, my ex-boyfriend calmed me down (which is near to impossible to do when I've been woken up in the middle of the night by loud screaming) and convinced me to go back to bed. Later on, I was informed by my neighbour (one that I work with and love to bits!) that he was arrested that night for abuse. And those stains on the carpet; that's blood from him trying to take on the cops. It was that day that I called my landlord and begged/cried in order to get a flat in the building across the street. Within fifteen days I had re-located across the street.

Just so you know, I currently live in a safe, mostly non-crazy neighbourhood. Before this I lived in the downtown east side....just off of Hastings street (translation: CRACK TOWN!!! CRAZIES AND PROSTITUTES EVERYWHERE!!!!!). But it was cheap and close to where I worked at the time (No, I was not a hooker...close; I was a bus driver). Anyways, I lived in this crappy, old apartment building that was NOT sound proof in any way whatsoever. I had a pretty spacious suite that I was only paying $650 a month for. Yeah, there's a reason it was so cheap (for those of you that don't live in Vancouver...the average price for a nice, mold-free, one bedroom apartment is about $1000 a month). There were disadvantages though...like those two times I got jumped...good thing I know how to fight ( I know, I'm only 5'8 and just over 100lbs but for my size; I can fight like no one's mother!). There was also the disadvantage of my upstairs neighbour. He liked to have sex (hey, who doesn't? I'm not condemning sex in any way, shape or form). The problem was that he only liked to have sex with women who were auditioning to be porn stars. Normal women, they scream or at least gasp when they have an orgasm...which is fine, I can deal with that. The women he slept with screamed (with Ecstasy) through out the entire performance! No big deal, you say? Well what if I told you he had sex at least three times a day and each session, it lasted no less than AN HOUR AND A HALF!!!! Normal? I think not!

I ended up befriending my next door neighbour Alex because he had cable TV and people above him that DIDN'T SCREAM! So consequentially every time the sex started, I booked it to Alex's. After a few weeks, he explained that his sister used to live in my flat and had moved out because of the "horse". "Horse?" I asked. "Yeah, that's what we called him. No man is capable of the stuff he does, thus we refer to him as a barnyard animal". he explained. "Ahhh. Makes perfect sense.". I replied. "Be warned though...after living under the horse, you're going to need to start listening to porno in order to fall asleep at night" He tells me. "Ha ha ha! I don't ever watch or listen to porn" I reply. "We'll see" he says.

Okay. I admit that after I moved out of that place, I did have trouble sleeping at night. But I did not resort to downloading porn....I had a few sleepless nights and then I got used to sleeping without the screaming.

Ps. Alex stopped at the side of road to pick up a girl that had a cut leg. He took her to the hospital where she got the stitches she needed. Along the way he distracted her in conversation to take her mind off the pain. He found out that she was an escort and absolutely loved it because it afforded her the lifestyle she wanted. As a joke he asked if she ever frequented his building (because as an escort, why on earth would you come to the downtown east side?). Much to his chagrin she replied that she went there on an almost daily basis! Yeah, she was one of the auditioning porn stars, that I've come to hate. After work he booked it over to my flat to share the news.

I LOVE MY APARTMENT AND THE FACT WE HAVE NO ESCORTS HERE!!!!!!

Flaming cats

2009-01-24T22:44:00.000-08:00

This is reason number one as to why I should not reproduce....

I have two cats which I do love with a passion. They're ten months old; siblings and I adopted them about six months ago. First of all we have Lucy who's grey. She tends to forget things quite easily. For example she'll be lying on the edge of the couch and then she'll forget she's on the edge of the couch and roll over only to fall off the couch (and cat's don't land on their feet under these circumstances). She does this ALL the time. If she were a human, her IQ would be in the low twenties! Point being she's dumb! But I still love her.

Her brother Necro (the black devil cat) is very smart....like Einstein smart. If this cat had opposable thumbs, he'd end up prime minister! Sometimes I wonder if one of his parents was a dog. He plays fetch, knows how to sit and always tries to bury his food (difficult to do with a hardwood floor). He also destroyed the spray bottle (the one I used to spray the cats whenever they did something bad). I don't know how he did it but he managed to break it so badly, I couldn't repair it and thus had to buy a new one which he promptly broke!

Moving on.

I love candles. I always have them lit when I'm at home. Usually I make sure the candles are in bullet proof containers or up high enough that the cats can't get to them. Tonight though I had a candle lit on the dining room table...the same table that the cats NEVER go on. Lucy for some reason seemed to think it would be a good idea to jump up on the table and then try to jump over the burning candle. I saw it all happening in slow motion and I tried to stop the cat. She unfortunately doesn't understand the meaning of no and proceeded to jump over the candle.

Yeah, she caught on fire. By the time I reached her, she had managed to put out the flames (yes, she had flames coming off her fur...I know, I'm a bad pet owner). On the plus side the flames didn't hurt her. On the down side, her fur was singed and my flat smelled like burned hair for TWO WHOLE DAYS!!!

Useless

2009-01-24T19:57:00.000-08:00

I cannot snap for the life of me.

What I can do is make a very quiet sound similar in nature to a snapping sound with my thumb and pinkie...it's sorta a snap. Right?

NOT sexy

2009-01-24T16:44:00.001-08:00

Being able to pull down your pants (Jeans! NOT SWEATS OR ANY OTHER TYPE OF STRETCHY FABRIC PANTS) without undoing them.

I realise that I've lost a lot of weight but until five minutes ago, I didn't really understand how much a lot is. Before you even ask...I AM NOT ANOREXIC OR BULIMIC! I worked nights for about four months and it kinda messes with your system. Some side effects: not being able to fall asleep even though you're frickin' exhausted or falling asleep only to wake up again every half hour, and not feeling like eating. You try getting home at 2:30am and see if you feel like food...I guarantee you won't!

There was light at the end of the tunnel though...or so I thought...I went on vacation for three weeks. Unfortunately God hates me and I was sick for 95% of the time. It was the worst kind of sickness too. I finally started feeling better and even tried to do some fun things (some of these things didn't even involve alcohol) with friends only to find the day after I succumbed to the sickness again. At one point I was puking every fifteen minutes for thirteen hours straight. On the plus side, my abs look amazing!

I haven't been sick for four whole days now and I feel like I've finally kicked that bug's ass....knock on wood. It sucks balls that I only have two more days left in my vacation but I guess two days is better than no days.

Back in September I weighed a healthy 125lbs and had a body fat percentage of 22%. Now, I weigh 107 lbs and have a body fat percentage of 17%. I looked up the healthy percentage for a female and for someone that is slim (they had "low" written in brackets) was 19%. Shit! This has got to be one of the worst vacations in the entire history of vacations. Instead of coming out of my holiday time looking tanned and healthy, I come out looking pasty and emaciated. I'm going to a tanning salon first thing in the morning...right after I get some much needed calories from McDonald's!

Driving a car is REALLY effin' difficult!

2009-01-23T23:51:00.000-08:00

Here's a bit of background information before you start to judge me too harshly.

I drive a bus for a living. Therefore the majority of my driving time is spent behind the wheel of a MASSIVE vehicle, not my itty-bitty-teeny-tiny Honda civic .
I haven't driven my car in over three months
I live in Vancouver aka the city where 98% of the people on the road bought their licenses!!

After two days of running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get all of the paperwork and necessities needed to get my baby back on the road I suddenly remembered why I had un-insured my car in the first place. CARS ARE EXPENSIVE!!! First there was the day permit, then the air care, then the actual insurance (which is pricier than the average car because Honda civics's are one of the top cars stolen. Not because they are particularly easy to steal; it's odds. Do you realise how many honda civic's there are out on the road right now? A lot!), then there's the oil change, and finally the cost of having a nail removed from my tire. Thanks Dad for letting me park the car in your workshop! I appreciate it! For the sake of my almost new tires, I'm never doing it again!

Finally it's time for a joy ride. Okay, apparently I didn't get the memo saying that driving in Vancouver is anything but a joy ride. Going from operating a vehicle that weighs several (as in more than ten) tons to a vehicle that weighs so little, you could probably blow it away with a strong gust of wind is a hard transition to make. I'm used to people seeing me and moving the hell out of my path. Now people don't even notice my little blue car. *sniff* *sniff* I no longer have any power on the road.

I drove down Granville street from the pet food store back to my flat. I was headed south (away from downtown for all you non-Vancouverites) so I figured (wrongly) that the driving wouldn't be that bad (stupidly aggressive. The average Vancouverite driver honks and/or gives the finger every thirty seconds usually for none other reason than to show off their new Maserati that they still can't drive worth shit!). In the course of fifty blocks I counted no less than twenty cars that either drifted into my lane without a turn signal, aggressively cut me off without a turn signal or signaled and pulled in front of me regardless of whether it was safe to do so or not (IE: the absolutely gorgeous Audi A3 that was at a standstill and pulled in front of me with about two car lengths to spare. I WAS GOING 50 KILOMETRES AN HOUR, I HAD TO SLAM ON MY BRAKES TO AVOID HITTING YOU. FUCKWIT!!!!).

On top of all that fun, I was still trying to get used to driving my car again. In the bus, the turn signals are two buttons on the floor, activated by our left foot. Every time I went to turn on my indicator, I groped around the floor of my car with my foot, inevitably banging my shin against the clutch. Speaking of the clutch, the first few times I came to a stop, I forgot about it and thus stalled the car. It's embarrassing enough when you stall your car but when you stall your car coming to a stop, that's embarrassing enough that you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR STALLING YOUR CAR WHEN BRAKING FOR A RED LIGHT!! Oh did I mention, I stalled the car trying to pull the car into the oil change bay. To make matters worse, the attendant asked me "Just trying to learn to drive stick?" Instead of being truthful and admitting that I've been driving standard for eight years, I meekly nodded and said "Yeah, it's hard to get the hang of". I know there's a spot reserved in hell for me!

I finally end up getting the hang of this whole turn signal thing (well mostly...there were those few times that I turned on my wipers instead and the worst part: in the city where there is perpetual rain...it wasn't raining!). I decide to stop at Safeway to pick up a few necessities (and luxuries from the liquor store next to Safeway). I forget that my car is lowered (previous owner, not me) and I drive over a speed bump at five kms. Yup, I completely destroyed the undercarriage! Yeah! I love being back in my car, having to drive no faster than 2 kms (seriously, I tried 3 once...it was not pretty) over speed bumps!

Bad Idea

2009-01-23T18:15:00.000-08:00

Spend the entire morning cleaning your washroom (like, having it so incredibly clean, you could lick the floors) and then decide to give your cats a bath.
End result: Water and fur EVERYWHERE! And by EVERYWHERE I mean even the ceiling!

Flaming tea towels

2009-01-22T20:03:00.000-08:00

Now that title, it sounds like a curse doesn't it? Something you'd shout out when you've stubbed your big toe, fallen down the stairs, or had your mother physically block the television screen with her body because it was time to eat dinner.

OR perhaps it's a phrase that could be used when it's 5:30am (and haven't been to sleep yet and vacation is the one time that you can actually embrace your late owl/insomniac tendencies) and have decided that some oven roasted potatoes would be incredibly tasty right now. Seeing as the potatoes are finished, you use a tea towel (you have no idea where your oven mitts, in your disaster that you call a kitchen, are) to remove the baking sheet from the oven. As you're reaching into the oven with the towel, it catches on fire.

In this situation, I believe that normal people would react to the flaming towel in their hand by immediately flinging it to the floor and stomping it out with their foot. Not me. I stood for a moment with the flaming towel in my hand (it was burning my hand at this point) and stared transfixed by the flames. The next thought through my head was "I hope the fire alarm doesn't go off because of me...my neighbours are going to be right pissed off". So I turned on the fan. Seeing as I still had this mass of burning fabric clutched in my grasp, I looked down at the floor. I have a very wonderful, green kitchen mat that I love with a passion and has survived many moves with me. There was NO way I was ruining that mat. I also had bare feet and I figured that it would hurt to stomp out the flames (although probably no more than it burning my hand, which it was doing quite wonderfully at the time). I looked to my sink (which for once in my life was not filled with dirty dishes), threw the towel in the sink and ran cold water over both it and my slightly blistered hand.

And my Grandmother wonders why I'm 25 years old and not married.

Well Nana, a few reasons...this is reason #1

I LIGHT TEA TOWELS ON FIRE!