Queen of the Animal Kingdom

The animal kingdom is after me. Quietly and slowly, they are collectively freaking me out.

Incident #1:

Walking into work, blissfully unaware that my boss had set up a racoon trap the night before, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw this. I was so startled that I definitely yelped. They just stared up at me, shaking and smelling awful. How stupid are these animals?! That trap was made for one garbage dweller, not two. But, dummy sees his friend in there and now I've got two startling me when I haven't even digested my breakfast yet.

Incident #2:

Again with the breakfast, but as I busied myself making a nutrious, wholesome meal and/or cereal, I glanced down and, a mere inch from my foot, was a dead mouse. In the middle of the floor?!? How did that happen? I didn't even know I had mice. Did he have a heart attack? Was it a mouse fight? What causes a mouse to die out in the open like that? Suicide? I don't really care, just looking for a way to reduce the early morning gasps.

Incident #3:

Ok, this one might be somewhat my fault. I looked out my window last night and saw this ferret-like animal slinking around. Then I noticed it had a chip bag on its head. Ok, that's just funny. So, I ran outside with my camera and followed it into the street. I think it was a cat and I couldn't stop laughing at it. I tried to get close to free him, but remembered a story I heard about some girl being punctured in the wrist by a crazy cat. So, I just sorta followed it around, trying to get the courage to help it. It fell off the curb and walked into a telephone pole. I'm sure it made it through the night. Who are these people trying to sell us on cats being really intelligent? How stupid do you have to be? I know, I'm awful, but it was really, really funny.

California Dreamin'

I cannot get enough of California BLTs. I had one every night for dinner last week until I ran out of bacon, a tragedy in itself. FYI: mortadella just doesn't taste the same.

Avocado, tomato, bacon, lettuce, best mayonnaise ever, white thick toast.....look how delish!

Leftover Desk 'Treasures'

Whoa. Ok, it's been a while since I've posted. Work has been crazy busy and I still don't have home internet, soooo....

First, I was rereading my last post and it sounds a little harsh. I'm too much over the topic to really comment, but let's just say that I will accept and enjoy texts that are something other than flirty or funny if it's from the right person. That is all.

I can't remember if I mentioned this months ago, but I bought a desk on Kijiji and ended up asking out the guy who sold it to me. He had a girlfriend, so instead he decided to 'accidentally' bash up my knee with the aforementioned desk. Anyway, I finally got around to painting it this weekend and after I realized painting the drawers while they're closed isn't a good idea, I removed them all. I found quite a little treasure. Secretly, I was hoping for his number as he reconsidered my date offer. Instead, this:

- recipe for spanikopita

- picture of some chick (maybe the girlfriend?)

- postcard

- blank cheque

- sticker

- rape whistle (not pictured)

- key (also not pictured)

Hmmm, what is this all trying to tell me? And which item do you think I will get the most use out of? Recipe? Whistle? None of it, as it will all be thrown out? Hmmmm.

Seriously, guy?

This is funny:
http://www.urlesque.com/2010/07/26/how-to-text-girls/

Texting is the dating way these days. It can't be avoided. And according to some of the guys in my life, boring texts can't be avoided either. Seriously, people, if you are 'courting' me via text there are exactly two reasons to text me.

1) to be flirty
2) to be funny

If your text does neither of these things, don't even bother. Especially if I have just met you and we are in the precarious early stages where I don't really care that you bought new shoes today or that your new apartment has a gym. Why are you boring me with the details of your day? Or asking me how my day is? That's all fine and good if it's accompanied by something that makes me smile.

Also, although it should go without saying, if you're spelling things incorrectly, might as well press 'END'. If your text makes me roll my eyes or sigh when I read it, that is never a good sign. And I am finally now recognizing these signs and acting accordingly and swiftly. No time for things that don't make me smile. Instead, I'd be better off going back and reading old saved text messages from other people that still make me smile months or years later.

L8R.

Randomness

If you can believe it, I said the following words - in natural conversation and in proper context - all in one day!
- nefarious
- vestiges
- surreptitiously
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Sadly, it was this same day that I caught my first episode of Jersey Shore - thereby deleting any intelligent points I garnered earlier. I've been seeing these creatures in the popular culture that swirls around my head for several months and morbid curiousity caused me to pause on their program. It was, as expected, the worst. Everything I dislike about other people, put into one shameful, irritating, loud display of bottom feeders. Why are we allowing these people to be famous? Why are we indulging them? Why do we care? Why did I waste 30 minutes when I could easily have been watching something more wholesome and valuable to my life. You know, like Project Runway.
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Crime Alert: senior citizens see no problem in eating food without paying for it at the supermarket. In the past few weeks, I have witnessed (and stood idly by) while little old ladies and suspender-ed old men pluck grapes from the aisles, reach into bulk almond containers, bite into peaches and eat olives from the olive bar as if from their own kitchen table. Why can't I do this? I would surely be taken down and asked never to return. No one bats an eye at them! They know it's wrong, they probably just think they've lived long enough to have earned it. I sure do hope I live long enough to cash in on this theory. Although, I probably won't limit it to the produce section. I'll try it with gas and milk too. Whaddathey gonna do?
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Another awkward supermarket situation yesterday. It's really obvious when parents are using their kids as conversational pawns to strike something up with other people. It's also uncomfortable. There was this guy with three kids hanging all over him - no other adults. Naturally, I steered my cart away as far as I could as I passed by. Then I hear him 'talking' to these kids who don't even know their own name or where they are and pretending to have real conversations with them. I know the guy thought he was being funny and that I would react or comment. I didn't. I didn't laugh and then I felt sorry for him. But before it got too serious, I turned into the ice cream aisle and forgot all about it.
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Went to the movies yesterday to see Salt - surprisingly excellent with more twists than those awful Taco Bell 'desserts'. However, as my movie partner (movies are the only partnership we can commit to at this point in time :) ) and I sat chatting before it started, we were suddenly thrust into the most bizarre situation. The previews hadn't started yet - I have a strict no talking preview rule - it was just those lame general interest interviews and chitchattery (I just made this word up) that no one really watches. Or so I thought.

Directly in front of us, a woman spun around and said, "I can't help but hear your conversation." I thought she was going to join in our discussion about Lindsay Lohan and whether or not her career (what career?) is over. However, she wasn't having any of it. What follows is exactly what transpired - no exaggeration.

Crazy: You're talking and it's really annoying!
Me: Oh. Well, the movie hasn't started yet, so...
Crazy: I don't give a shit. Stop talking!
Movie Partner: Sorry, but you should just move then.
Me: We're just chatting, at a normal volume.
Crazy: I don't give a f**k - shut the f**k up.
Me: Wha----?
Crazy: F**K YOU!
Me: Are you crazy?
Movie Partner: You should just move, we're not going to stop talking until the movie starts.
Crazy: F**k you. Stupid Canadian men. Stupid Canadian men.

Then she turned around and left us with mouths agape trying to see if anyone else heard this. She was a little, refined looking lady. I guess. Then of course, although we had exhausted our Lindsay Lohan topics, we continued to talk. Yes, out of spite. But, seriously. Come on lady. This is why you should wait until you can rent it on DVD in the privacy of your little cave hovel. By yourself.

The rest of the movie we kept coming up with immature things to do to her - none of which we did of course, but when someone is so utterly insane, it's hard not to stoop to their level. Or at least think about it.

Major WTF moment.

It's a-me, Mah-rio.

Italian party on the weekend - in honour of my favourite Italian. Since I don't own any red clothing, I went with the whole double belt, double bracelet and double glow stick look. Subtle - which actually doesn't really go with the theme, in hindsight.

Best costume/worst mustache:
Who knew glow sticks could be so much fun? As I handed them out/insisted people wear them (a bit of an Electric Circus theme too), this one farm boy didn't know what they were and had never worn one. How is that possible?! I bet he's never done ecstasy or worn Spandex either. Hayseed.

Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh-llelujiah!

After many months of passionate and unrelenting garage sale hunting for the wicker loveseat - my white whale - I finally gave up. Sigh. I had to buy it new - it was sort of on sale, but I just couldn't take it anymore. I hate the cushion pattern, but one step at a time.

Now, of course, the two small chairs that I bought a garage sales for $1 and $0 look ridiculously beat up and puny. Plus, one was grey and I had to use 4 cans of spray paint to make it look that dirty. But it makes me happy to see it up there on my porch and even happier to enjoy my Golden Grahams from the wicker perch.

See, good things come to those who...give up.

Where do people come up with this?

Couldn't you just as easily fill the pot only halfway?

Gimme an (ankle) break.

I enjoy shoes. A lot. And I spent most of my twenties wearing the most ridiculous, high, foolish shoes available. All in the name of style. And attention, really. But, even I balk at these preposterous shoes:

Seriously, these do not belong in suburban stores for idiot girls to aspire to - they belong on runway models and drag queens in NYC. Only. Who would buy these for any purpose other than displaying them on a mantle? I can appreciate an outrageously fabulous way to dress up the below-ankle regions, but I'm rolling my eyes. Plus, they didn't fit.

There's a new man in my life...

He's a little quiet, but has the chin of a god.

Randomness

Is it just me, or is "Faithfully Yours" a very unusual way to sign off a business email? From someone I have never met. Does he have faith that I will utilize his services? Faith that I won't report him to the Creepy Email Tribunal (CET)?
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It seems to be my M.O. to latch onto clothing trends just as they are going out of style. Most of the clothes I wear I have had for several years - I like to think this is because I have classic style and will be eternally well-dressed. No need for discussion on this point - I'm sticking with that theory.

However, I sometimes feel that I should succumb to some of the trends flying around out there. This is why I finally have a pair of Lulu Lemon pants and most recently a pair of leggings. This was a hard one to wrap my head around. Leggings! Seriously? And my timing couldn't be worse - it now looks like an act of solidarity for Lindsay Lohan as she begins her jail stint. These leggings are a social comment. I have yet to wear them because I'm not really sure how - do they really stand in for pants? This can't be a good idea.
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How adorable is this? I've always been a big fan of the hot water bottle when ill. Or sad. Or cold. They're great - how can you not love them? This one loves you back! I really should have bought it, but thought having a collection of 3 hot water bottles may look like a boyfriend substitute - I'm not at that point yet!

Oh, come ON, man!

You have children! Soaking up this example. I'm pretty sure you have a tattoo on your back that says "FU". And if those shorts slide down even one more inch, I will drive my car into a pole. What is the matter with you?

Here I come...

Weekend-ness

It was a busy weekend full of nothing planned, but lots of options. Love weekends like this - where I can see where the wind blows. This weekend my uber-organized and unrelenting anal-retentive self got ahold and compiled this crazy list of things to accomplish in 2 days.



I got most of it done - felt very accomplished. Friday night, finished a bottle of Gewurtzaminer - the most fun sounding wine - and ended up spray painting my garage sale wicker at 1am. The list was demanding - I had to take any opportunity to get things done. Plus, I was a little "tipsy" and thought it would be a fine idea.


Saturday I fell off my bike in the park when I was startled by a pack of wild pre-teens. Embarrassing, but this didn't stop me from making them feel like it was their fault. And glaring.
Then, my sunglasses (the ones previously in the toilet) fell and broke. In the same 2 minute span the kickstand of my bike punctured my toe and caused blood to flow. It was all too much - I might have teared up. It wasn't a good time to be in public. Or be near my bike.


Saw this on PostSecret and although, I didn't submit it (really, I DIDN'T!) I totally could have. It's all true. But I also do this while wearing a scuba mask. Love, love, love swimming. Lalalala!

DIY Disaster

This is how bad I am at upholstery.

Before:

After:

Originally, I had planned to do it perfectly, but then I couldn't remove the old cushion and the fabric was like one of those birthday party games where the gift is wrapped 15 times. So many fabrics. All various degrees of hideous. So, I got frustrated and just threw new foam and new fabric on top - so it's still way lopsided and it's not so much upholstered as it is clumsily stapled. I love the fabric though. DIY sucks. DISE (do it, someone else) is the way to go.

Food for Thought

Just when I thought I knew all there was to know about donuts, they've gone and knocked my socks off. Imagine an apple fritter filled with Boston/Venetian cream and covered in cinnamon/sugar toasted coconut. Now, stop imagining because it exists! This is a donut that cannot be consumed on a regular basis. I almost needed a fork and knife to eat it - it is truly a meal in itself. I think it's called the Venetian Cream and it is worth a try (if you can find it - I hear only select Tim Horton's make them), but book off the afternoon because it will take you a while to finish it.

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The other day while eating tempura I had the most wonderful idea: bacon tempura! That kicks squash and zucchini out of the water! Why aren't people doing this? Well, besides genius chefs. What else can we tempura? Olives? Cheese? Or is that just like a mozzarella stick? Billot logs? Someone really should get on this. Please.

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Ok, I can't hide this anymore. I've been trying to deny it, but I'm tired of living a lie. I don't like Thai food. Not much at all. Sure, it seems pretty basic and everyone loves Thai and it's just rice and vegetables. But I just don't like it. I have been pretending for a while saying, "I've had a lot lately and so I'm sick of it, so let's go somewhere else" but I'm never excited to go. Sure, I'll go, but meh. I don't like mango, Thai basil or tofu and when you take that away, there's not much to it. Ok, I do like baby corn and vermicelli, but what-EVER. Whew, that feels good to get off my chest.

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This does not look like the pantry of a grown-up. No, this looks like an 8 year old's breakfast fantasy. Never having been allowed sugar cereals as a child, I have gone a little crazy now that I live on my own.

Note the poor, lonely box of untouched granola. Oh, Winnie.

Randomness

The sushi monster is rearing its delicious head once again. After not having it for a couple months, I've already had it three times this week. And, how I've missed you, dear spicy salmon roll. The only worrisome item is that, while I type this, I am eating leftover sushi from last night - around 7pm. It is now 1pm the next day. Am I playing with fire? It's still pretty good and doesn't smell off or anything. Now it's the waiting game. I still say it will be worth it.
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Why do some people consider it acceptable behaviour to show up to a date 35 minutes late? This isn't even okay in regular life, but on a date (a first date no less) it is despicable. Why I waited around, I'll never know. Oh yes, I do: cute dress.

Adding to it, I had already been there for 30 minutes because I was afraid of not recognizing the person and it's always better to be there first (Rule #6). So, 65 minutes and 3 vodka lemonades in, the candidate arrives. Now, if this were a friend (or soon to be ex-friend) I would be fuming, demand explanations and generally freak out. But, noooooo, I'm on a date! Oooohh. So, I obviously had to conceal my true self - such is dating anyway - and pretend that I didn't mind and that I actually enjoyed baking on the patio alone while World Cup revelers began getting unruly in my general direction and while the waitress pitied me.

Excellence all around.
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Saw Knight & Day last night and Cruise performs well as the confident secret agent with a dry sense of humour. It's really what he does best. I find every time I see movies like this - with high speed car chases, international mystery and intrigue and suspenseful alleyway skulking - I tend to pretend I am living in the movie once I leave the theatre.

I was driving like I was being chased, pretending my 2004 cell phone was a "This message will self-destruct in 1 minute" type of device and I pretended that my house was in fact a 'safe house' where I would receive further instructions. It's all very silly, but very fun.

Don't tell anyone. Or, I'll have to kill you.
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In case you were wondering, the juice from a summer fruit crostata looks like blood when it drips onto your sexy 1970s linoleum. Delish.

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Went to see Swell Season in Toronto the other night. Oh? You haven't heard of them either? Well, they're from Ireland, have apparently won an Oscar and look like this when they are fake walking down a cobblestone street:I didn't really fit in the crowd because I wasn't wearing brown or beige and wasn't carrying a shoulder messenger bag. But, they were actually pretty good (see Tracy? I did enjoy them!), but here are the two things that (almost) spoiled the night:

1) Massive traffic shutdown on the way home. An accident closed all the lanes way past my bedtime and I got a little cranky.
But then, it actually turned out to be pretty fun as everyone got out of their cars, shared food (well the guy next to us didn't offer me a marshmallow, but I survived), skateboarded and hung around. It was like that scene from Deep Impact - except less panic and worldwide impending destruction. Some, but considerably less.

Tracy thought it would be funny for me to ask out guys in neighbouring cars as we inched by them. Luckily, the traffic started moving or I would have been going out with Fisherman Bill in the boat of a car next to us. This is us trying to get a picture of him - but instead he's a ghost and I'm a weirdo. 2) I dropped my sunglasses in the toilet.

Tupperwhaaa-??

First the saving of the Saran Wrap, and now the Tupperware party - the gradual transformation into my mother is gaining speed. I'm sure I can expect to say "tipsy" instead of "drunk" and make the best cherry cheesecake any day now.

I got dragged to this Tupperware party because I couldn't make up plans on a random Wednesday night fast enough. But I was secretly excited -I love Tupperware. My favourite garage sale finds are always the retro containers and have never had the opportunity to buy new pieces. Thought it might be a novel idea to use plastic that hasn't been used by another family for 30 years.

Our Tupperware host lady was named Michelle and she started the evening asking us to go around the circle and tell our names and favourite piece of Tupperware. Felt like AA or Catholic confession especially when we had to state how long it had been since our last Tupperware party.

Because it was my first party, I got a free orange peeler thing. Remember these?

I said my favourite piece was the shallow round pie transporter favoured by my grandmother. I saw her eyes narrow a bit when I mentioned I found it at a garage sale. Michelle has been a consultant for 9 years and she was good at the hard sell. Before I knew it, I had a wish list compiled.

Then came the part where she tried to recruit us into hosting parties and being consultants. I tuned out and tried to subtly move toward the kielbasa and cheese. I was mildly intrigued by her tales of company cars, lavish vacations to something called the Pink Palace, IPADs, and the money she makes. But then I remembered I would have to sell Tupperware to get that.

When she asked what would be a hindrance to this line of work, I said, "A fear of sales," which is completely true. I was a terrible Girl Guide when it came to selling cookies (but great at eating them), my own parents wouldn't buy magazine subscriptions during elementary school and was once demoted from sales to greeter at a national telecommunications chain.

All the sale tactics from Michelle included the phrase "Eligible to purchase". As in: "If you spend $85 or more, you are then eligible to purchase this piece at $25." That's not a prize if you still have to pay for it, Michelle.

At the end of the party where I was planning on spending no money, I managed to drop $88 on two pieces. Or maybe they're sets - I really hope there's more than 2 pieces. Sure, they last for life, blah, blah, blah. Just realized I spent more on this Tupperware than on my dining room table.

1. FridgeSmart - everyone in the circle raved about these and apparently they will make bad food good again. Limp celery to crispy celery! Keep peppers for weeks! Handy guide on the side! I was dazzled and sucked right in. I guess I have to buy some vegetables now.

2. FreezerMates - nothing too flashy about these but great for .... I don't know, holding stuff. Basically, I enjoyed the colour name "Purplicious" so I got them.
At the end, there was a draw and an opportunity to take home a piece of free Tupperware. But there was a risk - that Michelle is cunning! You either get to just take the free prize or there is a prize and a party (which she tried to convince us is a good thing).

I figured I could just open it and if there was a party, just say I was going to host a party, but then not actually do it. No biggie. Turns out Michelle was pretty strict about it and if I got a party, I actually had to host one. In the next 21 days. I like Tupperware as much as the next very cool twenty-something, but I don't need that kind of pressure.

So, after 15 minutes of deliberation, I gave up the free Tupperware in case I had to host a party. It was the right decision as Michelle made everyone huddle and book their parties right then and there. I busied myself with more kielbasa instead.

My Tupperware arrives in 2 weeks and I expect it to last my entire life. My ENTIRE life. As we left, we had to fill out a questionnaire and I regret (or do I?) to say that I fake-numbered the Tupperware Lady. The same fake number I give out to creepers at the club. Thanks Michelle, but we're done here.

Something else I regret - I was flipping through the catalogue and saw a shiny, smiling soccer mom wearing an identical shirt to one that I have hanging in my closet. Sigh.

Feeling the Magic

Favourite Song of the Week. Magic by B.O.B. ft. River Cuomo. Should I know who that is?

Can't get enough. Blasted it today in the office and then had awkward moment when boss came back unexpected. Try not to move your feet.

I can't find the real video - this seems to only be a repeat, which is annoying. I would play it, but not watch it.

Why, hello there.

How has a week passed already?? Sigh. This summer is speeding by too quickly and I only just yesterday got into my parents' pool. It was heavenly, though.

Ok, this is what's been going on with me:

- choosing the year's hottest month to do a lot of baking for some reason. Oh, right, the reason is my sweet tooth and insatiable appetite for sweeter compliments. However, I am not fully set up in my kitchen and thus have had to use an empty wine bottle as a rolling pin for my pies. It's not ideal, but works surprisingly well...and there's always lots of empties around.

- I have come to accept the fact that I am slowly turning into my parents. Exhibit A: I save Saran Wrap. And plastic sandwich bags. I never thought this would happen, but it's true.

- went shopping south of the border on Friday and once again managed to purchase some shirts that turned out to be from the store's maternity line. But they were cheap! And cute! And will be helpful when I eat a big meal! Oh, shut up.

- first club experience in Mississauga and hopefully my last. There is something very wrong about going to a club in a strip mall. So depressing. The music was okay where we ended up, but I couldn't shake the feeling of oppressive suburbia. Oh, and why is it okay (albeit a little creepy) for guys to stand against the wall and check things out at a club, but when a girl is a little tired and wants to rest and people watch for a few minutes, she's a target?!? Target for creepers sidling up to hit on her. Ugh.

Oh, and for the record, Random Rapper, "I be hustling" repeated ad nauseum does not a great song make. Don't let the gyrating skankies and collar popping DBs (are people still doing that?!?) convince you otherwise.

- Is there anything better than riding a bike in your bathing suit? It felt like high school again yesterday as I rode my bike, post-swim, to my friend Tracy's house. We ate ice cream and gossiped on the porch, just like we used to do in 10th grade. Our problems and conversations are different now, but, really, not that different. Eating freezies, lighting fireworks on the playground, talking about who we like - it's all good. Still.

- What is the correct/acceptable number of perogies that a single person should consume in one meal? I just need to know....

- Evil Cat is gone. I find myself a little sad about that and worrisome that it met its untimely death. But, I'll deny these feelings.