31 Oct 2005

Because We Suck

This whole Halloween thing completely snuck up on me. New job has my brain preoccupied in new, horrible ways so when my friends called me Saturday to see if I was coming out with them for dress-up goodness, I was blindsided by the nearness of Oct 31 and that whole concept of "fun."

Because I just can't pass-up an opportunity that has grown-ups using their imaginations and a willingness to look silly or funny or horrible (and slutty! So many girls do slutty!) in public on purpose - I ran around my place as quickly as possible and pulled an outfit together so I could join in.

Something to know about me: I love the whole 50s housewife culture. I find it fascinating. And sometimes, I find it fun to bid on on eBay. So, because of said fetish, I was able to become a 50s housewife lickity-split. Anyway, I met up with Siobhan, Jaimie and Tina and we drank lots of lychee martinis and champaign and went to Rec Room where we met Nils and Anissa. Pics will follow.

Today I was blindsided again by Halloween as it is actually today and I'm reminded that Halloween isn't just about dressing up as a sexy kitty or "Hunter S. Thompson After Having Been Blown Out Of A Canon" and getting trashed. There are a bunch of cute little kidlets out around neighbourhood begging for goodies. And guess which house is going to get egged? That's right, our grumpy-ass home which is candy-less and has its porch light off because we never even thought to care. We suck badly.

Maybe if I pretend this wine that I'm drinking is blood, the Great Pumpkin won't wield its ugly wrath our way.


27 Oct 2005

Was It Just Me, Or ...

... did Miss J look a bit like Oprah on a bad day in last night's episode of America's Next Top Model?


26 Oct 2005

Blast From the Past

I think someone in my new office wears Exclamation! perfume.

I was in the hallway, got a faintly familiar whiff of something and was transported to grade 7. Memories of listening to Bel Biv DeVoe on my Walkman while my friend shoplifted lipstick from the Shoppers Drug Mart just completely came flooding back.

I didn't even know that they made this stuff anymore.


25 Oct 2005

It Should Be Noted

It being Tuesday, I meant to also post that I am the exact same weight (11 lbs down, seems like forever) as I was the last time I officially weighed myself. I am pleased with this because I haven't really been tracking as a I should.

Man, I really SHOULD kick this more into gear, seeing as Christmas is only two short months away and I kinda envisioned myself looking all foxy by then. Ok. Must get stern. After this glass of wine.


Uno Dayo Jobo

So, Day 1 of my new job was yesterday. It was a swirl of new faces, new acronyms and various looks of pity upon seeing my confused-but-trying-to-look-enthused face. I wish I could fast-forward this next month and get over the disorientation and just work. Alas, this too is part of that steep learning curve I knew I was getting myself into.

Good news: I have an office.
Bad news: It has no natural light and is absent of everything but a desk and a computer - nothing on the walls, nothing in the room. And the paint colour makes it look like a band-aid.
Good news: It has potential. I do believe I'll bring in my Orlando Bloom calendar and Tiger Beat the place up a bit.

See, I turned that around into a positive. Yay me.


24 Oct 2005

Oh Jebus

This is too early for me. (I woke up about 25 minutes ago). This week will be all about finding the proper timing needed to get up, shower, change, piss around on the internet and most importantly - take the demon transit system - to get to work on time.

I have a feeling I'll be returning to coffee.


21 Oct 2005

Goodbye, Sweet Gays

Today was my last day at Job circa July 22, 2002 to Right This Second.

Before I continue, I should explain something about my workplace: it’s gay. No, not in that derogatory sense that kinda describes all workplaces, but actually homosexual. To say my company is homosexual makes it sound like my office is attracted to other offices and walks around particular parks looking at the crotches of other companies in the hopes of a late-night rendezvous. What I mean to say, is that my workplace’s mission statement is specifically about fostering the gay and lesbian community and being about as sex-positive as an organization can get. Of the forty-five people that I worked with, I was one of only three people that was prude enough to consider herself straight.

My job was doing marketing, community outreach, organizing sponsorships, doing events and activities like our Pride float and as a side thing, I also did social aspects for the office (like peoples’ birthdays and the holiday party). I was a busy girl who interacted with a lot of people.

I explain all this now because the rest of these points will probably have deeply confused you if I hadn’t.

So, I present to you – An Ode To My Workplace ...

Things I Will Miss About Work:

  • Being in a board meeting and hearing the words “cock”, “cunt”, “dyke”, “faggot” and “ass-pounding” being (positively) used without anyone batting an eye
  • My most marvelous ‘big boss’ (my supervisor’s boss) who was simply the best manager I have ever worked with and was the kind of person that you want to emulate one day
  • All the great ‘truetone’ cellphone rings everyone had that ranged from “Lucky Star” to “Hollaback Girl” to “Toxic”
  • Our incredibly, incredibly drunken and fun parties
  • Being there when my coworkers won the right to get married (and then watched them scoff at the idea of them personally settling down. In the words of one of my coworkers, “Get married? Hellll, no! There is just too much fine ass out there just waiting for me to discover it.”)
  • 90% of my co-workers. What bright, funny, passionate, wonderful people they are.
  • Neffer, a baby chihuahua that belonged to one of my coworkers, who would be brought in every week to completely distract everyone from doing their jobs
  • Having meetings with people named Sofonda Cox and The Mistress of Pain
  • The fact that I had the bizarre power to announce to the entire staff that in the afternoon, everyone will stop working and come to the kitchen to enjoy a cocktail in celebration of it being “kinda fall-ish” - and it would happen! Really
  • Being the “office pet” on account of my breeder ways and nice rack
  • Being trusted with so much of their company. They really let me expand and learn and grow and become so much better than I was three years ago

Things I Will Not Miss About Work:

  • The never-ending meetings that would often result in never-ending nothing (that's everywhere though, right?)
  • The hardcore lesbian porn that wallpapered the women’s washroom
  • Dealing with certain obnoxious, arty drama-queens from the community who had no clue and no desire to know how a business transaction was supposed to work
  • Having a legitimate reason to Google “skatting” (and to have Google come back with “did you mean skating?” Oh, Google, you are so naïve. Promise me you’ll always stay that way).
  • Being constantly asked for change by all the homeless people (and “home less teens”) each and every day who practically lived at my office doorstep
  • Trying to pull off events on a not-for-profit budget
  • The not-for-profit pay I got
  • The clogging of “my” neighbourhood by gaggles of tourists during Pride
  • Hearing Cher’s “Believe” at least once a week
  • The guy that came to our lobby and acted as if he had a gun and the two bomb threats we received on account of my company being the kind of place it was
  • All the bloody rainbows
  • That time that we lifted up the couch to move it somewhere else, and an empty bottle of lube and a broken broom handle fell out from the cushions
  • Dancing to bad, bad club music in the middle of the day down Yonge Street in a gross costume, next to an embarrassing float (this float is quite the story that I will someday tell) in front of roughly a million people - while stone-cold sober.

And so, I have left for what I hope to be bigger and better things. Oh, don’t cry for me, Gaygentina. We will see each other again.


19 Oct 2005

Sometimes, I Feel Really Bad For Boys

"So, I prefer not to have a serious boyfriend and he prefers not to have a serious girlfriend, right? Well, I always seem to have a serious boyfriend around my birthday, and my birthday is next month. So, we're getting serious whether he wants it or not because I don't want to curse myself."

- As overheard while riding on the subway in Toronto


18 Oct 2005

In Keeping With The That Masochist Theme …

I sent an e-mail out to my coworkers along with people that I work with outside the office, and in a truly dumb move, said in that e-mail "if there was anything you were hoping to have me look into for you, please let me know now because I won't be around after Friday"

I have roughly 30 new e-mails containing new requests for me to do. Between now and Friday.

I knew that this week was going to be a bit busy, as I need to organize things and create records of all those everyday things you don't even think about because you've been around long enough to just do it (swooosh), but I didn't really expect to take on a silly amount of new projects.

The thing is, I can actually complete these requests, for the most part, by Friday - but I'm not totally sure if I want to spend my last week putting the pedal to the metal (which is a really "tough guy" way of describing what I'd really be doing - moving my mouse around for several hours). So, I'm left with a conundrum: do I spend this last week kicking ass and making life very sweet and easy for my former employer (but elevating my stress level far more than I'd like), or do I pull the classic I'm-going-to-do-what-I-want-to-do-because-it's-not-like-you're-going-to-fire-me attitude that one gets to have only a few times in their life.

Le sigh, indeed.

Oh – and I totally forgot that today was a weigh-in day much like how I forgot how I was going to try to stick to my eating plan this entire week. Oops.


16 Oct 2005

Heavy Lifting For Heavy Hearts

I’ve got the day to myself today because Patrick is off helping Barry and Ester move (I am a girl and therefore useless in this capacity and therefore staying at home and therefore very pleased today with the stereotypes and assumptions made about those who have vaginas).

B&E are leaving their posh condo to live in the basement of Ester’s mother’s house. I understand that there is economic benefit to that, and that Ester’s mom is a nice lady, but I suspect that this decision boils down to one thing: masochism.

I long suspected that these two were into being punished. You pretty much must be if you’re to put up with Patrick for as long as they have. Anyone who knows Patrick knows that once he gets talking about his favourite subject, boring-ass Ontario and Toronto politics, you pretty much want to shoot yourself in the ears. And yet, they continue to subject themselves to him on a weekly basis. Masochists!

(Aww, Patrick, I kid, I kid! After all, it’s wrong to make fun of you.*)

Moving into Chez Ester’s Momma’s sealed the deal, though. They must have envisioned scenarios of Ester’s mom unexpectedly popping in to offer the Korean-version of Tang and Rice Krispies at the most inopportune moments. Just think of it, Barry. You could be sitting down there, completely unaware, vulnerable and singing along to the theme song from The Princess Bride and just when a single tear rolls down your cheek, you’ll see her from the corner of your eye: Stopped dead in her tracks, a look of disgust paralyzing her face as the bowls of kimchi she brought for you fall to the floor.

Momma Will Be Witness To All Your Private Horribleness And Humiliation, And You Will Have To Face Her Everyday. And despite you and Ester understanding this, you choose to do it. Masochists!

Aw, well. Good luck, kids! Enjoy the move, suckas.

* 1950’s Housewife Tip #2: A man should always be respected. If you disagree with something he does or if one of his habits irritates you, it is your job as his wife to bury your negative thoughts away and assimilate to his way of doing things. Remember – he’s the head of the household – and that includes the thinking part. Belittling a man with criticism or mockery is not only unladylike, but a disgusting display of disrespect. Now, get back in the kitchen and bake him a pie, bitch.


13 Oct 2005


So, I got a new job. Most people know it already, but I wanted to wait until there was an official announcement at my current workplace before I blabbed it here. I accepted the new position about a week ago and gave my resignation then, but the way things operate at my current place means that there’s always some kind of delay in letting people know and getting things done - just as it always has been for pretty much everything.

It’s so weird leaving a place because people start saying such nice things about you, to the point that it kinda makes you sad to leave. I had it good where I work. Naturally, there were times I wanted to throttle people, times that I wanted to burn my desk and drop-kick my computer, times when I whined about needing to win the lottery and times that I was sick to my stomach with the insanity of it all. But today is one of those times that I’ll only think good things of the place.

The ‘big boss’ (the Publisher & Ed-in-Chief), whom I've always loved working for, wrote a really, really nice e-mail to all the staff letting them know that I’m leaving. It was all glowy and sweet and considerate and made me sound like the heart and brains of the place. Then he took me out to lunch and we chatted about my new position, what I think the future of the department should look like, and had all sorts of laughs about the craziness I’ve been witness (and accomplice) to while working there for the past three years. To top it all off, he announced that it was high time that the company have a big party, and he’d like to throw one in my honour. How can you beat that? It almost makes me want to come back just so I can quit all over again.

But besides the little tinglings of sad that I’m feeling, I’m also terribly excited about the new job. It’s working as an Account Executive at a full-service marketing/advertising agency on what should be a challenging and interesting international client.

Along with more cash (duh), this new position is going to give me something I’ve really needed lately – a change of pace and a bit of good excitement. There are things that I’ll get to work on that I already enjoy doing at my current place, but a whole whack of stuff that will be new to me, which is great. I’m already having trouble sleeping at night because my brain refuses to stop thinking about it all, a clear symptom of Keener-itis.

I’ll post more about this stuff soon. Till then I’ll be rather busy with work, wrapping up all sorts of projects that we didn’t intend on finishing until closer to the end of the year (my goodbye gift to them, I suppose). My last day there will be next Friday. First day on the new job will be next Monday. Yowza!


12 Oct 2005

Getting To Know You

One of these e-mail quizzes that end up taking an enormous amount of time...

1. First Name: Jen (but never Jenn)
2. Were you named after anyone? Jennifer is not a family name, it’s a 70s name.
3. Do you wish on stars? If I said yes, I’m pretty sure that would make me a Disney character.
4. When did you last cry? I got all weepy the other day when I heard a particular Cat Stevens song ... maybe I was hormonal? DON’T LOOK AT ME!!
5. Do you like your handwriting? Indeed I do, although since becoming completely dependent on the computer, I find I hand-cramp a lot sooner now when I handwrite, and that detracts from how much I like it.
6. What is your favourite lunch meat? Roast Beast.
7. What is your birth date? September 23.
8. What is your most embarrassing CD? Just one? I think I’ll go with Aquarium by Aqua. I think I got it because I thought I could work out to it. Sad.
9. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you? Well, I’d certainly want to be, but it depends on how great I was as the other person if I were to accept that person as my friend. You follow?
10. Are you a daredevil? Hah. So. Not. I refuse to run down the stairs more than one step at a time (really – that’s friggin’ dangerous).
11. Who is your favourite cartoon character? Old School: Original Spiderman (he had such cool music), New School: Andy French from Mission Hill.
12. Do looks matter? Only an ugly person would ask that.
13. How do you release anger? A few rounds with the punching bag, man. Ha - kidding. I bitch, like any sane person does.
14. Where is your second home? Alberta, baby.
15. Do you trust others easily? I guess I’d like to but it takes a bit of time before I tell a stranger over the phone my bank account PIN number.
16. What was your favourite toy as a child? A little bear named Bobby. Funny, I thought about him the other night and actually felt bad because I had no idea where he was (somewhere in my parents home, but probably all alone in some tuberware bin, crying and singing that incredibly sad song Sarah McLaughlin did in Toy Story 2). Oh man … DON’T LOOK AT ME!!
17. What class in high school do you think was totally useless? For me, personally: Advanced Math. To the world in general: French (Hee!).
18. Do you have a journal? You’re looking at it.
19. Do you use sarcasm a lot? The easy answer would be a sarcastic one, but everyone expects that. Yes. I’m sarcastic, a lot.
20. What are your nicknames? Muffin, Jennimuff, J-Lo (eck), Slutbucket.
21. Would you bungee jump? Did you see the comment about the stairs? No!
22. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? My shoes rarely have laces, so no.
23. Do you think that you are strong? Physically or emotionally? My physical strength is truly laughable. Being asked to carry something or having to run for a bus are two of my greater fears. Emotionally … I don’t get it. Is it asking me if my emotions are strong or my ability to control them?
24. What is your favourite ice cream flavour? I don’t discriminate, I love all ice cream equally – well, except that bubblegum crap or “Tiger Stripe” (orange with black liquorice flavour – that’s disgusting and should be shot).
25. Shoe Size? I’ll range anywhere between a 7.5 to an 8.5.
26. Red or pink? Pink. I’m such fucking a girl.
27. What is your least favourite thing about yourself? I could always use some more cash.
28. Who do you miss most? My family, as a whole (all are in Western Canada).
29. What personality traits do you dislike in other people? Smugness, chronic-complainers/whiners, total bullshitters that think you're stupid enough to buy it.
30. What colour pants and shoes are you wearing? Pants are camel (without the toe), shoes are tan.
31. What are you listening to right now? Nothing really – I guess the hum of the computer
32. Last thing you ate? Popcorn (last night)
33. If you were a color what would you be? I am a colour. It’s beige.
34. What is the weather like right now? Overcast, will probably rain later.
35. Last person you talked to on the phone? Probably Patrick. He called me for no real good reason, as usual, just to say hi. He’s so wasteful.
36. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Depends entirely on who they are and what freakish features they have.
37. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Sure.
38. Favourite Drink? Red wine, because I’m such a pretentious prick.
39. Favourite Sport? Tennis! (again, because I’m a prick)
40. Hair Color? Dark brown.
41. Eye Color? Deep brown.
42. Do you wear contacts? Nope.
43. Favourite Food? Sushi (especially Dynamite Rolls) – this answer also lends to my being a pretentious prick.
44. Last Movie You Watched? I wish I had a cool answer but I really don’t: Monster-In-Law. Poor Patrick rented it for me. I suck. I know.
45. Favourite Day of the Year? Probably Christmas. Not being religious means that I don’t have church dragging it down.
46. Scary Movies or Happy Endings? I guess happy endings, but I prefer the type that aren’t 100% clichés and that rules out about 90% of them.
47. Summer or Winter? NO – Fall.
48. Hugs or Kisses? Again, depends entirely on who’s offering.
49. What Is Your Favourite Dessert? Oooh – so many! Chocolate cake, pecan tarts, Saskatoonberry pie, maple syrup straight from the jug … dare I go on?
50. Favourite Movie? Some Like It Hot, followed closely by Gidget.
51. What Song Was Recently In Your Head? Judy Blue Eyes by Crosby, Stills & Nash.
52. Living Arrangements? Living in sin in a rented 2-bdrm apartment.
53. What Book Are You Reading? The New Brand World. It’s a marketing book and again, lends to the pretentious prick theme I have going for myself.
54. What's On Your Mouse Pad? Gross. It’s a Dell (mouse pad), dude.
55. What Did You Watch Last Night on TV? The Biggest Loser (you are what you watch?)
56. Favourite Smells? My Chanel No 5 perfume, cloves, the smell of fall, candles on a birthday cake being blown out
57. Favourite Flower? Flowers are all lovely.
58. Rolling Stones or Beatles? Beatles!
59. Do you believe in Evolution or Creation? Evolution – as to what started evolution, I have no idea. The Beatles? (No, that was Revolution …)
60. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first? Breakfast.


11 Oct 2005

If You Own A Company That Sells Things, Please Read My Post

First things first, my weekly, uncool weigh-in: By some gracious Thanksgiving Miracle, I am down 1.6 lbs. I’m now essentially down to where I was a couple weeks ago (11 lbs gone). Completely undeserved, but I’ll take it. I now need to really keep on things if I’m to meet my goals.

In other news (and the part that relates to today's post's title), because it’s budget season at work, I’ve been contacting all sorts of people looking for quotes on all sorts of products and services. It is stunning how horrible some people are at sales, to the point that I’m embarrassed for their companies. I am not a salesperson, yet I’d like to think that if I were, I would know to:

  • Use real, complete sentences and not fill an entire paragraph with ellipses and hope that they fill the void that verbs and nouns usually take up
  • Spell simple words correctly (I shit you not, in one quote, the rep wrote “I estamate one weak until delivery”)
  • Not to send back a useless, info-less e-mail response to my original e-mail that asks me to call them (Dude, I’m e-mailing you for a reason. Respect my chosen communication method. I don’t want to bloody chit-chat)
  • Answer questions that get asked (wow!), especially when they’re really obvious and numbered and bolded in an attempt to draw attention to their importance
  • Refrain from sending a canned response that has nothing to do with what was being asked. There’s no way that this company or industry is so busy that it can’t customize their e-mails. Or, you know, read them.
  • Remember the person’s name, especially seeing as it’s in the e-mail address (although I can totally see how someone would confuse ‘Jen’ with ‘Mandy’, as happened in my case)
  • Avoid pretending to be the client’s best friend / sorority sister / 12-yr old daughter by using fake, overly excited language and punctuation marks (“Hi Jen!!!! Thanks so much for your request!!!! This is going to be such a fantastic investment for you, I just know it!!!! LOL!!!”)
Naturally, I don’t write back to these people and correct them of their sales atrocities because that would be bitchy (as if blogging about them isn’t). I just don’t give them any of my company’s money. Haha.


9 Oct 2005

Funny But True Stories From The Past #1

I told this story to some people the other night so it's all fresh in my brain and ripe for making it even more public. So here I go:

Back in 1995, a friend of mine was working through a student co-op program in her MP's (Member of Parliament) office. Basically, she had to answer phone calls from the constituents who wanted to bitch about the government. As you can imagine, she got a lot of calls from old people, angry people and the kind of people that believe that anything that interests them, from health care to the temperature of McDonald's apple pies, is a "right."

Anyway, in 1995 Canada was hopping with debate on account of the Quebec Referendum. For those that can't quite remember, the Quebec Referendum was a public vote in the predominantly French-speaking province of Quebec that asked the people if they wanted to move toward a process that would allow them to be separate and sovereign from Canada. The most memorable thing about it was immediately after the votes came in, the leader of Quebec and the separatist movement, Jacques Parizeau, got all drunk and blamed immigrants and ethnic people for the loss, on live television. This was right on par with Canadian politics because getting wasted and making crazy statements is a favourite among the leaders of our provinces.

So that's the background. During the time leading up to the vote a very angry (and probably old) man called the MP office where my friend worked and started blasting her about how ungrateful and horrible Quebec is for even considering leaving Canada. The man continued on and on and on to the poor 16-year old volunteer (who was working for an MP in ALBERTA, not Quebec) about what wretched people these separatists were until he was pretty much spent.

"You know what," he finally sputtered, "it comes down to just one thing."

"And that is?" my friend asked.

"If English was good enough for Jesus Christ, it's good enough for them bastards," and he promptly hung up the phone.

And that, my friends, is the logic of a politically-interested voter. If anything should encourage you to lose the apathy when it comes to voting and politics, it’s the knowledge that this guy and a handful of his friends are more than willing to make the decision for you.


A Lapse

It’s been a few days since I last blogged (sorry), although it hasn’t been for lack of interest but largely lack of time. I also have something a bit big going on (good big!) that I need to hold off on posting about for the moment and that certain something is part of the reason why I’m so busy right now.

Anyway, here’s a little recap of what’s been going down between Wednesday and today:

  • Celebrities seen in person: 3
  • Delicious potluck dinners had with friends from high school: 1
  • Dreams that involved Buffy characters: 3
  • Dreams that involved Rob Schneider: 0
  • Instances I realized it was too damn cold to wear open-toe shoes anymore: 3
  • Instances I didn't care because my open toes are too darn cute: 2
  • Conversations with my parents: 2
  • Times I heard don’t just think outside the box, there is no box”: 3
  • Times I wanted to start kicking nuts: 3
  • Career decisions made: 1
  • Tears shed while laughing at Jon Stewart’s performance at Massey Hall: 7
  • Lovely guests that had to endure our Futon From Hell: 2
  • Times Jim from Martha Apprentice was captured making his ‘I’m disgusted’ face: 4
  • Times Martha kicked ass by overruling the boardroom nominees: 1
  • Instances I overheard a conversation that included “It’s been a while since I took biology, but I’m pretty sure that birds get a visit from Aunt Flo too”: 1
  • Drinks had: 17 (AA anyone?)
  • Weight Watcher Points Consumed: I AM FUCKED?
All caught up?


5 Oct 2005


Yesterday when I was walking home, this little skeezy guy was taking out his trash and felt the need to cat call me.

Mmm mmmm,” he said, making exaggerated mouth smacking noises, “Looookin’ gooood. Mmmm…Yahhh,” as he eyed me up and down very obviously.

*Insert yacking barf noise here.*

For the record, I was not “lookin’ good.” I was carrying heavy bags of Diet Pepsi for the addict at home, feeling very sweaty and pissy from my walk and was trying to push myself through the thigh burn. It was the end of a humid day, a day that involved me spilling some of my Lean Cuisine pizza on my top and cleaning some miscellaneous dirt from under my fingernails with a thumbtack. I was not a heavenly vision and really just wanted to get home, unnoticed and unoggled. His comments, while supposedly positive, only made me feel more gross and annoyed.

Even worse, the remarks were coming from a man that looked to be my height (men who are my height = gross, perverted, dirty midgets) whose hands had just been making busy with GARBAGE. Ooh baby.

What is it that these men expect us to do when we they say these things to us?

Do they think we’re flattered? Do they think we’ll turn and be like “Hey, thanks! You’re not so bad yourself – wanna go for a drink sometime?” I’d bet that they actually know that it makes most of us feel weird and they get off on our repulsed reaction because, for them, at least it’s a reaction. These dudes probably get ignored by women on a regular basis and will take anything they get, even if it’s negative.

I think next time it happens I’ll stop and ask.


4 Oct 2005

We Suck

Tuesday = weigh in day. Today, my friends, I sadly report a gain in my girth. A 1.4lb gain to be exact. Yesterday I sneaked on the scale and was down .2 lbs, but not this morning. All the different techniques to step on scale (feet close together, feet far apart, feet making a ‘v’) didn’t make the weight go away.

The main culprit for this sneaky gain was probably the gourmet meal Patrick and I enjoyed late last night:

We began with an appetizer of savoury salt & vinegar chips that danced in our mouths like bold, crisp butterfly wings. Our entrée was a feast for the both the eyes and palate. Boiled to perfection, we dined on the finest hotdog weiners, nestled in fluffy white Wonderbread buns. Each hotdog was garnished with delectable Heinz products that were purchased at a charming convenience store in the neighbourhood. Always the food connoisseur, Patrick added whimsy to his meal in the form of generous amounts of mayonnaise. For dessert, we were treated to a mouth-watering handful of chocolate chips that melted in our palms with delicious excitement. The meal was complimented by a bottle of intensely rich, oaky red wine that was not only a treat for the taste buds, but also the wallet (eight bucks!). All this was enjoyed in the reclined position on our couches while watching the heroic and meaningful adventures of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD. 5 Stars.


3 Oct 2005

The TTC Has Become My Sworn Enemy

Pretend you have some place to go. Some place new. Some place that you absolutely must be at by 2pm. Pretend you rely on the Toronto Transit Commission. If you’re me, this means that you need to leave wayyy earlier than you should because, without fail, the TTC will FUCK YOU OVER.

Ways in which the transit system tried to sabotage me today:
* Had to wait for my connecting subway for about 5 minutes (average is about 1 to 2 minutes)
* The fucking subway STOPPED SERVICE and unloaded everyone at Runnymede Station. Once we all got off the subway, we had to wait about 7 minutes for a new one to come get us
* The subway did an exaggerated pause at Old Mill station. Sitting us there for 4 minutes (average is about 15 seconds)
* Got to my transfer station (Islington) and SURPRISE! I missed the bus I intended by catch by 2 minutes
* Had to wait 20 minutes for another bus
* Once the bus came, the driver went on his break. In other words, I got to stand there, looking at my watch every 2 seconds while waiting for the bus that was idling right in front of me to get a driver
* Because the subway was ‘double filled’, so was the bus. This meant that every other stop had people ‘dinging’ to get off. This = time

The end result? I reached the doors of my intended destination with 6 minutes to spare (ie: exactly on time, but god, did I ever stress out). Had I had my way with all the early-leaving, I would have got there half an hour early, but would have spent that time in the lobby preening my hair, thinking of nice things to say and calming the fuck down.

I need a car.

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I have no shame

Need words? I'm a Toronto-based freelance writer who injects great ones into blogs, websites, magazines, ads and more. So many services, one lovely Jen (with one 'n').

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