27 Nov 2005

Bad Blogger, Bad!

I admit - I suck!

I've had a few late days at work so when I get home, I can't even bear to look at my computer. Not can I think of what to blog about. Certain co-workers have provided me with lots of blog-worthy material, but as you know, I can't outright discuss it for fear of being discovered as the two-faced mega cow I am, so I hope to find a way to weave those stories into other ones someday soon.

As for my day-to-day realities, they've pretty much been the same: crazy people on the subway, a running tap in our shower that the landlord keeps forgetting to fix, not sticking to my diet, Patrick eating ice cream at strange hours of the day and night, and now - the onset of the holiday season.

I got my first dose of holiday shoppers yesterday when Patrick and I went to see Harry Potter in a theatre that is unfortunately in a mall. I love to shop. LOVE IT. But holiday shopping with holiday shoppers gets me all jaw-clenchy. Fantasies of turning my fist into a crowd-dispersing battering ram become a real temptation. It's not just the sheer masses of people (and yes, that is horrible) but the quality of individuals in those masses. They're awful!

They're screaming things into their cellphones like "LISTEN! DECIDE NOW WHAT YOU WANT TO GET YOUR BLOODY SISTER FOR CHRISTMAS AND STOP WASTING MY TIME. I'M FUCKING TIRED OF ALWAYS HAVING TO WORRY ABOUT DECIDING WHAT SHIT TO GET FOR THE FAMILY. MAYBE THIS YEAR I'LL STAY HOME AND YOU CAN DEAL WITH THIS HOLIDAY BULLSHIT! I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO HAVE SUCH A HORRIBLE, SELFISH ATTITUDE!"

They're people that have no concept of keeping their children within arms reach and yet glare at the random stranger who has unintentionally become a wall of ass that said children have run into head first.

They're people that cut you off and then walk at such slow speeds that it can't even be considered walking anymore. It's more like toddling - where a person lazily shifts their weight from one foot to the other like a pendulum that ever so slowly propels themselves forward.

I could go on, but I'll save it for another post. Unless I can do all my shopping online this season, I have a feeling there will be much more of this to come. Le sigh.

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22 Nov 2005

No More Percocet For You!

This morning Patrick got his wisdom teeth yanked out. I stayed home from work in order to flag a cab for him home, tuck him in and make him soup. At least, that was the vision.

Instead, I got him home and he popped the wonderful prescription painkiller, Percocet, and has been a spazzy, happy clam all day. To my complete annoyance.

You see, I’m still sitting here working (on my cell and using e-mail) just as much as I would if I were in the office. The difference is that I have Sir Giggles McChatty beside me.

He’s been eating melted cheese and ice cream while playing the clip from Family Guy where Brian dons a banana suit and does the ‘Peanut Butter Jelly Time’ dance/song over and over again. Furthermore, Patrick was watching a documentary on the Iraq War. I find that annoying in itself, but even more - in this film, someone sings a particular Islamic song that Patrick has noted (quite accurately, I’m afraid) sounds a lot like Rhinestone Cowboy. Rhinestone Cowboy is a song that people know the title verse to only, so when they get the song in their head – as Patrick has – all they do is repeat “Like a rhinestone cowboy .. dun dun” over and over and over again.

This is going on as I’m on the phone to the client talking about the looming deadline for a product launch.

"Peanut Butter Jelly! Peanut Butter Jelly! Peanut Butter Jelly With a Baseball Bat! Like a Rhinestone Cowboy – dun dun …. Like a rhinestone cowboy …"

Kill me now. Or at least give me one of those magical pills.

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21 Nov 2005

And The Winner Is ....

... it's a tie!

This weekend was a lovely blend of sloth and 'doing stuff' - so I'm pleased.

I managed to:
* Tidy up the place
* See my good friend Will for brunch
* Do a bunch of things for a spreadsheet for work
* Take a longish walk during the beautiful weather we had yesterday
* Pick up a couple things at Shoppers (my middle name should be "Optimumpoints")
* Wear real, non-stretchy pants the bulk of the time
* Order in
* Pay my bills

I managed to not:
* See Harry Potter (boo)
* Go to the gym
* Do real grocery shopping
* Get up early
* Look attractive
* Avoid catching bits of TBS movies (Legally Blonde, this week!)

All in all, a good weekend.

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19 Nov 2005

A Challenge

The weekend has arrived. This is always good, but as always, the weekend brings on the epic battle of my being: The Struggle of Opportunity vs Sloth.

Opportunity means:
* Sewing the buttons on my now much needed winter jacket
* Looking for a new shirt I’m interested in
* Cleaning the home
* Going to the grocery shopping
* Heading to the gym
* Seeing Harry Potter

Sloth time means:
* Avoiding all of the above except maybe the Harry Potter movie
* Letting my gut hang out and grow
* Wearing stretchy pants
* Watching whatever movie TBS decides to rerun for the millionth time
* Ordering in
* Not leaving the house, except maybe to purchase alcohol and/or candy

Which will win? Will Sloth continue its 84-week winning streak? Stay tuned to find out!

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16 Nov 2005

What Would You Do If I Sang Out Of Tune?

Because of new crazy work, a well-instilled sense of laziness and bad timing, I haven't seen one of my best friends since my birthday in September. This realization feels awful.

We've both been wrapped up in our own stuff, so no one is to blame - but it's scary how people that used to see each other every day (we were roomies for two years) can become virtual strangers. He's precious to me (not quite in the fondling a magical ring and falling into a pit of molten lava for it way, but precious all the same) and it hurts to think of our relationship fading. People talk about marriages "needing work" - in my case, it seems to be friendships.

I e-mailed him a few days ago and he got back to me tonight - we're now planning to see each other for brunch or lunch or dinner on Sunday. I'm looking forward to it. I need to make a priority to put more effort into my friends. I like my friends so crazy much - which is why I'm really confused why I put so little maintenance into them. I think it's because the lot of us are so easy going - we just figure there's no hard feelings, no need for big updates - just getting together when we can.

I'm starting to believe that just isn't enough. Quite frankly, they deserve better.

Putting more effort into going out/keeping up with friends is my New Year's Resolution, effective immediately.

Sorry for the un-funny blog entry. The next one will be dy-no-mite.

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14 Nov 2005

Ribbit

I went to la gym this evening.

I swear I'll stop talking about the gym shortly. Either because I'll get over the fact that I'm going or because I'll have stopped going altogether. Har.

Anyway, it was another gymming by bus. Again, my hellish mode of transportation rolled by just as I was getting within sprinting distance of the stop, and since running (let alone running fast) in public goes against every jiggling fibre of my body, I accepted my fate to go get physical, physical.

The problem with going to my gym after work is that it's really busy. I despise a busy gym because you can never do exactly what you want. In an ideal world, I'd go to the particular machines I wanted in the order I wanted and spend however much time I needed complete with nice little rests between sets. Ok, actually, in an ideal world, I'd be hot and slender and would owe it all to a steady diet of Dynamite Rolls, hot dogs, Skittles and beer. So, I guess what I mean, is that in a more reality-based ideal world, going to the gym would be completely user-friendly.

Since that ain't the case around 6pm, I'm instead forced to just grab whatever machine is available, use it and pop over to another open machine in a truly non-sensical order. I'm kind of like Frogger - hopping around to the empty spaces like a big spaz except that there isn't really much of a plan or goal involved (not to suggest that Frogger's achievement of crossing the street was that sane either. Just stay in the pond, fool!).

I'm attempting to go to bed early (like, right now) so that I'll slowly train my body to be able to handle earlier morning wake-ups so that I may go to el gym before work and possible make the most of my silly workout attempts. We shall see.

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13 Nov 2005

You People Make Me Laugh

What you may not know about my site is that in the precious coding I’ve inserted a little program that lets me see how many people come check out the page and if they linked from another page to do so, including using web searches.

I tell you, just getting to see the truly strange and random things people Google makes blogging so worth it. It’s like having access to everyone’s dirty little secret that they dare not ask out loud.

This week, someone found my site by searching for a very bizarre thing: appetizer that looks like a tennis racquet.

I don’t know why you found my site with that search, or why you’d even want to search for something like that, you culinary kook, but I’m sorry that you didn’t find the answer to your question here. You probably landed on the post that had me in my pink tennis skirt. I can’t recall talking about appetizers in that post, but I was probably thinking about them, as always.

Hopefully this picture I found will help you, even though I think it looks kinda dumb and reminds me of the kind of 'crafty snack' we would be encouraged to make as children by that Saturday morning cartoon guy that was dressed in Western wear ("I hanker for a hunk-a, a slab, a slice a chunk-a, I hanker for a hunk-a CHEESE!"). I'm not sure what tennis-based prop the popcorn is supposed to represent, but the red ball of god-only-knows is a gourmet tennis ball. Yarg.

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11 Nov 2005

Appreciate Me, Dammit!

So, you know of this gym thing I am doing, right?

Well, I don't normally go two days in a row but I was lured into doing it recently. The other night when I went, I was told "Don't forget about Member Appreciation Day, tomorrow!" and was handed a little flyer.

On this bright green piece of fun lay two words that distinctly got my attention: Complimentary Refreshments.

I cannot possibly tally how many functions I have attended because of the complimentary refreshments. I've done boring art shows, bad store openings, random social gatherings ... all in the name of spinach dip. The number would be staggering. Finger food, drinks, samples - I love it like a hillbilly loves his cousin.

The mere thought of whatever dinky food and drink the gym was planning had totally sold me on coming in. I literally got up at freakin' 6am just to enjoy whatever shit they had. I endured the early morning transit rush, got to the gym and found a elliptical machine and got going, all the while scanning the room. First, I saw someone come in with a bunch of balloons. "Good," I thought "very good - it's starting" another ten minutes of sweat passed and I saw the staff members bring in a table to the area. "Excellent - all the better to place the refreshments," I thought.

AND THEN .... nothing. Nadda. They put some fucking brochures on the table and put up a sign advertising that their rip-off exercise clothing was on sale.

Where were the cute sandwiches? Nicely sliced fruit? Cheese squares? Dammit, I wanted to be appreciated via Complimentary Refreshments!!!

What's the freakin' point of coming for a workout if I'm not going to scarf down crap afterward?

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9 Nov 2005

Yay Me

Yay me, indeed.

After completing a rather full and busy day at work (9am to 6:30pm) I was left with a choice: To gym or not to gym. That was the question.

I knew I should go, but I didn't want to. I wanted to drag my ass home, have dinner and watch my Martha. But, I put the money down on this membership because my body needs to be active. Both were compelling feelings, so I did what any sane person would do: I left it up to fate.

I told myself that as I was approaching the gym, I'd see what the bus stop was looking like. If it appeared as though I had just missed a bus, I'd go the gym. If it looked as if one was about to come (ie: a bunch of people waiting), I would just catch it and forego the workout.

Turns out that fate wanted to see me do crunches tonight. As I rounded the corner to where both the stop and the gym were, I was greeted by the site of the bus pulling away. The gym it was.

I'm glad it turned out the way it did. I only did 40 min of cardio & some ab exercises, but I was amazed by how quickly all of my swirling thoughts of work melted away. THAT was nice. However, I was starving afterward. I picked up a sandwich at the nearby grocery store and began demolishing it once I cleared the nest of shopping carts at the store's entrance (had it not been a faux pas to just start eating in line at the check out, I would have done that).

Despite feeling great for having gone after work, I'd like to try getting my gym time done in the morning. Getting up at that hour will suck, but I'm not exactly fond of dining in parking lots and coming home after 9pm, either. Go figure.

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8 Nov 2005

Oh, Right ... Tuesday!

Ok, so ... I have not gained "TEN FUCKING POUNDS" but I have gained, all the same. This sucks, but was totally deserving because I didn't actually do much in the way of weight gain prevention let alone weight loss promotion. My bad.

I'd love to blame Patrick for this, as he continues to bring home chips on a weekly basis, but it's not like he forces them into a feed bag and straps it on my face. No, I do it to myself and need to smarten the fuck up. I need to just snap out of it and stick to the bigger, long-term priority over the short-term yummy, lazy, fatty pigfest known at our place as Saturday and Sunday.

Yesterday, I joined the gym. The money I dropped will not be revealed here, but it was sick. Tomorrow, I plan to actually go forth and use this gym membership. I just need to do SOMETHING, and the gym that is 2 minutes away from work is a hard thing to ignore (ha, who am I kidding, I RULE at ignoring obligation and work). But I will go. I need to form a habit, that for once, is actually positive and healthy, rather than those that make my breath stinky and my thighs expansive.

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7 Nov 2005

Ever Wish?

Ever wish that you could turn to the loud, screaming, milk-smelling man beside you on the subway and ask "can you just go be crazy somewhere else, please?"

I now have a horribly long transit ride to work, which is fine in the morning because it appears that insane people don't get up that early. But on the way home, it never fails that some troubled soul decides to let loose a few seats away from me. I know I should feel bad for them, but mostly I feel bad for me.

The guy today on my way home kept loudly announcing various football scores and tv shows and then went into strange tirades about being a dog that needed to be freed. Pretty much everyone was doing their best to act like it wasn't happening. He was in full madness mode when two big, beefy guys that had that DO NOT FUCK WITH ME look came on the subway car and sat nearby. And what do you know, the crazy guy promptly shut up.

Ooooh - look who's not tough enough to be crazy now?!? That's right, bitch! Maybe you should go back to the library until you're ready to play with the big boys, huh?

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6 Nov 2005

The Thing You Should Never Assume About A Woman

Today I spent much of the afternoon partaking in my favourite hobby - shopping. What is it about consuming that I love so much?

I had grabbed a few items and was waiting in line at a change room when I was witness to one of those horrible things that you can't believe still happens in today's day and age. There are certain things that you figure all women realize is a no-no, and yet it occured today in the most disturbing of ways. I will explain:

A woman (maybe early thirties) stepped out of her change room and caught the attention of a sales clerk. I was still waiting in line, but was in the direct line of sight for the exchange.

Woman In The Change Room: Hi, um, would you be able to find me these pants [ed note: she was wearing them] in a size smaller please?

Sales Clerk: You sure?

The woman seemed a bit taken aback by this and hesitates. My heart stopped.

Woman In The Change Room: Yes ... um, I mean, if it isn't too much trouble.

Sales Clerk: (giddy and smiling) Heehee - oh no, no trouble! I just meant you might want to keep the size you have on now so that you can still wear it in a few months!

The woman looked even more baffled and started to flush. I didn't understand what the sales clerk meant but it sounded 100% awful and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Woman In The Change Room: Umm ... I think I'd still like to see the smaller size, I think they'll fit better.

Sales Clerk: If you say so, but I know your little secret! I can always tell!

At that, the sales clerk patted the woman's little gut and smiled and went to go get her the requested size.

The woman was frozen for a second in complete and utter confusion and then it hit both of us at the same time: the sales clerk mistook her to be pregnant.

The woman made a little gasping noise and scuttled back into her change room and I could hear her frantically taking off the pants and presumably putting her own clothes back on in order to get the fuck out of there. I was shown my own change room at that point, so I didn't see her leave, but I know she did before the freak sales clerk returned because she was calling for her without answer.

I still feel horrible for that woman, and had I been able to do anything for her I would have - although I think the best thing I could have done was act as if I was not witness to her nightmare (which I really tried to do, really. Tried).

Why is it that some people think it's ok to guess/ask if people are pregnant?!?! I won't even give up my subway seat unless the woman does the obvious Yes-I'm-pregnant-so-get-the-fuck-up-and-let-me-sit-down moves: She puts her hand on her lower back to indicate it's sore and puts the other hand on/under her tummy in a protective way. That is the universal sign for pregnant. If you do not see it, do not assume. Ever!!!

Wherever you are Woman In The Change Room, I'm sorry you encountered such idiocy. You didn't look pregnant, and I agree that you could have gone down a size in your pants. Maybe even two.

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4 Nov 2005

12

= The number of times a group a try-hard 20-year olds mentioned the word "emo" while on the subway. The also talked about The OC, Stillepost and a few other lame things that I can't clearly recall because I was spacing out from disinterest.

I can't wait until I'm in my thirties and can officially distance myself from 20-something poo-talk.

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1 Nov 2005

Weighty Confessions

10 lbs. 10 fucking lbs. THAT is what the scale keeps insisting I've gained this week. Now, I know that I can't have possibly gained 10 lbs of fat, and I have the added knowledge that this is a time of water retention for me - but STILL!

I'm quite sure I have gained some fat-based weight because:
a) I have not been tracking points all that well / at all
b) I have gleefully been eating shit in the form of candy and chips on the weekend
c) I've been having a bit more to drink lately (not in a Liza Minelli way but in the more-consistently-having-wine-with-dinner way) and I know how quickly that adds points
d) I no longer have my nice walk from work that I can pretend is daily exercise

I do all this bullshit more and more even though I know my 'goal dates' draw closer. It's just not worth it to eat that crap and I even recognize that fact at the time, yet for some reason I act like I don't care and just sabotage myself continually. Why???

I'm considering joining a gym as there is a good one near my work - and as I say this, I roll my eyes. I do this all the time:
1. I get all desperate/motivated and join a gym
2. Stick with it for three months
3. Something interrupts my ways (crazy work, illness, crazy life)
4. I derail completely
5. I announce "I'm just not a gym person and that's ok" and then pay money each month for a service I don't use until the annual contract is up
6. Months and months (or even years) pass and I slowly start to look gym-ward again.

It would be frightening to see how much money I've put toward weight-loss stuff (books, equipment, gym memberships, WW stuff, exercise videos). Frightening - and I think part of the reason I do it is because once I plunk money down on something, I immediately feel accomplished, as if I had dropped 20lbs right there. Which of course I celebrate with a glass of wine a piece of cake. BECAUSE I MAKE SUCH GREAT SENSE.

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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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