Friday, June 27, 2008

Sweet tapdancing Christ, hold my hand for this

Come on, it's overcast skies and it has been rainy for days and I'm so tired and I WANT COFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

Could you hear me whining from over there?!

OK, it's time for some rational analysis.


Finish this sentence:

Coffee makes me feel...


...also eventually more anxious, jumpy, moody, prone to useless rumination and fretting, plus I also tend to put on weight a bit when I drink it because it messes with my insulin and blood sugar, making me feel hungry more often.


When I'm not drinking coffee I feel...

calm, grounded, drowsy.


Is decaf okay? Can I just smell yours? What if I just swish it around in my mouth and spit it out?

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Atticus is a hump machine

I was thiiiiiiiis close to cutting out his nards myself tonight. (Snip! Snip!) The humping - and by this I mean humping the toys, humping the couch, air humping - is reaching new, unforeseen and generally unnecessary heights. I tried to chasten him by ripping out his inner ear hair,* with negligible results.

He is also getting huge, and I don't mean his little grape-sized testicules,** so he's getting heavier to toss to the other end of the sofa when he starts his ridiculous mechanical thrusts. Because his legs are so long, when he tries to hump the bunny, he's mostly grinding the air three inches above its head:

Picture taken from here.

* Don't look at me like that, you have to do this with the long-eared hairy breeds or they get ear infections.

** Best pronunciation and spelling. Use it. Abuse it.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

more herbal tea, please

So I'm coping without coffee. I'd really really love some right now, just once, just this one time, just for old times sake, just one little cup, just ohmygodIamanaddict.

Monday, June 23, 2008

braces, glasses, acne, perm

I'll dig up a picture of me in my glory days as a 13 year old. Wow.

So I've been gunning for this contract, see? And the guy who decides who gets it has been kind of elusive. I shouldn't worry. I have the right experience, plus my former CEO is a friend of his and recommended me heartily. But they are keeping me in the dark about all the details and now I'm just feeling like, to hell with them. I need to plan my summer, folks!!

It could just be my defensive reaction to the major embarrassment I sustained today. I called the guy, got his voice mail, slightly flubbed what I meant to say, and hit the key that I thought would let me "erase and re-record".



The automated voice simply said "Thank you" and ended the call, leaving me with a dial tone, and the sudden sensation of spit-talking braces on my teeth, huge glasses eclipsing my face, erupting acne in the T-zone, and chemically curly hair.

So apparently I sent this guy a dumbass message that abruptly ends mid-sentence. I followed up with a coherent and confident-sounding email, but I don't know if that'll save it.*

* I'm REALLY glad that I didn't let my message trail off into funny noises, something I usually do when I've decided to erase-and-re-record, like "ga ga ga ga gaaaaaaaaaaaa thhhhhhpppppppttttt".

Friday, June 20, 2008

breaking up is hard to do

Well, it seems that I'm trying to kick coffee, booze and sugar. I'll be hard-core about it for a few weeks, then lighten up about a frosty beer here, a dessert there.

The reasons for sugar are obvious: it's plain old bad for you. It's in almost everything now, even your mayonnaise. However, with a bit of Type 2 diabetes in the family and my occasional day-destroying mood tailspins that are so obviously related to my fluctuating blood sugar, I'd be a dumbass to keep riding the sugar train.

In regards to the caffeine and booze, it's mostly because I've been craving these things a little TOO much lately, and I'm uncomfortable with being held so tightly in the grip of these substances. I don't want to need anything so badly to help me wake up or chill out.

Alcohol is no real problem; I'll just play with my hilarious puppy to unwind.

Sugar? Yes, I crave you, but you are a bastard who never treated me right in the first place. My resentment is palpable and gives me strength to slam the door in your face and hang up the phone on you several times a day until you get the message.

However, because I'm a caffeine junkie who loves her coffee so strong and thick and dark that you could tar the roof with it, I'm now suffering crippling multi-day full-body headaches radiating from my occiput. Coffee, you psychopath, I kissed you goodbye, and you kicked me in the base of the skull! Asshole, that is called assault. I had hoped you would handle our breakup like an adult and take away only fond memories of our good times together. I am SO disappointed in you. Don't think I won't get a restraining order if I have to.

(My favourite part is the girl on the left shushing someone during the intro.)

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

I'm so mature

I have successfully trained my puppy to shit when I give the command to "Lay Some Pipe".

Buoyed by my success, I now feel that anything is possible. Perhaps we'll now work on:

That Stinks! = look ashamed and wordlessly take the blame for mommy's toot

Martinis! = please hold mommy's hair back while she barfs

Any other suggestions?

UPDATE: I have been informed by MANY that "Laying Pipe" really means "doing it" and by "doing it" I mean "having sexual intercourse". Well I'll be darned. So I've switched to "Lay Some Logs"...

Saturday, June 14, 2008

don't let this happen to you

Hi hi hi!

It's been a while. But you already know I'm Worst Blogger Alive, so I know you already have low expectations.

Of course, the best thing to get me out of my writing silence is complaining about other people!*

This one is kind of stale but it's all I've got, other than "blah blah, my puppy is sooooo cute, blah blah". If that was enough for you, go on, read Garfield minus Garfield or whatever it is that my readers usually read.

So a couple of weeks ago, I was invited out to a farewell party for this woman I've met a few times. It was at this hip Chinese-fusion kind of restaurant in town, the kind where the food is great and the coolest kids in town know the owners and the wait staff by name, and they all invite each other to each other's gigs and there's always some local hipster's art on the walls. You know that kind of place.

I was surrounded by Masters and PhD students. They're all studying interesting things, all working on looking at things from not very mainstream angles (like how power works, how governments are guiding and shaping human life, how we are shaping our own lives and participating in structures of power) and most of them are interested in some way improving the world, making things more fair or better for other people. Really, all the ingredients were there for some interesting conversations. YOU'D THINK.

See, I'm pretty friendly and curious and can usually have some kind of conversation with just about anybody. But could I get these people to talk? Well, yes, a little, about themselves, with the subtext being "I don't think you'll understand my work. It's very involved."

One guy there is currently working on self-government issues for First Nations in Canada, and when I said, "Neat. So what specifically drew you to study that?" hoping to hear about his passion for his work, or the aspects he finds most challenging, he looked at me like I'd just asked him how he felt about his mother working the back alley for fifty cents a trick.

Stunned by the silence around our end of the table (weren't these people supposed to be friends with each other?), I tried the American guy to my left, who's studying how agricultural policy has changed over the last few decades and what it reflects about power and government, and what and how much different countries grow as a result of policy, and how we eat. Maybe boring to some, but I'm a pretty big nerd and would have loved to hear more about what he has been learning.

Did my line of questioning get anywhere, even after I mentioned I'd worked for a prof who did related work to help indicate that I would get it? No. That's because apparently everything I said somehow came through his internal narcissistic translator as "I am so hot for you", which left him confused as to why I was hitting on him in front of my boyfriend.**

Then I tried everything - summer plans, anyone? Anyone read or see anything good lately? How about some silly quips about the cheap house wine? Pulse? Consciousness? Is this thing on?

Nobody asked me or my companion ANYTHING about ourselves, not even how we knew the guest of honour. Finally I sank into a silent rage and aggressively worked on finishing the wine.

I know what you're doing is underpaid and goes largely unrespected, but please put an end to the douchebaggery.

Thank you.

* It would be a lie to say that I've become more positive and that's the reason for my most recent lacuna.

** Dude, it's called conversation. I'm just a crude civilian, remember? If I'd been hitting on you, I would have been suggesting we head to the back alley and have a threesome with the other dude's mom. (Maybe if you mentioned you were studying agriculture from a Foucauldian perspective she'd give us a two-fer-one?)