PICS
NO idea where this came from! I fell up an escalator last week & my right knee is still in pain, but my butt stayed safe. (I also killed my computer, the secondMacbook I've destroyed, but my inability to function in harmony with technology is another story.)
So, the question remains... anybody been caning me while I wasn't looking?
have fun at work
have fun with my cat
have fun with my friends when I see them.
SO? So all is quite good, actually.
BC sunsets are so beautiful. The clouds never cease to amaze me.
I got an invite for Google+ today but I don't want to click on anything until I know more about this. Please, give me your reviews! Is it fun? Is it crappy? Or should I say, is it creepy?
& also: the new job is fun but the shoes are not. Well, they are fun in that they're steel-toed, which makes me feel like a badass, but after 8 hours they hurt! Does anyone have any tips on breaking in safety shoes?
Please & thank you!
I haven't been sick since fall of 2009, so this is a pretty big shock to my system. Thanks, Voodou, for sharing with me... and Choplogik. OH WELL, shit happens, and it was worth it for beachy hangouts & our mini art jam.
At this mini art jam ("mini" because half the usual suspects weren't there), we missed Cherry so much we created a surrogate:
Not gonna lie; we totally ate the cherries.
While I've been sick and quarantining myself in my bed, I have watched a ridiculous amount of Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares online, slept even more, and have devoted myself to soup. Apparently not feeling well = shunning all things solid (except for the ginger- & garlicky stir-fry I made last night to up my healthy intakes). I don't know what it is about liquid food, but it's just SO much more comforting. On normal days I have a voracious appetite, as anyone who has ever eaten with me can attest, but right now I think I've got a more average appetite. BO-RING. Hopefully it will pick up soon.
My plants are growing!
And around the lower mainland, I find the funniest signs...
Really? REALLY? I'm sorry, but if you've been alive long enough to be considered "senior" you should know how to cross the damn street without warning signs.
OK... writing this has been strenuous enough. Back to bed with me!
Anyway. Last night I had one hell of a nightmare that woke me up at 6am. And it was about...
Yeah, you read that right. My nightmares are about urban social problems.
If I'm having a quiet evening alone at home, before bed I often watch a short documentary. Narrators often have incredibly soothing voices, and why not learn something? I'm pretty addicted to Documentary Heaven. Last night I settled on Britain's Bad Housing. I remember Cherry talking about living in the UK and just how expensive rent is there, pretty much everywhere (and I though Vancouver was terrible!). I also really like watching Mike Holmes talk about shifty buildings, crook developers, etc., and then fix everything to higher standards or simply just to meet the damn building code. So I watched and learned about developer bribes to the government, escalating prices, and substandard building practices (like the guy who could hear the people living two floors above him through the empty flat between them, or the couple with slanting brick walls).
Really good overview of the current situation, and I found it quite applicable here on the west coast. (Here's looking at you, Olympic Village!)
But I guess combined with my scouting of a burned building site earlier in the week (*) this was just too much for my little brain to handle. In my dream, the floors weren't stable. The roof leaked, the walls were in danger of collapsing. I called my neighbours, the building manager, my parents, the police, building inspectors, and for some reason had to stay in my apartment for another few months. The dream-landlord said he'd give me free rent for the next three months because I shouldn't have to pay to live in a piece of junk (if only the real world worked like that!) but still, I was terrified. I slept on my air mattress on the floor by the closet so I'd have, hopefully, protection against a falling ceiling. Every time I took a step it was a gamble as to whether my stride would shake the place as if in an earthquake, or if I'd fall right through the floor. My lovely roof terrace was condemned as unsafe. By the time I woke up, I felt like I'd been living in fear.
Phew! A quick walk around my apartment proved that I did not, in fact, live in a crumbling mess, but in a sturdy old building with intact ceilings and floors that can take actual human activity. Still, it took a while before I calmed down inside.
* Like this:
Even nightmares won't stop me from exploring wrecks.
...OK I guess they're not "live" if you don't read this within minutes of my putting it up. Or something like that.
First things first! I'm really glad to see that the world didn't end, not that I ever expected it would... A day or two after the Raptor didn't come I learned that all this fuss came from ONE crazy dude in the US. One guy?!?! What is wrong with the world that one single moron can cause such ado about nothing? Or I suppose more incredibly, how did anyone believe him when he'd been wrong before? I guess it won't be the last time... But boy, I bet there are some red-faced fundamentalists out there!
Anyway. I decided that I'd like to go out in style...
& I got my favourite chair in the whole world!
When I was really little (let's say birth to five years), my parents had a papasan chair and foot stool. I know this because I saw it in photo albums, and while I don't remember actually sitting in the chair I DO remember it wasting away in the garage for a while before my mum got rid of it. Years later, when I was 18 and moving out, I gave her a lecture on why that was the greatest chair ever and how sad I was that she didn't save it for me. (I'm quite sure she poo-poo'ed this and went on with her day.)
Then after I'd lived in Montreal for a few years, I discovered a papasan buried under a mountain of stuff in a friend's apartment. She didn't really want the chair and I did, but a) she wanted $70 for it, and b) I was soon off to California and didn't want to spend money on a chair I'd either have to get rid of or pay to ship. So no chair for me.
But a few weeks ago when I was moving out of my apartment in Victoria, I ran into other movers and they were getting rid of a papasan frame. I claimed it immediately and brought it to Vancouver. Then one day my dad sent me a cheque with instructions -- "for the completion of your chair" -- and off I scampered to find a cushion! I did, I dragged the damn thing home on the bus and skytrain, and now I have the greatest chair in the world.
Since I wrote so much about the chair (if you're even still reading) I might as well show you...
The rest of my apartment pretty much looks like this:
...hurray for piles against the wall! I swear, if I don't find some freebie bookshelves soon, I'm gonna build something myself! I'll probably lose a toe in the process or something, but I've never done that before so it could be fun.
Next blog will have boobs in it, promise! 
