Work.

I never post much about work.
I have a job that I putter away at, it's sometimes aggravating, sometimes okay.
Not being a very ambitious person (and what I mean by that is I have no desire to make it to the 'top' only to be stressed out and anxiety ridden while standing there) so I do what I need to do, and go home at the same time everyday.

I know that it doesn't sound glamorous, and it's not.
But, I'll never fool myself into believing that I'm only as important as my job title.
It's a pity that that belief is so rampant.
What I DO like about my job is that I know it so well I can do it with my eyes closed, and have plenty of time to entertain myself during the rest of the day.
I love to read, so http://www.gutenberg.org/ is a wonderful site.
I read "Alice in Wonderland" one afternoon, and "Vanity Fair" over a few days...not to mention, "Far From the Madding Crowd."
All the classics, right there at my finger tips for my reading pleasure.

And obviously I like to write, so I have lots of time to sit and contemplate posts and stories and anything worthy of being transcribed into reading material.

Yeah, I know.

Maybe it's a bit dodgy to not actually WORK at work.
But on the other hand, I am improving my mind while I'm here...I'm not surfing porn or checking out the latest gossip that surrounds Ms. Hilton like so much airy pink cotton candy around a (very thin) stick.
I'm actively engaged in making myself a better, more interesting person.
Ain't that great?

Now, just how am I going to explain that to my employer when they finally catch on?
I really doubt my intellectual advancements would interest them one little bit.
Pity.

Best intentions.

I really want to have a 'links' thingy and a stat counter and be able to post pictures too.
But I don't know how.
So, please believe that I have the best of intentions.
Because we all know what the road to hell is paved with, and that suits me just fine!

Some one I used to know thought that the saying was 'the road to hell is paved with bad intentions'.
That DOES make sense, but the irony is darker when it's expressed the other way.
So anyway.
I would if I could, but I can't.
So I won't.

Ah, Vancouver drivers.

Late the other night, my friends and I were sitting outside enjoying some gelato. I happened to glance up and I noticed someone trying to parallel park in front of my car. I could just TELL he had no idea what he was doing. I pointed this out to our little group, "Hey, that guy is going to hit my car...watch." And sure enough, as everyone turned to look, he backed into to my car. Then, he finished parking, got out of his vehicle glanced minorly at my bumper and really didn't appear to be about to do the right thing by leaving a note for me. Jennye and I strode over, I whipped out my handy dandy mini note book and said, "You just hit my car, weren't you going to leave a note?" "Uh...there's not THAT much damage" He replied. "That's not really the point, is it?" I snapped back, jotting down his license number, make and model of vehicle. "Your drivers license please." I required. "But it's not that bad." He repeated. "You hit my car. You may not care, but I do. I assume you have insurance?" "Yes, I have insurance. Hey what are you doing?" He was looking suspiciously at Jennye. This is the best part! While I was grilling him, Jennye was taking pictures of the damage! Love friends with digital cameras! He was not at all please about my friend with the digital camera. Oh well, you don't mess with 30+ year old women who have notepads and cameras! You know, he's right, there wasn't much damage at all. And I would have just walked away from it without a second thought...if only he had said "I'm sorry."

Ugh.

My apartment is clean(ish). I mean, I don't have food lying around rotting. There's a few dishes that need washing up, and maybe somethings ARE in need of a little dusting, but a pigsty it's decidely NOT. So WHAT'S with all the flies? They're circling...CIRCLING...CIRCLING............ it's driving me NUTS!!!!! And why do they need to do crazy-ass figure eights in my living room!?! It's not like I have food in my living room that they are potentially stalking. And trying to confuse by flying in tight little circles 1/2 foot above it. 'Cus that's really effective. Maybe I've been promoted to Beezelbub and someone neglected to send me the memo? Hope it comes with a raise, 'cus it's going to take a lot to get used to those crazy little bastards. They make me ill just watching them. uh oh...feeling disoriented. getting dizz....

All hell broke loose this morning.

As I was going about my morning ablutions, I heard a terrible commotion outside in the alley.
I peered outside into the beautiful bright morning only to see a cluster of Starlings making a loud fuss about SOMETHING behind a fence.
If you've never heard Starlings, you'd be surprised at the amount of sounds they can make, not to mention the ear shattering volume they can achieve.
From a 'CHCHCHCHCH' sound of angry squirrels, to the harsh 'SKREE SKREE' of fierce blue jays, they have plethora of loud noises they can choose from.
It really is amazing.
BUT that amazment can quickly turn to sheer blinding rage when you're trying to sleep and a contingency of them are screaming away outside your window at 5:30 am.
Fortunately, this was not one of those occasions, so I was more puzzled than pissed.

I thought that perhaps a cat had caught one and was the focus of the collective rage, but upon going outside, all it turned out to be was a crow standing around minding his own business.
He didn't appear to be doing anything but be standing about, but the Starlings had worked themselves into a right tizzy.
They were yelling and hollering and dive bombing him and generally waging all out war.
And he just continued to stand there, ignoring the whole brouhaha he was causing.
I wonder about birds sometimes.
So.
That's it then.
Have a great weekend, and I hope that no masses of wailing birds wake you early in the morning.

Whee!

Thanks to :

http://stilettoes.blogspot.com/ for a great site AND
for a posting this other great site!

http://www.howtobeahero.com/guild/welcome/

'Cus everyone LOVES a hero!!

(gee, you'll never guess what I am! oh, what's that?....did you say 'Tai just HAS to be a WARRIOR??!!!"
Wow. You really DO know me!)

Nose odor update...

...it's gone down.
Vanished into 'thin air' (now WHY do I find that so funny?)

Anyway, just so you know.

Just in case you were following this little bit of strangeness in my life.

I mean, you know. If you cared.

(I know you do.)

Unusual word.

Kim asked me about a word she couldn't track down.
She said she had done several searches, but to no avail.

And I was horrified to have to acknowledge that I didn't actually know it!

So I went to the Dictionary of Difficult Words and plugged it in...

Teratism

n. monstrosity; love of monsters or marvels. teratical, a. teratogen, n. substance that can cause fetal deformities if absorbed during pregnancy. teratogenesis, teratogeny, n. production of malformations in a fetus or of biological monstrosities. teratoid, a. abnormal. teratology, n. composition of fantastic stories; study or description of, or doctrine about, miracles; study of freaks, monsters, and physical abnormalities. teratosis, n.


"A love of monsters or marvels. "
Well now.
That really does explain a lot of things, doesn't it?

Oh, the smallest of all pleasures.

Like, I got a paper cut, on my finger!?

And now, I have a SPIDERMAN band-aid on it!

I'm so excited...I never had cool band-aids when I was a kid.

"Spider man SPIDER man, does what ever a SPIDER can,
Can he swing from a thread?
Take a look OVER head...LOOK OUT!
Here comes the SPIDER MAN!"

c'mon everyone, sing along!

There's an aroma I can't quite figure out...

How to describe this…it’s very odd so bear (bare?) with me.
I have a scent…an odour, um…a smell that is lodged in my nose, and has been lodged there for almost 2 weeks now.

It’s a mix between coffee and smoke, I think.

It’s a very musty thick smell and I just can’t shake it.

I’m not saying it’s horribly unpleasant, but it’s just so weird that I’m stuck with an…oh I don’t know…a olfactory malfunction?

I’ve had it before, it’s not new to me, and it WILL go away eventually, but until then...

First time I’ve ever tried to describe it though, and in doing so, I realize now just how truly bizarre it is.
“A smell stuck in your nose, eh, Tai?”

Yeah, that’s cool.

Note to self.

Here is a typical message I leave for myself at work.

9
LIONS
BATHG
(mt)

It's strange to look at your own short hand from an outsiders perspective.

It looks so exotic...like I'm reminding myself to try bathing 9 lions on a mountain or something.

No such luck.

It refers merely to door # 9, a company called 'Lionsgate', and a building complex called Bathgate.

The (mt) is easy, it's short for empty!
(get it? get it? mt=empty HAHAHAHAHA!!) *









*one HAS to find SOMETHING to entertain oneself with at work...am I right!?! C'mon, AM I RIGHT!?!?
(you know I am. Just admit it.)

Bad hair. BAD BAD HAIR!!!

I have had it with my hair!
It's being perverse.
And really, I'm not far away from hacking it all off and letting it grow in half gray and weird and curly(ish).
That would teach it, wouldn't it?

It IS partially my own fault, between the coloring, blow drying and straightening it was bound to happened.
I'm willing to accept that.
BUT, what is NOT my fault is the unruly gray mess that it's becoming naturally.
That, I blame solely and completely on my dear mama.

So now it's a multi-colored dry, straw like mess that, despite my best efforts to tame and turn into something smooth and silk like, continues to rebel.

Ick.
Please someone, suggest something less drastic than chopping it all off.

'Cus otherwise I'm going to colour it again, I swear I will!!!!

New word for your vocabulary.

I think this may be old and well used, but nonetheless...

Word of the day: Sarchasm

Definition: : The unassailable gulf between the owner of fine edged sarcastic wit, and the person who just. doesn't. get it.

Who's bright idea was THAT!?!

You're a car designer in the early eighties for Pontiac.
You want to design a cool car that people will want to drive, 'cus it's got such a cool name.

After thinking and thinking and THINKING about what the most awesome name would be for your super car, you come up with 'SUNBURST'!
Now who WOULDN'T want to drive a car that was reminiscent of summer days, and fun in the sun?

So. What do you do next?
You paint it 'dried-blood red' of course...'cus that REALLY shows just how gosh darn fun it would be to drive. *
And that colour suits the name 'Sunburst' so very well.

All your friends would be jealous when you told them.

"I have a NEW CAR!" you shouted it proudly back in '84.

"What is it what IS it!!??" everyone would shout excitedly back.

"It's a 'dried-blood red' PONTIAC SUNBURST!" you'd reply...waiting for the cheers.

But there was no cheer, was there?
Your friends just looked uncomfortable and shuffled away. No one wanted to ride in your 'ride'.

So why on earth DO car companies paint cars in bad colors anyway?

I'm certainly not exempt from owning a car with a dodgy color...yes pun intended.
It was an old muscle car... a 1970 Dodge Charger.

And it was BROWN.

Yup, plain old BROWN!

In fact, it was brown like DIRT!

Why paint a fast and powerful car, meant to impress friends and enemies, BROWN!!??!!!

Why???

And the iridescent, glow in the dark STICKER that ran the length of the car didn't do it any favours, either.
(Yeah, I know. It really was a sticker. I wouldn't lie about a thing like that. I'm sorry.)

I mean, you can't evade the law when your bloody car lights up like fireworks when the cops headlights catch you turning a corner in an effort to make a high speed, sneaky get away.

Believe me. I tried.
It didn't work.

Geeeeezzzzzz.......

*now, 'freshly-spilt blood red' is a color of a different...uh...color, I guess

uuuhhhhh.....

Hmmm...

witty comments: 0

intelligent observations about life: 0

moments of elucidation: 0

oooh, I 'm on a roll today!

But seriously. I'm suffering from a total lack of anything clever to write about.
I mean...I've got a really gross transit system story I could regal you with, but I don't think I will.
This blog is supposed to be quasi-intelligent and semi-amusing.
But gross? Nope.
It. just. doesn't. cut it.

So, nothing for today I guess, as I'm going to refrain from making you feel ill to your stomach. (like I just about was on the bus that day!)
Wow.
That guy was really vile.
I can't believe he was doing that in broad daylight on a very hot, crowded bus.
ugh, just thinking about it makes my stomach queasy.

Aren't you glad I'm not sharing?

Love them crazy cat ladies! (and yes, I do mean me too!)

"Because nothing is sexier than a divorced woman with 4 cats."
http://www.crazyauntpurl.com/

Regarding my new (temporary) cat.

She's just lovely.
A bit quirky, but sweet.
Nervous to the point of hiding for 3 hours straight around strangers, but affectionate and happy when she trusts you.
She chirps instead of 'meows', which is entirely appropriate to her little 5lbs of fluff.

Now, here's what I just don't understand.
How could stupid idiot boy not bother calling me (or bringing over all that food for her he keeps promising) for over a week and a half to find out how she is?

Perhaps he feels she's in such safe hands, that he can continue on his merry way, completely assured of the safety and happiness of his wee cat?
Of course, that IS true.

But you know, I just think that it's because he's to lazy and self absorbed to bother.
He better be careful, I might forget that she hasn't been my cat for years and years and decline to give her back! *



*Whenever he gets around to asking for her back, I mean.
At the rate he's going, he might just never bother!

A dearth of intellectual stimuli here at work.

I went and saw the "Hitchhikers Guide" last night.
Very enjoyable, but I concur with most reviews that if you haven't read the book(s), you'd probably be confused and not very amused.
However, being a fan of the books, I enjoyed it quite a bit.
Thought they did a bang up job, in fact, so cheers to them!

However, I sooo wanted to chat with my co workers about it today, until I realized (sadly) that NO ONE I work with would have the faintest idea what I was talking about.
If I was to discuss the "O.C." or something, I'd have people to talk with, but not on this topic.

That makes me sad.

On a good note though, I went to the "Teen Angst Poetry" reading at the Media Club on Sunday here in Vancouver...just brilliant, of course!

Check it out, and pay special attention to the fine angsty poems by our own dear friend, Ms. K. Bannerman!
It's not quite Vogon class, but then, I think we can be thankful for that.

http://www.teenangstpoetry.com/