The flame of my eternal love burns for all things art deco

A very Zen greeting to you all today, my dear readers. Today has a rather Zen feel to it, after the hectic week I have experienced. It has been designated as my “relaxation” day, and thus far it is going well.
As busy as I have been, it has been a fabulous week. Primarily, I’m still a “giddy little schoolgirl” about my newfound beau. I simply can’t put into words how incredible this feeling is, my dear readers. All I can say is this: he’s blown my mind, turned my world upside down, and made me happier then I can remember being. The epitome of this newfound feeling? I giggle, kids. ­­-I- giggle. Yeah. It’s sick. I know.
My job enthusiasm has skyrocketed. This week, I finally figured out how to effectively do my job. And do it well, I might add. So in the last week, I have earned respect from every individual in the office, led several workshops, made some minor business decisions, and felt pretty damn good about all of it. The best feeling yet? I officially set an office record for being the first to get my leadership qualifications in 4 days. A feeling that rivals that one? My boss, the head of the entire enterprise, the big enchilada behind all that is Legacy Enterprises, put his arms around me and said to my other boss, “She’s my new favorite.” Oh wow. What a feeling of recognition that was. I’ve gone from feeling pretty dammed disillusioned with this job to rocking at it. I guess I should have known. After all, I put my mind to it, didn’t I? (one day this cocky attitude is going to get me in sooo much trouble!) Anyway, it took a lot of hard work, determination, and several drops of integrity, but I worked it out. In exchange for this success, I have given up a lot of personal time. I don’t have a lot of free time anymore, and when I do, I’m usually too exhausted to do anything about it. I try my best to make time for my sweetie, my Dots, and my Girls. I’m doing my best here, guys. Just so you know.
So speaking of big changes in my life, here comes another one: I am 13 days away from moving into my own condo with Jdot. Leaving the nest, spreading the wings, and all those other awful clichés people refer to when moving out for the first time. Mum and I went Ikea shopping for house goods yesterday. Wow. I am –determined- to have an art deco place. It likely won’t happen to an awesome degree due to some budgeting issues, but for the most part it will be art deco colors. I began my passionate love affair with all things art deco last year in Churchill’s C Lit 474 class, and it’s now carried over into my personal life. (Hell, if I could walk around in a trench coat, smoking a cigarette, and eternally brushing my sexy locks out of my eyes while a midget followed me around with a spotlight to backlight me at all relevant moments for the rest of my life, I would. But sadly, I don’t live in the world of film, and try as I may, I’m no femme fatale. But, I digress.) The dream of a full-blown art deco place will have to remain in my heart until I can finance it. But one day, my dear readers. One day. (Chelsey, stop shaking your head and laughing at me.)
There is so much more to write about, but sadly, I cannot commit any more time to this post. So please, get out there and enjoy the sunshine. It’s a beautiful time of year, with some pretty incredible things all around us. I highly recommend utilizing this time, for this is Canada, and it will soon be an icy snowscape.

Wear sunscreen. I cannot emphasize this enough.

-K

Quote du Jour
“I’m excited about our collective bookshelves!”
-Jdot

This coffee tastes like purple.

Hey folks.

Well, it’s been a fabulous week. I’m going to follow the extremely complex format I’ve been abusing of late, and give it to ya point form.

-Well, the most exciting thing is that I have a new beau. He’s fabulous, and makes me feel all girly and let me tell you: it feels pretty damn strange. It’s awesome, but I’m not exactly used to the whole “weak knees butterflies in the stomach feeling”. The best part is having a partner of equal intellectual quotient. His wit is phenomenal. And it’s incredibly refreshing. Okay, so now that I’m done being all girly and whatever…

-Work has become tiresome. The glitter has faded, and I’m frustrated with the actual job itself. But I have confidence for next week. Plus, I’ve made some pretty amazing friends via this job. Kat in particular. We’ve decided that we’re “K squared”, the incredibly elite female team. It’s fun.

-My puppy recently had a run-in with a barb wire fence. She had to get some minor surgery on her leg, and she has to wear this huge plastic cone. This upsets me greatly, as she’s so loveable and goofy, and has absolutely zero conception of the diameter of her gigantic cone. So now the poor thing bumps into walls, stairs, and people. When she can’t do something, she gets all frustrated, and sad. And she looks so pathetic, it just breaks my heart. But it comes off reasonably soon, which will be a huge relief to everyone. Except the cat, who has been lording her mobile prowess over Murph for the last week. Sassy fuck’en cat.

- Saturday night can be summed up in the infamous words of Jordo: Zan is a tool. I mean, the night was good, and the alcohol definitely took away some of the edge I felt from work in the past week. Buuut...going to random bars on Whyte led by a drunkard? Not good. Not good at all. Meh, whatever. With the exception of the IQ of the proto-plasmic cube, the tiresome screaming, the random moving from, place to place, the dancing, the random apartment, and the random people in the random apartment pressing blades, it wasn’t a half-bad night. Besides, Jordo and I got pizza and watched family guy until dawn. Which always makes everything better.

-The The Fabulous, Wonderful, Amazing, and Miraculous Adventures of the Dot Family was born last night. It’s awesome. I suggest you check it out on Vic’s blog. And no, you won’t understand it. I just love the fact that my character is never allowed to say anything that isn’t confrontational. Speaking of confrontation…

-And if I may finish on a rather severe note. To the individual who has caused all kinds of hurt in Vdot’s life: You are a selfish, disgusting hypocrite. You do not deserve to be with a lady of such caliber. And if I see you in the street? I suggest you run.

Thanks all. See you next week.


-K

Quote du Jour
"Bottom line? The bitch is dumb."
- Queen of Confrontation.

Fuck’en rights little doggie, that’s good cake!!!

Oh wow.


Okay, so point form lives again.


-I started @ Legacy Enterprises on Monday. I’ve never seen, heard, or experienced a job quite like this one.

-So first I had to conquer the bus systems Being a pussy, I’m fucking terrified of driving in the city. So I learned the delights of public transit. You see, I have to get up at 5 to be at work by 8, and the “crazy people on the bus antics” just don’t quite compensate for the extreme exhaustion I feel every morning. Or on the way home. I’ve determined that those who recognize me on the bus are certain that I dress nicely to do crack in a cheap hash-house for the entire day because I’m always spaced out or sleeping. Terrific.

-I have these deranged coworkers. I work in an office populated entirely by gorgeous men who are all young, wealthy, driven, and damn fucking HOT. But also…..deranged. I’m also the only other woman in the office, other then Kat, my personal savior. But you can imagine what crazy stuff goes on with the entire office being men with the exception of me and Kat. Take my sexy boss and very sexy partner. My first experience was driving with them around Edmonton. Sound boring? Not even a little bit. These fuckers get high off of speed, adrenaline, and just doing stupid shit in general. Example. We’ve been in Camrose for the last 3 days. We’re coming back on the highway yesterday at the typical speed of 160-180. We pull onto the yellowhead, and I suddenly notice that my boss is driving. Which wouldn’t be a big deal if he wasn’t sitting IN THE BACKSEAT! He was working the wheel while by coworker worked the petals and shifting while going 180 down the yellowhead in a standard vehicle, so that they could rock out to Metallica and show off for the pretty girls in the car next to us. Well, while we streaked by them, anyway. At this point, I hear “Kelt, you know that you’re the eyes, right?”. They were both looking at the girls. Super. This is pretty much just a drop of terrifyingly stupid and hilarious shit that makes up the river of my co-worker related experiences.

-A typical conversation between them goes something like this:

Boss: Fuck *insert name* you fucking piss me off.

Co-worker : What? What the fuck? *gives charming smile*

Boss: You fucking suck my balls. You mother’s an astronaut.

Co-worker: Get off the mother jokes.

Boss: Why not? I just got off your mother!

And then they both laugh and I get about three seconds before my boss slaps my co-worker across the back of the head (WHILE doing 180 at any given time) just because he feels like it. Oh, and “What the fuck? You’re in the ditch! GET OUT OF THE DITCH!!” Is anther personal favorite. Ask me that story sometime. It’s special.

-As a result, my language has deteriorated into some serious trucker mouth. “Fuck” is the first work out of my mouth any given occasion This trend has got to stop, as a chick swearing every second word not only reflects ignorance, but looks trashy and pathetic. Fuck’en rights.

-Another personal favorite? When something good happens, they scream “Fuck’en rights little doggie, that’s good cake!”. This has become a part of my lingo. I will not sacrifice it. It makes me laugh every time my co-worker says it.

-I have a million other “office” stories, and they will slowly appear on here as time goes on. But seeing as how I log 12-15 hour days, I’m typically too damn tired to blog. Or, you know, operate at any mental level.

-For those who are curious, I make 100% commission, and there are several other aspects of this job that suck as well. It’s not all fun and games. I walk around small towns in heels, giving and receiving verbal and mental abuse for 8 hours. I get told to fuck off. I Get thrown out of businesses, and mentally molested every time I run into a pervert owner. My feet bleed, my legs ache, and my back spasms. I pay for my phone charges, which are HUGE, seeing as how we call each other to keep track of territory and make verification calls to 4 different companies, all of which take up to 15 mins each. I’m an independent contractor. My name is Keltie, and I’m with Enmax Energy. *sigh*.

Still, it’s worth is. I love my job, my deranged co-workers, and the fact that his has given me an outlet to be a totally different person. I really like this new positive, aggressive, workaholic Keltie. She might just have to stay.

-K

Quote du Jour

“Fuck’en right that’s good cake…that’s wedding cake, that’s how good that cake fuck’en is.”
-Sexy Co worker

Weekend Synopsis AKA How Kdot Got Her Groove Back.

Warning: this is an exceedingly long blog. So grab a coffee or something, this one might take some time.

So it was an excellent weekend of unadulterated debauchery. Far as I can tell, a good weekend was had by all. I’ll break it down faux point form for reader enjoyment, and not make you, my reader, slog through an unbearable slough of typos and sarcasm.

-The entire week was not too shabby, with an equal ratio of highs and lows. What should have been my last relaxing week for a –very- long time was entirely ruined by warring forces with my family. My car was in a dismal state of disrepair for a while, which then led to fiscal and monetary wars spurred on by my increasingly pathetic bank account. This, of course, led to me blowing a gasket and them pretending that I’m not a part of this family. All in all, I spent three days in Christine’s company, and abused her kind offer of a sofa and a futon for two consecutive nights. Today being mother’s day, we all kinda feigned happiness until the hostility was genuinely replaced by enjoyment of one another’s company. Ah, at last. I no longer feel as though my house is one giant high school and my parent’s are the cruelly exclusive “impossible to get into” clique. This is good.

-Thursday evening promised to suck, as anything that could go wrong did. I mean, first Christine and I very nearly had The First Fight after our reconciliation a million years ago. (It was avoided by the very adult tactic of “I feel this because you did that and…I’M SO SORRY, I LOVE YOU!!!!”. It was terrific.) And then there was a toxic spill on our only route to meeting with Jdot for a drink. So we were feeling kinda blue when we pulled into the old Fogg n Suds for a martini. Luckily, the conversation was awesome, and then we decided to gamble our bad moods away. On the way there, we did some –serious- rocking out to some old school Disney tuneage. And gamble we did! That girl is a good luck charm, honest to god. And to prove her mother wrong, we choose NOT to head home at 11:00. Instead, we decided to hang out in a seedy karaoke bar and play some horrific pool for a few hours. Then, when she could hardly blink anymore, we called it a night. After more rocking out. Which was awesome. Turns out even the toxic clouds have silver linings.

-Friday night was fun: a mellow evening of games and wine with the Giacomoni clan, followed by some snacks and a rather Zen viewing of Brother Bear. Well, half a viewing. We more or less fell asleep a quarter of the way through. Yes, I know. Two grown women couldn’t make it through a Disney film. It’s sad. I agree.

-Saturday night was far more fun. After dressing up in more then a ripped hoodie and half-done hair for the first time in damn near a month, we met up with Chelsey and headed to the Elephant and Castle Pub for an evening of drinking. I must say: each of us set out with our personal goals, and each one of us accomplished them. It broke down like this:

Christine’s Goal: Not too look too twitterpated when her beau showed up, and to have a good time in general. Mission Accomplished.

Chelsey’s Goal: To get “drunkity drunk drunk”. She discovered Espresso Martinis. Mission Accomplished. To say the least.

Keltie’s Goal: To learn how to flirt outside of a grade-school context. I’ve not been single since high school: how does this game work again? And get this: Mission Accomplished!!

-Yes, that’s right. I actually managed to be flirtatious, which isn’t surprising to my readers as they all know me, and well, I’m pretty straightforward. But would it shock and amaze you, dear readers, to learn this: I was aloof! I didn’t pursue!!! I was nearly ladylike! It was amazing. A step in the right direction, anyway.
As cliché as it is, I noticed this guy as soon as he came upstairs, but remained aloof, as I had earlier decided that it was much too much effort, and was about to lodge into some serious chain smoking action. But then, I saw my chance: I put on my best charming, flirtatious and non man-eating smile and went for it. I was aloof. I was sweet. I sucked at pool, and I laughed at myself. And I got a response. I also have a rendezvous next weekend. And I’m not the only one, which makes me quite happy.

-Which brings me to the present day, dear readers. The only thing left to report is that I have to be in bed before the sun sets, as I have to be up at the ungodly hour of 5am. I wasn’t aware that there was life before 9am, but according to Legacy Enterprises, there sure is. I have to be at work –perky, I might add- at a frightening 8am. *sigh* I hate travel time. Is it wrong to show up on your first day in a hoodie and sweats? Because 4 inch heels don’t sound like a world of fun at 6am….Whatever, here I go to complete my transcendence of my comfort zone. Wish me luck.


Thanks for making it through. You’re a star.

-K

Quote du Jour

“Hey I think you need an attitude adjustment
Knock-down drag out
I got to make myself a latitude adjustment
With or without”
-Steven Tyler

Zen and the Art of Shoe Shopping.

Now youthful one, you must hesitate at the threshold before entering, and ready yourself for the spiritual experience you are about to encounter. Three deep, cleansing breaths and take your first step toward the wonderment that lies before you.
Stop. Close your eyes. Feel the power of the shoes penetrate your every sense. The smell of the leather. Hear the various mantras that accompany those holy enough to enter your spiritual home: the sound of buckles and clasps. Wait for it, and…the scared sound of four inch stilettos clicking across the floor.
Open your eyes. Let then wander as you take in the sights. This is the aesthetic that will take you to Your Place. Let the shoe choose you as you rove over the many babies.
It calls to you. You follow it’s siren song. You pick it up. Feel the material in your hands. Accept its power over you. Ask the temple high priestess or priest for your own spiritual size. It comes to you. Fold back the protective sheath of it’s home, and slip it onto your perfectly pedicured biped. Feel it. Love it. Become one with the shoe.
Stand. Transcend your balance as you walk over to the mirror. It becomes a nearly voyeuristic experience. Vogue.
Nod the sacred nod, and utter the chat: “I’ll take them.”
As with all pathways to enlightenment, there are sacrifices. Skin, balance, comfort, and monetary goods will need to be parted with. Remember youthful one, it is all for a greater good.
Feel the weight of the sacred vestments as the priest or priestess solemnly passes you your new shoes. Breathe deep.
Woefully bid adieu to the remaining babies. Promise them that you will return, and give them an equally good home as your new ones.
Return home. Breathe deep. Prepare for the ultimate experience of true ownership and self satisfaction. Gently pull you new footwear from it’s home. Regard them as you would a miracle unfolding before your eyes. Admire them. Respect them.
Finally, the The Moment arrives. You slip them on your feet. Feel their power as they make your calves stretch, make your legs long, and make your arches do things they’ve only dreamt of.
Look in the mirror.
Nirvana.

Back in the proverbial saddle.

Man, is this going to hurt.

Today, my friends, I am taking the bull by the proverbial horns. I am going to conquer my fears, and strive outside of my comfort zone. I am going to obtain one of my set goals.

I am going to learn how to rollerblade.

You see, though I am a proud Canadian, I have done dreadful little secret: I never even learned to skate. You see, even living on the prairies, surrounded by frozen sloughs 8 months of the year, I never strapped on a pair of ice skates and went for a rip. Hell, I never even shuffled around with a chair. And so, as I grew older and less self conscious, I recently decided that it would be a brilliant idea to learn how to skate around on wheels. I no longer have a fear of the safety equipment mussing my hair, and I honestly couldn’t care less about looking like a jackass. So I petitioned Christine to help me learn (she’s already started, I couldn’t figure out how to lace the blades in the store.). After investing whopping $50 on blades, a helmet, kneepads, wrist guards, and elbow pads, she and I designated today at the “figure it out” day. And it’s funny. Most people I have talked to respond like this “Yeah, my buddy _____ broke his ______ while attempting to______ on blades. You’re going to have so much fun!!” Oh yeah? Thanks buckaroo. Excuse me while I tie a pillow around my ass with a rope and shuffle around with a chair in front of me while whimpering and muttering curses. *sigh*. I think it’ll be an experience, to say the least.

Look for the girl in the ER after tonight, folks. Still. I could think of worse ways to get there.

-K

Quote du Jour

Come easy, go easy, all right until the rising sun
I'm calling all the shots tonight, I'm like a loaded gun
Peelin' off my boots and chaps, I'm saddle sore
Four bits gets you time in the racks, I scream for more
Fools' gold out of their mines, the girls are soaking wet
No tongue's drier than mine, I'll come when I get back
-Steven Tyler

Lackluster Epiphany

I’ve just had an epiphany. I spent 3 years of my life believing in something that wasn’t real. It was an immaterial dream that I was foolish enough to believe I had obtained. I’ve recently come to terms with major aspects of the reality I ignored for three years. And let me tell you: It’s harsh.
I freed myself from the faux paradise I was ensnared in, only to stumble and make yet another foolish mistake. Again, I idiotically believed in something that was nothing at all. This compounded realization has left me spinning and disoriented.
Have I ever been correct? Or have I been walking in a dream world, playing the fool, smiling and thinking that I had it all when I was simply being manipulated? And have I ever truly been cared for? What exactly has ever been “real”? Words like “truth, honesty and reality” are too easily thrown around these days. They have been thrown into the realm of clichés, batted around in harlequin romances, and cheapened by formulaic Hollywood films. But to the root, the honest to God root: what has reality been for me? Was it better to believe a little bit of something imaginary then to have nothing in reality? And why exactly do I feel as though I’ve lost it all when I truly had nothing to begin with?

Quote du Jour

Now there's not even breathin' room
Between pleasure and pain.
-Steven Tyler

My cherry has been popped.

I’m just a sweet transvestite…
I have to say it now: Tim Curry is a godamn genius! The man runs –and I mean runs- in six inch heels. You godda have respect for a man who can do that. And he looks hotter in a corset and fishnets then I do. Okay, I’m aware that I said Bitch’s Brew was taking a hiatus, but I just can’t contain my joy of last night. Seriously, I want to go to RHPS every night for the remainder of my life. And I’m destined to go again in lingerie (meaning corset and guarders. It’s about all the action my “Exciting” wardrobe is going to see in the next few months anyway. *sob*). Moving on. So if that serves as any motivation to the plethora of fuckers who I invited and felt that they were too good for it, let me know.
Fuckers. (Minus those who had to return roommates pop cans for the deposit money to host a BBQ and purchase vices. I feel you, guys! Next time, for sure!)
Anyway, it was an amazing time. It was just hilarious. I can’t wait until October to play the whole game again. It’s gonna be …sexual.

In all other news, the weather had turned into shit and taken my mood hostage with it. I godda admit that RHPS did help turn that heavily lipstick-ed frown upside-down, but as soon as I got to my car and had to brush it of on May 1, 2005, I was kinda pissed again. Whatever.

Vent: I know that exams were awful and the stress level of the week has made people sick and cranky. But guess what honeys: you’re not special! We’re all students, we all work, and we ALL feel shitty. So stop acting like you’re so damn holier-then-thou and get with the program. Work and exams are no harder on you then it is on any other student, so suck it up. So many people are having a shitty time in their lives right now, and those who can’t accept that yes this time sucks, and yes we’re all going through a rough patch think that they should get some kind of special treatment. I’m here to say :you are wrong. You are no different. You are just dealing with it rather poorly. So quit having fucking temper tantrums and cope with stress on an adult level. (or go watch men and women in drag run around a theater until 2 in the morning. You know, whatever catharsis you see fit.)
In all happier news, I am truly done exams. I’ve been fighting off the temper tantrums far better then some people, and I have new and exciting different hobbies planned for the summer. I’ve already bought the materials to one of them-I’m going to be regretting this bad choice, I can clearly see. Whatever, it‘s going to be a world of fun.
Now that I have vented, I would like to thank those who have re-invested interest in Bitch’s Brew.
And if you’re sitting there wondering if you are the victim of my rant? You’re wrong-it’s a rant against the mindset that I’ve seen out of my colleagues lately. There is no one person, it’s a conglomeration of attitudes that I am ranting about. But if you find yourself wondering to whom I am referring/ getting pissed off about this blog? Perhaps it’s time for an introspective attitude adjustment. Just a tiny suggestion.

-K

Quote du Jour
“One...from the vaults!”
-Tim Curry

PS: Is it morally wrong to be attracted to a man who runs around in drag and sings about being a sweet transvestite? Because I would seriously do Tim Curry any day. Just an after thought.