A profoundly unremarkable insight into my life
I vaulted out of the shower, ripped the towel off of my hair, and swore as I realized that my hair was damp, regardless of my various attempts to maintain it’s dryness. As I lunged for my hair dryer, I knocked several bottles on my vanity out of place, which would usually of made me crazy and compulsive about straightening them up, but not this evening. This evening, I was going from gross to gorgeous in under 15 mins, and time was sitting back and laughing at me. See, I was going out with Geoff to meet a dear friend of mine for a drink, which usually calls for jeans and a random top, which can be dressed up or down with varying accessories. But last night when I saw him, I was looking rather euro-trashy in my beautiful ensemble of track pants and a tee shirt. Ah, laundry day. So I definitely felt the pressure of compensating for said slob look with a posh one. I’m not a multi-tasker until the situation demands it, but I managed to re-straighten my hair, put on half my face, find an outfit, and talk to Geoff on the phone whilst balancing precariously on my vanity attempting to apply mascara and focus on not sounding like I was doing anything whatsoever. It was awesome. Eventually I was ready to rock, but I was stuck on the shoes. Do I wear my hooker boots, or my sleek heels? I dunno, I dunno…only one option left. Assault my roommate. I half-heartedly knocked on his door as I barged in, balancing on my two differing options of footwear.
“Jordan!”
“What’s up, Kdot?”
“Okay, which one? The boots?” I thrust my right foot out for him to examine “Or the heels?” I did an ungraceful pirouette and thrust out my left leg. He looked at me as though contemplating the emotional ramifications of living with a crazy woman, and then slid his glance down to my footwear. I hopped and twisted as he seemed to ponder which actually looked better. He continued to look befuddled about woman’s footwear.
“C’mon, man. Geoff is going to be here in like, two minuets!”
He then looked up at me, with an expression of absolute decision.
“Know what I think you should do?
“No, what?”
“Well, you have to reverse it.”
“Come again?”
“You should totally put the boot on the left foot, and the heel on the right. It would be an amazing conversation piece.”
“JORDAN!” I fought the laughter that was welling up, and attempted to look serious. But my facial muscles were not behaving themselves. I contented myself with looking exasperated.
“Okay, okay.” He looked at my legs one last time, sighed, and said “Totally the heels.”
“The heels?”
“Yes. The heels”. It was his turn to look both amused and exasperated.
“Okay then!” I wobbled back to my room, flung off the offending boot, and put on the mate to my heels. I strode into our hallway to check out the finished product. Dammit, he was totally right, the heels do look better. Or do they? I waltzed back into his room without knocking.
“Jordan!”
“WHAT?”
“Are you sure?”
“YES!”
“Okay. Whatcha do’in?” I grinned as I knew I was being annoying.
“Watching Firefly.” There was little amusement in his exasperation now.
“Gotcha. Enjoy it, see ya later!”
“Bye Kdot” I heard as I ran back into my room to hunt for my keys. I laughed as I ran downstairs in my sleek and stylish heels to meet my sweetie, thinking about how remarkably different it is to be living with a guy.
My proverbial cup has runneth over
I want to make one thing perfectly clear: I am taking this precious 2am time of rest to post only because Chelsey yelled at me for dawdling so much with it. So here you are. Fucking pinko.
Anyway, all sarcastic yet endearing bitterness aside, greetings to y’all. It’s been a busy few weeks for me, as I’ve previously posted. Once again, I will convey this to you via point form ( as I am currently unable to articulate myself via expressive dance like J. Cameron, right girls?)
-Okay, so I’ll write a wee bit more about my condo. Other than the fabulous color scheme, it’s pretty nifty. (Nifty? The 1950’s called-they want their lingo back! Lame, I know.) I digress. It’s on the top floor of a lovely complex, and has many fantastic features, including a pool, hot tub, and game room. Or so I’m told, as I’m a git and have not yet checked out these features. It’s kind of like a Light Bright-you know you own it, and bask in the ownership more then the actual usage of it. What, you people don’t still have your Light Bright? Pfft. Losers. *averts eyes* Moving on. Jdot and I have a lovely large deck with a futon on it, which makes for very comfortable smoking time. Which comes in handy, as July 1st the “fresh air” act moves into effect, and we poor smokers are to be herded onto the street while being mocked and abused by these granola loving hippies. We also just obtained the final necessary appliance-a fantastic microwave. I’m so happy we have a microwave. I warmed up a muffin tonight. It was rewarding.
-Work is awesome. I am still torn between being a floral guru or a flower slave, but I think the complex dichotomy keeps it interesting. Yeah, I need to tell myself shit like that. But at least my boss isn’t a carny or a mercenary. This is an improvement.
-I’ve been running myself ragged with a bunch of different responsibilities. I had this vision of living on my own as enabling me to relax. Ha! Well, we all have our great illusions of independence. I’ve actually been spreading myself way too thin, and kind of had a minor meltdown this evening. Luckily, my knight in shining sarcasm came to my rescue, and after an hour of my venting, managed to make me feel significantly better about the entire situation. I’m not entirely sure how I’ve come this far in life without him, and am definitely happy that his constant presence is available to keep me grounded and make me relax. (you’re a lifesaver, sweetie-thank you.) I also had a mini-minor meltdown to my heterosexual life partner, and I must thank her as well. (I wouldn’t be NEARLY as neurotic without you; it’s much more fun with an audience).
-I had a great sushi dinner with my ladies tonight, and it was great to realize that we actually did have some good times in high school-even if they can’t be recalled by all, right CT? Anyway, it was good to see them all at the same time again.
Anyway kids, that’s it for right now. I wonder if tomorrow will being a slave or a guru? Well, time toss that coin. Let the Faits decide.
-K
Quote du Jour
“If Hitler had a bank, this would be it!” (about RBC and it’s sterile atmosphere)-Chelsey
Morality Trumps Money
So I’m thinking that y’all have been wondering where I have been hiding. Well, the truth of the matter, my friends, is that it has been a busy few weeks for me. Here’s the ultimate breakdown:
I moved out on my own! Whoo! Independence and terrifying liberation. I mean, this is huge. I love, -love- my condo. It’s beautiful, a true tribute to all the goodness that Ikea has to offer. It’s beautifully furnished (after an arm and a leg-I’ll be paying for this one for months to come!) and it’s just spectacular in ever way. I love my roomie, he’s perfect. I simply cannot say enough good things about him. It’s also a mere 7 mins from work, which bring me to my next major point;
I quit at Legacy Enterprises. Yes, I know, I loved it. But I happened to make a call one fateful afternoon to a gentleman who was actually familiar with the Alberta Government, seeing as how he worked for them. (this being the cosmic Them, as I have no idea who these people actually ARE. One thing is for certain- “they” have a LOT to say! Anyway, I digress.) I said my usual line to get past the “gatekeeper” (secretary/automatic complaints) “I’m actually licensed by the Alberta Government to come and speak with you. Epcore is as well, have they been out lately…?”, when he enlightened me that he did, indeed, WORK for the AB, and I was an illegal solicitor. Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Well, no shit, Keltie, anyone with a brain knew that!”. Well my friends, I sure as hell didn’t. I sat with this man for hours on end. In my head, I kept hearing my boss scream “Keltie, TIME IS MONEY! YOU MAKE YOUR OWN BUISNESS! YOU GET OUT OF IT WHAT YOU PUT INTO IT!” and so forth. I managed to put aside the clichés they managed to sell me on the actual idea, and listen to this man. And holy shit, he was right! I was just a filthy solicitor who could be sued at any moment! But I had to carry on with the work day, as I have a disgusting work ethic. I then went into a lovely little craft store just before Whyte’s main strip starts, called Blackberry County, or something equally as charming. She was thrilled to see me-she introduced me to her puppy (“Willow”) before asking me shat she could help me with…
“Actually, my name is Keltie, and I’m with Enmax Energy.”
Her lovely persona disappeared, as she boiled over with anger. All traces of the charismatic lady I had spoken with moments earlier about puppies and crafts had all but dissipated before my eyes. She was pissed off, and I knew it.
“I told you people, stop coming in here! You are nothing but a pain in the ass, and I asked to be taken off your list! They said they would! GET OUT!”
It was nothing that I hadn’t head before. But the knowledge that someone HAD recently been in my territory, that my boss had managed to “overlook” that fact, that I was an illegal solicitor, and that I was actually better of selling steak knives and vacuum cleaners was simply too much to handle. I looked up into her face, so honest yet swollen with conflicting emotions of anger and blame, and I decided that I had enough. I had not worked my ass off, and upheld the word integrity and all that it encompasses, to sacrifice it for a summer job. That’s when it hit me-it’s a fucking summer job. This is not my career. Fuck it! I may rock at what I do, but if I’m doing it under false pretences, then what integrity is there in that??? She misinterpreted my silence.
“I’m sorry,. I realize that it’s not personal. It’s just that You Guys have been out here before, and I’m busy…”
A typical line. I knew the “other” smooth line to get by it with. But she was actually apologizing for me bothering her in her own store! I snapped. No more. I’m better then this. I apologized, and started to leave. What does this fantastic woman call out after me?
“Give Murphy a kiss for me!”
Murphy is my puppy, my pride and joy. I had mentioned this as a business tactic??? What??? Okay. I’m done. I’m so fucking done. This woman is real, and I am nothing but a cheap, money-making facade. She told me, the Enmax Girl, to give my puppy a kiss for her, because there were no harsh feelings. Only issue was, there were harsh feelings. From me, towards my company. My only thought following this?
“Please, PLEASE. Don’t make me leave! Don’t make me go back out there! I’ve had enough! I quit, okay? I hate this! I hate it! I’m lying to GOOD people! Please, make me stop!”
What did I say?
“Yeah, no problem, someone will be back to you in 6 months with higher rates.”. Fear of loss. Typical business technique. I’ve never felt so dirty.
I left. I was distraught. I was angry with my bosses for making me feel that way. I realized that I had broken a promise to myself, and was compromising my integrity. Two seconds later, I caught a bus for the office, and turned in my notice asap. Fuck’em. I’m better then this. I have a hefty paycheque coming to me from all my work in Rimbey. I don’t want to pick it up. It feels like blood money. The morals are still fighting on that one, it’s worth several months rent, plus food. Hmmm…
So, I asked myself; “What makes me the happiest?”. Then I said to myself:
“Self. You have worked in a plethora of occupations. Have you ever felt so serene as you feel working with flowers?”
No.
Okay then. You know what to do.
So I applied at a floral shoppe. It was a lark, really. I didn’t take to seriously. Hey, guess, what?? They hired me! So I now work at Bunches Floral Shoppe in Southgate mall. The pay sucks, it's degrating, and I work looong days with some really stupid people. But you know what? My integrity is intact. And THAT is what matters. And always will. No matter what.
Quote du Jour
“If I hadn’t assembled myself, I would have fallen apart by now”
-Brandon Boyd
This gene pool could use a little chlorine
So I’m walking into Wal-Mart and its pouring. I get close to the doors, and this dude passes by me. This would be a spectacularly uneventful moment had he not turned around and passed this little gem on to me:
“Hey honey. You know you shouldn’t be walking around in the rain, right? Sugar melts, sweetheart.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, attempting to register this comment. Unfortunately, I do speak a little Moron, thusly leaving me no choice but to respond. But how to? If I don’t make a snappy comment in 3 seconds or less, this Darwin-candidate is either going to have the upper hand, or think I’m accepting this oh-so brilliant pick-up line. Both equally unappealing prospects. Think Keltie, think! But my knowledge of how to speak Moron is limited. My "drop dead" look will only be lost on something this totally vapid. My "fuck you" look will only serve as a coquettishly flirtatious response with this winner, I’m sure. Quick flashback to high school. Okay, got it. I opened my mouth and…laughed directly in his face. Ah yes! The sanctifying power of derisive laughter. He shuffles away with the sound of my taunting laughter echoing in his mind. I win!
Serves you right, Cro-Magnon. I mean, “sugar melts, sweetheart”??? Honestly!! What did he THINK was going to happen?
-K
Quote du Jour (literally)
“Hey honey. You know you shouldn’t be walking around in the rain, right? Sugar melts, sweetheart”.
- Vapid, moronic, Wal-Mart festisio.
Camping Disclaimer
I do have one thing to add, my fine readers. I said in my last post that I was not truly a fan of camping until this past weekend. I was referring more to the whole “grab your family and head off to the wilderness” type of camping. I am a big fan of camping if it involves my equally “princess” heterosexual life partner, Christine. She and I recently (and by recently, I mean last winter) made the communal purchase of a tent, for Christ sake. So I must reiterate: I am a fan of camping if it’s with the right company. And to be dead honest, she and I have much the same attitude towards all things yucky, so we get along famously when camping together. But Lord help us the second either of us crack a nail…
Quote du Jour
“i just want you to know how completely insulted i am. i just read your blog. what do you mean you dont like camping and didnt till this weekend? what the hell did we buy a tent for??”
-My heterosexual life partner, CT
Weekend Wisdom
Camping is jus tone of those things that I’ve never liked. I mean, honestly. Sleeping on the ground, eating off of sticks, being unhygienic, and fighting off mossies the size of your head, all the whiles repeating the mantra “I’m having fun, I’m having fun, I’m having fun…”. This has –never- appealed to me. That is, until this past weekend. I’ve learned some pretty significant lessons about camping, and in as such, about myself.
#1. There is no event whatsoever that can be truly rained out if you are in the right company.
#2. Rain makes you wet. Deal with it. Clothes dry.
#2. Dirt gets you dirty. Hang up the tiara and grab a whittling stick.
#3. The world really won’t turn its back on you if your hair goes curly and your makeup streaks.
#4. The ratio of fun to object size is allowed to be disproportionate when it’s your 6”6 buddy riding a child’s bike down a muddy slope into a lake. While his girlfriend points and laughs.
#5. Faux nails break, toenail polish chips, cover-up rubs off, hair goes into messy braids, and you can still look good if you smile and laugh at it.
#6. Never underestimate the power of a sunset.
#7. The lake will eventually feel warmer if you suck it up and stick with it.
#8. It is humbling to be outwitted by inanimate objects.
#9. Even a hole in the ground is a good bed if you’re happy.
#10. The amount of dirt accumulated varies inversely to the quality of your shower.
It truly was an inspirational weekend for this so-called princess. Maybe a princess with a secret love of grunge thrown in for zest.
-K
Quote du Jour
“I spent the majority of the night spooning with the root.”
-Jdot
