Bitch's Brew

Have You Seen This Person?

2007-05-21T16:35:00.001-06:00

Because I sure haven't.

And I would like to before she leaves the country.

I'm worried she might like it so much there that she'll never come back.

Update...ish

2007-05-10T13:56:00.000-06:00

You know, I really think that blogging is completely out of style. Seriously, it's now akin to neon bracelets and mismatched socks. Oh, and Cyndi Lauper. Though we all know that Cindy Lauper never truly goes out of style.

It seems that Facebook is the new black. Feel free to add me.

Anyway, here's bullet point updates:

-I am STILL in need of a roommate. Seriously. If you know anyone...let me know!

-I got my degree!! WHOO! I now have little initials after my name.

-I'm also on a job hunt. And I am so very, very...very under qualified for everything I've applied for. Sigh.

-Roomates. Ugh.

-fait accomplit is back on a roll! We're releasing a spring issue, and I hope to see all my nearest and dearest at my final fait accomplit release party ever.

K.

ATTENTION : ROOMATE WANTED

2007-04-13T11:04:00.000-06:00

Well everyone, after 2 years, Jordan has decided to jump ship and go live with his girlfriend.

As a result, I have a free room for rent. Here are some highlights of this building:

-Pool/Hot Tub/Sauna
-Rec room complete with Snooker table
- University convienent (7-10 mins)
-Approx 15-20 min commute to Downtown
-Close to the River Valley
-Address: 5125 Riverbend Road

Room for rent:
-Occupant would have own private bathoom, shower/bathtub
-Large storage space
-Med. sized California-styled bedroom (which means it is on the opposite end of the aprtment from the other bedroom)
-Located on the top floor of building complex
-Approx $380/ month (excluding Epcore and Shaw bills)

Other Perks
-Living room and Dining room, furnished.
-Large balcony (complete with futon!)
-Dishwasher/Garborator
-Little yellow bird named Turk
-Fabulous Roomates that like to watch movies, drink, hang out on the deck, and are just gernerally awesome.

If you or anyone you know is interested, PLEASE let me know! Tell all your friends!

10 Things I Hate About U...of A

2007-03-14T23:49:00.000-06:00

1. The total lack of realistically priced parking. The university is the size of a small city, and with all the mandatory ‘extras’ we pay in our tuition, there is absolutely no reason why the university can not accommodate students with substantial parking at economical, student-friendly prices.

2. The campus itself. As Albertans, we live in sub-zero temperatures 8+ months of the year. Several of these months fall within the school year. So will someone please explain to me why Arts students are stuffed into random classrooms all over the bloody campus, and given a mere 10 minuets to dodge bleary-eyed colleagues, engineering students with no social grace, blizzards, hung-over HUB/Lister occupants, retarded first-years AND the never ending campus construction as we run across campus to get to a second class? A campus that is roughly a quarter of the size of Manhattan with at least a third of the income should fucking well be able to come up with a heated, underground brother to the New York subway to be able to get to the imminently -to- be- condemned buildings that we Arts students are expected to learn in.

3. The employment of bullshit, off-the-boat profs who don’t speak a word of English, yet get offended when students are unable to communicate in clicks and whirrs.

4. The bullshit requirements for an Arts degree. Have I mastered the basic functions of the common calculator? Yes. Will I apply a semivariogram in my future career? Hell no. I can figure out tax, balance my chequebook, create a schedule, add tip, and even create a feasible budget. So why the fuck do I need to understand the basic principles of thermodynamics? How the hell does this have anything to do with an individual who is pursuing a career that stems from an Arts degree?

5. The curve. All grades are ultimately a result of university-demanded, prof-induced smoke and mirrors, anyway. Why bother creating a hostile environment with the inherent competition of the curve, while simultaneously asking ALL students for ‘University support and donations for the 2008 campaign”?? Go to hell. You already took enough of my money and made me hate my colleagues.

6. The jaded profs that get off with phrases like, ‘Yes, I realize that you just wrote your third 15 page paper with 37 peer-reviewed secondary sources in 24 hours. But your margins on page 12, paragraph 3 were 2.75 inches wide, and MLA demands a 3 inch margin. So you get a zero.’ What is it going to take to remind these profs that we are ultimately paying them?

7. The employment and academic acceptance of self-centered, academically perverted, undergrad-detesting, and inherently incompetent T.A’s. There is no applicable reason in this Universe why any T.A should be able to get away with email replies such as, ‘I am too busy writing my thesis to help you.’ And there is absolutely no excuse for a 6-week marking turnover. If you plan to devote your life to being a Prof in this fashion, perhaps you should take a look at yourself and realize what a shitty TA you are, take a pack of razor blades and expired pills, and make Darwin proud.

8. The fact that they can put man on the moon in the last century, but in this current one, cannot come up with a mall that supports any monetary exchange with the exception of primitive cash. Despite the fact that the university is willing to bend you over and anally rape you with tuition, they cannot provide outlets in HUB to accept Visa, Mastercard, AMEX, Debit or first born children. Though the latter option might be taken a little too seriously by the first years who occupy Lister. ‘No, your filthy unwashed bastard child cannot pay your tuition, but it will get you a 2 for 1 deal at Avenue Pizza. Be sure to bring your punch card next time.’

9. The pretentious assholes who occupy every good seat in the Powerplant, RATT, HUB, Humanities, and every other Arts-related hangout. No, you have not read the complete works of Foucault, you have no fucking idea what Derrida was ‘really’ saying, and you have no idea what Neoimperialism, Post structuralism, or Orientalism actually means. See my above advice for useless T.A’s and follow suit.

10. The hassle that is Beartracks, Bearscat, Web CT and every other bureaucracy-related fucked up, bullshit design that the University comes up with to ‘make our lives easier’ but in reality takes twice as long, is constantly unavailable, reports incorrect grades, responses, and provokes me to write these exact rants.

I invite all my U of A friends to join the fray. What 10 things do you hate about the University?

Introducing today's procrastination tool...

2007-03-08T16:32:00.000-06:00

1. What do you wish you had been named? Something that rolled off the tongue easier than ‘Keltie’. And that I wouldn’t have to repeat seventeen times when I introduce myself.

2. What is the nickname most people call you? Kelt

3. Do you plan to change your name when you get married? Yeah, but only because I don’t like what Fisk represents.

4. If you could become any age you wanted, right now, what age would it be and why? 25. It’s acceptable to have a career but still watch cartoons.

5. Why is (insert your favorite color here) your favorite color? RED! Because its vibrant and stunning.

6. If your first choice of careers doesn't work out, what would you choose as a "backup”: Yeah, I had better figure that out realllly quick.

7. What holiday could you easily do without? Family day.

8. Assuming you have a crush on somebody, what is it exactly that you like about him/her? If you don't have a crush, what is the one quality that the person absolutely has to have? Well, I have a pretty big crush on a certain someone. And I love his sense of humor.

9. What singer or band can you imitate the best? Is there a band named Dying Cats?

10. If your life were a book, what genre would it be? What about it's rating (G, PG, etc)? Fiction/comedy. Rated R for bad language and graphic nudity.

11. Do you worry about finding your soul mate and getting married? Nah.

12. If you could choose how to die, how would you? Of old age.

13. If you were the opposite sex for a day, would you have sex with somebody of the same sex that you used to be (ex: if you're a girl and turned into a guy for a day, would you have sex with a girl, and vice versa for guys), and why/why not? I would have sex with a girl, because I’ve always wondered what sex feels like for a guy.

FAVORITES
Type of chocolate: Bountiful.
Eye color: Green
Dog breed: Any puppy at all.
Period in history: 16th Century
Word to use when you want to sound smart: ‘clearly’
Candle scent: Green Apple
Method of communication (in person, telephone, etc): In person, over java
Language: One that I can understand, preferably.
Famous painting: Nighthawks by Edward Hopper
Weather: Sunny with a slight breeze
Summer activity: Drinking on the deck
Winter activity: Skiing
Computer game: Riven!!
Boredom-buster: I’m never bored.
Newspaper comic: Man, I have no idea. It’s been a loong time since I read the paper.
Section in a bookstore: Mystery
Sex/romantic scene in a movie: The brief moment in Gone with the Wind when Rhett rescues then promptly abandons Scarlet, but before he leaves her, he grabs her and kisses her. I like that she’s feisty enough to try and fight him off, but eventually submits. It’s a good kiss.

OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU KNOW (NOT JUST YOUR FRIENDS)

The one you can stand for the longest amount of time: Geoff
Wears the funkiest socks: Chelsey
The activist: Jessica
The most boy (or girl) obsessed: Shaun
The horniest: See above
The one who you wouldn't care if they disappeared from the face of this earth: Penny. In fact, I would like to remove her from the earth myself.
The best musician: Mike
The overachiever: Chelsey
The worst taste in music: Carissa.
Needs a life: Christine. She works too much.
You absolutely couldn't live without: Geoff
The best singer: Mike . He’s incredible.
The most expansive vocabulary: BARB CARTER...(and then me)
Has the niftiest house: Again, me.
Has the prettiest handwriting: Kari Trogen.
Talks way too much: Chelsey
The one you truly worry about: Jesse
Never gets sick, damn them: Chelsey. Unless milk or meat is involved.

EITHER/OR
Elvis or Madonna? Elvis.
Green or red? Red!
Sci-fi thriller or trashy romance? Sci-fi all the way!
Martial arts or yoga? Yoga. I like to be bendy.
Lollipop or Hershey's Kiss? Today, lollipop.
When you sleep, bedroom door open or closed? Closed, always.
Jacket or sweatshirt? Sweatshirt.
Particularly Jordan’s Hurley hoodie. I stole it 2 years ago and play dumb when he asks for it back.
Radio or CDs? CD’s.
Recliner chair or cushion on the floor? Cushion on the floor. I’m odd that way.
Bunk bed: top or bottom? Top
Handwriting or typing? Typing.
Chicken Soup: the book or the food? Neither.
Ballet or jazz? Jazz

IMAGINED SITUATIONS
1. If babies could talk at birth, what do you think would be the first thing they say? “What’s with all the screaming?”

2. If you could read minds, would you enjoy knowing what people were thinking, or would breaching their privacy bother you? Would you consider it a burden to know everyone's innermost thoughts? I would totally love to read everyone’s minds. And no, not a burden so much as a source of creepy power.

3. Do you think you could survive in the Middle Ages? I would probably do better there then I do here, actually.

4. If you knew as a little kid what you know now, what one situation would you choose to do differently? I would say, ‘No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

5. If you were given the choice to know exactly when, how, and where you would die, would you choose to know? And if you did choose to know, would you try and cheat death?. Nah, I like the element of surprise.

6. If you got pregnant (guys, just play along) before you were ready, what would you do? Would you ask your parents for help, or keep it from them? This is the stupidest question I’ve ever read.

7. Do you think you would enjoy being the opposite sex for the rest of your life? What would be so enjoyable/hellish about it? I like being a girl, but I imagine that it would be a hell of a lot easier to be a guy.

8. If someone came up with an elixir that made you immortal, would you take it? Would I take it? Only if it was fizzy and blue. I just can’t reject a fizzy blue drink. Otherwise, no.

9. Does the thought of being a vampire appeal to or disgust you? It appeals to me more then it should, actually.

10. If you were given magickal powers to do just one thing, what would you do (besides giving yourself unlimited magickal powers)?.Invisibility, providing I could make things turn invisible when I touched them. Think about the possibilities.

11. If you could go back into history and change one thing only, what would you change? I saw that Simpson’s Halloween special. No way do I want Flanders to rule the earth. I wouldn’t mess with anything!

Your turn!

Fairmont Photos

2007-02-25T20:43:00.000-06:00

We had a fabulous time relaxing in Fairmont over reading week. Thanks to Chelsey for making the week so much fun for both me and for Geoff.

Fun in Fairmont

2007-02-19T23:20:00.000-06:00

...or perhaps drunken goodtimes in Fairmont!!

So here we are! Chel, Geoff and I are currently enjoying supreme inebriation in Fairmont, B.C. We stumbled across wireless internet, and Chelsey packed her laptop. Synopsis? This has been awesome!! Not only did I get to experience amazing vacation sex (Chel was napping...ahem..cough cough *averts eyes...*) but we bought two 2'6's of rum and a few bottles of wine, then decided it wasn't enough and stumbled BACK to the liquor store. Then I opened a wine cork with my teeth. Oh yeah. I'm classy. You can dress her up...

Anyway, we are having a lot of fun. How is everyone else's reading week going? I will post pics as soon as I have some decent ones. Geoff and I are going skiing the day after tomorrow. That should have some good pictures to it!!! Plus any drunken shenanigans we might get ourselves into.

READ MAGIK BEANS EVERY THURSDAY!!! If you are an avid reader, you already know the website and have added it to your list of Favorites . If not, look at my last post and get over there! Mike is an amazing writer, give it a gander!

K.

Quote du Jour
'I need alcohol to remedy this situation...I cannot beat this shitfuck...bullocks....'
-Chelsey * in reference to Spyro*

2 posts in 2 days?? Its Magikal.

2007-02-13T13:24:00.000-06:00

Once in a while, among the ads for porn and free software that is inherently virus-ridden, you stumble across a gem on the Internet. Such a gem was invented by a good friend of mine, Mike. He has created a serial that is absolutely fabulous, and it is updated every Thursday. He’s a very talented writer, and I strongly suggest you check out his work.

The story of a coffee shop, the literature major who manages it, and the adventures that result from growing an axis mundi in a flower pot where the bonsai tree you got last Christmas died. Updated Thursdays.

http://magikbeans.blogspot.com/

This carries the Keltie seal of approval.

K.

Colourful Purgatory

2007-02-12T13:19:00.000-06:00

Does anyone even check to see if I’ve updated anymore?

Well, here’s a shock for my loyal readers. Thank you for having the optimism that I would, in fact, live to blog again. And this is really all because of Chershey, who has inspired me to blog as she has blogged twice and I’m a huge slacker. That, and I miss the Goth club, and secretly hope that Kathrine or Kris occasionally drop by.

The reason that I haven’t blogged is because my life has been the definition of shit lately. My parent’s divorce has gone from murky waters to radioactive waste, and I am right in the middle. I freaked out on Friday morning around 4.00am and wrote them both a huge email that pretty much said, ‘leave me the fuck alone, I can’t handle this with you two, you both suck at life’. I haven’t heard back. I’m okay with it.

For the first time in history, I am also unemployed. See, I was working at Curry Fix, where I loved it. Unfortunately, my boss loved me a little too much, and one night after close…well, he tried to dip the pen in the very unwilling company ink. I got out just fine, but between my parent’s nasty divorce and sexual harassment/minor assault, I can’t say that I got out trauma free. But at least I don’t smell like curry any more.

So all this has compounded with the fact that I have only one class that is the obstacle between me and my degree, and I fucking hate it. I hate the university, I hate the class time, I hate the labs, I hate the class days, I hate my classmates, and I especially hate the fact that I shouldn’t even be there, and had I of gotten 2 more answers correct on my stats final in August, I would have my fucking degree and working in the real world. If I was working, I wouldn’t have my father saying things like, ‘You are a huge financial burden, and I resent it.’ LOVE YOU TOO, DAD.

In an ironic twist, I particularly like the prof that I have for this class.

Anyway, after I hit rock bottom and found out what true depression is actually like, I decided that I’ve had enough. I told off my parents, reported my (now ex) boss to the Alberta Human Rights and Citizenship Commission, made and appointment with a shrink, and decided to buckle down and study. Which brings us up to date. Keltie is back, and she’s pissed off that she was gone for so long. I’ve let other people control my feelings for waaay too long, without even realizing it! How did I even let that happen?

Anyway, not all is doom and gloom. Some pretty cool things have happened. I cut off more then a foot of hair in January, and I still really like the resulting cut. If I have any half decent pictures, I’ll post ‘em. Did you know that if you cut off more then a foot of hair, you can donate it to wigs for cancer? I was all ‘yay, I can help someone out!’ till I got told that I had dye in the hair I had just cut off, and they couldn’t donate it. What the fuck??? Just toss it in a vat of peroxide and re-dye it whatever colour the person wants! Seriously. What a retarded rule.

Also, Geoff and I have smooth sailings on calm seas. In fact, he’s been incredibly supportive through this difficult time. Plus, we ‘get’ each other, which I think is pretty fabulous. Last night he and I were out smoking , and this was our conversation:

K: Do you realize that it’s been forever since we had a fight?
G: Yeah, I guess that’s true. Why do you suppose that is?
K: I don’t really know.
*pause*
WHY DO YOU GODDA BE LIKE THAT? YOU BIG JERK! WHY DO YOU GODDA DO THOSE THINGS THAT MAKE ME SO MAD! I HATE YOU!
G: pffft. *mutters* Bitch.
K: *pushes Geoff into the wall* Hey, hey hey. Watch it, buddy.
*laugh. Kiss.*

And scene.

Anyway, the point is that we’re getting along famously. Oh, and we just bought a fantastic new mattress. Its so soft that it feels like a gigantic hug for your body. Its awesome.

I have a mid-term this week that involves a lot of math, but on the plus side, then comes reading week. Geoff, Chelsey, me and maybe Dale are all going up to Fairmont, just like we did last reading week. There will be relaxation and goodtimes abounds. I’m pretty psyched.

Oh! And Turk is less bitey and more loving. He’s getting better with the hop ‘n fly, as well as steering as he falls downwards. He just warbles happily to himself all day. And yes, he is still totally obsessed with his own reflection. I love my narcissistic bird so much.

But now I shall go study for that pesky mid-term.

K.

Cuatro más bebidas, por favor. ¡Gracias!

2006-12-27T13:11:00.000-06:00

Hola everyone! At some point I will blog about the drunken week I spent with my mother in Mexico. But for now, pictures will have to tell a thousand words.

There are no adequate words...

2006-12-11T11:19:00.000-06:00

This was the best Aerosmith concert of my life ladies and gentlemen, and let me remind you that I’ve been to many.

The energy was strong, and the crowd went totally nuts over it. The band did a fantastic job, incomplete as it was. Tom Hamilton is at home recovering from radiation treatment for throat cancer, and his stand-in was ‘John B”, who did a fantastic job.

And for the record, Motley Crew put on one hell of a show. Best opening act ever.

Since I’ve read that few things piss of the band like fans sneaking in cameras and recording devices, I decided to respect that and not smuggle in my lovely camera. Also, I was damn sure there would be purse checks, and I really didn’t want to lose it. Anyway, because Aerosmith loves the fans who love them, they post pictures of each individual concert on their site.

When they played ‘Seasons of Wither’ I fucking lost it. Its my favorite song of all time, and after the magical moment had passed, I had to sit down. It was amazing.

I would love to write more, but I have a wee final today for which I have to go cram.

It was just the most fabulous concert ever.

It was worth every cent I spent on the ticket and more. I loved every second of it.

Chrismukah

2006-12-03T13:08:00.000-06:00

Friday evening was tree decorating at Casa Fisk, Gledhill & Abel. I think the guys eventually enjoyed it, even though I made them turn off "Alien vs. Predator" for the billionth time. I had made a Christmas cd on the fly since I didn’t know that channel the burning log was on (its channel 18 for those of you who don’t know. I found it the next day.) and we listened to classic Christmas music while we put up the tree and decorated it not only with store-bought decorations, but homemade ones as well.

We hung our personalized stockings, chatted, drank rum and eggnog and watched the Christmas episode of “Scrubs”.

I’m so ready to get my Christmas on. I’m even completely done all of my shopping. Whoo!

Oh yeah. What a beautiful tree!

Christmas Trivia

The average American takes six months to pay off holiday credit-card bills.

Pogonophobia: the fear of beards.

There are currently 78 people named S. Claus living in the U.S. -- and one
Kriss Kringle.

December is the most popular month for nose jobs.

Weight of Santa's sleigh loaded with one Beanie Baby for every kid on
earth: 333,333 tons.

Number of reindeer required to pull a 333,333-ton sleigh: 214,206 --
plus Rudolph.

Average wage of a mall Santa: $11 an hour. With real beard: $20.

To deliver his gifts in one night, Santa would have to make 822.6 visits
per second, sleighing at 3,000 times the speed of sound. At that speed,
Santa and his reindeer would burst into flame instantaneously.

There. Chew on that for a while!

K.

Update

2006-11-29T13:34:00.000-06:00

Many, many thanks to all those who are worried about me. You guys rock.

I am feeling much, much better since the "incident." My neck muscles are still sore and I still don't have 100% feeling back in my face. But every day it gets better, and I'm not stupidly medicated anymore.

My mum was damn worried about me, and decided that I am clearly too stressed out. So she surprised me, and my christmas gift is a trip to Mexico!! So she and I are going to an all-inclusive resort on Dec. 15th and returning on Dec. 22nd. I cannot wait!

Doesn't this look awesome??

Anyway, Here are some of the pictures from our night of hedonism (last Sat night)

Clearly this is where the trouble started...

The trouble continues...

Note the empty 2-6.

Isn't he a handsome man?

This is Turk's favorite perch.

K.

My Story

2006-11-24T12:35:00.000-06:00

In the heavyweight wrestling match of Keltie vs. Reality, Keltie was struck down by her opponent, and struck down hard.

****

See, it all started on Saturday, really. Geoff and I were supposed to have a quiet night in. Then he got a new computer, which any female can tell you, replaces the girlfriend for at least 48 hours. So Christine called, and we decided to get some Christmas shopping out of the way, and enjoy a bottle of wine in the evening. Christine came over and we went Christmas shopping. While out, Holly called, distraught. “Well, come on over tonight” I insisted, “We’ll have a drink or two.” “Oh, it will be more then a drink or two” Holly responded. Ever heard of obvious foreshadowing? Well, had this been a movie, cue the ominous thunderclap right about there.

Fast forward several hours. Geoff is tinkering way at his computer while the girls are sitting in our room drinking, talking, and wrapping gifts. Geoff was happily sitting in the living room, nursing a beer. Meanwhile, Holly is drinking several coolers. What are Keltie and Christine doing? Drinking Cyclone and Diet Pepsi. Doubles, short. I’m sure everyone else can see where this is heading.

Fast forward several more hours still. We all start doing shots. Pornstars.

Fast forward a half and hour. Only the girls are doing shots.

Fast forward fifteen minuets. Only Keltie and Holly are doing shots, and these shots are ‘two and a half’. Yeah.

Scene missing. Scene missing.

Keltie pukes her brains out. All over the place. Violently.

Fast forward to morning. Everyone mocks the mortified Keltie, who spent the next 18) hours (and $17.00 in coins) washing sheets, comforters, pillowcases, comforter covers. Keltie understandably feels like shit, as she has not only humiliated herself, but also managed to throw her neck out in a pretty embarrassing way. So she keeps this fact quiet.

Hilarious, right? Yeah. I wish the story ended there. Let me tell you what comes next. Its not so hilarious.
****
Well, my neck was seriously hurting all Sunday, which everyone attributed to throwing up and sleeping in the drunken fetal position. I don’t recall sleeping like that, but clearly my memory is not the one to rely on in this situation.

All Monday is spent popping ibuprofen and exceeding the maximum dosage. By this point, I realize that I must have really pulled out my neck muscles, but chalk it up to a bizarre drunken story. I go to work ignoring the dull throbbing ache. Godda make a living, right?

Monday night is seriously uncomfortable. My restlessness is met with minor irritation from Geoff, as he is being kept awake by the aftermath of my painful drunken binge. An awkward and sleepless night for us both. I once again exceed the maximum dosage of Ibuprofen. Twice.

Tuesday I’m cranky and the dull throb in my neck in now accompanied by a sharp stabbing pain every so often. All evening Geoff and I discuss the possibility of a pinched nerve and possible slow healing muscle from Saturday night. I am now impervious to the effects of ibuprofen and sleep with a magic bag to ease the throbbing.

Wednesday morning at 3.00am. My neck pain wakes me up. Something is seriously wrong.
****
I begin to panic as I take inventory of my symptoms. Massively painful neck. Not only painful but stiffness. The skin at the back of my skull feels as though it has a million small shards of glass embedded in it, and every movement is agony. Strangely, my ear is aching in a pretty painful way, and it’s dark, but I feel as though I was only wearing a contact lens in my left eye. I woke Geoff, trying to remain calm, and asked him to re-heat my magic bag and get me some painkillers. He’s worried, and we discuss the possibility of him driving out to a 24 hour shoppers and getting some extra strength back meds. Its -27 with a windchill, and it’s likely just a pinched nerve.

It’s during this conversation that I realize the right side of my tongue is numb. I vocalize my Meningitis concern, and he points out that if that were the case, he would have gotten sick by then. He asks if I want him to drive me to the ER anyway. I feel foolish for jumping to this absurd conclusion, and decide to just get some rest.

Wednesday around 8.00am, Geoff makes himself late for work as he goes out and gets me some pain medicine. I take it gratefully and hope it works. At this point I feel as though the pains are getting worse, but I ignore them and go to sleep.

Around noon the extreme sensitivity to light and sound kicked in . I realized that I am not improving, decided to seek medical attention. Medicenter. After this proves foolish, I do what every scared young adult does. I called my mother.

After seeking decent medical attention from people who aren’t idiots (Capital Health Link), I am informed that I am in fact a moron and should have gone to the ER at 3.00am when the pain started. Get there in the next hour. This is not something to mess with.

Okay then.

****
Mum picks me up and drives me to the ER. At this point I am nearly positive that I am suffering from a migraine. I needed her to lead me into the wing, as I could not open either of my eyes to the glaring whiteness of the snow.

The ER is packed with people. And I mean packed. There were people groaning in pain, people twisting and writhing on the floor, and one woman in handcuffs who verbally assaulted everyone in her vicinity while dripping blood from a head wound and ignoring the exasperated looking cops who tried to shut her up. Awesome.

I resister, and get told that there is an expected 9 ½ hour wait. Thanks, Alberta. This is awesome. My pain is getting worse, and I just want to go home.

Surprisingly, the triage nurse saw me rather quickly. She assessed me, and quickly sent me off to the actual registration for my little wrist band. It occurred to me that things seemed to me moving rather fast, but am in too much pain to care.

While waiting in line at the registry, the lady in front of me is rushed in via ambulance with severe chest pain. I let her go in front of me, which for some reason earns glares from all the nurses that seem to be watching me. I mentally tell them all to go fuck themselves and pull Geoff’s toque back over my eyes.

I get to registry. The lady takes all my info, and tells me that I have a high triage number and that they are currently trying to find me a bed. Mum tries to lead me away, but I am still trying to process this through my pain fuzz. I know something is up, and am going to find out, come hell or high water. I go back to the window.

“Um, excuse me. You said I have a high triage number, Out of curiosity, what is it?”
“Well…she assessed you at a two.”
“Oh. Out of what?”
“Six”
“That’s not high!”
“Um….S.T.A.R.S Ambulance rates a one. That lady in front of you with chest pains? She’s a three.”
“Oh. Fuck.”
“Yeah. Go sit down.”

I waited a mere two and a half hours to receive my ‘immediate’ emergency care. But, I didn’t have to wait 9 ½ hours, and they got me onto a stretcher. I was just grateful to be able to out of the waiting room and somewhere quiet where I could lie down. They even turned out some of the lights for me.

I saw a million nurses and described my symptoms a thousand times. I eventually got to see a doctor.

She checked me out pretty thoroughly. It was at this point that I realized that my entire right side, from my forehead to my chest, was completely paralyzed. Spooky.

The diagnosis? Sorry to disappoint you, but I can’t actually remember what it’s called, nor can I recall a lot about this point. I was passing in and out of consciousness. She told me what I had. The pain was getting more and more intense, and I was fed up with doctors and mumbo jumbo. I looked at her and poignantly inquired, “What the fuck is that?” (which earned me a smack from my mother). Luckily she was young and not quitet jaded yet, because she laughed, pulled the curtain, and told us what I had in layman’s’ terms. I can recall two quotes from this conversation.

“Its midway between a very severe migraine and a stroke. And its only cause is stress.”
“We’re not supposed to swear in here. But I can tell you it hurts like hell.”

She told me I had to stay for observation overnight, which caused me to have a cow. She saw that I was quite upset by this information, and agreed to treat me first, then see if I had to stay.

The treatment seemed innocuous enough. But it wasn’t. It was pure hell. First of all, the inept nurse messed up getting the iv needle in, causing blood to spray all over the iv stand, my blankets, the curtain, her and myself. She got frustrated and, obviously having worked only with cadavers, just started shoving. I began to cry (hey, it really hurt. It was in my wrist) and she went to fetch another nurse. This one was less of a moron, and when she came in the first thing I said was “I’m a registered blood donor, and this is the vein you will be using.” She looked at me and said “Okay. Breathe deep. Poke!”

It was in, and the crap was running through my veins. Suddenly, I wigged right out. Seriously, I went from emotionally fine to just freaking out, all Poltergeist style. I don’t recall this part at all, but apparently I was yelling at everyone, screaming at the nurse who mangled my arm when she walked by, yelling at my poor mother, crying about the iv and how I just wanted to go home, and trying to yank the iv out of my arm. Apparently I returned to sanity long enough to get two words out to my mother.

“Hot. Itchy.”

She (correctly) assumed that I was having a bad reaction to the meds, and ran to find the doc. I freaked out, writhed, and had to be held down by two nurses till the doc came back in and administered some sort of sedative. I calmed right down, looked around, and inquired as to why everyone was staring at me like I was the devil. The doc told me that one out of every fifty adults are allergic to the pain medication she had administered, and I was that lucky person. I laughed and told her that I felt stoned, and I wasn’t as sensitive to light anymore, so I was okay with it. I even apologized to Nurse Ratchet the next time she scurried by. She was still scared of me.

Anyway, everything past that is a stoned blur. It felt awful, I drifted in and out of sleep, which is tough to do when you have to keep your arm perfectly straight. At this point, I was so exhausted that it didn’t matter. All I know is that I got to come home, and that the pain had eased.

****

So here I am. I’m still in pain, but it gets better each day. I still have lingering pain in the right side if my neck that flares up whenever I get stressed out about something, and light still kinda bugs me. But I’ve made a few decisions.

I have to chill out. To have a nervous breakdown at age 22 is disgusting, and its obviously a pretty big sign that I need a life change.
I’m quitting my job. Yes, it is just a retail job, but I am getting rid of all the extra stressors that I can. I will live off my student line of credit and get myself mentally healthy.
I am going to start using an outlet of some sort. I’ll write or take yoga or do something that isn’t just ignoring it like I have been. I’ve been taking on all the recent stress in my life (you guys know what I’m talking about) and assuming that I can handle it.
I’m going to stop ignoring the warning signs. The grey hair, the hand tremor, the nightmares, and even that one night of binge drinking. Its time to get real and get healthy.
I have to stop living in my head and taking on other people’s burdens. I love my friends and family, but being too involved took its toll, and I am not willing to do that again.
I will realize and practice the fact that school is not life. Its just school. A few bad grades does not mean that my life is over. Its just a bad grade.

Anyway, that is my story. If nothing else I hope that you, the reader, learns from my mistakes. Life really is too short to get so stressed out.

K.

Regan Smash

2006-11-13T11:42:00.000-06:00

So I had an entire long weekend to write two research essays that are both due in the next few days, and I decided to blow off the responsibility every time. I dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed, sold bras and panties, read fascinating blog entries of friends that update even less then I do, Drank with Chershey at RATT, played with Turk, got drunk and watched family guy with Geoff and Jordaroo, and at one point just lay on my bed and contemplated the meaning of life for a while. (I settled on fish and 42 as an answer and went to go smoke. It was satisfying.) In fact, I even vacuumed out my entire car, cleaned all the plastic bits, and went so far as to use a nail tool to pry out all the junk and grossness that has fallen in all the tiny crevices of the car in the last 4 years. I also washed it, changed my all-season tires to winter tires (by all season, they obviously mean all seasons EXCEPT the deadly one) then waxed and polished it by hand.

I’m sure someone will give me a degree for doing all that, right?

So now I’m sitting here in front of my computer, the clock ticking away, surrounded by unopened research books…and I’m blogging. I’m simply really, really sick of school. Whoo, I have to write yet another paper that doesn’t matter, write another test of knowledge that is not applicable to everyday life, and remember facts and dates of useless things that happened a billion years ago.

“Hey Keltie, did you hear about the latest news in Baghdad?”
“No, I was too busy learning what Joan Brumburg had to say about female body image in the 1930’s. Why? Is there a war or something?”

Seriously. There had better be a pot of gold at the end of this academic rainbow or I’m going to be pissed right the fuck off.

And now, pictures to distract you from how jaded I am.

Oh, and by the by. In a totally unrelated topic, I read possibly the most offensive and hilarious book of all time. I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell by Tucker Max. Its too amazing for words. All I can say is that I had tears streaming down my face from laughing so hard. This book should come with a surgeon general's warning.

You can read a selection of his short stores as well as purchase said book, if you feel so inclined, at his incredible website.

http://www.tuckermax.com/

Here is the ditty on the back of his book/website:

My name is Tucker Max, and I am an asshole.
I get excessively drunk at inappropriate times, disregard social norms, indulge every whim, ignore the consequences of my actions, mock idiots and posers, sleep with more women than is safe or reasonable, and just generally act like a raging dickhead.

It was so worth the $25. I highly reccomend you read The Famous "Sushi Pants" Story on this website (of course, it is also in the book) to see if you agree with me. This was the story that sold me forever on Tucker Max.

K.

Quote Du Jour
"Sweetie, buy me a PhD. Thanks honeybunch."
-Chelsey

Introducing....

2006-10-27T19:01:00.000-06:00

My dear friends, meet the newest addition to our family... Turk!!

Geoff is only mildy weirded out with the sudden bird in our house. And me pointing him out to Turk saying things like "See that man? See daddy?".

So far his hobbies include sitting on me, watching television on top of the remote, being facinated by my bobby pins, and trying to drink our beer from the bottle. Only 5 weeks old, and he's already stealing booze from us!

Isn't he a cutie?

My AMAZING cousin Meg bought him for me. Best gift ever!!!!

Maybe sometime I'll do a real post. Cheers!

K.

Palindrome Fun!

2006-10-18T16:06:00.000-06:00

This is me on the morning of my 22nd birthday. Do I look any older?

Anyway, thanks to all those who have helped make this day awesome. You all know who you are!

K.

Attention Everyone

2006-10-11T23:03:00.000-06:00

I FUCKING HATE WOMEN'S STUDIES!!!!!!

That is all.

K.

Makeover, Makeover

2006-09-24T15:50:00.000-06:00

Welcome to the new and not so improved world of Keltie’s Blog!

Anyway, it has been an interesting couple of weeks. I’ve been getting into my classes, bitching about women’s studies to anyone who will listen (what a complete waste of my time. Seriously, it is a total gong show), and most importantly, GETTING READY FOR THE NEW FAIT ACCOMPLIT SEASON! That’s right my friends, fait accomplit is once again upon us. And here is the typical Keltie push for all my talented friends to get involved:

Submit Yourself

fait accomplit is a cooperative work produced by graduate and undergraduate students in the University of Alberta’s Comparative Literature program to publish critical works, rants, photography, poetry and prose.

Submit your best work to us by Friday, October 13thin Word or JPEG format to: faitaccomplit@yahoo.ca

Bring hardcopies to 1-59 Humanities, mailbox 1-53For more information, check out

http://www.uofaweb.ualberta.ca/complit/

C’mon! Get yourself published! You get to be artistic and pompous, how can you possibly go wrong?

It’s a great deal of work and I will likely be bitching about it all semester, but God help me, I love it.

Anyway, more later. Adios!

-K

You wanna rumble?

2006-09-04T11:35:00.000-06:00

Why do I even have a blog??

Okay, I’m a huge slacker. I’ve been busy, all right? I’ve been learning how to cook! Boo-yeah. Thus far, I’ve made a few successful dishes, some with chicken and one with beef! I have some chicken breasts marinating right now, I’m so psyched that I know how to make/use a marinade. This is the girl who fucked up kraft dinner, okay? And a week ago I was basting my white wine chicken with a honey glaze. HA!!! Anyway, if you’re wondering what prompted this whole ‘Keltie is learning how to cook’ venture, I decided that since I clearly suck at stats, I had better tackle something else that I suck at and master it. I mean, I’m still scared that I might poison Geoff or out and out slice my hand off (Jordan cringes when I cut up veggies. In fact, yesterday he outright refused to watch because he was convinced that I was going to slice my thumb off. I showed him, though. All appendages are intact!) but overall it’s a nice feeling of accomplishment to learn how to cook.

Our Epcore bill is outrageous. The price of gas is outrageous. The price of decent food and groceries is outrageous. The price of my textbooks is outrageous. It seems like the only numbers that aren’t increasing are the ones on my paycheques. I can’t wait till I’m done school.

I’ve been feeling scrappy lately. There’s this girl who works with Geoff, and she has proven to be the thorn in everyone’s side. I met her once…she’s one of those people that you instantly dislike, and become forever branded as a tryhard or a total bitch. Anyway, turns out that she’s doing Geoff’s boss, and as we all know, sex is the best way to hold power over weak men. So the boss has pretty much become her puppet, and she’s making life miserable for several installers, including Geoff. At one point, she told Geoff to ‘fuck off’. Nobody speaks to Geoff like that. Nobody treats someone important to me like that, particularly when they’re a vapid waste of space. So this just made me mad, something that’s sorta bad when I’m feeling restless and scrappy. All I wanted to do was drive down to Geoff’s work, get in a calm fight with her, get her to make it into a screaming match, and then take her out. Seriously. I realized through my fury that this was an all-around bad idea. So I have to content myself with the idea that I’ll run into her in a bar, or better yet, a dark ally. To give you perspective on just how much everyone dislikes this woman, I’m going to insert a quote that one of the installers said to her;

“Why do you godda bother me when I’m working? Do I take dicks out of your mouth when YOU’RE working??”

Golden. It’s crude, but witty.

I still feel scrappy.

-K

Quote du Jour
" Is 7am too early for my jackassery?"
-Geoff

Dear Stats: I hate you with the burning passion of a thousand suns

2006-07-30T16:39:00.000-06:00

WARNING: SELF-PITY MODE

As I’m certain you can ascertain from the subject of this entry, I cannot say that I am enjoying my summer. This is for one reason and one reason only. I detest Statistics. This the last hurtle I have to jump to get my degree, and I have to admit that I’m terrified its not going to happen. I’ve never failed a class, and I certainly don’t want to in my final year.

So, as a result, this has not been the happiest summer ever. In fact, I can’t wait till fall. Not only will I be back on top in classes that I understand and enjoy, but hopefully being in those classes will also reinstate my level of confidence. Nothing like feeling inadequate all summer long to bring down the self confidence. Don’t get me wrong-I’m not losing my mind or thinking that I’m a total idiot. Most students have had this experience. The “I hate university why did I even bother?” experience. That doesn’t make it suck any less, but at least I’m not alone.

Its also tough to spend ones entire summer in classes while those around you are making money at work or going on vacation. (Yes, this is the pity me boo-hoo waa section of my blog). I would love to come home from a 9 hour shift where I made some coin and then use that coin to go out for dinner, go to the movies, or have a couple of drinks with friends. But alas, I guess that will have to wait. I know that this is going to be over soon enough, and I can return to school that much closer to my degree. Besides, this way, I don’t have the “oh shit, summer is almost over and I have to go back to school soon!!” sinking feeling that a lot of students get. I’ll get a sweet 2 weeks off between the end of summer classes and fall semester. Really, that’s all I need. I won’t have to get back into a school groove after 4 months off. Hey hey, yippee for silver linings!!

I have more to say, but I have to go study for my mid-term. Sigh. Wish me luck!

-K

PS: I have in fact locked myself away from society so that I have a chance of passing this damn class. So if you are one of the many who has called or tried to pry me out of my academic shell, I am sorry! I promise-as soon as I'm done this class, I will be fit to re-join society. Till then, keep in touch! Christine, Chel, Holly, and Magda I really am sorry!

Statistics are my kryptonite

2006-07-11T13:04:00.000-06:00

Wow, have I ever slacked off in the blogging department. That’s okay, though, I think that even the most avid bloggers drop off during the summer months. (Chershey, I’m looking at you). Anyway, lots of neat things have happened to me recently. Lemme see...well, I finished all of my spring classes, and lost a vast majority of my sanity doing so. Due to circumstances vastly beyond my control, I got a few extensions to keep my sanity intact.

As for fun times, I ended up missing a Gothic Club camping dealie (which I was disappointed with. I hope it rocked, Kath!) However, I did manage to bond with nature as Geoff, Holly, Lindsay and myself went camping at the end of last month. I didn’t know that I had allergies till we went on this trip. Long and snotty story short, Geoff has now banned me from playing in poplar. I was not the only sufferer, though. Holly joined me in my snotty sojourn in Geoff’s brand-spanking new vehicle, The Humidor. (It’s an Outlander for anyone who is wondering) This lovely piece of craftsmanship provided the only relief to allergy sufferers with its massively powerful a/c, and Geoff was kind enough to waste gas and let us sit in it. Yup. It’s true. Plus, have you ever slept beside an acute allergy sufferer? Geoff got brownie points for not making me sleep outside. It must have been awful.

As with all stories, this one can not be limited to its highlights of snot. Good things happened, too. For example, playing drunken Apples to Apples was an awesome time. We had some great campfires, and had a blast just hanging out in general. We all had fun. Holly and Lindsay got to read magazines, I got to read my books and got a wicked burn that faded into a tan, and Geoff got to have a million naps in a bazillion degree heat. In fact, he perfected napping…wake up, smoke, eat, nap, wake up, eat lunch, nap…once in a while I dragged him for a walk or a ruined sunset, but he still got lots of napping. Which to Geoff, is the ultimate purpose of camping.

So my quick break from school was fun. I worked a lot, and luckily got to hang out with my three awesome colleges, Trudy, Holly, and Danielle. Trudy and I have gotten along with our mutual hatred for One Stop and all carnies in general since we started working together. Holly (aka Dingle) and I have been extremely tight buds for years, and Danielle is the newcomer to my list of Awesome Co-Workers That I Actually Think Are Cool. She’s soft-spoken, quiet, and cuter then hell. She’s also spoken for-sorry gents.

Anyway, the point of this particular section of ramble is that that Holly and I got out to see Pirates of the Caribbean; Dead Mans Chest after work the other night. Now, I don’t often go into praise of movies unless they a) were made in 1939 b) allow me to get jiggy with the Potter or c) feature some sort of a pulp detective and bombshell known only as ‘dame’. But this particular movie was absolutely fantastic. Seriously, fabulous. And what a cliff-hanger. Oh man, I can’t wait till the final edition. Anyway, more praise will only end in plot-spoilers and a rant about Johnny Depp and the inherently sexy effect smudged eyeliner has on a man.

Moving right along. Some interesting changes have been taking place over at this apartment. Namely, Jordan and I have gotten a new resident. After more then a year of dating and much deliberation on my behalf, Geoff and I have taken the next step in our relationship and have decided to live together. As of the 15th, this will officially be the Abel-Gledhill-Fisk residence. We’re in the process of moving right now, so half of Geoff’s belongings are at his old place, and half are in this one. Not too long ago, he called me and announced that while I was getting my nails done, he had taken it upon himself to move in all the necessities, and he would be spending the nights here from now on. After a bewildered silence, I responded with an “Okay, then”. So we pretty much live together now, but have to wait till the 15th to move things like electronics and the like. It’s pretty much the only time we have available. But so far, it’s been good. He passed his first test, which was watching Harry Potter with me on the new flatscreen. Yup. I think we’ll be fine. But Geoff never ever reads my blog, so stay tuned for mildly amusing and potentially embarrassing stories.

And now for the final bit of news, and the reason why this is such a disgustingly long post about nothing. I’m currently taking Stats 141 in summer session. Anyone who knows me knows my hatred for math and all math-related things. I’m pretty freaked about this class, and the fact that I’m mathematically impaired (and lets face it, retarded) makes the next six weeks seem like an unbearable Hell from which there will be no escape. Not at all dramatic. Anyway, it’s an evening class, and I’m doing Stats at home all day long to try and keep my head above water. I also need to get a tutor, but I don’t know how to call up a complete stranger and elicit their services. “Uh…hi. Peter? I’m a complete moron who needs your help in Stats. Will you tutor me? No? Can you recommend someone who can? No? Okay, thanks…” I don’t even want a good grade in this class…I just want to pass it and get the fuck on with life. I wrote a little ditty on top of my scribbler before class yesterday:

Oh Stats, how I loathe thee
But alas, I must have you
For this fucking degree.

Oh yeah. You know you’re jealous.

-K

Quote du Jour
“ I’ll give you a dragon!”
-Keltie or Jordan at any given time

It's about a zillion degrees in my apartment

2006-06-27T11:42:00.000-06:00

Yup, so its hot. And sticky. And I'm too hot to do anything productive, so finding random quizzes on the internet and put into my blog is just plain fabulous.

You Are 44% Bitchy

Generally, you're an average woman, with average moods. But sometimes... well, watch out!Sometimes, you let your mean side get the better of you. And you enjoy every minute of it.

How'>http://ynr.blogthings.com/howbitchyareyouquiz/">How Bitchy Are You?

Your Reputation Is: Mystery Girl

You're the girl that everyone is trying to figure out.Men are attracted to your intriguing persona - and women want to copy it!

What's" Your Reputation?

I disagree entirely. But it's an internet quiz...what are ya going to do?

You Are a Cappuccino

You're fun, outgoing, and you love to try anything new.However, you tend to have strong opinions on what you like.You are a total girly girly at heart - and prefer your coffee with good conversation.You're the type that seems complex to outsiders, but in reality, you are easy to please

What'>http://ynr.blogthings.com/whatkindofcoffeeareyouquiz/">What Kind of Coffee Are You?

Now this I'm more into...

You are a Blanced Babe!

You're direct and to the point, but never dramaticYou've got the confidence to speak your mind to anyoneBut you leave the theatrics to HollywoodLevel headed and emotionally stable, no wonder everyone loves you

Are You a Drama Queen?

Oh C'mon! I'm such a drama queen! One more quiz, then tidying in a zillion degrees...

You Are Buffy the Vampire Slayer

"We saved the world. I say we have to party."

What'>http://ynr.blogthings.com/whatsuperheroineareyouquiz/">What Superheroine Are You?

Oh Lord, I'm not even going to go there.

-K

Soc Excerpt # 2: Gender

2006-06-19T12:21:00.000-06:00

May 13th 3006

I don’t think that I will ever forget the first time that my gender worked against me. I was about thirteen, and had “fully developed” by that time. I wanted to hang out with my guy friends that I had had since elementary school, but suddenly I had breasts that they didn’t treat me like they used to. They were all going off to play football in the paddock (a pretty common pastime in the prairies), and I asked if I could join. I remember that Tom[1] looked at me, while the others looked uncomfortably at the ground, and shook his head “no”. “Why not?” I demanded indignantly, feeling that in my thirteen years I had never felt so slighted. “Well…cuz, you’re a girl”. With that, they all disbanded, though that had been enough of a reason for all of them. I reeled, feeling so hurt that my friends didn’t want to play with me because of something as stupid as gender. “So what?” I thought furiously. “It’s not like it makes any difference!” Eight years later, I have to laugh at myself for two reasons. First of all, because I now see the incredible inequality and difference that gender does indeed make. And secondly, because my personal view hasn’t changed that much.

Gender inequality has been an ongoing issue for decades. It has given birth to a sociological approach known, not surprisingly, as “The Feminist Approach”, and it centers on gendering and gender inequality. Basically, it outlines the differing “roles” and “functions” of women in a patriarchal society. Bottom line? Women are subservient to men. This seems to be a venomous cultural pattern of history that continuously repeats itself. For example, Ancient Greece, the birthplace of democracy, only allowed affluent men to vote, as women were aligned with slaves and subordinates. In medieval Europe, women were accused of witchcraft, and burned at the stake by the men who accused them. “From a feminist perspective, the crack-down on witches on Medieval Europe and colonial America was a gendered conflict.” (Tepperman 25)[2]

Even today, gender inequality continues to be a problem. This is my question: how can a society who prides themselves on being ‘advanced’, who takes deep pleasure in being ‘sophisticated’, and who had the arrogance to coin phrases such as ‘dark ages’ and ‘primitive times’ still align themselves with the prevalent gender inequality today that was apparent in the middle ages? How can a society that claims to be sophisticated still treat individuals differently based on their gender? Oh sure, it’s gotten better. Women now have the right to vote, to free speech, and to work shoulder to shoulder with men in the workplace. But one cannot ignore the fact that the shoulders that are bringing home the greater paycheque for the same job belong to men. This inequality is not a result of a ‘natural’ or ‘biological’ streak in our DNA mapping. It is a purely cultural construct.

"Nor are we born biologically predisposed towards gender inequality. Domination is not a trait carried on the Y chromosome; it is the outcome of the different cultural valuing of men’s and women’s experiences. Thus, the adoption of masculinity and femininity implies the adoption of “political” ideas that what women do is not as culturally important as what men do."
(Kimmel 3)[3]

This attitude aligns itself with the feminist perspective. A great deal of emphasis is put on the “gendering of experiences”. This involves the ‘splitting’ tendency (a belief that experiences are explicitly male or explicitly female).

How does this translate into deviance? It involves what is known as “the problem of victimization” and “the problem of truth-finding”. Because women are forced into a culturally subservient role by men, their rights and their ‘side of the story’ often becomes more fluid than justice would like to admit. Individual lives and case studies don’t hold as much weight in a courtroom as facts and traditional views of science. This combined with the fact that the courtroom is yet another arena that is dominated by a patriarchal mentality, does not leave a lot of room for truth or justice for victimized women, particularly when they have been victimized by men.

To this day, I maintain my original outrage and mentality regarding all gender inequality. Yes, I am a woman. Yes, I have a different gender then men do. SO WHAT?

-K

[1] Pseudonym
[2] Tepperman , Lorne. Deviance, Crime, and Control; Beyond the Straight and Narrow . Ontario : Oxford University Press , 2006.

[3] Kimmel, Michael. Human Beings: An Engendered Species. The Gendered Society. 2nd ed. New York And Oxford: Oxford University Press , 2004.

Soc Excerpt #1: Drinking and Driving

2006-06-15T10:56:00.000-06:00

Overall, I think of myself as a ‘good girl’. Yeah, I’ve done some deviant things, all of which were undeniably stupid of me. I was underage and didn’t understand the basic concept of mixing drinks OR moderation (“Why would I add juice to my schnapps? I don’t need a glass this way…”) No matter how close that got me to alcohol poisoning, I always understood that booze and car keys were the most lethal combination I could come up with. I’ve never understood or tolerated drunk driving, and its clear why.

Of all the forms of risky behavior for youths, I would venture to say that drinking and driving is possibly the worst. There are many, many horrors or drinking and driving, one of which is the fact that the intoxicated driver will likely injure or kill a completely innocent motorist, cyclist, or pedestrian in their blind stupor. And the predominant culprit appears to be young men. “Young men, of all drivers, have the highest risk automobile accidents” (Tepperman 179). Combine that statistic with this one: “60% of drivers between the age of 15 and 19 drank before being involved in an accident” (Tepperman 179). Over half of the individuals surveyed were intoxicated as they got into an accident, and a higher number of accidents involve men. This is disgusting and unacceptable. “Young, single men who drink and then drive are more likely to drink than older, married men” (Tepperman 179). Hmmmm. Now why might that be? I’m not even going to go there.

The sole fact that young people, not just men, are involving themselves with drinking and driving has two major law-violating implications. Not only are they drinking and driving, but they are drinking underage as well. This constitutes what is known as a ‘status offence’. A status offense is when a youth breaks a law that they had no part in creating, and was imposed upon them by older, wiser law-makers. One might speculate that the act of underage drinking is a rebellion to these rules, and that a status offence might even earn a place of honor among other underage individuals. But when that offence begins to be lethal not only to the offender but to innocent individuals as well, a zero-tolerance policy must be followed. This is typically the outcome, as drinking and driving alone has very high legal implications and consequences.

There are many schools of thought surrounding why it is that underage kids engage in such risky behavior. The functionalist theory suggests that “…crime provides a positive function because it stimulates social cohesion and promotes the development of more complex social arrangements…”(Tepperman 195). The symbolic approach deals principally with ‘labeling’. Even the conflict theory advocates that the amount of delinquent behavior correlates with the number of rules being set against the youth.

This is all well and good, and each school of thought has valid and well-supported stances. I, however, have adopted my own zero tolerance policy for drinking and driving, and no amount of theories are going to change my mind, underage or not.

-K

Secrets Revealed

2006-05-27T13:35:00.000-06:00

*Hand Motion*

Everyone has their own secret perversion. That one activity that you try not to admit to people you still want to respect you. It might be a love of “Sabrina the Teenage Witch”, Magic Cards, or really cheesy love songs. It might be a secret devotion to a certain website. Or in my case, it might just be Hollywood gossip.

I can’t get enough of it. It’s just so entirely surreal. The ephemeral quality of Hollywood trash cannot be met anywhere else in the world. Where else can….ANYTHING like these stories ever actually happen? What is it about the magnitude of success and beauty that dislocates stars from reality, rif-raff, and general ‘real’ people? Even when you hear someone say a positive comment about a star, it goes without saying that there is a mental “well, for a movie star” notion tacked onto the end of the statement. Designer ovaries, billion dollar indulgences, and egos that fight to the death for stroking. Everything is shocking and its always so unbelievable that we often have no choice but to believe it. But its my favorite when one of the powerhouses tumble, and tumble hard.

Brittney Spears has been in a downward slide for some time. She’s been mocked, lambasted, and taunted. She’s been the focal point of satire, the butt of the joke, and the galah without elocution lessons for ages. And I feel bad for her, I truly do. And that must be the lowest of the low. Like most women, I vehemently denied that she had the ‘perfect’ body, and then went off about gossip regarding surgery, eating disorders, and speculation about the body that I would have if I too had a million dollars and a personal trainer. I envied her perfect body, her perfect breasts, and even her perfect baby-doll complextion. But now? Wow. Brittney “white trash” Spears has –my- sympathy. Yikes.

Here is her newest form of self-expression. The completely untapped wellspring that is poetry. Nobody has ever done this before. Anyway, this is her poem that I found at a local celebrity gossip rag website. (Secrets Revealed !) *hand motion*

Remembrance of Who I Am
No more chains That you gave me.
Enough of pain
Now I'm craving
Something sweet, so delight
How do you stand sleeping at night?
Silly patterns that we follow
You pull me in
I'm being swallowed.
By the ones you think you love
They pull you down
You can't see up above.
Manipulation is the key
They screw it in
Because you're naïve.
You come to me now
Why do you bother?
Remember the Bible Sins of the Father.
What you do
You pass down.
No wonder why I lost my crown.
You don't see me now
You ask yourself why
My crown is back
And it's way too high
For you to be in my presence
Especially my son
You should bow down
I've only just begun.
The guilt you fed me
Made me weak.
The voodoo you did
I couldn't speak.
You're awakening
The phone is ringing.
Resurrection of my soul
The fear I'm bringing.
What will you say
And what will you do?
She's not the same person that you're used to.
You trick me one (sic), twice, now it's three.

My conclusion?

Wow. Brittney has become completely unglued.

Awesome.

-K

Ohh, Snap!

2006-05-22T10:48:00.000-06:00

Saturday was our anniversary. External circumstances put a minor damper on the evening, but it was still fabulous. We decided to go for a romantic dinner at Moxie’s, but it was a bit early to be dining (it was around 7…this is too early for us. You know, us being the “other category” and all.) So on our anniversary, we decided to stroll around Ikea and kill some time. It was fun…though Geoff had a bad experience with an Ikea lamp, and now distrusts everything from the store. (Who hasn’t had an Ikea product fall apart on them? Honestly.) Anyway, after many tasteful jokes about the Swedish (genuine Persian rugs…made in Sweden.) and a few minor jokes about the Irish (green seems to be this seasons “in” color”), we were off to Moxie’s. I had the fantastic chicken oscar. I highly recommend it. A nice dinner and some romantic couple time. What more could I possibly ask for on my anniversary?

And to top it all off, Geoff got me the first two seasons of Sex & the City! He’s so wonderful.

School is not going as well. I’ve pretty much ignored Sociology, and am currently trying to get through a paper on Italian Futurism. I pretty much have no idea what it is, and I petty much don’t care. (examples follow) Ah, academic apathy. I’ve missed you so. Anyway, I’m off to bullshit my way through this paper.

What a waste of a post.

-K

Edouard Manet.
The Absinthe Drinker.
1858-1859.
Oil on canvas.
Ny Carlsberg-Glyptotek, Copenhagen, Denmark

This is one example of an Italian Futurist painting. I really like this one...though I can't explain why.

Giacomo Balla
Dynamism of a Dog on a Leash
1912
Oil on Canvas
Italy

More futurism. They were big on everything ephemeral...like moving dog legs.

Gimme a break.

Cat's in the Cradle

2006-05-18T19:01:00.000-06:00

It was the middle of winter on a bitterly cold Canadian night when I found her. I bundled up, and bribed her with warm milk and biscuits. Before long, she trusted me enough to let me pick her up and pet her. I remember picking her up, and grinning at my parent’s through the window. My father (notorious cat hater) was looking like he wanted to see how far into a snow bank he could punt me and the mystery cat, and my mother was alternately shaking her head and trying not to smile. As soon as she came outside with warnings and admonishing the stupidity of cuddling a stray and disease ridden cat, I asked if she could stay in the garage while it was so cold out. Knowing that a parent has not properly said “no” until it is said three times, upon the second “no” I turned to guilting her nurturing instincts. “But mum! It’s -40! And the cat will die if we don’t help her! Look, she’s missing part of her ear from frostbite already.” I could see that she was one more guilt trip away from being persuaded. “Mum,” I said with the straightest face I could muster, “Do you –really- want to be responsible for this poor animal’s death?” Her face became a hybrid of being completely pissed at me for guilting her and smiling because she knew I had played her successfully. “Only the garage, and I’m not feeding it!” Within an hour, the cat had a milk crate wrapped in dozen’s of blankets in the coziest corner of the garage we could find (our garage is not attached, and is unheated). Within an hour and a half, the milk crate featured tiny curtains so that she wouldn’t lose the body heat she produced. Within two hours she had a name. Patsy. (I’m a huge fan of film noir, and my father had lost something –glasses, I think- after I discovered the cat under the deck. “Nothing has gone right since you found that thing outside.” father dearest grumbled at me. “Sure, sure daddy. Blame the cat. Just make it a patsy.” And the name was born.)

By the end of the week, not only did Patsy have an insolated milk crate, but my mother’s best heating pad lining the thing. My mother failed miserably at keeping her threat, and within a fortnight Patsy was being fed Whiskers served with a saucer of warm milk and a side of filtered water. Oh yes, this cat has its own rags to riches story, to say the least. We had her spade (only to discover that her previous owner had taken the liberty...himself. It’s a miracle this cat is still alive) and we also shaved the hell out of her because her hair was so matted that it was tearing her skin. The cat was miserable for weeks, but earned a temporary place inside the house till she healed. Anyway, she earned her keep by keeping the mice away when the spring thaw occurred.

That was about a year and a half ago, which brings us to these pathetic yet hilarious pictures. You see, being a long-haired cat that is kept outside, Patsy’s hair became matted and tangled despite our best efforts to brush her several times a week. Again, we had her shaved down when the warm weather hit, so that she can be comfortable for the season. And here she is- Patsy the cat with a poodle style.

And man, she looks pissed.

(and yes, the vet scolded us for how fat she has become. Hey, Whiskers and milk...it's not Atkins for Animals, that's certain.)

-K

I win

2006-05-10T17:13:00.000-06:00

I've been mocked over the years for my love of shoes. "Who need that many shoes?" people would ask in an appalling shock, while looking at me as though I had a weird skin rash. Even friends would hold me in contempt, dragging me away from various shoe stores, all the while rolling their eyes and saying the same refrain: "You don't need anymore shoes!" I tried to explain that shoes are not a "need" in the food, water, sleep sense of the word. But they are very much a "need" of mine, and I have been alone.

Until now.

Barb's Blog:
" I am so tempted to buy cute shoes on my way to a meeting tomorrow. OMG WHAT AM I ACTUALLY A GIRL!?!? *FLEES*"

Chelsey's Blog:
"My friends, I have to admit that I have become a cute shoe whore!! I can't stop myself . . . everything revolves arounds shoes.It's a slippery slope, isn't schmeltie?"

Ha! And yes, Chelsey, it is a slippery slope. I started out much like you...and now, I have 80-odd pairs of shoes in my closet.

Love of shoes is a gift, my friends. Before you know what happened, you'll be surfing eBay for great deals, and Carrie Bradshaw will become your personal hero, as she has mine. And I promise you; you will find dialogue like this witty and amazing:

Charlotte: I could never! I have the most terrible fear of heights!
Carrie: Well, I do not... you've seen my shoes.”

Ahh....hilarious.

-K

Loves it

2006-05-06T09:54:00.001-06:00

Thank you, Penny Arcade! Hilarity ensues.

So very random

2006-04-27T17:48:00.000-06:00

Exams have been over for 24 hours, and I’m bored out of my mind. I’m glad they’re over, don’t get me wrong. But damn. How do housewives do it? Well, then again, I bet housewives don’t vegetate on the couch watching Scrubs distractedly because they are feeling guilty about vegetating on the couch.
I decided not to be a total loser, and I decided I wanted to make something to eat. And then I discovered that I REALLY have to learn how to cook. I’m going to be the worst girlfriend ever when Geoff moves in- I can’t cook worth a damn. See, I decided that I was in the mood for beef, so I defrosted these beef stir-fry strips that I bought about two months ago. But I got sick of waiting for them to defrost, so I tossed them in the sink full of hot water. I then came back to a pinkish looking sink and waterlogged beef about 20 mins later. I figured that it would burn off when I cooked it. (I’m still waiting for the e.coli to set in. So far, so good.) Anyway, I cut up a whole whack of veggies, and did the whole stir-fry thing, complete with rice. I also burned my arm, wrist, breast (I leaned over the skillet to check on the rice in a tank top. Rookie mistake.) and somehow managed to melt this plastic mushroom-scrubber thingie I have. Well, had. Anyway, it was pretty tasty. Not tasty like I would ever make it for company or serve it to a living soul, but it involved more then heating up a pot of boiling water, so I’m proud…in a “retarded monkey managed to cook something” sort of way.
But hot damn, can I clean. I’m something of a clean freak, which I never saw coming, and my mother still disbelieves. But I’m constantly tidying, doing the dishes, scrubbing the floors, dusting, cleaning the bathroom, and vacuuming at least once a week. Jordan and I are supposed to share the cleaning duties, but he never does his. And it makes me really sad when he doesn’t do it, because I feel like he’s disrespecting me, and I try really hard to maintain the peace and be a good roomie. This hasn’t changed in the entire time we’ve been living together, and I guess he either doesn’t notice or care that it makes me feel like shit. But a month ago he promised to clean the floors, and he never did it.
However, to his credit, he does take out the trash…sometimes without ever being asked. And he puts up with most of my stupid rules, like no loud music and not putting certain dishes in the dishwasher. And we get along really well, which makes it all worthwhile. Plus, he puts up with my bullshit, and once when I was doing laundry and dishes at the same time, a pair of my freshly laundered panties somehow wound up in a bowl in the cupboard. He discovered this while I was having a faux birthday party for Christine, and he just laughed at me. He didn’t make a scene, which I appreciated. And whenever I’m having a stupid girly crisis, he sighs and tells me that I’m crazy, but he still listens and gives advice. And lets not forget that he’s cool with Geoff being over here all the time, which is really important. It would be a lot worse if the three of us couldn’t hang out.

Cheers!
K

Quote du Jour
“What we need is an ashing trough on the outside of the deck…”
-Geoff

Why do they godda be like that?

2006-04-20T09:40:00.000-06:00

I’m in that half-awake, half-asleep mode before the coffee has hit the bloodstream and the dreams have faded entirely. Geoff laughed at me this morning before he left for work, because I was grouchy when he tried to rouse me (as I had made him promise to try and do so I can get a head start on cramming today). I have a final tomorrow that I’m wholly unprepared for. It’s C Lit 440, and it’s all advanced lit theory in relation to popular culture. Damn you, Lacan! I thought I was through with you and your mirror phase!
Lit theory is pervading every pore of my life. Last night, Geoff and I were cuddled up in bed, and I started talking about the Freudian differences between men and women, and we wound up talking about infantile breastfeeding, and the long term sociological ramifications. Talk about a mood killer! What was I thinking? I even knew that it was a bad idea as I brought it up, but I objectively identified the wrong thing to say, and said it anyway. I guess Geoff is rubbing off on me. The funny thing is, Geoff didn’t even hesitate to get into the conversation. There isn’t really a lot of topics that we shy away from. (*WARNING: ABOUT TO GET REALLY DISGUSTING*) Including Tom Cruise eating Katie Holmes’s placenta after she gave birth to his child. I don’t often talk about celebrity dirt on this blog, but this couple continues to just blow my mind. I always saw K Homes as a sweet young chick that was on a teeny-bopper show. What is she doing with this placenta-eating, Scientology-practicing, couch-abusing freak of nature?? And why does she always look like a mother possum when she’s in public with him? You don’t have to cling, honey. He’s not exactly the catch he was in the 1980’s. You know, before he went public with his abundance of crazy. Tome Cruise makes me shutter.
Moving right along. I had an altercation with a woman in the Sherwood Park Mall parking lot yesterday. On the way to the mall, on WYE ROAD, This nutso woman just about steered her big-assed Land Rover into my itty bitty Escort because she was too retarded to check her mirrors AND shoulder before she lane changed. I lightly tapped on my horn-an unusual Keltie move in traffic. I think I’ve used my horn three times in my entire life, because I think its rude to lean on it and curse at other drivers. Anyway, it was this “yo lady, I’m right here, don’t hit me” beep. She swerved out of my lane, pulled up beside me, and started screaming and flipping me off!!! I smirked at her, and proceeded to turn up my music and ignore her. She started to tailgate me, and I made this choice: “I’m a student driving a ’96 Escort, and you are a rich Sherwood Park whore driving a 2006 land yacht. I’m in a wicked enough mood to get rear-ended and make you pay.” I tapped on my breaks, and sure enough, she damn near hit me (witnesses galore. People are now looking over at this psycho lady, who is STILL screaming inside her car and flipping me off). Anywhoo, she took off down the road doing at LEAST 80 in a 60 zone, because I was doing exactly 60 and she shot past me. Get this: her 12 year-old daughter flipped me off, too. Lovely.
I watched her get trapped behind two slower cars, and then run through a yellow light as it turned red. Like, it turned red as soon as the nose of her car hit the intersection. Anyway, I don’t understand the psychics of it, but I guess she was headed towards the mall. I got there as she and her kid were walking towards the door. We saw each other at the same time, and she came up to me just screaming her head off about what a “fucking cunt driver” I am, and how I deserved to be shot for cutting her off. Excuse me? I was in the same lane the whole time. Anyway, I knew it would piss her off if I played it cool, so I leaned against the door of my car and sipped my coffee, watching her like she was a mildly interesting television program. I let her tucker herself out before I said very quietly and very evenly, “ You sped. You ran a light. You tailgated me, and you encouraged your young daughter to flip me off. You are a worse mother then you are a driver, and that’s saying a lot.” I then waltzed past her, and into the mall ignoring the awful things she was screaming after me. All I wanted to do was start swearing, maybe deck her and her bitchy daughter for good measure. I was shaking when I got to work, and I have come to a single conclusion: I fucking hate Sherwood Park.
Okay kids. I’ve gone through a cup of coffee, and its time to study. A martini night is in order as soon as exams are done. Who’s with me?

Cheers!

K

Quote du jour
“Be gentle with me, Sam!” (Chelsey and I talking about the homosexual overtones in Lord of the Rings)

C’mon!

2006-04-05T00:40:00.000-06:00

Well folks, if you’re wondering why its been so long since an actual post, allow me to let ya in on little secret: it’s because nothing has happened that is worth posting about. But random bored posts are fun too, and that is what this is about to become. Anyway, I digress.
The semester is ending, and I’m thankful for that. Oh, one exciting thing has happened: for the first time in my degree, I quit something when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to pass it. I dropped Symbolic Logic! It was wonderful. No more derivations, truth trees, or any of that bullshit. But it was taking away from the rest of my classes, which I’ve been trying to catch up on. I just completed a nasty essay for one of my C Lit classes, and have to begin another one tomorrow. Oh, and I just found out that my SOC final is not on the 24th as I had originally believed; it is in fact next Wednesday. Damn you, Beartracks! Full of lies and deception! Sigh.
I’m enrolled in two spring session classes, and one summer class. Some people get four months of vacation, whereas this has left me with a luxurious two weeks…in which I can steal all available hours at One Stop, so I can actually afford the lovely things in life. Like rent, pantyhose, and birthday gifts. Sigh. I can’t believe that I’m not looking forward to summer. In fact, I won’t even have the luxury of looking out a window during these classes, as I will be confined to the horrors of Tory basement all summer long. Ignore me. I’m just in a bad mood.
But when summer is over and the fall semester begins, it will be the last one in my degree. This is what I have to keep telling myself for the next nine months: it’s a mere nine months. If I could do this for three and a half years, I can sure as hell overcome these blues and kick ass at finishing my degree. Thank god I’m not in medicine.
I also have to retract a statement I posted earlier. I am not going to Aerosmith. They cancelled their tour. I guess Steven Tyler needed throat surgery. I still love them, but to quote Geoff, there is definitely trouble in paradise. We’re currently not talking. My cd’s actually have a layer of dust on them. Its depressing.
Something I can look forward to, though: Geoff and I have been tentatively talking about the next step in our relationship, and moving in together. I can’t wait till it happens, as we don’t get to see each other as often as we would like. It only makes sense to wait till my degree is done...a mere nine months, a mere nine months, a mere nine months… However, we’re tossing around the idea of the three amigos living together, meaning Geoff, Jordo and myself. I just KNOW that I’m going to come home one day to my living room turned into a Cowboys and Indians-type setting, with a gigantic fort set up in the middle. Complete with my best sheets as “walls”, and a “NO GIRLZ” sign adorning the couch-cushion entrance, with two sets of eyes peeking suspiciously out of the top.
In all seriousness though, I am looking forward to it. Maybe I’ll just have Chel and Christine come over, and we can make a SUPERIOR fort. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right? Right.

-K

Quote du Jour
“I promise Jordan and I will behave…ish.”
-Geoff

Stolen from Mike's Blog

2006-03-23T15:00:00.000-06:00

What Action Hero Figure Would You Be?

You scored as Maximus. After his family was murdered by the evil emperor Commodus, the great Roman general Maximus went into hiding to avoid Commodus's assassins. He became a gladiator, hoping to dominate the colosseum in order to one day get the chance of killing Commodus. Maximus is valiant, courageous, and dedicated. He wants nothing more than the chance to avenge his family, but his temper often gets the better of him.

Indiana Jones

83%

Maximus

83%

Captain Jack Sparrow

67%

Batman, the Dark Knight

67%

James Bond, Agent 007

54%

The Terminator

54%

Lara Croft

54%

El Zorro

50%

The Amazing Spider-Man

50%

William Wallace

50%

Neo, the "One"

46%

Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

So what are you waiting for? Try it!

Check out http://gotthammer.blogspot.com/ Thanks Mike!

I really wish I had scored Indiana Jones. That would have been awesome. Plus, I look good in hats.

Cheers!

K

Random Quiz Time

2006-03-20T19:49:00.000-06:00

Your 1920's Name is:

Mercedes Esperanza

What's" Your 1920's Name?

You Are a Classic Martini

You area sophisticated drinker, who knows that simple quality is over-rated.You're a knowledgeable drunk, but sometimes you're a know-it-all when you're blasted.
You should never: Drink and gossip. You tend to forget who's standing right behind you!
Your ideal party: Has a real bartender. But no one mixes a better drink than you.
Your drinking soulmates: those with a Chocolate Martini personality
Your drinking rivals: those with a Margarita Martini personality

What Flavor Martini Are You?

The ten minute detective

2006-03-18T16:46:00.000-06:00

It is really, really snowing. I feel like I should be studying, cleaning, or baking. The latter comes from a childhood conviction that baking made the house warm. I used to convince my mother that she desperately needed to bake muffins with me, so that we could warm up our house, which by the way was cold because my father guarded the thermostat of incessantly.

“But daddy, I’m catching hypothermia.” *dramatic teenager-style*
“Put on a sweater.”
“I’m wearing two.”
“When you pay for heat, you’ll see the brilliance of the sweaters.”

Now that I’m on my own, I see his point. Never thought I would, but I sure do. Anyway. Back to baking.
Mum and I would bake something, and really have fun doing it. The house would smell like fresh banana-chip muffins, and I would feel at home. Now I just feel nostalgic…and hungry for muffins. I also really miss my family. (They have the good muffin tins. I’m only half kidding!!)

I braved the damn Whyetmud today, and for anyone who owns a vehicle/will be driving one of the main lifelines in Edmonton, I have wisdom to impart of you: DON’T DO IT! It’s a deathtrap. People make fun of me for being for scared of winter driving, and I’m always convinced that they don’t understand the inherent danger that comes with it. I’ve also always been crazy-paranoid about driving…I concluded that a fatal car accident definitely ranks in my top 3 fears. I have a lot of secret fears, so that’s pretty high. I mean, I just don’t want to lose a loved one or my own life because of an accident that could have been avoided. Is that so hard to understand?

So, I clearly decided to spend the day cooped up in my apartment listening to Zeppelin, reading, and cleaning. I have to commence the cleaning; I got too into my detective fiction (as per usual). Ah. Hardboiled detective fiction, I love you so. I just decided that I’m making it the subject of this entry.

I decided to let y'all know that I downgraded my shoe collection when I moved. I just counted. I only have 64 pairs here from the original 75. They are almost all sandles, they nearly all hurt my feet, and I love each and every one as though it were a child. Why do I own so many sandles of various height (many are flip-flops, many are heels) when I live in a country that is frozen 6 months of the year? Sad, yes?

Also, this is what happens when I get snowbound in Sherwood Park and crash at Chelsey's place. We decide to get intoxicated and embrace the great outdoors. I'm terrified of getting sick yet AGAIN, so that's why I'm bundled up in a million layers of warmth. I like the hood on the hoodie that I stole from her. I wish it was red- I would look like Steve Zissou, and it would be wonderful.

Cheers!

K

Quote du Jour
“Oh my God! My parents were socialist perverts!”
-Chelsey

2006-03-09T10:53:00.000-06:00

fait accomplit
does
Dewey’s

To celebrate the launch of our latest issue,
fait accomplit will take over all of Dewey’s
Monday 27 March 7 pm

Join us to pick up your latest fix
enjoy readings by the talented writers
see pictures by wacky photographers
hear the musical stylings of Babe Lloyd

Send your questions and angst to
faitaccomplit@yahoo.ca

It seemed like a good idea at the time…

2006-03-04T02:00:00.000-06:00

Doing laundry at a quarter to one in the morning seemed like such a good idea. As I toss in my dirty clothes, it dawns on me…this machine takes forever! Dammit! Why can’t my building have good washers and dryers? Honestly, both of the machines have seemingly endless cycles, and it
drives me crazy. And the dryer is absolute, unadulterated crap. I usually have to run my clothes through the thing twice, which makes it twice as long! Not to mention that both machines are a buck twenty five a shot. Three seventy-five for laundry?? Highway burglary! Don’t even get me started on doing sheets and towels.
Anyway, its been an interesting few weeks. Valentines Day was fabulous; Geoff got me the most beautiful diamond necklace known to mankind. He spoils me, he really does. I mean, I was all psyched to give him his gift (a neat picture of pool balls and a cue that I framed all super-fancy like), and then he gives me this BREATHTAKING jewelry! I welled up and cried like a small, bewildered child. That’s actually an accurate description of how it made me feel, too. Seriously. He’s too good to be true.
Okay, so we (Geoff, Chelsey, Jay and myself) went to Fairmont for a week of skiing, drinking, and overall good times. And good times were had by all, indeed! The place was absolutely gorgeous, we had an awesome view of the mountains. We got to go to the hot springs (which was tough on poor Geoff, seeing as how it is winter and he has a shaved head!) and the best part was that I got to go skiing!!!! I loved every second of it, and Geoff even came with me! Sharing something that you love with the person that you love is such an awesome feeling, you know? Like, I looked over at him on the chairlift, and I was just so happy that he came with me! He’s amazing. He did a great job on the slopes, too. It was fabulous.

Chesley and I had some excellent bonding time, as well. It was cool to hang out with someone and not secretly want to smack them. We even played a whole lot of games, and she more or less controlled her competitive side. I have so many awesome stories, but I’m tired and don’t want to try and recall. I’ll post a picture instead.

This is from the random drive we took into bear/tick country. Chelsey was more afraid of the ticks then of the bears. Her smile is just masking her terror.

The rest of the time was awesome, as well. We just hung out a lot, watched a lot of the OC, Simpsons, and Clone High. It was a week of references, mainly “Raise the roof! RAISE IT!!!” Followed by manic hand gestures and much laughter. Also, the Black Eyed Peas had their crowning moment of glory, as we all became obsessed with one of their songs. I would venture to guess that it’s titled “Pump It”, but I really have no clear idea. In any case, it was a whole lot of awesome. Even the 7 hour drive was tolerable, providing I didn’t look at the speedometer while Geoff was tearing down the highway. I mostly just closed my eyes when he passed people, and tried to envision a calm blue ocean. I’m not kidding.
Buut, coming back to reality is possibly the worst part of a vacation. Its even worse then the gas station bathrooms pit stops during the drive. I hate school, and just want it to be over. It’s mostly due to Symbolic Logic, which is my literal kryptonite. I hate it so much….words fail me. My mid term is on Tues, and I’m just freaking right the fuck out. Every time I sit down to do some work, I end up in tears, and totally convinced that I’m the stupidest person in the university. Anyone who knows me understands how much it takes to make me cry (in a bad way, not a “my boyfriend just gave me a diamond necklace” sort of way. I feel I need to clarify this.) Seriously. I’ve never considered dropping out of school more then I have in the last month. In a different class the other day, the question was posed, “What would you do if you have five minuets before the world was destroyed?” Everyone had all these insightful responses that had to do with religion and loved ones. All I could think about was lighting my symbolic logic text on fire and dancing around it manically screaming “burn fucker, burn!” Is that healthy?
The fact that cash flow has significantly decreased might have something to do with my negativity, as well. Jordo tutors me in symbolic logic (yes, I have a tutor. No, I still don’t get it. Yes, I am a complete moron.) every Monday night, so I had to cut back on my already-slim shifts at One Stop. Not just for tutoring, though. My other classes are kicking my ass as well, like my various C Lit classes and my useless Soc class. Dammit, I just want this degree to be DONE! I’m craving academic freedom, and it’s really beginning to wear on me. Ignore my negativity, I’m just going through a “thing”. I’ll be back to loving all that I do soon enough. (Except symbolic logic. Clearly.)
The fait accomplit 2006 edition is in it’s final stages of completion, and I’m looking forward to the release party. The details are still being sussed out, but I’ll post ‘em if I remember. I didn’t even fill my blog with “SUBMIT YOURSELF TO FAIT ACCOMPLIT” propaganda this time around. Huh. Well, we have a ton of submissions, and some pretty incredible stuff. The release party will have readings from the poetry and prose, and this time the sound issues has been dealt with…I saw to that. Okay, propaganda: c’mon down, have a drink and some chow, listen to some poetry, buy a book! They make great stocking stuffers! (lame excuse, but hey, ya do what ya godda do! And no. They actually make horrible stocking stuffers. But they’re pretty cool, otherwise.) If I do space on posting the details, here’s the site:

http://www.geocities.com/faitaccomplit/

Why didn’t I post that sooner? What a gong show.

Okay, I’m going to check on the Laundry of Eternity…no dice. Have I mentioned that I detest these machines?

-K

Quote du Jour
“Raise the roof! RAISE IT!!!”

Have I mentioned that I'm going to Aerosmith?

2006-02-12T20:43:00.000-06:00

I’M GOING TO AEROSMITH!!!!! OH YEAH BABY!! I’M SO DAMN EXCITED!!!!!! STEVEN TYLER AND JOE PERRY!!!! WHOOO!!!! APRIL 7TH, 7.30 AT REXALL PLACE!!! CHRISTINE AND I ARE GOING TO ROCK OUT. I CAN’T WAIT!!!!

Ahem. And now for the real stuff.

My biological clock gave its first tentative “tick” the other day. Perhaps I should invest in some small mammal of the fuzzy variety to tide myself over for another ten years. Children no longer frighten me-I now have a feeling of ambivalence underscored by some secret emotion that I clearly have kept well-hidden from my conscious self. Last night Geoff and I attended a get together at Vic and Aaron’s apartment. Accompanied by two now emotionally scarred cats was a small child running all around, entertaining and amusing the adults. At one point this child ran up to me, and gave me an “Eeyor” (phonetically spelled for lack of literal basis) headband. (Which suspiciously belonged not to the 20-month old child, but the 20-ish hostess.) She passed it to me, and not knowing what to do with it, I stuck it on my head to make her laugh. She complied, then reached out for it again. I put it back on her head, which caused her to clap her hands in profound delight before getting distracted once again by the cat. Wow. Keltie playfully co-existed with a child. Up until this point, I have been under the impression that I have no maternal instincts whatsoever. I might not be a complete disappointment to my gender-there may still be hope for me yet. However, I still have no clear idea of how to cook, sew, sing, or perform any other stereotypically female tasks. Don’t worry everyone. I won’t try to learn how to sing.

As further proof of my un-feminine mannerisms, I’m excited about Valentine ’s Day. “What??” you might ask yourself. “But liking Valentines Day is the epitome of girly things to do!!!” Maybe so. However, as a gesture of pure love and affection for Geoff, this is how I have planned our Valentines Day to be: we are going to BP’s to eat pizza, drink beer, and play pool. We’re going with another couple, friends of his. My big Valentines gift to him is to sacrifice all iconic and emotional ties with the day of Hallmark romance. No hearts, no red, and no mush. Just fun. I mean, what guy can legitimately say he’s excited to spend Valentines Day with his girlfriend? (Plus, I also got him a really cool gift. If I remember, I’ll reveal what it is later. There is a slim chance of him reading this before he gets it. It’s about as likely as me tearing up my Aerosmith tickets, but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.) But sacrificing all the romantic things about Valentines Day is in itself a form of romance. And for Geoff, it’s absolutely worth it. When he got here and saw me all ready to go out, his first words were, “Wow. You look like a work of art.” How can I not love this man?

Did I mention that I'm going to Aerosmith?

-K

Quote du Jour
“Almonds are a drupe??? My world just turned.”
-Chelsey

The pneumonia invoking outfit

This relationship is where romance goes to die.

2006-01-15T18:52:00.000-06:00

A fairly typical conversation between me and Geoff…

*phone rings*

G: Hello?

K: Hey you!

G: Hey baby.

K: *laughs*

G: What’s up?

K: Not much. How was your day?

G: *large intake of air/cigarette* Busy. Busy, busy, busy.

K: Oh yeah? Who ruined your life today?

G: Fucking *insert name & story about work*. How ‘bout you? How was your day?

K: Good. I *Insert story and names/places/dates, etc…*

-momentary lull in conversation-

K: I missed ya last night

G: Oh yeah?

K: Yeah.

-lull-

K: Did you miss me?

G: *silence*

K: No, huh?

G: I’m sorry! * nervous laughter*

K: *laughs* Not even a little wee bit?

G: I was seriously asleep in thirty seconds.

K: *sigh* At least you’re honest.

G: Okay. Thirty. Thirty seconds, and I was gone.

K: Okay. Do you miss me now?

G: I’m talking to you now

K: Yeah, but are you missing me?

G:…I’m talking…to…you….

K: I know! *exasperation* Never mind.

G: Okayy…

K: *laughs*. You’re supposed to tell me that you miss me anyway.

G: Oh. I miss you anyway.

K: Geoff!!!

G: WHAT?

K: It doesn’t work after I tell you!

G: Oh. It doesn’t?

K: No.

G: Oh. Okay.

K: *laughs*. Okay, am I seeing you tonight?

G: I think so.

K: I know so. See you after work?

G: Sounds like a plan, baby.

K: Okay. Love you.

G: I love you too.

K: See ya.

G: bye-bye.

A fairly typical Sunday morning conversation between me and Geoff

*watching Boy Meets World where one character pines for his ex*

K: Would you miss me if we split?

G: *senses a trap and remains motionless*

K: Well?

G: Of course I would miss you!

K: Would you try to get me back?

G: I would like to think that I would…

K: …but you don’t know for sure?

G: Well, it would depend on the circumstances

K: Okay. Something stupid. Would you try to get me back?

G: Dunno. Depends if I could or not.

K: That’s the point in trying.

G: If it was something stupid, then yes. Yes I would.

K: What’s something not stupid?

G: I dunno…cheating.

K: Yeah. Cheating is unforgivable. But what if it was something like…I got tired of how much your job takes away from your time?

G: I would miss you…but I couldn’t really change the circumstances.

K: *staring daggers*

G: Well, I would like to say that it would change, but it wouldn’t! So how could I really win you back if that was a problem?

K: *more daggers*

G: Are you planning on breaking up with me because of my job?

K: Well, no…

G: Then why worry about? *laughs*

K: Because-

G: Hey look! Tv! *pulls Keltie back onto his chest, and rubs her shoulder soothingly*

K: Hey!

G: Uh-huh. *kisses top of Keltie’s head*

K: *grumble* Oh fine…

A fairly typical random night conversation between Keltie and Geoff

*darkness, in bed.*

G: I’m going to be asleep in like, three minuets.

K: Oh no you are not!

G: Watch me.

K: Uh-uh, buster. Talk to me.

G: What do you want to talk about?

K: Anything.

G: How ‘bout sleep?

K: Geoff!

G: Okay, so we’re playing this game now?

K: Yup. What are you thinking about?

G: Sleep.

K: Other then that.

G: Nothing

K: You going to take me to the zoo in the springtime?

G: Yes. I don’t want to put up with another winter of bitching.

K: *smacks Geoff* hey! *laughs*

G: *laughs. Spoons with Keltie*

K: You had better take me, mister.

G: I will.

K: Okay. Good.

-lull-

K: Hey Geoff?

G: Hmmm?

K: Which zoo?

G: Any zoo!!!! *mutters under breath*

K: Okay.

G: Okay.

K: Hey, Geoff?

G: Hmmm? *barely concealed irritation*

K: It’s been three minuets. I toldyaso.

G: *mutters and flips over. Laughs into pillow*

K: Okay, I just had to prove that there was no way I was going to let you sleep in three minuets.

G: Uh-huh…

K: Jeeze Geoff, would you stop talking? You’re keeping me awake.

G: *growls into pillow*

K: *giggles*. Okay, okay. Night, babe.

G: I love you, sweetie.

K: Love you too.

DISCLAIMER:

To all those reading this, and thinking that we are in the most dysfunctional relationship ever, don’t be fooled. Though there is very little romance on the surface, there are little things that we both say to each other that might sound like nagging, bitching, or whatever, but really means “I love you more then anything else in this whole world.” We are both very happy with each other, and revel in one another’s sense of humor. We were made for one another, and both acknowledge this fact on a daily basis.

And I’m offering 2:1 odds that I never get to go to the zoo.

Cheers!

Quote du jour
“If you have a dream about us going to the zoo together, I’m counting it.”
-Geoff

Miscellaneous Update

2005-12-23T14:59:00.000-06:00

It’s been a while.
Okay, so my first semester of my fourth year is completed. Whoo hoo! Conversely, I just found out that I’ve made a few more then a few mistakes with my classes, have to take 7 more to obtain my degree, rather then the projected 5. Ah well. I guess this is just a really expensive way to procrastinate entering the Real World. I’m okay with it…but I am psyched to finally finish my degree.
I did pretty well in my classes…in fact, this might be the best semester I’ve ever had grade-wise. I just have to wait and see if Mike O’Driscoll destroyed my life or not in English 217…
This break has been awesome so far. I got to have lunch with my lady Christine yesterday, and before that Chelsey and I got trashed and wound up chilling in my apartment all night, just chatting. We talked (and drank!) for a solid 7 hours. It was awesome. Also, I discovered eBay! *everyone that knows my shoe fetish groans*. It’s true y’all. I’ve already bought a gorgeous pair of shoes on eBay. The first of many, I’m certain!
Moving on. I quit working for the tyranny of Bunches, only to return to the tyranny of the Carnies. It’s true; once you start working for One Stop Framing, you never do get out…ah well. It’s a temporary position, so I can make some cash before Reading Week.
Oh! Reading Week! Myself, Geoff, Jordo and his friend James are all going on a ski vacation to Fairmont in B.C! We’ll be staying at the Fairmount Villas for a week, enjoying barbeques, skiing, hot springs, the picturesque mountains, and above all: Relaxing!! It’s going to be great. We just have to figure out how we’re going to get there…I’m sure I’ll think of something brilliant.
Victoria just came for a quick “Merry Christmas” visit. Lovely wine goblets…what a great gift. These things are massive! “I just had one glass…”
I have to admit, I’m all about this brown Christmas. Seriously. I’m going home for a few days during the Christmas break. I’m going to help mum with the enormous Ukrainian feast that will occur tomorrow night. This meal is so huge it takes two days to prepare…my mum is the best cook in the world. I bet she could end wars with her cooking. Mmmm…I can’t wait.
So to all my dear readers, I wish you a fabulous Christmas and a fantastic New Year. Best wishes in this delightful holiday season and all that sappy trash we all pretend is ever so meaningful. Ha ha. But seriously everyone: Merry Christmas.

Quote du Jour
“I won’t buy my cereal based on rappers, but I will buy my butter based on philosophers.”
-Jordan

Jordan's English 217 Reading Report of Brilliance

2005-12-01T02:14:00.000-06:00

Jordan Abel
English 217
Prof. M O’Driscoll
Thursday, December 1st, 2005

Response Paper #2: Harvey’s “Structures of Exemplarity”

“You have reached the department of philosophy at the Pennsylvania State University. Our office hours are nine to five Monday through Friday. We’re unable to take your call at the moment, but please leave a message and we’ll get back to you. Thank you.”

“Fuck!” I said as I returned my phone to the receiver. The woman’s drab, dry voice did not help me at all. In fact, it angered me more than anything. It would have been better if it had been Irene’s actual office number. In which case I would have left some sort of message. Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t have the balls to leave any messages at all.

Keltie burst into my room, and said, “we need to knock over Fort Knox, cause I want a house like they have.” She had just been watching The Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous. She threw her arms around my neck, as she typically does, and asked, “whatcha doin’?”

“I just called this chicks office.” I said.

“Holy shit Jordan! That is the most brilliant idea ever! Brilliant!” She was ecstatic. “It’s too bad we can’t do this for Derrida.”

I quickly googled Derrida’s name. However, as it was loading, Keltie pointed out that Derrida was dead.

“He’s dead!?”

“Yeah, it was in that movie we watched. Something about him buttering an english muffin.”

I laughed, “oh yeah?”

“Yeah, but how wicked would that be? Hello! Derrida! Jacques! Could you please do me a huge favour? Explain to me your entire theory. In twenty-five words or less. Preferably small words. Hell, why not make it twenty.”

“That would be the best idea ever!”

“Clearly.”

“You know, I had a similar idea for Irene. Only she’s alive.” I sat on my computer and wondered how I could work the word “corpse” into the next sentence. Hey! I did it! Fuck yeah! “I bet this is the most profanity he’s gotten in a reading report.”

“I bet this is the only profanity he’s ever gotten in a reading report.” Keltie was now sitting on my floor, twirling a stack of twelve blank CD’s.

“Fuck, it sure won’t be the last he sees. All I have to do now is work some random quotation.”

What to quote…What to quote… Chambers says that, “his childish attempt to salvage some narrative authority by withholding” (Chambers 291). Fuck. That’s the worst quote ever. It’s not even the right essay!

Jesus. I have no idea why Harvey is rehashing the dialogue between Lacan and Derrida, but especially when they are both just attempting to use Poe as an example. Wow. Philosophers have way too much time on their hands.

“I wish I was a philosopher Keltie.” I said, as I turned towards her.

“Yeah! Then you could contemplate the correct the way to butter an english muffin. You know… that’s what I would ask Derrida. What butter did you use on your english muffin? Enough of this Fifty-Cent and Eminem product endorsements. I want to use the butter of a genius!”

I broke out laughing. “I won’t buy my breakfast cereal based on rappers, but I will buy my butter based on philosophers!”

Works Cited:

Chambers, Ross. “Narratorial Authority.” The Purloined Poe. Eds. John Muller and William Richardson. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 285-306.

Without the glamour.

2005-11-28T01:02:00.000-06:00

Sitting at a desk, hunched over and squinting at the enigmatic words in front of me on the computer screen. Freud, Lacan, Saussure. An extra-large cup of mud-thick lukewarm coffee in a mug that reads “princess”. Smeared make-up, residue of the day past. Highlighters as far as the eye can see, and surrounded in stacks of papers and textbooks the size of your average telephone book. Scrub-styled pants and a generic tank top, with U of A hoodie unzipped, pushed up around the elbows. Midnight seems so early, target “finish” time is approx 4am. The continual stress and constant position cause muscles to spasm in the back and neck, as music wafts across the apartment from my roommates room. Identical to the perception of university life back in high school, but without the glamour.

Thank God for spellcheck.

And the brilliance continues…

2005-11-22T23:13:00.000-06:00

BRAIN CRAMPS
Question: If you could live forever, would you and why? Answer: "I would not live forever, because we should not live forever, because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever, but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever."
Miss America 1995 from Alabama Heather Whitestone

"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff."
Popular Pop Singer
Mariah Carey

"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost
a very important part of your life,"(During an interview to become Spokesperson for federal anti-smoking campaign.
Model, movie and TV actress
Brooke Shields

"I've never had major knee surgery on any other part of my body," University of Kentucky Basketball ForwardWinston Bennett

"Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country,"
Washington DC MayorMarion Barry

"That lowdown scoundrel deserves to be kicked to death by a jackass, and I'm just the one to do it,"A congressional candidate in Texas

"Half this game is ninety percent mental."
Philadelphia Phillies Manager
Danny Ozark

"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it."
Vice President
Al Gore

"We are ready for any unforeseen event that may or may not occur."
Vice President Al Gore

"I love California. I practically grew up in Phoenix."
Vice President Dan Quayle

"We've got to pause and ask ourselves,
How much clean air do we need?"
Chrysler Chairman and CEO
Lee Iacocca

"The word "genius" isn't applicable in football.
A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein."
NFL Quarterback and Sports Analyst Joe Theisman

"We don't necessarily discriminate. We simply
exclude certain types of people."
ROTC Instructor Colonel Gerald Wellman

"If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure."
President Bill Clinton

"Traditionally, most of Australia's
imports come from overseas."
Keppel Enderbery

"Your food stamps will be stopped effective March 1992 because we received notice that you passed away. May God bless you. You may reapply if there is a change in your circumstances."
Greenville, South Carolina Department of Social Services

"If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next morning, when they wake up dead, there'll be a record."

FCC ChairmanMark S. Fowler

Fait Accomplit Release Party Synopsi

2005-11-19T16:32:00.000-06:00

It was a marvelous release, with very few complications. Sure, I got all bitchy at the lame people who were occupying the area when we were trying to set up, and sure I nearly blew a gasket at all the disorganization at the beginning; but all in all it was pretty good.

Except for the sound.

Fuck. When the rentals for the mikes fell through, and we weren’t able to book ALL of Dewey’s, just the top section of the lounge, I was worried. And as it turned out, I was right to be. The readers were marvelous…I think. I couldn’t hear a damn thing, and either could anyone else. Dammit! But, I think everyone had a pretty good sense of humor about it, and people heard bits and pieces.

So the good parts:

-I feel that I looked right for the occasion; not too dressy, but dressy enough that people knew who to look for in the crowd.

-I also feel that I was a strong reader; when I had to read for others who were too nervous, I think that I did a good job. I did my best at walking around the room, so everyone would hear a little bit. Oh, and I think I did a snazzy job MC-ing. Rumor has it that it wasn’t obvious just how badly I was shaking. Three cheers for wine and false confidence! Whoo!!

-We sold out within the first 20 mins; a new Fait Accomplit record! Also, we had 16 people attend our release last year; this year was a record 42 people! Oh yeah, baby. And not only did we sell out, but we made a profit. First time THAT’S happened in years!

- I want to say thanks to all my friends who made the effort at coming out, and hauling people out with them. Bo and his nifty Rocky Horror loving friend, Chelsey, Christine, and Jordan, thank you a million times over for coming out, supporting me, HELPING ME, and contributing to Fait Accomplit. Really. It meant a lot to see you all sitting there.

-Now that it’s over, and despite all the negative aspects of the night, I would deem it a success. But the best part of it is, I get a month and a half break from all things Fait Accomplit, until it’s time to get the ball rolling for the spring edition. Which, by the way, I have full intentions of shamelessly plugging on this blog, and nagging ya’ll to submit your work. “SUBMIT YOURSELF” will be the next slogan. I sadly came up with it a day too late for this one.

Anyway, now it’s time to return to the work that I’ve been neglecting. This 12 page essay is my personal Dystopia...stupid sci fi class.

-K

Quote du Jour
“It has to be a Synposi. After all, you’re talking about many Synopsis!”
-Jordan

U of A Rant #2

2005-11-14T23:33:00.000-06:00

Okay. I have to voice this. Even of you’re taking a class that is required of you to obtain your degree, you should clearly THINK about the stupidity that flies out of your mouth during said class. Honestly. Jordan and I are in this terrible C Lit class together that is filled with science students, who are renowned for their incredible ability to entirely miss the point of all literature we’ve covered thus far. This evening we were discussing the feminine characteristics of a particular woman in the text, and this little slice of brilliance popped out of a girl’s mouth:

“Well, really, the only thing that makes Molly female is her sexuality.”

Thanks for that astute observation, eagle-eye. That’s equivalent to saying that the only thing that really makes up a book is pages and words. How the hell have you progressed this far in your academic career?

Honestly!

-K

Quote du Jour
“Okay, that was only mostly my fault!”
-Geoff

Post-ish

2005-11-14T00:38:00.000-06:00

Yeah, so I fill out one of these about once every year when I’m seriously avoiding the work that I should be doing. Tonight was no exception. So here it is…one of those retarded emails we all get from that friend who’s bored at work, the “about me” email. If ya’ll feel the urge, fill one out about your own bad selves and leave it in the comments for me to enjoy.
And I feel it’s important to stress three imperative reason’s why I’m posting this:

So Chelsey stops threatening me to post
So Bo stops using phrases like “damnation, woman!”
So Geoff has a written source to refer back to about my likes and dislikes that doesn’t involve him putting info into his phone.
Enjoy!

1. What time is it? 11:38 p.m.

2. Name: Keltie Samantha Fisk

3. Nickname: Kelt

4. Piercings? Nada

5. What is the most recent movie you've seen? Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (My boyfriend rocks because he puts up with my love of HP. In fact, one might go as far as to say that I am jiggy with the potter)

6. Eye color: Brown…but red during exam week

7. Place of birth: Edmonton

8. Favorite foods: At this point? Something that didn’t cost me any money! Yeah, or you know, a solid red tenderloin.

9. Ever been to Africa : No…not yet.

10. Ever been toilet papering (rolling)? no

11. Love someone so much it made you cry: I refuse to respond to the question on the grounds that it’s far too girly.

12. Been in a car accident: I sure has hell haven’t been in two in the last few months. (cheap shot). Nah, a fender bender in high school.

13. Croutons or bacon bits: Yuck, neither.

14. Favorite day of the week: Sunday morning

15. Favorite restaurant: I’m a huge fan of The Keg. I’m also partial to Olive Garden. Oh, and BP’s, seeing as how it’s a cornerstone of my relationship.

16. Favorite Flower: It’s really all just work to me…but I would have to say dendrobium orchids (stem dyed) and calla lilies.

17. Favorite sport to watch: Skiing, Football.

18. Favorite drink: Beer, Diet Coke, and coffee. The true drink of the champions.

19. Favorite ice cream: It is has the word “maple”, I’m so into it.

20. Disney or Warner Brothers: Disney...but then again, they don’t have Yacko, Wacko, OR Dot.

21. Favorite fast food restaurant: Pita Pit, Quizno’s

22. What color is your bedroom carpet? That’s assuming I can actually SEE the carpet in question. But between the dropped eyeliner stains and the mountain of freshly laundered clothing, I would venture to guess a dusty rose color. (that was once simply rose)

23. How many times you failed your driver's test? I didn’t fail…but I DID nearly hit a cat when attempting to parallel park.

24. What happened to the real question here???? The question we should all be asking is what DIDN’T happen to the real question here?

25. Which store would you choose to Max out your credit card ? Pravda. Hands down.

26. What do you do most often when you are bored? Sadly, pick up a book or fill out questionnaires when I’m avoiding Fait Accomplit work. Oh, or visit (read: irritate) my roommate.

27. Bedtime: Sleep is for the weak.

28. Who will respond to this e-mail the quickest? Seeing as how I’m going to kill two birds with one stone and just post it on my blog as a lame cop-out as to Chelsey and Bo’s incessant nagging about my serious lack of post, none.

29. Who are you the most curious about their responses to this questionnaire? I’m sure Chelsey will have some smart-ass remark to share with the world and Christine will mock me about some aspect of it later.

31. Favorite TV shows: If it’s not animated, I don’t bother. (with one exception: Arrested Development). Barring that, Futurama, Simpsons, Family Guy and anything that provides distraction from the task at hand.

32. Last person you went to dinner with: My roommate, actually. We made some rather runny taco’s. (“Dammit, Jordan!”) Other then that, my sweetie.

33. Ford or Chevy: My car is a Ford, and I godda say I’m a big fan of my car. But that’s pretty much because it’s red and sorta fast (ish)

34. What are you listening to right now: The sound of my nails on the keys. That and the shitty plumbing in my building. Give it a sec *ambles away* Aerosmith.
35. What is your favorite color: Bloody-murder Red, Burnt Orange

36. How many tattoos do you have: Just the one….”Integrity” written across the middle of my back in Thai.

37. How many pets do you have: Jordan sheds a lot…oh, and my Fish of Spite, Capulet

38. Which came first the chicken or the chicken egg? Clearly, that’s the great epiphany we all experience when we die. I bet a lot of souls are pissed. (“That’s IT? DAMMIT!”)

39. How many people are you sending this e-mail to: Blog. So how many readers? Two. Three if I’m lucky.

40. What would be your favorite anniversary gift? Hello realm of the hypothetical. I’m unwed, BUT. Knowing me and Geoff? Something entirely retarded and really, really cool. Like going to Vegas to pretend that we’ve just met and want to get drunkenly married.
Actually, that’s a GREAT idea. If not…then still something wicked cool.

41. What’s you favorite accent? Geoff’s impression of the Boston Crayfish in Finding Nemo. (“It’s wicked dark down there”)

Oh yeah., What a fantastic waste of time for all parties involved.

-K

Quote du Jour
“Not in my Fantasy Hammock, Keltie…”
-Jordan

Fait Accomplit Release Party!!

2005-11-10T02:35:00.000-06:00

Poetry, Photography, and Prose, oh my!

Fait Accomplit is proud to announce it’s newest edition!

Come one, come all to Dewey’s Lounge on Friday, November 18th between 7 -9pm to celebrate it’s spectacular debut in style!

Copies of the new fait accomplit will be available for $10, and back issues for $5.

Displays from some of our most talented photographers and readings from our dear contributors will be featured throughout the evening.

See you there!

Give us your babies!

2005-09-28T23:42:00.000-06:00

Greetings All!

Another year, another round of harassing my creative, beautiful, and talented friends. You all know what that means-Fait Accomplit is on the go again, and I want to encourage all of you to share your creative side with the world!

What is she babbling on about? Let me fill ya in…

You know, that precious little thing you hide under your bed yet are still desperate to show someone…

The fall edition of fait accomplit is currently seeking submissions! Any prose, poetry or pretty pictures you would like to send our way must make in by October 21st. We’re interested in a variety of themes, languages and sizes, but only want your best. We accept entries from anyone, anywhere, from people both on and off campus, world-wide. Poetry and prose will be accepted in any language, and there is no minimum or maximum length requirement. Photographs can be black and white or colour, however they will be published in black and white.

Written or photographic submissions have no thematic restrictions, though publication will be up to the discretion of the editorial board.
Send your submissions electronically, preferably in Word or JPEG format, to faitaccomplit@yahoo.ca. Or, deliver them to our mailbox in 1-53 Humanities.

This is a great way to build a portfolio, get some recognition, or just plain ‘ole express yourself. Join in, what have you got to lose?

Feel free to contact either myself our editorial board with any questions, concerns, comments, or queries!

Cheers!

Keltie Fisk
Fait Accomplit President

And yes, you likely DID get this in the form of an email. And no, I have no issue with using my blog as a shameless plug for FA.

-K

Oh yeah. I'm dating -That Guy-

2005-09-26T00:19:00.000-06:00

"When it comes to boobs...I'm Rainman!"
-Geoff

There’s a lot of lamenting done about relationships. Some people aren’t happy, some feel that it’s too much work, and others can’t find that person to make it work with. I used to count myself among those people, and Lord knows I did enough relationship bitching when I began this Blog. But since Geoff and I started dating, I noticed that my mindset has changed. Now, I know what you’re thinking. And no, this isn’t about to get all mushy. But I do want to share with you a few things that I’ve discovered over the last few months.

-The Disclaimer Talk is the absolute best possible conversation to have following the establishment of a relationship. Just get it all out of the way, and if things get sticky down the road, then at least you can point out that they have been forewarned.

-Formulaic drivel belongs solely to the movies and Fabio. A kiss on the forehead has the potential to say volumes more then “I love you more then the sun…the moon….blah.”

-One of the most romantic dates is sitting on the couch in sweats and laughing at a sitcom. (In our case, Scrubs.)

-If he says he’s not thinking anything…he’s not thinking anything. Just accept it and move forward with your life.

-If she says she wants to talk…see above statement.

-It is possible to have a big relationship talk and watch a cartoon at the same time. This is why God gave us commercials.

-Pillow talk is overrated. And following that:

-It is also possible to have a conversation comprised entirely of sarcasm.

-Pet names should never coincide with a food product.

-Don’t get bent out of shape over stupid little incidences. Relax, let the little things go. Everyone needs a victory once in a while.

And by far, the biggest and most important relationship lesson I’ve learned:

-Don’t be too serious. If the relationship is meant to be serious, then it will take it’s natural course. Better to enjoy the journey then to soley focus on the destination. And above all else: laugh together and have fun. (And yes, this is much easier said then done.)

Now, I’m not a relationship guru, and I’m definitely not about to claim that I’m in the most problem-free relationship ever. There will be rough patches, fights, disagreements, and lots of problems in our future. But at the moment, I think these little lessons that I’ve learned have contributed to something pretty incredible.

(Okay. So there was some mush.)

-K

You’ve come a long way, baby.

2005-09-23T00:29:00.000-06:00

Four years ago, I prided myself on the amount of shoes in my closet, and defined myself by being one of the popular people. Three years ago, I prided myself on the amount of shoes and purses in my closet, and defined myself by taking on Project Fixit. Two years ago I prided myself on the amount of shoes, purses and sunglasses in my closet, and defined myself by being an academic bookworm. One year ago I prided myself on the amount of shoes, purses, sunglasses and perfumes in my closet, and defined myself by being a feminist. Today, I pride myself on actually owning a closet, and define myself as being Me. (Plus I have a lot of really cool accessories). My point is, we’ve all changed a lot these past few years. I look around at my loved ones, and I see such a significant metamorphosis in all of us. It makes me reel to think that it’s only just beginning. We all have such major milestones to come to, be it getting married, obtaining a degree (or three) or traveling the world. We’ve all done so much, and have so much more to tackle. It’s exhilarating, terrifying, and liberating all at the same time.

Bring it on.

-K

Quote du Jour
"Clearly a minor epiphany...ignore! Ignore! "
-Jordan

Do not exceed recommended dosage of sass.

2005-08-26T13:56:00.000-06:00

I’ve come to the conclusion that I might as well embrace my inner sass. I spend so much time thinking these uber-sassy comments and keeping them to myself. See, most people are either sassy and witty or socially retarded. I have this unique hybrid of the two. It’s troubling when it comes to that line that you just don’t want to cross with those that you hardly know. Example. Last month I went to a wedding with Geoff, where I met his charming brother. And by charming, I mean socially handicapped. This guy was unbelievable. He degraded me, informed Geoff that I was a bitch, and put 100% of his efforts into trying to get a rise out of me via shock value. I think I handled it remarkably well, only letting a few of the sassy comments escape. But the various bits of pure sass, those offensive witticisms that flew through my head and rolled around on my tongue, longing to jump forth into the world, were remarkable. But what, apart from social norms, stopped me from cutting this guy down? I didn’t want to disturb the unique dynamic the two of us had established, this undertone of a mental game that whispered and rustled against our conversations. We were both equally aware that we had entered into this contest, a proverbial tennis match with wit as ball and sass as the rackets. Geoff surveyed the affair all evening, a hypothetical referee ready to jump in and divert disaster should the sass be replaced with venom.
My point is, that by holding back and not being entirely feisty, I was able to play this game against a worthy competitor. Had I followed my immediate instinct and been completely sassy, I would likely have transcended the line that is wit, and entered into the realm of awkward social retardation. A large part of sass and wit is the ability to pick and choose certain battles. This is why the embrace of the inner sass becomes so vital.

-K

Uof A rant #1

2005-08-24T00:26:00.000-06:00

$ 682 FOR TEXBOOKS FOR ONE SEMESTER???? THIS ISN’T EDUCATION, IT’S HIGHWAY FUCKING ROBBERY!!!!

The Lessons of Summer

2005-08-23T01:51:00.000-06:00

Slacker might be a good term for my blog posts of late. Yes, my darling readers, I have been MIA when it comes to posting for the last month. But just wait until school begins, and there will be a plethora of posts to entertain you, as I rant and rage about the inherent injustice a student will inevitably suffer at the proverbial hands of the University of Alberta.
For the moment, though, all I have to offer are some various insights that this eventful summer has had to offer. So here, for your reading enjoyment, are The Lessons of Summer:

-Camping is always fun, though I have a sneaking suspicion that it might be even more fun when it’s not pouring.
-Practice is overrated; when you have incredible luck starting a fire, call the fluke a “knack” and take pride in it.
-Going out on the town every single weekend and getting sloshed is socially acceptable behavior when it’s summertime. And following that…
-…debauchery and hedonism hurt the following morning.
-When working a full time job over the summer months and anything goes wrong at said job, it’s important to remember that it is NOT your career.
-Moving out of your parent’s house is terrifying and invigorating all at the same time. But the true beauty of the matter is knowing that your mum will always have a place for you at the kitchen table with a cuppa and a sympathetic ear. The best part of moving out is the knowledge that you are always welcome back and that you are unconditionally loved.
-Working for a morally bankrupt company will haunt you for months to come, but will make you appreciate the support of your friends more then you ever knew before.
-Summer is undoubtedly the best time to fall in love.
-It’s important to stay positive, even when the most dismal situations hover on the horizon. Learning not to dread the possible future bumps, but to welcome the imminent challenge is the fundamental backbone to a relationship.
-Living with a roommate of the opposite sex is awesome; it allows one a lot of insight into the mystery of the other gender without clouding the evidence with sappy emotion.
-Also; living with a guy teaches one to relax and take things a little bit easier. If there are dirty dishes in the sink, one learns to be grateful that they aren’t on the floor attracting wildlife.
- If you ever think that nobody cares about you, try making a late payment on an Epcore bill. Trust me. They care.
-Laugh at yourself. Nobody, and I means nobody, is ever above making retarded mistakes.
-True friendship knows not the restraint of geography.
-Take pride in the smallest accomplishments. Hanging pictures, cooking meager meals, driving on the Whitemud or even just getting over a childish fear of insects or thunderstorms is a big deal.
- Fiscal responsibility is important, but not central; weighing the monetary consequences and indulging is one of the most satisfying feelings in the world. Even if it means living off of soda crackers and raiding the cupboards of friends and family for two weeks.
-It truly is the little things that make this life fabulous.
-Cherish the fun. Really.
-It is possible to make a manly gift basket.
-It is entirely worth sacrificing luxury items, sleep, and personal welfare to sit at a computer desk for hours on end and compose a story that will make your loved one smile.
-The expiry date on meat is accurate and not to be questioned, even if the meat has been frozen for its time spent on this earth.
-The walls are not soundproof. Sorry.
-If someone does something to make you smile, pay it forward.
-Never, ever compromise your integrity. It is what makes you who you are. Take pride in it.
-Rejoice the mornings that are not dictated by an alarm. As time progresses, they will become few and far in between.

And finally…

Enjoy your youth and all it encompasses; as cliché as it might be, these really are the best times of our lives.

Quote du Jour
“The Tier of Doom are all those conversations that will inevitable screw you over, no matter what.”
-Jordan

A masterful use of the word “snog”

2005-07-28T21:31:00.000-06:00

Getting accepted to University, seeing Steven Tyler perform live, and the way I felt when I cracked open “Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince” are among the most exhilarating moments in my life. Okay, sure, I’ve done lots of other exciting things in my life. But reading that masterpiece was definitely up there.
So kids, I godda say, that when I sat in my favorite red chair in my living room, I hadn’t honestly planned on not moving for the next 11 hours. But God help me, I wasn’t about to leave Harry, Ron, and Hermione for anything. It was awesome. I’m not going to delve too deeply into the plot, as some of you might not have read it yet, or become entranced by Rowling’s spell (no pun intended), but I will say that I was impressed. It was like a visit from that really old friend that you rarely ever see, but have no problems catching up with when you do see them. Sure, I now have to live off of soda crackers for the next week because I didn’t bother to wait for the soft cover to come out. But dammit, it was worth it.

-K

Quote du Jour
“Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge”
- J. K Rowling

Babble

2005-07-19T13:26:00.000-06:00

I admit that I’m the worst slacker ever when it comes to blogging these days. All I’ve been doing is working and seeing my family, friends, and sweetie. This leaves surprisingly little time for sitting down at my computer and just blogging about nothing.
Still, the free time that has been otherwise occupied has been fun. I love the fact that liquor flows so abundantly in the summertime. Don’t get me wrong-I still that have uber-nerdy mentality of “I can’t get loaded tonight, I have work/school/some other nerdy priority” tomorrow morning.”. I must admit that I did a fair job of destroying this mentality on Saturday when we went out to the Riverbend Boston Pizza’s. But that wasn’t really my doing, it was more Geoff looking at me in his sardonic fashion and pointing out that I’m not 50 years old, don’t have kids, and put far too much emphasis on “mature and responsible” decisions. I decided he was right, and had a great night fueled by beer, supported by great conversation, and completed by a drunken saunter home with three of my favorite guys (yes, believe it or not, that actually includes Zan. I mean, we did get engaged. I have to include him at some point.). For those of you who are wondering, Zan and I decided that when we’re 65 and unwed, we’ll get married out of desperation so that we can have a spouse to torture, humiliate, and ultimately share our misery. I can’t quite recall WHY we made this agreement, but I’m sure we knew what we were doing. Anyway, it was a super night with my fabulous roomie Jordan, his buddy and my apparent fiancé Zan, my wonderful boyfriend Geoff, and my favorite co-workers Krista and Alex. To round off the party was Alex’s fiancé Simon, who I quite liked. Vic and Aaron also joined us briefly, but had other people to see. All in all, it was a good night. With the exception of jumping down off the bar stool and running outside ever time a cigarette was wanted.
Which brings me to my other rant about this no smoking in bars shit. I HATE the fact that we all have to heard outside and light up. It’s a total joke, I’m not a big fan of the interesting drunken men that we encounter when we go out. I hate getting leered at the best of times, when I’ve been drinking and I’m feisty it’s far worse. I didn’t do anything, and fought to keep the sarcasm at a minimum, but if this is a pattern that is going to continue, then I might have to think about quitting. I’ve actually given it a lot of thought lately. It’s such a stupid thing to do, and I just know that Geoff is going to try and quit this winter. I don’t smoke inside my home, car, or work, so really that just leaves me the -40 bullshit to deal with. So am I going to quit? Maybe. Let the temperature call the shots.
So last night I had an interesting experience. My apartment was empty, so I did my hair all cute, and made sure I looked decent. I lit a candle and invited Geoff over…when he got here, he declared a deep hankering for some Die Hard, and I wound up feeling my cute hair go flat, my cute outfit get wrinkled, and witnessed Bruce Willis pretend to be superhuman with blood, guns, and explosions for three hours. Any other time, I would have been pissed. But I was just content to be with him, and didn’t even mind watching a formulaic action film for three hours. He even got a back massage while watching the film. I guess this experience just proves that there are varying ways to attain intimacy, and weirdly enough, Die Hard wasn’t all that shabby a method.
Oh, and can I just add on a nice little “fuck you” to all those who were lucky enough to obtain the new Harry Potter book? It’s Harry Potter or basic living, and as it is, I’m thinking I might just live off soda crackers for a week so I can buy the book. And the “fuck you” is only intended for those who can’t keep their mouths shut about it.

Okay kids, I have to add this into my blog. I found it on Jdot’s, and I liked it, so I’m just going to directly copy and paste the one we did together

I found this on Guillaume's blog (i've made a few minor changes)
:01. Reply with your name and I will write something short about you.
02. I will then tell what literary work that I think aptly characterizes you.
03. If I were to apply a day of the week to you, it would be...
04. I will try to name a single word that best describes you.
05. I'll tell you the most memorable moment I've had with you.
06. I will tell you what animal you remind me of.
07. I'll then tell you something that I've always wondered about you.
08. Put this in your journal.

Now I'll give you an example of what my response might be. I'll use what he wrote about me.

1. Keltie
2. valley of the dolls
3. Wednesday afternoon
4. calculating
5. vic and aarons bbq
6. definatley a cat

7. why do you trust my opinion about your shoes?
C’mon. It’s uber-nerdy fun.

Anyway, that’s it for now. See ya on the flip side.

-K

Quote du Jour
“Othello is the shit!”
-Simon

University students + Blood alcohol level of high school students = Mentality of Jr. high students.

2005-07-08T13:46:00.000-06:00

Hello dear readers. Today, I have no inner reveling, nor do I have any insightful dialogue or amazing stories of my life written in first person. All I have for you today is a tale of drunken wonderment that Chesley and I pursued with a vengeance. See, around 8:00 at work, I was saddened because my momentous plans for the evening included reading Valley of the Dolls for the zillionth time, and missing my sweetie, who was attending a work-related function. So I called Chesley, and suggested that we get rowdy. Chel, being an inherent rummy at heart, readily agreed. So after work she came over, and as always, with Chelsey comes shots. I musts reiterate; we were on a mission of rowdiness. So a long story short, we drank shots for a bit, then moved on to some lovely pina colada mixture that I’m sure my neighbors must have just loved me for, seeing as how it involved a very loud blender in the middle of the night. Anyway, as Chelsey, Jdot and I were hanging out and listening to Chelsey’s music, my sweetie dropped by! It was a wonderful surprise, I was so happy to see him. So the four of us hung out for a while, discussing the virtues of Panasonic vs Canon camera equipment, and the level of Chelsey’s intoxication. Sadly, Geoff departed, so the three of us hung out on the futon outside. Time passed, as time is wont to do, and Jdot retired for bed, seeing as how he had to work early. So now it was just the two girls and a whole lot of booze. We had some more to drink, and decided that 2am is obviously the best time for a stroll around my neighborhood. We went and found a park, with some decidedly high structures on it. Laughing and stumbling ensued, as I witnessed Chelsey dizzy herself on a swing (brilliant thing to do whilst drunk), and attempt to climb the structures with me. I have little to no grace, but I still remained the queen of dexterity in comparison to her. Anyway, on the jaunt back to my place, we ran into three other hoodlums who were on the mean streets of Riverbend at 3:30 in the morning, Chelsey was convinced that a fire hydrant and a sandbag were both bunnies (on two completely separate occasions), and we pondered the ultimate coolness of sitting alone in one’s darkened living room playing ominous muszak on a keyboard, while pining for a lost childhood sweetheart. (at least someone was cooler then us last night.). Anyway, upon returning to my place, we had some more to drink, and decided that checking out the pool at 4am was definitely a good idea. I mean, what could be safer then two drunk girls, unsupervised, attempting to re-create the synchro routine they had a decade ago in a large concrete crevice? Anyway, we splashed around, did some laps, and raced a bit. We were getting a bit bored, when I discovered the rubber balls. Shit, we were entertained for another solid hour, drunkenly spiking the ball a la volleyball and smashing it into one another’s faces. We also floated on them, bounced them off all available surfaces, pretended that they were unborn children, and made vulgar references to any body part that could conceivably be round. We also laughed our heads off, and relished being two highly intelligent university students who had the mentality of twelve year olds. We swam and watched the dawn break through the windows of the pool, until I pointed out that booze, towels, and cigarettes lived on the fourth floor, and we were on the first. Chelsey agreed to the first two, and threw me a dirty look for the latter. Anyway, we came back upstairs, and enjoyed a faux-nightcap on the balcony as we watched the sky turn from charcoal to pink, and mocked all the WASP-y looking neighbors of mine who were crawling into their Landrovers to go to the office at 5:30 in the morning, when we still had not slept. As 6am rolled around, we decided that although we weren’t dead tired, it might be a good plan to get some sleep, as the birds chirping in the trees were a constant reminder that most Normal people were starting their day as we were ending ours.

Quote du Jour
“I find that it’s easier to answer questions when they’re in font.”
-Chelsey

A profoundly unremarkable insight into my life

2005-06-29T12:04:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-28T01:41:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-19T05:27:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-10T00:39:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-06T19:56:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-05T23:08:00.000-06:00

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

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

2005-05-29T13:54:00.000-06:00

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.

2005-05-23T12:47:00.000-06:00

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!!!

2005-05-13T19:27:00.000-06:00

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.

2005-05-08T20:28:00.000-06:00

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.

2005-05-06T01:22:00.000-06:00

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.

2005-05-04T12:01:00.000-06:00

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

2005-05-03T15:12:00.000-06:00

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.

2005-05-01T11:11:00.000-06:00

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.

Hiatus

2005-04-28T07:01:00.000-06:00

For various reasons, Bitches Brew will likely be going on hiatus for a little while. Thanks to those who maintained an active interest.

-Keltie

Où est la bibliothèque rouge ?

2005-04-27T16:49:00.000-06:00

In an effort to make my blogs smaller and therefore more bearable to read, I will sum up particular events in the blog fashion of late

-I AM SO HAPPY THAT I –NEVER- HAVE TO DEAL WITH FMS EVER AGAIN! Seriously, I sold my damn book an hour before the exam.

-Chelsey and I will eternally be looking for the red library.

-I have less then 24 hours until total freedom

-The BBQ with The Family is going to be so sweet. Special thanks to Adot for offering his pad.

-Yes, I like to talk like I’m stuck in the 1970’s.

-Funky Budda is undergoing repairs from smoke damage (HUB burned down) so we might have to find a new watering hole already. Sad, I know.

-I truly do believe that Anthropology is the bane of my existence.

-Oh, it's been a -very- long day. And promises to be an equally long night. Damn you, Anthro!

-K

Quote du Jour

“In Europe, we do not have fires…only…PASSION!!” *exhale the faux Q-tip cigarette smoke*

-Chelsey Campbell

Disclaimer

2005-04-27T00:15:00.000-06:00

In response to Jordon’s latest blog, I have decided to clarify something: I’m all about the idea that two soul mates can find one another, fall in love, and enjoy wedded bliss. The origin of my point is: not right NOW. It’s youthful marriage that drives me insane, and I’m talking about the mentality that goes a little something like this:

*while chewing on bubble gum and twirling hair around one finger* “What do I want to do when I graduate? Have babies and a husband to take care of me.” *vacant expression while head cocked to one side*

24+ is around the time to begin prospecting marriage and the things that that can encompass. I know that I’m not at a level of maturity where I can commit to a man for the rest of my life-I want far too much. And I’m too damn independent. I could rant some more, but I really want to say that I do support marriage. To me marriage is a spiritual journey, not a religious one. It’s also an exciting adventure to share with another person. I just don’t think that wanting it at 20 is a very wise choice. Gimme another decade, and we’ll chat again.

I fully respect the views that Jordon had portrayed, and thank him profoundly for sharing such personal beliefs. And personally, I think he would be an amazing father, because he is one of the most gentle and tender individuals I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Thanks for reading.

-K

To: The Family

2005-04-26T19:53:00.000-06:00

So just a comment to The Family: we’re an attractive group of twentysomethings, and damn if we don’t work well together. I’ve decided to take a page out of Jordo’s book, and thank those who have helped and supported me so much.

Special Thanks To:

-Victoria aka Vdot
-Jordon aka Jdot
-Aaron aka Adot
-Darcy aka Ddot
-Zan aka Zdot

Each of you have done something incredibly special and touched my life in a unique way. Thank you.

XOXO
Keltie aka Kel-lite aka Kdot

Insane Rant

2005-04-26T09:54:00.000-06:00

So why get married? Why spend the rest of your life with only one person? Why do people feel the urge to “Settle”, and as if that’s not bad enough, why do we get the urge to settle when we’re young? Known fact: almost 50% of marriages since 2003 end in divorce. That’s half, for those of you who can’t do even the simplest math. But why get married at such a young age? Known fact: Young people still want to get married. Why? We even have superficial role models, ala Carrie Braless, um, Bradshaw, on Sex In The City. Old women looking for the right man while screwing all the wrong ones. Lesson well learned. I mean, why not? Never mind the age of AIDS, that’s no biggie, right? Better find The Perfect Mate right away. This show targets my age group. I want to BE Carrie Bradshaw. I want to be glamorous! I want to be beautiful! I want to be size zero with a great wardrobe and hair that has been so influenced by sex that it’s climaxing even while I’m not! I want Carrie Bradshaw! I demand Carrie Bradshaw! Bring me Carrie Bradshaw! But I digress.
Why get married? Will somebody explain why I’m cursed with this “damned if I do and dammed if I don’t” theory. I want to have a career, travel, be well educated, find the perfect man, find the perfect t place to live, live in at least four countries before settling down, have a career that will allow all that, be able to have a bank account that will not only cover the expenses of my life of luxury but also my future kids collage tuition, and be a house mom when it’s demanded of me (as it inevitably will, even in this age. A midnight cough has no respect for Neo-Feminism.). What the Hell kind of life am I living when I feel the pressure of expectations welling up inside of me when I’m only –only- 20 years old!?!?! Explain this to me, please, I’m oh so young and naïve, and above all, perhaps the only one of my wonderful paradox of an age group who either has a great lonely grip on reality, or is completely and blissfully insane. Either way, it makes very little sense that I can count off on two hands the amount of girls in my graduating class whose maxim ambition was to get married and become a baby machine by age 23. For lack of a better term, ew.
So why, then, is there this insistent nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, like some little guilt or secret indulgence that I feel I must have? Why, in the age of said equality, do I feel the nagging urge to snag the man, and get him to commit for keeps? Why? This makes the same amount of sense as an Arts student in a Quantum Physics final. And that’s all I have to say about that.

-K

Quote du Jour

I'm a red hot pistol and I'm ready to fight
I'm a 38 special on a Saturday night
I'm gonna kiss your boo-boo honey
make it alright
'cause I'm ready, so ready
-Steven Tyler

The light at the end of the tunnel.

2005-04-25T19:00:00.000-06:00

Yeah. So about that goo phase….no such thing!!! In fact, I was oblivious to the entire goo process. Seriously, I feel great. AND FREE!
So today has been rather sketchy, (yes Christine, sketchy.) I woke up in good spirits, and got ready to go do my English 386 final project with my buds, and only the knowledge that I would never have to deal with Sailor Chick, Kelly, or anything related to working class ever again gave me the motivation to get out of bed and the momentum to get to the final. SO I get to my car, turn the ignition, and…nothing. NOTHING HAPPENED!!! My car was DEAD. I was DEVESTATED. So. Keltie learned how to boost her car unsupervised today. A lot of cursing and one mild but painful shock later, I was breaking the sound barrier in a mad attempt to be at least a wee bit on time. Then I looked down, and that delightful orange “low fuel” light was glaring brightly up at me from my dash. Dammit. Can I make it to school? Likely not. Fuck, okay, stopped for the fastest gas up of my LIFE. I actually cut someone off at the pump. I put in enough to get me to school, and ran inside. Only then did I look at my bank card and realize it’s my only source of cash. Period. Which means I have no cash for parking. And the gads attendant –slowly- drawls out to me that he can’t give me cash back. He looked a little frightened and sorta cowered when I boomed “What do you MEAN you can’t give me cash back?!?!? I have an final exam that I’m late for!!!! Just charge me an extra $5, give me the cash, and let’s GET THE FUCK ON WITH OUR LIVES!!!” (I was still cranky from being shocked.). He looks defiantly at me, and shakes his head. I growl and storm out the door. Great. Now I have to stop at an ATM. Okay, no prob, get out the remaining $20 in my account. After running 2 yellows and a redow, I stopped at my bank and requested the cash. Then the worst happened. It beeped and flashed the words that cause an icy coldness to slink into my soul and encase my heart in blackness: Insufficient Funds. Oh. Fuck. Me. Okay, screw it, exam takes priority. So I broke more sound barriers, and drove halfway across campus before I found a place to park. I ran light speed to class, gave a shitty presentation of pure redundancy off the top of my head, and ran back to my car to re-park it in a $5 Parkade, which has now left me with $1.22 in my bank account. Ouch.
So then I went to Victoria’s, and we hung out, studied and gabbed for a couple of hours. And then I came home, singing happy songs at the top of my lungs and just generally rocking out, then came downstairs to post this blog.
So Scott just called me. We had a really good conversion about staying friends, and I think we’re going to me okay. It’s going to be a rocky path, but we’re going to be very good friends. I can tell. Well…I sincerely hope so, anyway. I really can’t say anything bad about him. He’s a great guy, and there is a very lucky lady out there who is going to love being with him. It just wasn’t right anymore. And he respects that I feel that way. This is key to being friends in the future.
So I’m pretty damn happy. I’m wholly unprepared for my exams, I have a buck twenty two in my account, and I couldn’t ask for anything more fantastic then this feeling. I have an attraction to pursue, my ex doesn’t hate me, and even my exams seem to be diminishing in scariness. It’s been a rough bout with this time of life, but I think that everything is going to work out for the best.

-K

Quote du Jour

And fly away from here
anywhere,yeah i dont care
we'll just fly away from here
our hopes and dreams
are out there somewhere

-Steven Tyler

I must be upset. We're into crappy poetry now.

2005-04-24T13:19:00.000-06:00

Cocktail

And we played the Devil’s whist
Vying for the touch
Of His holy kiss
While inner voices cried
“We’re going to Hell”

Not quite borne, but not quite dead
While all our limbs
With the wisdom of lead
Coursed with venom
To make us celebrate

And when we’re filled with evil thoughts
Our eyes get wide
As our blood clots
We realize all too late
We’re in too deep.

-K

Ain’t that a bitch

2005-04-24T13:04:00.000-06:00

Good friends, good fire, good time. To use the slang, just "chillax’en" by the fire pit with a couple of buddies, talking about nothing. All but CT leave, and a few episodes of Futurama and The Simpson’s are watched. Mosy to bed, fall asleep thinking about firemen.
Wake up from dreams that I’m fairly certain included firemen to a dog whining in your ear at 6:30 in the morning. Calm the dog. Contemplate going to jump on CT because of you’re awake, she should be as well. Decide there’s a slim chance of going back to sleep, but you were really enjoying that fireman dream, so you’re going to give it a shot anyway. Back to bed, and wonderfully, blissful sleep returns! Success!
Okay, so wake up and do all the typical morning routine. Clean up from the pseudo par-tay of the past evening, sit on the deck, shoot the shit with CT, observe the dog and the cat co-existing. This is a whole new step in puppy-kitty relations. Anyway, she leaves. Back into the house. About to jump in the shower, when hear phone beep. Missed call. Check messages. No messages, but the missed call is from the one person that it the root of most of my emotional issues right now. Now I’m in a shitty mood.
Damn.
I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to have hiM not say fucking ANYTHING while I try and try and try. It’s like hitting your head against a brick wall. And we’ll follow our formula: I’ll get pissed off, he’ll explode at me and demand that I tell him what I want him to do, we’ll both start twisting things around, I’ll want to cry but not let him have the satisfaction of hearing me cry, I’ll say fuck it, we’ll pretend that all is well, we’ll hang up. I’ll bawl for a while, feel stupid and weak for crying, and get mad at him all over again for making me cry. I’ll avoid the phone until the next time it rings. The vicious cycle continues. If he could be the way he used to be…well, fuck it. That’s OBVIOUSLY not about to fucking happen. I have to give up on that, I’ve tried to revive it, and that person is gone. Deal with it.
The problem, you see, is that it’s exam week. I have enough stress trying to deal with this person, find a decent job that doesn’t involve carnies, get through exams with my GPA intact and deal with this growing attraction to “other”. I cannot deal with being a big puddle of goo. An educated guess suggests that the “goo stage” will last a week, maybe a week and a half. We’ll have to see, I guess. Because I cannot live this way anymore.
Do I not deserve to be treated like a woman, and be given all the things that encompass that? Respect, love and chivalry. I deserve these things. So the question is: is the “goo phase” worth it? Only time will tell.

-K

Quote du Jour

Freak out! I'm alone now
I feel just like I'm losin' my mind
‘Cause love is like the right dress
On the wrong girl
You never know what you're gonna find
You think you're high and fine as wine
Then you wind up like a dog in a ditch
‘Cause love is like a wrong turn
On a cold night...yeah
Ain't that a bitch, Ain’t that a bitch
-Steven Tyler

Critical Mass

2005-04-23T15:23:00.000-06:00

Have you ever had so much crap happening in your life that when you sit down to spill it all out, you get writer’s block? It’s like my creativity just reached critical mass. Okay. Little bits about each thing.
I got the GE job. THEN they tell me it’s in Calgary. INFORMATION I COULD HAVE USED BEFORE I GAVE YOU FOUR HOURS OF MY SATURDAY MORNING DURING EXAM WEEK, YOU FUCKERS. Ahem. Moving on.
You know that feeling of impending doom? You know, that cold feeling that kinda starts in your gut and spreads over your appendages? I get that every time I think about upcoming exams. Then I feel a panic attack coming on, and just go do something else that doesn’t involve books.
I have a new group. A new “family” according to Vdot. It’s pretty cool…I really enjoy hanging out with every single one of these people, even though I feel pretty damn left out of the loop because I live so far away. (And this weird sexual tension thing that seems to be arising as of late. Or may be a figment of my imagination. See, that’s my main problem. I can’t read social situations that have attraction or sexual tension in them. At all. Really, someone has to write me a map or dialogue or something before I can catch on to an attraction between two people. It’s kind of embarrassing, really.). But in any case, I have finally found the niche that I belong to in post-secondary, and I found it among these friends. It’s because of these people that I’m able to deal with the bullshit that certain people are handing to me right now.
Now, this creates a problem. A loyalty problem. See, I don’t have a favorite, and I just don’t think I can. This entire section is directed to CT. Baby, although I’ve found Vdot and she’s a close girlfriend, nobody could ever replace you. I’ve already matriculated one “outsider” into meeting these people, and trust me when I say, they are going to love you. They’re like that. Plus, how could they not?
Anyway. It’s late, and I have reading that seriously has to be done *there’s that feeling again*. Talk to y’all later.

-K

Quote du jour

“To fall in lust not love, ain’t no sin at all…”
-Steven Tyler

...

2005-04-22T13:51:00.000-06:00

Okay, so I got through the phone interview intact. I have the –big- interview tomorrow at 9am. And Jesus Christ, all I need during exam week is one more freak’en test, but I have to do a 2 hour MC exam, watch a video, fill out numerous sheets of whatever, and THEN if I pass all that jazz, I then proceed to the real interview. And then they make me do a drug test. I can’t believe this crap! As if I didn’t have enough stress happening already…

Neurosis

2005-04-22T11:52:00.000-06:00

Again going back to the catharsis idea. I have a telephone interview this afternoon with GE call centers. While the job is unglamorous as they come, I must say that it’s better then selling coffins to people, or working for $8 and absolutely no respect at my current dead-end job at a pseudo art gallery run primarily by carnival folk, and staffed by some wonderful people that are currently being oppressed by the Carny Regime. Yeah, I’m having employment issues.
Anyway, getting off this rant of a tangent, I’m really quite nervous as I have put all my eggs in one proverbial basket and pretty well blown off all my other job interviews. I asked Christine If I could please just show them my rack, and through fits of giggles and head shaking, she convinced me that it’s not professional. (I got the whole idea from Chelsey, who exploits my chest to obtain things that she wants, like first dibs on the backseat of the air conditioned coach bus, while poor me gets mentally molested by the creepy bus driver who’s busy making oogle buddies with my….attributes. That’s okay, I sullied her car this weekend. We’re even.)
So here’s my current problem: I have to cram for Film, Studies, which I couldn’t care less about unless it involved Noir. But I feel far too nervous to honestly put any effort into Neorealism Cinema. So I clean. This is what I do with my nervous energy. I smoke, and I clean. I can’t smoke at the moment (I don’t want my voice to sound scratchy on the interview. Yes, I am aware that I’m being totally neurotic.) , so that leaves me with the one option. *sigh*. I’m going to go vacuum my house now. But what if I loose track of time, and don’t hear the phone ring?? I’m so totally kidding. Nobody is THAT neurotic. *slowly pulls a nice quiet dust rag from the cupboard…*. I kid.

Quote du Jour

“From the moment she opened her mouth, I wanted to sublet her tongue, move into her larynx, and redo the upper incisors in mauve. Well, not exactly mauve, but…mauve-ish.”
-Cornfed Pig

-K

Solutions to Envy

2005-04-21T20:32:00.000-06:00

Due to my colleague’s method of self-expression, I felt a grand desire to begin a blog to call my own. A recommended method of catharsis, this may prove to be an effective tool. And no, I don’t always talk this way.
I suppose that I should establish a wee bit about myself. I’m 20 years young, and a Comparative Literature major at U of A. Or as we like to refer to ourselves, I’m a C Lit major. Yes, I major in clit. Ha ha. Now can we please all get on with our lives...? Anyway, just this past semester, I discovered the mind-bogglingly superior world of Noir Literature. I’m going to babble about that quite a lot on here, as it’s an obsession of mine. In fact, Chelsey often refers to me as a noir nerd, goon, conehead, and whatever other random crap flies off of her tongue.
Other then the oh-so prestigious world of academia, I’m also a girlfriend, a best friend, a daughter, a saleslady, a president and a proficient pain in the ass to many. I adore my buddies from the days of old, and have recently discovered some new friends that I’m fairly certain are solely responsible for me still being mentally stable. Well….as mentally stable as I can be.
I’m absolutely wild about maple. I love maple anything. I feel that I should mention that it’s my other new fetish.
Anywhoo, many hours of study demand my attention. Oh, and I’m a bumpkin, too. I’m about to go “skank it up”, as my mother would say, and study on the front deck in my tantalizingly little, second-skintight tank top and jeans. The joy of living in the country is I could sit on my front deck nude and no one would be the wiser. In fact...
Take it easy.

-K