Turns out that Katharine Hepburn died yesterday.
I thought she'd died like 5 years ago.
My bad.

What a weekend.

Friday. Dinner was wicked, though it was kind of a 'double date' of sorts...thankfully, really. Conversation was great, food was good, company was amazing and she was HOTT. Yup. Wandered around Church street (feel the Pride vibe!), chatted, got the updates from my girls that she was interested and thought I was good lookin' (good to know that I do in fact clean up well). End of the night, I offered to walk her back to her car, the gals conveniently fell back and we wandered off. Did some chattin' and laughing and just as the conversation got quieter (you know what I'm talking about) this car full of youngins pulls up and they're all "Are you leaving? We want your spot". So we rushed the ending, though I actually remembered to ask for digits. All in all, it was good. I think I'll ring her today. Wish me luck.

Saturday. Went rowing, chilled out, went to Costco (Kimmie, your isht's gonna get mailed out this week), got new tires (finally). Met up with the girls and went to Church street to check out the action again. Sometime after midnight we go in search of coffee and find pepper spray instead. Can I tell you how much that shit hurts? I was still coughing well into Sunday. Way to put a damper on Pride weekend. Stupid humans.

Sunday. Skipped rowing on account of my pepper spray experience. Slept in. Went to Niagara on the Lake with my rowing partner. Tested all the wine I could (no drinkin' and drivin' here my friend). Basically had a nice relaxing day. Bought wine. Marvelled at how quiet it was. Damn SARS, West Nile and um, what was the other thing? Though it made traffic non-existent. But I feel sorry for all those places that make their big dollars off of dumb ass tourists. Come visit Ontario! We promise you won't die of anything weird! Honest!

UPDATE: Now we're all meeting up for dinner! ARRRRRGH! I now have 3 hours in which to get me and my shit together!

Pray for me.

OHMYGAWD. I have a quasi-blind date in less than 4 hours! What am I gonna wear?!?!?!?! Why is the room spinning so fuckin' fast?
Yes folks, I haven't been on a date since...ewww...wait. There was that rilly bad blind date in February. Dang. That was BAD. Actually, it was worse than bad. Maybe that's why I haven't been on a date since then. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Right. So I'm gonna go home and freak out over what to wear for at least 2 hours, try and tame my mane o' hair & pretty myself up. *sigh*

Wish me luck. Update on Monday.

All right, the migraine is gone (thanks for the suggestions Joe!) Though I found to truly get over it fully, I had to do the following:

1. Get the fuck out of the office
2. Buy a six pack of beer
3. Find a BBQ
4. Drink beer

Funny how it all worked out in the end!
Of course my body planned one last coup against me this morning, and well, I got to be viciously ill at 5.15 this morning (just moments before leaving to go and row). No, the coup was not a result of the beer. I didn't drink enough of that stuff. But I must say I'm feeling a heck of a lot better now. Yay!

Today's supposed to be stinkin' hot. Great. It's +40 celsius with humidity outside and like -2 celsius in here. Hmmm, and I wonder why I've been feeling like shit for the last 4 days. I'm not always the sharpest tool in the shed.

1. I have a migraine.
2. I fear I am going to die at my desk.

And it's not even noon. Maybe if they allowed drinking during working hours my day would be better. Yeah, that's the ticket.

I have started a "People who need a punch in the throat" list. I'm already up to 4.
I suspect there's gonna be a lotta punchin' going on.
Yee haw.

So it's official...I'm skipping Pride this year. I think wine tasting in Niagara-on-the-Lake is a billion times better. Especially since the Totally Naked Toronto chapter won't be there. I mean, really. I'm all for nudity. But erm, guys? What's with your membership to TNT all being over the age of 50? And toting major guts? That ain't sexxy. Cover that shit up. And pass the chardonnay.

Dear Ghetto-assed office computer,

I hate you more than words will ever express. Because you are the property of Weasel Incorporated, I cannot put my fist in your face. Instead, I must cringe and try not to yell "FUCKER" at the top of my lungs when you decide that I deserve to experience the blue screen of death for the third time in the last hour.

I will try not to throw my chair at you when I cannot read the comments on any of the nifty blogs out there (mine included) unless I refresh the screen no less than 6 times.

But I will tell you this --- one day, I don't know when, I'll get my revenge and it will be so sweet.
Just remember, I always wanted to be a rock star and chuck things out of windows. You could be the lucky "thing".

Fuck yous Kissies,
Ren

Oh my gawd. I was just pricing auto insurance when this large ogre wearing an "Auto Insurance" t-shirt burst into my office, grabbed me roughly, screamed out a quote of $2200 for 6 months and then screwed me in a very uncomfortable place (my respect if you catch the movie reference in there)....let's just say I'm not feeling too warm and fuzzy right about now. Yup, I'm still shopping around for better prices. My current craptastic coverage expires early July and then I'm screwed again. *sigh*
The joys of being a car owner.

I think I'm gonna have to invest in a unicycle. And I'll ride around in total clown get up, randomly punching strangers in the throat. Damn, that'll be the best. Screw the car. Fear the clown.

Okay, my day just got a billion times better! Cati just said I was the bee's knees!!! Thanks chicky! You da bestest!

Urf. I'm eating this "chicken" thing for lunch and I swear I'm gonna die. But I'm too lazy to get off my ever expanding corporate ass and buy something more edible than this shit. Please pray for my swift recovery, for I think it's gonna be a doozy. I'm trying to eat around the chicken, but it keeps surprising me. Guh. Must start packing better lunches. Damn trying to figure out what to eat at 4.30 in the ayem. Bloody rowing hours. Need a house monkey to start doing this shit for me. Heh. Mojo.

And before you ask...no, I do not own the 5th Harry Potter. Why? Because I'm a fookin' illiterate loser who's only on page 17 of the THIRD book. Yes, let the hate mail begin.

My "People To Punch" list just grew by 3.
Watch your backs, bitches.

Is it still illegal to spontaneously punch people in one of the following: A) the throat, B) the eye or C) the head?
Just wondering. Cause I got a growing list of folks who are just itching for a punch. I think they know who they are. And if not, they'll know soon enough. Beware my fist of vengeance! Kapow!

Today at work I'm doing next to nothing. And I feel amazing for it. Gotta love summer Friday hours. This place is dead. I'm surfing the net, ingesting mad amounts of chocolate and emailing a whole wack of friends. Yay!
Granted I did get a few things done and I do actually have things to complete prior to leaving, but hey, I've got 2 more hours of chillin' to do. And then I'm outtie for the weekend.

Rock out, rockstar.

P.S. I still wanna become a paid assassin.

Today is the reason I often entertain the thought of becoming a paid assassin.

I'm not gonna get way into it, cause hey, it's just part of my job. But really, when I tell you our procedures, don't argue. Don't tell me I'm wrong. I work for the company, not you. Isn't that simple? You ask the question, I give you the answer. If you know the answer, don't ask the fucking question. I'm really to freakin' busy to play that game. Honest. I'm not shitting you. And don't think I'm gonna get all nervous if you ask for my full name, cause I'm gonna spell it out nice and slow for you. Sure I'll tell you the name of my supervisor, in fact, here's the name of my manager too. Check me out, I'm shakin' in my boots. Fucker. Now stop wasting my time. Go play in traffic.

Whooo. To say I am exhausted is such an understatement.
I think I'm gonna blow outta the office early so I can go home and take a nap. How rebellious is that? Watch out, I could be dusting next.

Being a quasi-responsible adult and shopping around for auto insurance (only quasi-responsible cause I'm doing it on company time). Man, all these insurance guys suck ass. That, and they're telling me they'll cover me for $2500 a year. EXCUSE ME!?!?!?!?
As if. Cover this, fucker.

So once again I've broken the office dress code. Only one person has noticed and commented. I congratulated her on noticing, especially since I've been breaking the code for 3 weeks now. Again with the rebelious actions, I know.

Damn. I need a nap. I'm outta here.

Heh. It's gonna be an interesting day, yo. I just ran my site through: Ask Snoop . You gotta try it, cause this is the shit that Snoop spits out....

Wednesday, June 11, 2003

More excitement, know what I'm sayin'? Well, not really." I've just ingested 2 really strong cups of coffee in rapid succession 'n I think I'm gonna die (mainly cause I can hear my brain buzzing) n' shit.

Eddie's doing a bit better, know what I'm sayin'? And "turning on da charm" is a major understatement." When I went see her last night, izzall these little vet-type muthas wuz going on 'bout how Eddie totally rocks da Casbah, know what I'm sayin'? It wuz kind of odd." I mean, yeah, I think brizzle's bomb diggity, but that's cause brizzle's my cat n' shit. But at least I know brizzle's getting wicked care from her newly formed entourage, know what I'm sayin'?
And no, they still can't figure out exactly what da fuck's wrong wit her." Can we be like second mortgage pay da bill? I knew yo' ass could n' shit.
So much fo' that tattoo revamp I wanted during da summer, know what I'm sayin'? Oh well n' shit.

Friday n' shit. Interview wit da recruiter n' shit. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! It's fo' a hook up in Etobicoke n' shit. Yes, da other armpit of Ontario (Hamilton being da right siiiiide), know what I'm sayin'? Whatever." If that shiznit's gravy, I'll tell my little recruiter gal send 'em my name." I get izzall da sordid details Friday afternoon." Wish me luck, cause if I get that shiznit, I'll buy yo' ass a pony n' shit. Granted, that shiznit'll be a My Little Pony, but a pony nonetheless n' shit.

Oh, 'bout da wine tasting thing." ..da crush sounded too eager go." We'll see what happens n' shit. Maybe brizzle's just gonna lure me out there 'n kill me in da vineyards." Dammit n' shit. Less coffee n' shit. Must n' shit. Ingest." Less." Coffee n' shit.

More excitement. Well, not really. I've just ingested 2 really strong cups of coffee in rapid succession and I think I'm gonna die (mainly cause I can hear my brain buzzing).

Eddie's doing a bit better. And "turning on the charm" is a major understatement. When I went to see her last night, all these little vet-type people were going on about how Eddie totally rocks the Casbah. It was kind of odd. I mean, yeah, I think she's cool, but that's cause she's my cat. But at least I know she's getting wicked care from her newly formed entourage.
And no, they still can't figure out exactly what the fuck's wrong with her. Can we say second mortgage to pay the bill? I knew you could.
So much for that tattoo revamp I wanted during the summer. Oh well.

Friday. Interview with the recruiter. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! It's for a hook up in Etobicoke. Yes, the other armpit of Ontario (Hamilton being the right side). Whatever. If it's good, I'll tell my little recruiter gal to send 'em my name. I get all the sordid details Friday afternoon. Wish me luck, cause if I get it, I'll buy you a pony. Granted, it'll be a My Little Pony, but a pony nonetheless.

Oh, about the wine tasting thing...the crush sounded too eager to go. We'll see what happens. Maybe she's just gonna lure me out there and kill me in the vineyards. Dammit. Less coffee. Must. Ingest. Less. Coffee.

Today in (way) less than 30, 000 words:

My admitted crush is still talking to me and is even willing to go wine tasting with me. How dangerous is that? Oh, wait, I'd be designated driver. No danger. Dammit. But at least we're still talking. Yay!

My cat is still at the vet's with her mystery ailment. Supposedly she's a bit stronger and is totally turning on the charm. That's my Eddie. Fo' sho'. But I still desperately want her home. Dunno when I'm gonna get to tote her back to the loft. *Sigh* The other 2 cats are confused. I think they kind of miss her.

I've got a objay intervieway on Friday. I'm kinda excited. Though really? I'm all about the money. Awwwwwwww yeah.
Big pimpin' spending da cheese. Muah ha ha.

All right. My weekend. A 3 part tragedy.

Part one:

I go out for dinner with my crush. We return to my beloved car to find a pseudo flat tire (flat yet not QUITE flat). We laugh about it and because I'm so fuckin' chilled out, I refuse to deal with it until "later".
Not so much a tragedy as a big fuckin' pain in the arse.

Part two:

Friday night, I chat with my crush at her abode. The whole time I'm thinking I've gotta tell her how I feel about her. Can't do it, cause I cannot make these declarations apropos of nothing. I make mindless chatter. Finally decide to leave. Hop in the car. Pick up the cell and call her. Boy, surreal doesn't cover it.
me: would it be awkward if I told you I had a crush on you?
her: ....
me: ....
her: let me think about it.
me: (now I'm confused) Erm, I'm not looking for anything, y'know. I just wanted to get it out there. This friendship is too important to me....blah, blah, blah, blah.
her: Oh. Okay.
So to make a very long story short. We got over it. I told my friends that I finally said something and that now I felt a billion times better. Yay!

We chatted all weekend, so I suspect she's gotten over my creepy revelation. Buah ha ha. Yeah.

Part 3:

My cat, Eddie. Very sick on Saturday. Still very sick today. She's currently under constant care at the Emergency Clinic. That's all I can write about it, cause I keep fucking tearing up. So just think healthy positive thoughts for the little fucker, okay?

I want to work in marketing. I think those guys get to smoke some wicked shit before unleashing crazy ideas upon the world.
I know it. I really do.

Hey. This is good hold music. Old Culture Club. Too bad it's "do you really want to hurt me". Cause the man I'm calling is gonna scream at me hardcore once I get through to him. Yes, that's my job. I get yelled at for a living. Well, not always. But this week it seems that the 2 things I do are 1) schedules & 2)get yelled at by people I will (thankfully) never meet.

Why do I get yelled at? Well that's cause marketing comes up with great sounding things that fall apart after a few hours/days/months/years. It's like all those kids' toys that keep getting recalled. Y'know, they look great at first, until little Timmy finds a way to poke his eye out with it in the first 3 seconds of removing the toy from its protective packaging.

All I really wanna do is go outside and sleep in the sun. I'm tired of this climate controlled office. It's too lovely out there!
Arrrrgh.
Send help. And cookies.

My realisation of the day? I am so fuckin' gay.

So I survived the mui exciting corporate meeting yesterday. Barely. Me + Meetings = a pain worse than rabid monkeys chewin' on your brain.

I made it home in the rain, but I didn't get to watch cartoons or drink scotch. Instead, I spent too much time on the computer. Surfing all the sites that are banned at work (sounds dirty, but it honestly isn't...my rowing club is on the banned list).

Was supposed to go rowing this morning, but I got a call at 4.30 that said it was too shitty outside. I got 2 more hours of sleep cause of that phone call! What a wicked way to start the day!
Got to work early. Even if there was a cop in front of us and we were all doing less than 100km/h. Versus my usual 140 km/h + into work. So far, so good.

I've made a few decisions about what I'm going to do with myself over the next few months...wish me luck. If it works, it'll be amazing, if it doesn't, well, I'll go down in flames. But that's part of taking risks. Isn't it?

Oh yeah, this is definitely one of those days. I just lost my post. Fuck.

I'd like to go back to bed and start over. Again. Though that would be the 3rd attempt at today. It's like I'm re-living Ground Hog Day. But without Bill Murrary and thank gawd, without Andie McDowell. That bitch bugs my ass.

I've already had one power nap today, rolled into work around noon, and I face my second power nap in some boring sounding meeting later today. Hoo boy am I excited to sit and take notes! Yeah! Fuck that shit.

When this day finally ends, I'm going home, getting into my jammies and watching some cartoons while drinking some very adult Scotch.