The music is blasting, Noah is wearing a football jersey, and I'm trying to down as much coffee as possible before leaving for one of my three jobs. It's morning, yes, morning I think.

I can't remember (anything) whether or not I've talked about the roster of homeless men who set up shop outside my building/in my yard. I know that I've brought it up at staff meetings, but internet, I may have thought at one time or another that it was inappropriate to share. Anyway, there's the young gang who scowls at me and then talks on their cell phones. There's the crack conniseur who can smoke rock 18 times between calling the cops and having the cops arrive. There's also the rather harmless man who likes to sleep naked, his filthy sleeping bag barely covering his junk.

Okay, so when I started this post there was going to be a reason for talking about the homeless clan...and I can't really remember what that reason was. I have an inkling that I was going to attempt some sort of parallel --that my coffee consumption is just no longer doing the trick, much like their crack use.

But who knows, my memory has taken a trip to Exhaustion-ville, which is really not much of a ville but more like an impound lot. You show up, and you're like hey, can I just get my memory back? And that dude behind the little glass box is like, well, what's the serial code? And you're all, what? Serial code? Wtf? I don't remember.

And then that little man just laughs, a hearty laugh that shakes his whole body, and he looks at you. Get some rest kid, then you'll remember.

Oh, thanks, philosopher! I couldn't figure that one out. Rest? I DON'T HAVE MONEY FOR REST SO I'LL JUST WORK THREE JOBS AND SAVE UP!

I think I'm going in circles.



Guyz, I work too much, like all the live long day, and you know what, that means I just don't have time to use proper punctuation like periods, and probably if the copyeditor at my work looks at this she'll cry (Hi Kate!). Okay look, a period, there it is again.

My hope is that one day all this work will pay off, and I won't have to wear short skirts to one job, and wake up inanely early for the other, and well, I really like the third one but anyways, yes, that's number three. THREE.

At least I don't have to walk to work. Uphill. In the snow.



I don't know what to say folks. I go to work, I sleep, I go to my other work, I eat chocolate bars and wonder if I'm gaining weight. Then I go to work and eat croissants while I wonder about the fat thing.

I repeat this quite a bit without much variation --oh wait, I lied. Sometimes the croissants are chocolate, sometimes they're almond, and every once in a while they surprise me with chocolate almond bad boys. On those days I think I'm lucky and wonder what good fortune will come my way.


The Little Things

Stuff I've been thinking about:

-I need to do laundry

-I wish the crazy lady outside would stop screaming

-I like my new nail polish colour

-I don't know what I'm doing with my life

-I wish we had more chocolate in the apartment


Letter to No Ma'am Club

What up spicy gals,

Hey losers who didn't get the memo, emails and fb messages are the way of the dusty past. Blog-to-blog messaging is the new way to get in touch. See a tumbleweed just bumbling around in your inbox? Oh right, I told you so.

Anyways, Amy, Bilyana, I just watched your sweet vid. Reminiscing about pics is my favourite hobby. Watched any Jon and Kate Plus 8 recently? Let's have a conference call to discuss.

Toronno's okay but can you guys move here already? I'll make you Hello Kitty waffles and when I get home from work and Noah's playing squash we can hang and say stuff like, men! pfft. (love you Noah!)

Bilyana, I want to go to a gala with you. Amy, I want to be your cam ham.

I had a cinnamon bun for breakfast and i don't know how to end this new genre of communication.

Peace ladies, write me back,

Charmin' Carmen



I think that I still look exactly like I did in this picture. The bangs at least are spot on.


Work It

Have you guys checked out the other blog I work on yet? Cause you should.