lowercasecarmen

Freedom 25

2010-10-19T20:00:00.000-07:00

Today I have spent $0, which is rare, very rare pour moi, but it is a decidedly good thing. Looking at this observation more closely, let's draw some conclusions. For me to have spent zero dollars (okay, I am partially lying here because I tipped my friend Maggie a buckaroo for making me an americano) today, it means that I have drank zero beers. Now wait a second I hear you scream! You could have just drank beers in your fridge that you bought on a previous day.

This statement is mentally retarded for a couple reasons. First of all, beer does not 'store' in my fridge. Beer gets cold in my fridge, and then promptly gets poured down my throat. Second, there is no second.

And yet, again, I am partially lying because there are beers in my fridge right now. My dear dear friend brought them for me (and him) to saviour, lugging them all the way from a far off land that has lots of mountains and trees and apparently lax liquour laws. So anyway, I don't drink these beers alone because they are like a precious flower that can only truely be appreciated in the company of another brewskie dork.

Moving along. Zero dollars spent, zero beers drank, (rarity), contemplation. Being sober on a day off just makes me reflective. And here's what I'm thinking about. I can't stay here, in Toronto (as much as I do, swear to God, actually like it), doing the same old shit. I hate serving, it's terrible, and making me lose faith in the greater good of humanity. I can't keep spending the majority of my week having hateful thoughts for complete strangers that I serve. I've considered different serving gigs, ones that don't involve working for a giant corporation, but I sense that the solution is greater than a mere change of scenery. I don't know if I'll ever be okay to stick around in one place, and for now at least almost all my thoughts seem to focus on leaving. The difficult things is, I don't want to leave for the sake of leaving. Conversely, I'm not the kind of person who needs a job or security waiting for me.

I love riding my bike for very long periods of time. This has been an important discovery for me. Most endurance activities make me weary, but cycling is entirely uplifting and gives you (me) mobility beyond the most immediate sense.

I love knitting and sewing little notebooks and turning small meticulous handcrafting hours into finished projects. I also like the seclusion of these activities, the long hours of thought.

I love beer. Not the fizzy yellow shit, but delicious, innovative, craft brews. I'm fascinated by the process of turning some grain and living yeasts into the most delectable beverage -- and want to learn everything there is to know about it.

I love the south, or the image I conjure in my head, where all my favourite authors were born and once lived. Reading is integral to my enjoyment of life and understanding of myself. I long to seek out the stomping grounds of all the writers I revere.

I love the Canadian coasts, I'm not picky about which ones, and recognize that be it nurture or nature, they are where I feel best. I briefly glimpsed the maritimes this summer, and I am nowhere near finished with them. I joke that ending up living there is my five year plan.

I love writing.

So I think, and I daydream, and I weigh the possibilities. Travel through American micro-breweries and write about all that I experience (drink)? Tour through the maritimes on my bike, camping in the most beautiful surroundings? Hole myself up in a remote coastal cabin homebrewing beers and writing short stories? Sell handknit toques online and get wasted? Southern US roadtrip complete with brewery tours? Write a book after?

Somehow, strangely, staying in Toronto and slinging pints to douchebags on the regular doesn't factor into my idea of happiness. Suffice to say my fuse is getting short and something big has to change soon -- hopefully I can decide which path to take.

some days are diamonds, some days are rocks

2010-10-06T12:08:00.000-07:00

This is a non-shitty gueze. Family run in Lembeek. Word

I have the day off and the only item on my agenda was to procure a) Gueze and b) cheese. Why? What's gueze? Gee, so many questions my captive readers.

Why? Cause it's a yummy pairing. What's gueze? It's a style of beer made from a varying ratio of young lambics to aged lambics. Because so many factors affect the final outcome (ie. the strains of naturally occurring yeasts in the air, the length of aging, the residual sugars that the yeast doesn't have time to gobble up, etc) it's actually a very difficult beer to maintain consistency, or 'quality control' with. But hey, that's the beauty of it. A surprise in every bottle!

Anyway, in my quest for this gem of a beverage I suited up with a jacket, fingerless mitts, a toque and a scarf -- ready to brave the harsh easterly winds and nagging rainshowers. I biked all the way to the Queen's Quay LCBO only to find that (yes, this is like an easily predictable sitcom) they had none. There were plenty of shitty Ontario dark ales that lack creativity and depth of flavour. There were a billion shitty lagers, and some Hoptical Illusions (not shitty) I briefly contemplated buying. But in the end I was difficult and choosy, deciding that if they didn't have gueze then they didn't have me. Boo hoo.

You know what I did get today though? An abstract splattering of innercity muck water sprayed casually up my back. No big deal though, really, my ass looks like a Jackson Pollock.

Happy Birthday To Me

2010-02-28T11:11:00.001-08:00

Dear Carmen,

Today is your 23rd birthday. I don’t really know why I’m addressing me as a ‘you’ in the third person, but there aren’t exactly rule books for this sort of thing. How does…one, address…themselves? Am I writing to the 22 year old me in the past (and I’m now in the future)? Do we just talk like we’re in the same room? Are we a we? Fuck, I have no idea. Figure this out by the time you’re 24, okay.

Anyway, I think if I had to characterize the events of this past year it would fall into some sort of I-Never-Would-Have-Guessed-It category. If someone had told me five years ago that I’d be living in Toronto of all places I probably wouldn’t have believed them. I know for certain there were moments when I believed I would never graduate on time, that the weight of unbearable anxiety would eventually just crush me like a bug. And yet, voila, I made it out of that bitch alive. (The bitch here being an arts degree). I don’t think this whole sentiment is negative though, because I like to think that in a year I’ll be somewhere else in a situation I can’t anticipate right now. The idea of settling into any one place right now is…well, unsettling to me. I guess I see Toronto as one little dot on the larger connect-the-dots shape of things for me. I bet that shape is a pineapple, or maybe something way more complicated like a tidal wave pattern from a geography textbook.

In terms of surveying the past in an effort to grab the future by the balls more aptly, I would say this Carm Carm: everything works out, everything eventually becomes okay. This whole being calm thing, not worrying as much, being positive – it feels good. Aaaand, you’re probably not shaving years off your life anymore (like you certainly did while writing essay after essay after essay on the marital practices of Hindu women in rural contemporary nationalist communities). Thank God though for that eastern religions minor! Surely it will come in handy at a dinner party in your future.

If I were the type of person to make prolific check lists (I am not), we might go through the past year and try to evaluate which categories of life were accomplished. There was that graduation (bravo bravo), that terrible surgery that involved wisdom teeth, percocets, and ongoing physio a year after (ozay!), that move of cities (why not?), that giant life change (let’s not go there on the internetz), and that new realization that making limoncello when life gives you lemons is totally doable. Okay, this is getting cryptic, moving on…

So what now and forever more? You drink a lot, but you worry less. You don’t make a lot of money, but there’s always stripping (joking mom!). You are…older, but surely the wisdom meter has increased too. (Alright, I’m not so sure about this last one but whatever). As for advice in the next year: stop cutting your own hair, you look like an idiot, call your family more often, write a book, and for the love of God, answer your fucking emails you dead beat.

Sincerely,

Yourself

exclamation points in titles!

2009-12-26T22:49:00.000-08:00

Bought this today so that my luggage will certainly be heavy weight. Or maybe that's just my brain, ZING!

Just me, Rudolph, and a polar bear.

2009-12-25T21:58:00.000-08:00

No big deal, just hanging with my Christmas posse while my sister creeps personal on Craigslist. I decided to give you two gifts this Jesus day:

1) Christmas posse gangsta face

and, 2) Christmas posse straight up

Yer welcome. Peace and love.

merry flunkin' christmas

2009-12-15T16:14:00.000-08:00

My parents have reindeer headbands and juiceboxes on hand at all times. Also, cheese and crackers that I top with sundried tomato pesto. I told them they're living like kings.

Peace out for now, some minute maid in the cutest box form is calling my name.

Plumbing Issues

2009-11-05T07:46:00.000-08:00

We've had some people replacing the tiles in our bathroom because of some mold/sealing issues. I know, I know, riveting stuff, please Carmen, go on about bathroom renovations!

Shut up.

Anyway, what was supposed to take three days has been stretched to two weeks and counting. Not having use of your washroom is annoying for obvious reasons but the one positive is that they're knocking off some rent. Suddenly, not using my washroom is bearable with the understanding that I'm saving rather than spending money. This also happens to be a timely arrival for rent deductions because Christmas is around the corner and the past few years I've given only smiles, hugs, and the grace of my presence.

Right now two workers are singing "Killed By Death" and recounting scenes from the music video.

PS -- the above pic was my halloween costume. I went for gangsta but sort of came off looking 90's. Oh well.

90's Love

2009-10-23T07:35:00.001-07:00

These photos were taken in the summer with an old digital SLR that, unfortunately, has a light leak. I think it's a Yashica? I can't remember, sorry.

At first I was going to photoshop them, but then I decided against it. They have this funny quality to them --sort of faded or washed out-- that reminds me of pics from my elementary days. Do you know the ones? You and your brother are standing in front of a forest, him in a No Fear t-shirt, and you sticking out your tongue like a loser.

Sigh.

love is for assholes

2009-10-21T19:34:00.001-07:00

I've finally managed to arrange my three separate work schedules into one, barely feasible, work week. I don't remember the exact moment I cracked, but after too many doubles in a row I just said no. No more doubles.

I think, that in most other areas of life, doubles are generally considered a good thing. For example, a double shot of espresso is far more effective at fighting off exhaustion than one. A gin and tonic, times two, is a better investment in your future. A toonie, versus a loonie is simply no contest. And twins, I would imagine, are double the fun.

Anyway, just because I haven't talked about work enough, here's a gem. I was working on coat check, frustrated out of my mind with the general congestion of the bar, with people who wanted to check their coats in and out with every smoke outside, and with the drunken bros who want to spill life stories to me. The Beatles were playing overhead, and everyone was singing along (remember folks, simply being drunk doesn't make every song kareoke) "All you need is love." Suddenly my coworker pops his head around the corner, looks at me and says: THIS SONG IS FOR ASSHOLES!

so fresh

2009-10-18T23:20:00.001-07:00

When my boyfriend says I'm dressed weird I just want to show him a picture of this chick and be like, WHAT-EVER!

They're Calling Us a Hero

2009-10-17T12:17:00.000-07:00

I'm the one in the middle, sitting down, staring in the direction of nothing, and laughing. Glad they captured my good side.

Here's the link to the briefity brief article: http://www.nowtoronto.com/lifestyle/story.cfm?content=171729

UPDATE!

2009-10-15T20:33:00.001-07:00

In shift number 1 of the day (yes, there was more than one) I managed to cut my hand. No big deal really, except for the fact that I cut it on a FUCKING BAGUETTE.

Okay, gotta go back to wondering why in the world I don't have a real job.

CHECK YA LATER!

2009-10-15T03:31:00.000-07:00

It's 6:32 am. I am going to leave for work soon. I sat down to drink my coffee -- a small but effective bribe I use to convince myself that the feeling I have when I wake up at this hour is not physical pain, but exhaustion.

I see the wine glass left over from last night and think, hey, I could totally understand how drinking (steadily) before work comes about.

Just sayin'.

You Know Your Mother Is An Internet Scam Artist When...

2009-09-30T06:10:00.000-07:00

An email I received from my mother this morning:

Sent by: (mom)

Subject header: Do you want to spend Christmas in the Carribean?

Content of email: (as copy and pasted) http://vancouver.en.craigslist.ca/van/edu/1397999317.html

xo
mom

Now I'll just go click on that link and before you know it some lovely stranger will have stolen my credit card info and bought nine orders of 7-11 nachos, 13 packs of rollies, and a ferrari.

THANKS MOM!

Sippin' on Gin and Juice

2009-09-21T08:58:00.000-07:00

Yesterday on the phone my mother informed me I wasn't blogging enough. She laughed out loud (lol'd if you will) about my Twitter page. "For Pete's sake Carmen, everyone still thinks you fell off your bike!"

First things first mom. I did fall off my bike, it sucked, and now the moment is immortalized on Twitter. Second, I think your "everyone" comment is cute, duly noted, but you are the only person who reads that page.

Okay though, yes, I do need to update. We live in different time zones (yes, I'm just addressing my mom directly now. Dad, you're welcome to read along too) and catching each other on the ol' telayphono can be difficult.

The problem folks, is that I'm not sure my snooze-fest of an update is worth your time. Currently I'm pretty hung over, reading lying down because I can't manage to perform any task while vertical, and mentally preparing myself to go to work. I don't know if the rest of the world does that pre-shift mental prep? The pep-talk that involves a few "I'll quit if they talk to me like that one more time!" and at least one emphatic "I can do this!"

All I can think about is that the distance between myself and a real job looks like the Grand Canyons right now, and what I have to work with are these two bony legs. Please give me a call when you acquire an atv and the penchant for random acts of human kindness.

Until then, follow my lead and keep it real homies.

i'm like sunshine on a rainy day

2009-09-06T06:49:00.000-07:00

Working seven days a week has been so fun. Fun like getting a blood test. I'm noticing that I say things that make me (sound) very old. Have I had a conversation with you yet about how my feet always hurt? Last night as I was falling asleep I thought of the old lunch lady at my elementary school, of the taupe coloured orthotics she used to don. Now, I sort of envy those cushy, faintly medical looking things.

My grey hair count is at 2, which is about an orange on the pandemic scale. One was excusable, but two? When I found the second it wasn't one of those sad but hilarious moments that I then go and tell my coworkers about, I literally stood in my bathroom while my youth flashed before my eyes.

No one will love you, Carmen. No one.

Though, I must say, there is light amongst the darkness. The other night at work, (WHY DO I WORK NIGHTS AGAIN?!) we were swamped, everyone was running around frantically trying to do nine things at once, my angelic coworker turned to me and said, "Hey, you want a break? I've got a burger in the back, it's all yours."

I just sort of looked at her, dumbfounded. She could have said she had some spare dry almonds, or maybe one of those shitty granola bars that's not even covered in chocolate, but a burger?! I sat in a storage closet atop a spare folded area carpet, a coat rack dangling above my head. With weight off my feet and something greasy in my belly I had never been happier.

what-ever

2009-08-29T07:45:00.000-07:00

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.

thisblogsucksnowcauseihavenotimeorcreativityleft

2009-08-24T18:10:00.000-07:00

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.

croissantzzz

2009-08-18T20:15:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-11T19:41:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-09T11:24:00.000-07:00

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

Awwwwww

2009-08-07T14:21:00.000-07:00

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

Work It

2009-08-04T08:48:00.000-07:00

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

Not Well-Endowed.

2009-07-29T00:49:00.000-07:00

It's so hot in my parent's house I could just melt. My dad told me to suck it up about the whole AC issue, and my mom told him to be quiet because he doesn't have to wear a bra in this heat.

It's true, who knew boobs could sweat so much. Suddenly I don't mind being on the smaller side.

2009-07-27T12:21:00.000-07:00

I am back in Vancouver at the parental unit's home right now. Late last night I biked around my old neighbourhood and felt all nostalgiac for a time that I didn't necessarily love. It's not that I didn't love my childhood --because I really did --but I would gladly forget those awkward junior high years. Bushy eyebrows and a penchant for good grades never helped the pursuit of popularity.

I've been looking through old pictures for a project at work, and though I've seen these same photographs more times than I can count, I feel like I'm noticing new things today. For one, I look a lot like my mother. Also, my brother, sister, and I wore stripes way too often.

I can already see that I won't be able to sum up the kinds of things I'm feeling right now without sounding painfully sentimental. Suffice to say it's nice to be home, hard to see things that have changed, and comforting to return to people with a shared history.

2009-07-21T14:03:00.000-07:00

I know y'all are real worried about me and my FAILED hardrive, but hang in there, I will survive. Sure, my depression is like a heavy fog, but that's normal right? I will have to update with a hilarious explanation of what went down at the mac store because the analogies alone were real knee-slappers. For now, it's just...too soon. Too soon.

In other news, I recently started working for Worn fashion journal, and I urge you all to go read the website where I done gone does my workz and biznezz. I have a few articles up on the site and will be posting regularly there, but here is my riveting introduction for your enjoyment:

LE WEBSITE!

Who knew mad blogging skillz could come in handy? All those hours of reading and blogging these past years have merely been preparation.

I was practicing yo, and I didn't even know it.

oh lordy

2009-07-17T14:02:00.000-07:00

(This is normally where a vain picture would go. Please, just imagine it).

Things got a little tip-turned upside down the other night. I was all set to watch the Canada's Next Top Model finale and then --WHAMMO! My computer is nothing but a flickering apple screen. Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

My hardrive failed. It's dunzo. Fried. Finito. Busted. Bye bye baby bye bye...

Currently, I feel like a hostage, writing this post from the children's public library near my apartment. I'm sure some little Sally or Ralph just wants to look up a Dora the Explorer video on Youtube and well, here I am being a bitch. Sorry kids, this is an adult EMERGENCY.

The very very very nice man (I refuse to say genius) at the Mac store did some Harry Potter shit on my failing computer, and managed to retrieve my precious documents folder. I carried home that burned disk in two hands, TWO HANDS I TELL YA!

I haven't cried yet, but honest to God, this sucks. Posting will be sporadic until I, oh I dunno, win the lottery (take out a loan) and buy a new one. Any sugar daddies (or mommies, I don't discriminate) that want to apply, just send me an email (that I will have to check on a kiddie computer) and I will judge you based strictly on Swiss bank account net sums.

First the bike wipe out and now this. Hey God, THANKS A LOT.

goo goo gaa gaa

2009-07-11T20:05:00.000-07:00

(This one is my favourite bruise. The strange ladder-esque scab running up my leg is my favourite zipper imprint injury. The surprise underneath my shoulder bandaids is my favourite road rash scrape. Every time I get dressed I find new and disgusting cuts, bruises, and popped blood vessels.

Yesterday I got into a bike accident.
Today I worked a twelve hour shift.
Today I realized that my bike wheel is bent from yesterday!
Today a piece of dirt flew into my eye and I had to pull my bike over to the side of the road in blindness. I took into consideration the above and just about started crying. Once more, eye dirt almost induced tears.

My feet hurt so much by the time I got home and it made me feel old. I thought of the lunch lady who used to terrorize the primary students at my old elementary school, or more specifically, her ugly tan coloured orthotics. She wore violet tinted glasses, was completely malicious, and we all lived in constant fear of her wrath. One day at lunch hour there was a wind storm, and in a particularly strong gust of air, a large branch fell off a tree and struck this lunch lady. She managed to avoid any real injuries, and so, pretending to nod and mumble about how horrible the whole experience could have been, we collectively rejoiced in our luck. We assumed that someone had prayed because the branch fell down from above --and that could only mean one of two things:

-gravity
-God

tress distress

2009-07-07T19:05:00.000-07:00

Looking at your archives from 2006 can be a dangerous thing. To snip or not to snip, that is the question billy shakes.

my application to the miniature mafia

2009-07-06T12:42:00.000-07:00

Resting his hands for a moment between hammering, Hanz felt suddenly lonely.

It is only me in this dark box, this home of sorts. Surely there must be someone out there looking for a Hanz? Perhaps a Greta, or a Hilda?

If only someone would --Hanz put down the hammer and drummed on his workbench --hold me?

Outside Hanz's home, two rabbits chatted quietly. "I am more than a nose wiggler," said Roger (pronounced Rojare, not Rawjer) emphatically. Bettina nodded, "I am so tired of these carrot and lettuce stereotypes. I love yogurt as much as the next mammal!"

He could not be completely certain, but Hanz believed that he could hear the murmur of soft voices in the distance. Of conversations, connections. Picking up the hammer once again, Hanz had faith that he was not alone.

"Lonely, but not alone," he said to himself, "it will do for now."

stories in two parts

2009-06-30T18:35:00.000-07:00

photos courtesy of my boyfriend

PRANKS ALI!

2009-06-29T17:35:00.000-07:00

Dudes, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life. There are these kids who scream outside my apartment window incessantly, and I'm scared that one of these days I'm gonna go outside, grab one by the shoulders, and tell them to seize the day like never before.

Seize this time when you don't need to worry about getting fat. Eat that extra chocolate bar, guilt free. Play tag or cops and robbers with your buds and just include the annoying kid why don't ya. Enjoy your immaculate flaxen hair. Appreciate your lack of stress-induced acne breakouts. Ask someone for a hug without wondering if that means you have 'issues'. Have issues! Pee your pants, because, why not? There are simply no consequences. JUST RUN TO FEEL THE WIND THROUGH YOUR HAIR AND ONLY THINK ABOUT THAT, DON'T ASK YOURSELF PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTIONS YOU CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO ANSWER BUT INSTEAD LEAD YOU TO THE KIND OF DISORIENTING EXPERIENCE WHERE YOU WAKE UP IN YOUR WALK IN CLOSET AND WONDER WHY YOU WORK SEVEN DAYS A WEEK!

But uh, yes, here's to hoping I don't actually do that. Heh...heh...uh...oh God.

In other news my lovely friend Ali, who actually reads my blog TEN POINTS GIRL!, sent me a lovely gift. Yes, I just used a comma after an exclamation point so go ahead and sue me. I can't see out of my left eye right now because, well I don't even know why but all sources point to exhaustion, so I'm gonna go ahead and be reckless with punctuation.

Okay, bye bye for now guys. I have to pee and I haven't had time all day. Thanks Ali, you're a doll and brightened my day.

a series of breakfasts

2009-06-25T12:22:00.000-07:00

Fruit with yogurt, turkish delight all the way from...Turkey, and oat pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup. I never promised it was healthy all the time.

you are incredible

2009-06-24T16:14:00.000-07:00

Sorry that I haven't been posting much. Turns out all these super important 'high-up' types are interested in my CREATIVE WRITING degree. They hired me as a VIP which means so many things that I can't really tell you. Do you want to die this young? Then let's not go there.

They asked me in my interview if I could knit, I said yes.

They asked if I like cats, I said yes.

They asked if I like cheesecake and curly fries, and I said yes but not together.

They said, you can only do this job if you know how to count to ten in spanish. I said got it.

They warned me that the RIGHT candidate would have impressive origami skills, I said I'm already there.

Did you, er, win the grade seven science fair by any chance, they asked quickly. This, I thought, this might be a trick question. Creative writing job and a science question, who do they think they are?

Six and seven, I said.

Incredible, they said in unison, you are in credible. We want to pay you millions of dollars to write about cats and cheesecake and curly fries and elementary school science fairs.

Thank GOD I pulled those all-nighters in grade seven.

Do the Math!

2009-06-20T15:21:00.000-07:00

I ate approximately six times as many chocolate covered strawberries as I took photos of. Does that sentence make sense? Trust me, I ate a lot. The rest are for a birthday girl and thank god, cause I can do a lot of damage.

Damage is a grown up word for cellulite. Just so you know.

I'm a suck

2009-06-18T16:20:00.000-07:00

I don't know if it's because my boyfriend is a bazillion miles away in Turkey, or because I just graduated with a university degree and the CAFE I applied at hasn't called me back, or even because of plain ol' PMS, but I watched 'Away We Go' and totally loved it.

Based on my reaction to this movie, it's clear I would never make a very good film critic. I'm supposed to come down hard on John Krasinki's hipster stereotypical bumbling but sensitive character --the one already being called 'Zack Braff-esque'--and attack the recklessness of this pregnant couple. And I know that everyone loves to hate on Eggars because, well I don't even know why we're supposed to hate him anymore but I just don't. Have you ever read "The Only Meaning of Oil Wet Water"? It's an incredible story that makes me feel like a failure (well-written stories do this to me).

I think I even got something caught in my eye a few times during this film which is a TOTAL rarity for this ice queen. The last time that happened was probably during a sleepover in 1995 when we watched "Born to be Wild". Google that and tell me it wasn't heartbreaking. Gorilla movies get me every time.

Anyways, I don't really know what I'm rambling on about. I kind of want to be John Krasinki's girlfriend, and I miss my real boyfriend, and I can't get a job because:

a) it's a recession
b) I was stupid not to get an engineering or commerce degree (LIKE MY BROTHER!)
c) I'm unemployable?
d) destined to live off of stir-fried onions
e) followed my dreams
f) the universe is against me
g) the god I never believed in in the first place for sure does not exist
h) Ganesh only helps out Hindus
i) ALL OF THE ABOVE

I'm stressed, what's new. Baby, come home.

Letters to the Past

2009-06-16T19:01:00.000-07:00

Talking to yourself in the future has already been attempted, so today I'm gonna take a time out to send this time machine backwards. I'm pretty sure this is a therapy-esque exercise but hey, who isn't a little emotionally unsound. I live in a first world country, I've got nothing but time to worry about being unhappy.

Dear 12 year old Carmen,

Stop using the word 'bummer'. Maybe starting this letter off with a 'don't' is harsh, but I think you can handle it. Bummer won't last long and it sounds kind of lame. Really lame actually. When my 47 year old self writes a letter to my 22 year old self, she/I will tell me/her to stop using the word 'lame'.

Anyways, the more important tip for you is this: Do not, and I mean DO NOT get on the honour roll. This sort of 'achievement' will make you feel entitled to certain ridiculous things --success namely-- that aren't going to happen for you unless you get a degree in engineering. PS, over here in the future you sure as hell did not get one of those. When your teachers tell you that those assignments matter they are lying. Another good thing NOT to do would be to pull all-nighters in grade seven. Again, if your life had involved that trusty engineering degree by now we might not be writing this here condescending letter.

Sure, some of those kids who were on the honour roll will go on to do good things, things like not sitting in their apartment watching the food network 24/7 practicing their impression of Paula Deen. Y'ALL LIKE BUTTA? See, we're good at that -but I digress. In a few years you will decide to take a shop class, woodshop specifically, and during an afternoon with the ol' radial arm saw (that you will be scared of) a classmate will call you and a friend into the back section. The back section is where all the extra wood is stored, kind of a private area, though this is not that important. The kid that called you back there will make a confession, embarrassedly, that he has grown a nipple hair and isn't that distressing? You don't really know, you haven't been close enough to a boy yet to think about nipple hair, but when he asks for help you will be sympathetic. He will ask you to tweeze the hair with an industrial grade woodshop pair of plyers, and you will do just that.

Now here's the good part. That kid, 'Nipple Hair' we'll call him, will go on to have a good job in trades. Sure, a bit wonky in the head, but NEVER on the honour roll. He now makes a lot of money.

Really now, I'm not too sure why I'm writing this or how much we can change, but we've seen Terminator and understand the power of time travel. Visiting yourself in the past can be a fruitful vacay. Maybe one day you'll be the governor of California. Maybe one day you'll be a world famous male body builder. The world is your oyster, Carmen, a cynical, small pearl producing oyster.

I will add that in the future your sweet boyfriend gives you a Hello Kitty waffle maker, so, that's something to look forward to. Please, act surprised when he gives it to you. The waffles taste like magic and fireworks and peace signs in pictures. It's okay if that doesn't make sense yet.

I won't be narcissistic and say that I love you, but you're a good little kid. Also, good job on not doing drugs. In the future you will have an apartment with lots of crackheads outside and they are most certainly uncool. One night, when the smell of dirty burning crack wafting into your apartment gets too overwhelming you will call the cops. They will arrest the man on your front lawn hitting his crack pipe every five seconds and you will feel a bit guilty. Sorry about that (to both past self and the unsuspecting crackhead).

Sincerely, your 22 year old self.

PS -- Turns out you never get big boobs, sorry. I know [we] hoped for that quite intensely but it just wasn't in the cards. C'est la vie kiddo.

Turbo Magic Tornado Blitz Kitchen Helper

2009-06-15T08:31:00.000-07:00

I don't know if you're busy wasting your time going to work and getting stuff done, but I have been putting in the real hours watching informercials. Sure, you're an engineer, a doctor, a youth worker --but I think it's clear who's really hitting the ol' grindstone.

Obviously these commercials follow a template, and now, for your enjoyment I have compiled the essential elements for you to enjoy. Please, read on if you have the patience of a monk!

1. The Bumbling Idiot -- This guy waltzes on to the scene with a bad attitude and lacking skills. He just wants to watch the game, NOT cook lame dinner. The camera pans to him as he attempts to cut a tomato with a REGULAR knife, and he proceeds to chop off a finger and then stare at the camera in frustration. "This whole back and forth method has got me drowning! There must be an answer."

2. Foreign Host -- Whether you favour Dr. Ho and his Chinese accent, or the OxyClean dude's meth high screaming, these hosts are not your average joe. My favourite hosts are always the guys from poor suburbs of London who say "bread crooombs" instead of bread crumbs when demonstrating how to chop, dice, mix, and wash the Turbo Jet Blending Miracle Whipper.

3. Crotchety Woman -- This actress is always 70+ and just angry at life. Food!? Fuck food I'm trying to keep breathing! You think I got time to chop? She is inevitably stuck in tradition, completely unwilling to accept the new invention. "I like my crockpot, asshole!"

4. The Gracious Couple -- This young pair looks exasperated and forlorn. Their marriage is in the dumpster because they don't have the new invention. The young wife looks to the host and admits, embarrassedly, that her husband loves steak but she's rooting for the chicken team. HOW WILL THEY EVER RECONCILE THEIR DIFFERENCES?! The host reveals suddenly that you can cook both at the same time, "Just poot them in the pan like so!"

By the end of the informercial every stereotype is on board. The racial minority has been accommodated with some patronizing recipe for Kung Pow chicken, and granny suddenly has a new vigor for life. Perhaps what's most depressing is that, as I watch this garbage I have only one (overwhelming) thought.

Damn, I wish I was writing this.

what up my recent graduates!

2009-06-12T15:38:00.000-07:00

(I don't know what's on my mirror. Perhaps it is my laziness?)

I done gone gots ma hair did. For some reason I always get disappointed when I look at my new hairstyle and it's not longer. What? But I wanted to have hair down to my ass!

Meanwhile, I have been taking part in the soul-sucking process of searching for jobs...on craigslist. There has to be a better way. I know half the postings are scams, while the other half expect you to have 7+ years experience, knowledge of every computer program known to man, flexible hours, a headshot, patience to perform medial tasks...all for $9 an hour. Nine dollars? Is that one buckaroo more than minimum wage? THANK YOU! I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR THIS OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE PANINIS!

I think I'm going to start a Recession Support Group. We will bond over generic macaroni and cheese (go somewhere else if you can afford KD asshole!) and gourmet PBRs.

Er, PS -- Here is a requisite photo of me in a grad sombrero. Everyday of my unemployed life I will just peer at this pic and remember how successful I am.

Job schmob! I was on the mofo'n honour roll.

Recipe for Nostalgia

2009-06-10T08:22:00.000-07:00

1. Get born in the 80's.

2. Go to highschool.

3. Listen to the radio and whatever your older brother says is cool*.

4. Fast forward to 2009 (the future).

5. Listen to this.

6. Tell yourself you didn't waste your youth. Tell yourself, hey, I'm not even really an adult yet. Think about rent payments, about jobs, about the past.

You'll get stuck on the past.

*This song is not cool.

done like dinner

2009-06-07T19:39:00.000-07:00

Graduated, bitches.

2009-06-03T14:34:00.000-07:00

Okay actually this is the pic I wanted to post:

Yummy! Let me go set the table!
~Carmen's Mom

2009-06-03T09:18:00.000-07:00

Last week (or was it the week before? I’m not sure. My life’s been such a blur lately) I was charged with the onerous task of posting to Carmen’s blog while she was away in Cuba. Well, I failed miserably. I was sent her travel itinerary, but nevertheless, I wasn’t sure when she was going to return and I was preparing to post to this blog one evening, only to discover that she’d already returned from her holiday!

So, perhaps better late than never …

I wondered what Carmen would expect from me.

Perhaps she thought I might post about Martin Luther and how he initiated a spiritual and cultural movement that transcended the boundaries of Europe and permanently altered the structure of the Christian world.

Maybe she thought I’d post a screen shot of my high score in online pool.

What madness possessed her when she made the decision to give ME her password? If she had given her decision the time it deserved, would she not have figured out that I, her mother could only post one thing?

Ta da!!

Isn't she ADORABLE???!!!

I've decided my new favourite food is no longer sashimi. It's babies.

Carmen's Mom

I HAVE NO MORE HOMEWORK

2009-06-02T20:50:00.000-07:00

My pants and I have traveled to Montreal because of a promise I made to my parents many years ago. I refused to go to my highschool graduation and this refusal was only accepted based on the agreement that I would attend my university convocation. So here I am. Gradgamating.

Driving into Montreal, past my old campus was very odd today. For one thing, there was no snow and I was not frozen. Another thing, and this one is more important, I didn't have a sinking feeling about that essay that was due or that homework I'd been putting off.

No homework, old campus, square hat, gown. I think I'm being sucked into a black hole.

I'm Prepared To Alienate People With This One

2009-05-31T21:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I admit things to the internet that I never would in real life. Things, perhaps, like the fact that I watched a Miley Cyrus bio in full and then told my boyfriend over dinner, "that girl was really born to perform."

Though I have a lovely boyfriend and am therefore not interested in online dating sites, I can only imagine what my profile would be like.

Dear Carmen,

Your eHarmony compatibility quiz tells us so much about you! Based on the fact that you spent today folding origami flowers and cranes while listening to Miley Cyrus, we have matched you with Sven. Sven likes Star Wars, light sabers, and War Craft --but the fun doesn't stop there! He can make a mean pot of generic macaroni and cheese with ketchup garnish.

Is you appetite whetted? Ours certainly is.

Go get 'em tiger!

-The eHarmony team

How to Win Friends and Organize People

2009-05-30T09:13:00.001-07:00

It's no secret that I love a certain Chef Michael Smith. I wrote a post about him recently, make one of his recipes almost every other day, and am currently watching his show as I type this. Something I noticed today while watching is just how organized this guy is --a bowl for composting, tea towels neatly folded in a drawer, and the list goes on.

Anyone close to me knows that I'm not organized. Order and routine has not come naturally to me, and though I was forced to implement some basic agenda use during university (after too many panic attacks), I can still remember walking in to my grade ten science final five minutes late, and asking why everyone was being so quiet. I sort of have a love hate relationship with organized people, partly because I wish I could be one, and partly because I just don't understand their brain activity. Here is a list of the traits and tendencies I associate with Organized People:

1. They like cleaning. Wtf? Ever heard anyone go on about how much they like to do laundry or the dishes? I usually just stand dumbfounded for a while and then give them my cell number, three of my emails, and a blank message in a bottle just in case. In their bedrooms or bathrooms you will likely find that hair elastics have a place or container were they "go". Mine go on my wrist...until I lose them.

2. They do not miss tests or proposal deadlines. This means that instead of having to fabricate a grandiose lie about how your therapist just retired and do you know what it's like to depend on the weekly help of a trained medical professional? --they just walk to the front of the room and hand it in.

3. They make lists and to-do's. I also do this, but generally I try to just write down things I've already done so that I can move down the list marking off big red check marks. For them it's about getting things done. For me, it's about boosting my self-esteem.

4. They aren't flakes. From all of my extensive research on "organized people" I feel that they follow through on plans, responsibilities etc. If you deviate from this, and are a flakey clean person though, let me know.

5. They get accessories down pat. I have approximately 2 necklaces that I like to change up depending on my mood. These people, sheesh, talk about colour coordination and daily variety. Amiright, amiright?

I know there's no way I'm getting to ten so I'm going to round down now. Though this list is peppered with judgment, I do sincerely wish I was part of the club. Sigh. I'm off to go read how "How to Win Friends and Organize People".

click!

2009-05-29T23:10:00.000-07:00

Some people are photogenic, others never had a chance.

feeling fruity

2009-05-28T12:02:00.000-07:00

A year or so ago my boyfriend and I were discussing travel. I don't think our conversation was very serious, in that we weren't making any concrete plans, but I told him I had one request: I wanted to go where mangoes cost pennies. Perhaps there are smarter ways to plan travel, say, by considering financial situations, activities, transportation, etc --but I'm a trail blazer. Driving on a highway in the middle of nowhere we stopped at a roadside fruit stand. The people there kept on screaming MANGOES, MANGOES! and I was like EAGER! We loaded about 15 giant mangoes into the car, and all for the hefty price of 80 cents. I unsuccessfully tried to do a one handed photo shoot, but this specific mango was almost as big as my head.

Either the farmers are feeding these puppies some secret Miracle Grow, or my brain is tiny.

PS - Brit Brit, I took this for you. I saw this wall and thought only of your face --not because you look like a wall, but because you (and I quote) "like exposed brick wall more than most people."

nails did

2009-05-27T10:06:00.000-07:00

I got this manicure for $1 y'all. When the woman asked what I wanted I began to choose some pale peach hues and light gold sparkles. She pushed those aside and said, "this is Cuba, not Canada," and slammed a bottle of fuschia nail polish on the table.

Whatever you like is what I like, I said.

Ay Caramba!

2009-05-26T12:38:00.000-07:00

I'm exshmoosted. I got home to Toronto this morning from Cuba, after seven days in the city of Santiago. Not knowing when I'd be able to have internet connection was unnerving, and in the end I had about 10 minutes in 7 days, which for those of you who can wing some arithmatic, is no mucho. I felt guilty everyday that I wasn't updating my blog, and yet there was just not much I could do. On the other hand I was in an entirely different city from any I have ever known, and I'm very thankful I was able to take this trip.

In an effort not to sound patronizing or condescending about the experience, I will instead gather my thoughts and share tomorrow. Right now I'm running on about three hours sleep, one bowl of pho, a kinder surprise, and a swift bike ride through downtown t zone.

Here is the children tour of Santiago and Barracoa, a clear theme I noticed in sorting my pictures from the trip. The award for Overall Cutest Child goes out to the little boy in gym shorts and old man loafers who posed for me every chance he got. When I turned my camera around to show him the pictures I had just taken, he ran away laughing hysterically, which I'm pretty sure is Cuban for "damn I look good in these."

wa wa wa weekend

2009-05-18T08:23:00.000-07:00

Weekend blogging is sometimes difficult to fit in, especially when you're stuffing your face full of delicious appetizers, mains, and desserts. I really love to cook and this weekend I tried out a couple recipes I've never made before, but somehow forgot to take pictures of the food. Do not fear internet! I took plenty of myself to make up for it.

We ended up at Watusi one night, some random Tibetan bar/restaurant another, and visited the beaches. Er, how did we end up at H&M? Heh...Girls are good at that. Man, though, I just want to buy everything there and wear it all at once so I can be Sweden's next top model.

These are the cherry stems I tied in knots with my tongue. Thanks, yep, go on, call Guinness Book they don't want me.

In my last order of business I must add that I'm leaving for Cuba tomorrow. Noah and I are going for a week to visit his mom and sis and I'm unsure about what kind of reliable internet connection I'll have access to there (if any). I might enlist mini-me (my sissy poo) to stand in as lowercasecarmen, but we'll have to see if she's up for the job. Meg, can you be hilarious and narcissistic? These are tough shoes to fill. Call me.

2009-05-16T23:14:00.000-07:00

Friends in from out of town, late-night tibetan momos, lemon risotto, lychee panna cotta. We are eating too much and I've had no time to post.

Mom, Dad, sis, I will be back soon.

I might try to submit this one to McSweeney's

2009-05-14T09:55:00.000-07:00

Things people like to yell at me when I am riding my bike and they are drunk:

1. Lady in red!!

2. Don't shoot, I'm unarmed (let's assume all of these end in exclamation points)

3. Being environmentally friendly heeeey?

4. Schmoopie Doopie (got that one last night)

and a drumroll please, 5. Hey baby

I don't have a reasonable explanation for this narcissistic photoshoot

2009-05-12T16:56:00.000-07:00

I took these pictures before I laid down on the floor and called my boyfriend at work. I didn't want to freak anyone out, but I uh, had some flu like symptoms and started to feel like I couldn't get up. They were afraid that I might have had the wine-say lu-fay, but everyone was too terrified to actually say the words, even the nurse. Turns out all's good in the hood, and after I popped some advil cold and flu pills, I was feeling much better.

During my clinic visit the nurse asked if I had visited Mexico recently and I was like, yeah, I wish. I popped down right after my weekend rendezvous to Paris with all this extra cash I have. I did have a taco the other night though, so, does that count?

kings and queens

2009-05-11T20:19:00.000-07:00

Recently my boyfriend and I have been looking for some pretentious art to adorn our bare walls. Up until today we only had the infamous pony painting --a masterpiece I created to replace the original that was oddly stolen from an apartment lobby...but that is another tale.

Like everything else I hold dear, I found two regal painting today at the village of value. Perhaps my affinity for this urine-scented store is unhealthy (literally) but at least my addiction is 'recession-friendly'. Yeah, whatever, I just barfed in my mouth too.

I dedicate these paintings to my dad, a man who admires the British royal family and all that they stand for.

HMD!

2009-05-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

Happy Mother's Day Mom!

Mom! I made you pancakes! You just have to download this program so that you can have them teleported kay?! You know me, I don't really understand tekmology and what not, but since you're so good with computers I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out.

When I was little my mom used to say that she loved her bed so much --the comfy pillows and nice big duvet-- so I took note. When it came time to make our mother's day cards in grade one my teacher instructed us all to draw our mom's doing whatever it is that they loved most. I drew a huge picture of my mom snoozing in bed with the caption, "My mom LOOOVVVESSS to sleep!".

I forgot to add, "just sleepin' off that hangover!"

Love you mom!

turns out it was strawberry flavoured

2009-05-09T16:07:00.000-07:00

This one was a risk, and the bubbles definitely weren't black, but the verdict is good. I like buying things from chinatown with absolutely no English writing on them because it makes me feel cool. I think next week I'll get more adventurous and try the basil seed drink or wheat jelly. Both sound fairly disgusting.

For some reason I like drinking wine out of small tumblers. Especially ones stolen from The Dakota.

day to night

2009-05-07T11:57:00.000-07:00

Went for a bike ride today to meet my boyfriend on his lunch break.

Does everyone know what time it is?

Can I get an aw yeah?

There are some gems in here. So fresh.

This one's for you dad.

And um, oh hai! Dance party excellent last night.

Met a sassy lady and broke it down on the dance floor.

hubba hubba

2009-05-06T12:36:00.000-07:00

Chef Michael Smith is pretty much my all time celebrity crush. Once he plugs in his KitchenAid mixer and starts on bread dough, I'm all "you had me at whole grain flour". Sure, some of you may be more of a Clooney or Pitt kinda gal, but here are a couple reasons why this dude pulls at my heart strings.

1. At 6'7" he is literally a giant. He claims to be the world's tallest chef, and I have no reason to fight him. I figure he could lift me with one arm.

2. He has a beard. This adds to his gruff and rough island appeal, and I like to picture him walking home with a giant cedar tree in each arm calling out "honey, just gonna make a canoe!"

3. He bakes and cooks and produces homemade bread daily. Um, two seconds ago he made a butter recipe comprised of two ingredients: browned butter and normal butter. I could get used to that.

4. He has the cutest son in the world and together they look like they could take on the world. What does that look like? I have no fucking clue, they're just adorable.

5. The framed pictures of his wife could easily be replaced. Huh? What wife? That's right.

6. Have I mentioned the beard?

7. I dunno, I'm running out of ideas but currently he's baking chocolate peanut butter squares.

8. His kitchen alone looks bigger than my entire apartment so he's gotta be rich. Money ain't everything, but happiness comes so much easier when you can afford truffle oil.

9. His cooking show slogan is "my recipe is using no recipe!" so you know he's spontaneous. That's probably one of the eHarmony points of compatibility and I'm giving it a big ol' check mark.

10. Watch his show once and you'll realize he has no asshole chef ego. He's so wholesome and down to earth, always preaching the joys of sharing food. I'd like to share something with Michael Smith too, like, oh I dunno...the rest of my life.

Call me, Mikey.

I'm watching south park right now

2009-05-05T18:28:00.000-07:00

My boyfriend took this picture and all he had to do to get Meredith to scream with glee was hold up a gluten free muffin.

forecast for two fish

2009-05-04T08:33:00.000-07:00

As I sat in the waiting room I tried to tell myself that I could be anywhere, any room, with dark wood paneling and rows of files. In some ways it looked like a library, and if I thought of it that way I might feel less anxious. Think of archives, archives, --not hospitals.

Here, fill out some forms. Okay. Rate pain on a scale of 1-10, sign your name at the bottom of every page. Yes.

The doctors can't find a specific X-ray and a patient seems angry. She says there would be no point in her coming all this way for nothing. An old man with a walker arrives, the secretary says he's early in a very loud voice. He looks like the kind of guy who likes to be early.

Today I read my horoscope even though it creeps me out, just to see if things will go uphill or down from here. I tend to be pretty adamant about avoiding whatever is predicted for Pisces, but today I just wanted someone to throw me a bone. It told me to start asking for favours and help...

When I was still young enough to be living with my parents I can remember finding a solitary lottery ticket every now and again. The small pieces of paper showed up on the kitchen table after car engines were replaced and orthodontic bills were paid, and I could always picture my mom or dad standing at the gas station counter. Maybe my parents had resorted to reading their horoscopes then too.

In the month of May the stars say you should get a 649 ticket. The 11th will be lucky for love.

Hizzats.

2009-05-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

I went to The Toronto Clothing show today with my friend Joanna and spent a couple hours perusing the overwhelming aisles. There were some overly aggressive business men and women, but for the most part the vendors were great. If it isn't already obvious from my pictures, I tended to gravitate towards the hats. I started to feel like I should be going to horse races or spring parties in the Hamptons, but I don't think either of those things will be happening anytime soon.

One woman told me that men like women in hats, that they're coming back in style. I'm fairly certain that she just wanted me to buy hats from her, but I thought her male validation angle was pretty hilarious.

In the meantime I leave you with eerie mannequins who went a little airbrush make-up happy. You see ol' Blue Nose over there? She's even got eye shadow on her nose. For now I'm going to finally go to bed because tomorrow morning I've got waffles to make.

Thanks again to Isabel for the tickets!

srsly guys, who wants to hire me?

2009-05-01T21:09:00.000-07:00

The bus driver motions me on and I ask him quickly if he could tell me when we get to Rideau street. I'm unfamiliar with the city and when I exit the subway I can't tell which way north is. I think briefly of buying a compass.

"I don't know what you're talking about. What is "ree-doe" ma'am? Get on the bus."

I'm pulled in with the rush of people and feel silly for asking my question. I find a seat and figure I'm heading in the wrong direction. The computerized voice announces that the next stop is College, then Rideau. I want to kill the bus driver but I throw up my arm and give stink eye instead. I am passive aggressive.

The rest of the day was sucked up by a uhaul, a back injury, and taking out hundees from the bank. I almost fainted when I looked at my account balance, something I've been avoiding since NOVEMBER. Yep, five months without looking.

I wish I was lying about that last part.

facebook taught me to refer to myself in the third

2009-04-30T07:25:00.000-07:00

She woke up to find that he had already left for work. The kids outside screamed in the park, and as of yet, she was not annoyed. Pulling herself out of bed and stumbling into the kitchen in search of coffee, she wondered how long it would be until she hung her head out of the window and told the little ones to shut up.

Luckily, for the time being, she was busy with the thought of caffeine.

this has gone too far

2009-04-29T21:03:00.000-07:00

Untitled from Lowercase Carmen on Vimeo.

I realized after I made this that the concept of a toaster is just not that hard to grasp. But there are so many settings! And you can control the darkness!

Um yeah, we got it.

Yeesh, I dunno guys, I haven't left my apartment in so long because of a final assignment and scouring craigslist for deals --but I promise brain activity will return to normal soon. Enjoy!

afternoon walks, nighttime posts

2009-04-28T19:24:00.000-07:00

Raymi , I see your ugly mannequin and I raise you an even fuglier one. I think somebody bit its nose off. Poor thing doesn't even get a wig.

Sorry y'all, I'm finishing the very last assignment/obligation of my degree tonight and tomorrow morning and then I can return to posts that might not suck.

I had a job interview today via the phone and it was great to roll out of bed and brew a cup of coffee without having to worry about make up. I think I even picked my nose during our conversation simply because I could. For the record I was wearing spandex pants and my boyfriend's sweater, an outfit that would never fly in an office.

And on one last note of business, if you live in the Toronto area and want to get rid of lamps, beds, bookshelves or tables, holla back at this girl.

For Monsieur Pierce

2009-04-27T17:40:00.001-07:00

Untitled from Lowercase Carmen on Vimeo.

Dear Tony,

Yes, the mirror is dirty and I sound like a monotone milly. Meh. It is also Monday now and not Friday. I get a B- on my video post report card.

xo carm

we don't say bonjour here

2009-04-27T13:13:00.000-07:00

I took a (crooked) picture of myself as I headed out the door of my apartment in Montreal. I have let too many important moments go by without commemorating them simply because I feel like making a big deal of things makes me arrogant or selfish. My therapist told me this whole idea is silly, and he has three degrees so I'm thinking he's right and I'm wrong.

I want to be able to remember how hard my degree was, but also what an awesome experience living in Montreal was. I was ready to move out of my sketchy neighbourhood, away from the abusive hobos, but I don't think you're ever really ready to leave supportive and hilarious friends.

Today I met my boyfriend Noah for lunch on his break, and as we stood in the ice-cream shop near his work the woman working there asked us if we were locals, if she'd be seeing us again.

"Yeah," we both said, "we're locals."

Bye guys,

bonsoir montreal hello toronto

2009-04-26T21:19:00.000-07:00

I just got into Toronto a couple of hours ago and have been trying to unwind, eat some food, and figure out how to settle in. The past three days have been full of hectic packing, sad goodbyes that I tried not to dwell on, and realizing that I have too much shit to my name.

Arriving at our apartment was a bit strange tonight, especially knowing that so much of what lies ahead is uncertain. I don't know if I expected to get so attached to the lovely friends I have in Montreal, or whether I anticipated missing a city that saw me through so much grief, but either way it was very heartbreaking to drive out of Montreal today.

Tomorrow I will wake up and sum things up a little more astutely, try to represent my experience of Montreal better, but for now I am going to get a good night's sleep. I'm exhausted and kind of terrified, and most of all, hoping that all this kind of drastic change is good for me.

housekeeping

2009-04-23T09:16:00.001-07:00

There's a great scene in TommyBoy where David Spade pretends to be the hotel housekeeper and Chris Farley does his usual angry fat man routine. Anyway...it's not that great, really just nostalgic.

Just wanted to update and say that there is a "Twitter" link on my sidebar so you can follow my every thought. The majority of my tweets happen when I wake up and are generally focused on a)brewing coffee, b)drinking brewed coffee, c)dreaming about next cup. However, I did also twitter about conditioner today soooo, that's pretty interesting.

All that excitement and more, on twitter!

The second bit of housekeeping is to let everyone (mom, dad, sister) know that there is also an archives link in the sidebar, with posts dating from 2006-2008.

The third thing I wanted to mention is that I might have a banana split party tonight.

an open letter

2009-04-22T19:49:00.000-07:00

This picture is shitty, just like your produce.

Dear Rather Expensive and Somewhat Inconvenient Quebecois Grocery Store,

I appreciate that you are right around the corner from my apartment, easily accessible when I have run out of milk and/or coffee and am completely unable to function without my morning fix. In this regard, you don't completely suck. Unfortunately though, you have few (if any) other redeeming qualities, and when I leave you in my dust come Sunday morning, I will not lose any sleep missing you. And yes, I know, you the personified grocery store will not miss me either.

I want to say thankyou to the employee with the red glasses for always sighing loudly, being genuinely unpleasant and refusing to help me out when I struggle with French. You're such a joy to run into each week, all your passive aggressive tendencies and strange inability to smile! How refreshing and unique!

I could not have made it through this school year without your exorbitantly expensive grocery items and inconvenient hours of operation. I thought it was cute when you randomly hiked up the prices on the few, modest foods I have made it a habit to buy. It was sneaky, and rather discreet, but my wallet caught on to you!

The strawberries I picked up today turned out to be mushy and rotten even though I did a fairly good job of looking them over, but I consider this a testament to your standards of quality. Why not put a giant label on those packages? It makes it that much harder to see the brown fucking berries.

Oh, and one more thing. Thanks soooo much for having giant bars of chocolate on sale today (Yeah, Ali, if you're reading this go get in on that). Between Easter Feaster, exams, and pms I hadn't stuffed enough chocolate into my face already.

Me and my steadily growing ass want to give you a big ol' thankyou.

xoxo Carmen

party time excellent!

2009-04-21T21:19:00.000-07:00

My time in Montreal is quickly winding down and I'm trying frantically to fit in last minute dentist visits and quality time with mes amis. Today between the text, phonecall, and email I received from my boyfriend about the apparent pygmy goat we're adopting (would totally be a reality if things were up to me), I actually got a lot done as far as arbitrary errands go.

In an effort to clear out my belongings before moving day I've been refusing to buy new groceries. This of course means that none of my meals resemble anything close to balance, with olives and oats factoring heavily into most things I concoct. Besides a sprinkle of parsley I don't think I've eaten anything green in quite some time --hopefully this will change soon.

Here are some pictures of parties past. Oddly, when temperatures drop so far below zero that your snot freezes, the world also magically turns black and white. You should visit Montreal and experience it all sometime.

road kill

2009-04-20T20:02:00.000-07:00

I'm currently eating hello kitty waffles with ma girl B. We discovered that cute cat and bunny faces taste even better with dulce de leche.

The dulce de leche we are eating may or may not have been found on the side of the road in a large box. Our friends stole one jar, realized it tasted so good, went back to get the rest of the jars, dropped and cracked 6 of the 18 jars, and salvaged a usable 12.

Thank god for that dozen.

the soft jingling is the sound of my hello kitty keychain

2009-04-19T18:17:00.000-07:00

Untitled from Lowercase Carmen on Vimeo.

can't hardly wait

2009-04-18T10:33:00.000-07:00

I often spend entire days just by myself. I don't feel lonely or bothered by this, in actuality I think it's been a comfortable habit. I remember when I first got my license at 16 that I would drive to the mall about half an hour away from my parent's house, and just wander around for a few hours. It wasn't even about shopping, I hardly ever bought anything, but I liked being around people without actually having to make conversation. I think the drive was an important part of the whole activity, it was nice to listen to music and feel like I had the freedom to go where I wanted to when I wanted to. Lately I've been thinking about how much I miss driving, especially late at night when no one else is on the road.

Being in a long distance relationship can be really difficult at times, and I've become accustomed to the two extremes of companionship; doing everything as a pair while you're together, and then suddenly being back at your apartment with a sad, empty bed. When I'm writing papers I can forget about the distance, but all of a sudden I'm at the grocery store looking at lychees and I feel sad that my favourite guy isn't there to make a joke about balls. And really, my grocery buddy is so astute that any item can merit a joke about balls.

And as my creative writing prof would ask me, referring to a short story or a memoir, but why is this coming up? Why is the narrator choosing to tell the story now?

My best answer is that in a week I move from Montreal to Toronto, in with my boyfriend who I won't have to miss anymore, or buy phone cards to call, or help dress without being there in person to just grab the blue sweater and the white top and say "here, put this on, trust me."

I can't tell you how many times, while mid-way through a heinous 15 page paper, I've daydreamed about this move and this summer and being outside in the sun drinking mojitos with my favourite grocery buddy.

I'm so so excited.

my life is half price

2009-04-17T13:10:00.000-07:00

Turns out there's a lot of stuff you can get done in a day when you're not writing essays. Go figure, eh? This morning I dropped off the last essay of my entire degree and then headed to Value Village. Ali, if you're reading this, don't worry, I'll still go with you next week (I can never get enough).

On the metro there were two punk ass kids sitting on their bikes, and after a few stops I realized that one of them was puking into a shopping bag. They looked too young to be hung over, but then again they were old enough to be wearing cubic zirconia earrings so...I think that means 14? Anyways, they were almost as classy as the elderly woman wearing head-to-toe leather. Rock it gramma!

Without fail Value Village is always in the most ghetto neck of the woods. It took me about 400 metro stops to get out there.

And of course, my thrify finds from the village of value. First up, I've broken my no-flannel rule. Easter colours huh?

Second a striped tanktop that would have cost 4000 times as much at AA. I got it mostly because I liked the material.

And thizzle, a dress with sparkley bits that I'm thinking about hemming to make shorter. My boyfriend is already in favour of the change. I think I might wear it out to dinner tonight.

Bonsoir!

graduation the right way

2009-04-16T10:35:00.000-07:00

I've had to drop by campus several times this week to hand in some take-home essays, and each time I get there I'm like, c'mon! I'm graduating, where are all the sirens and kazoos? I forget that every year there is a graduating class, and as a friend pointed out to me, the difference between me and them is modesty.

This last semester, aside from stresses, has been so underwhelming. Like, geez, I've worked so hard and then all I get to do is walk quietly off campus for the last time?

I wish that you got an exit interview on the late show, or ellen...I'd even settle for a slot on the tyra(nnical) show.

Ellen: Carmen! Carmen you look great!

Carmen: Oh gosh, Ellen stop it. No, stop it, I just threw on this outfit.

Ellen: Well how does it feel? I mean, look, you spent the last four years in school is that right?

Carmen: Yeah, oh it's no big deal...

Ellen: Yes it is! Celebrate girl! You know what you need? A dance party!

[Ellen and I would dance around the audience and I'd be giving high fives all over the place and then we'd end with one of those hip bumps].

Ellen: Carmen! You're such a good dancer too.

Carmen: Oh I'm just having fun, [look out to the audience and raise my hand] it's these guys who are the real stars!

Ellen: Well yeah. But we're moving off topic, let's focus on you.

Carmen: Gosh Ellen, whatta you wanna know?

Ellen: Tell me, I heard you have this whacky talent.

Carmen: Oh no, what do have up your sleeve?! [I'll lean back in my chair and start to laugh]

Ellen: I heard you can lick your elbow!!!

Carmen: Oh who told you that!? I'm gonna kill my agent [the camera pans to my agent in a pantsuit backstage shrugging and laughing] Oh well okay okay, if you really insist that I show this off on public television.

[lick elbow, crowd goes wild]

Ellen: Okay, we have one more surprise for everybody here today.

Carmen: You all get...PINA COLADAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i can't hear you, you're breaking up

2009-04-15T17:06:00.000-07:00

My boyfriend is at work late, I just got a phonecall from him.

Bf: hey baby, you want an external hardrive?

me: yeah okay.

bf: how big?

me: wait, are we talking about sex?

bf: no, I'm talking about hardrives...like as in computers.

me: right.

i get a surgery, concordia university cashes in

2009-04-15T16:29:00.000-07:00

Back in March I had all four of my wisdom teeth removed by very nice man who likes to hurt people. I didn't react well to the IV sedation drugs and there have been a slew of post-surg complications that I won't bore you with.

One of the unfortunate results of all this is that I had to put my weekly runs on hold, and damn that kind of sucks when you've got easter and exams --the two big E's that are sure to put pounds on your ass. To put it in the bluntest terms, I can feel the blood thumping, pumping, and pounding in my jaw/head when I do so much as jump. I had to quit pogo stickin' too.

Today as I strolled on over to the metro at school I passed the gym and sort of froze for a moment. I had completely forgotten about my membership, that stupid thing I paid money for, and felt the guilt set in. In truth the lost money bothered me more than any fitness goal, and as I stood there I realized what an idiot I looked like. I was holding a can of coke and some reeses peanut butter cups, gazing longingly at the elipticals.

Next week I'll show up with some vitamin water and a celery stick, see what that does for my self-esteem.

I'm on a roll here

2009-04-14T20:53:00.000-07:00

Sigh. I just realized that one of the final exams I handed in today was completely missing a part. So I decided to console myself by eating some pasta which I'm pretty sure is some kind of woman diet no no. I remember reading a riveting interview with Rebecca Romijn (Stamos no more!) where she said she doesn't eat carbs in the second half of the day and well, judging by her smoking body I should probably listen to her.

And I should also probably do my final exams right so that I don't regret getting no sleep and never going out on weekends and writing essays 6 days a week for the past 4 years. Yeah, that's another thing I should probably do.

I also didn't know I was scheduled for work today. Missed that sucker too!

Alright, yep, totally got your point Rebecca. You're pretty and happy. Laugh it up.

keepin' it mont-real

2009-04-14T10:56:00.000-07:00

I live in the gay village. Say that like "vill-ahj"

The homies across the street live in a castle. Seriously, you should see the courtyard it's like that movie secret garden.

That balcony up in the top right corner pulls at my heart strings.

Somebody's swank tour bus. You on there Raymi?

I swear to god 90% of the garbage in my neighbourhood is from tim hortons. Good job helping out the environment Tim!

Shiiiiit, get a load of that vitamin D!

Today it is gloriously sunny in Montreal, and warm enough that I could wear my Vancouver coat. For me that tends to be the ultimate test, whether or not I can wear my westcoast clothes.

I think what's really great about eastern canada is the whole mentality around the drastic season changes. Growing up in Vancouver we have a lot of rain, yes it's all true, but there are four seasons. In Montreal I've only experienced two, major cold and major hot. As an ameteur to the freezing temps, the first winter was the hardest. The worst part was not the temperature so much as it was the length of time that snow remains on the ground. I can remember being in the middle of April exams last year, looking out the window to see snow falling and feeling like it would be a good time to jump off a fucking building.

But eastern canadians are incredibly resilient, they have this built-in defense mechanism which allows them to forget the winter when summer arrives. For me, this is difficult, I remember the pain, the frozen snot, the nights walking home when I thought limbs would have to eventually be amputated. I remember darkness at 4pm and snowfall after snowfall after depressing slit-your-wrists snowfall.

Meanwhile, everyone else around here is like, what snow? it's boiling and I'm wearing hot pants bitches!

And really, nothing signals the beginning of summer like that chick I went to highschool with updating her facebook status to: Traded in my uggs for some flippy floppies for good!

hola como estas!

2009-04-13T15:22:00.000-07:00

It's kind of awesome having a foreign cousin whose North American pop culture references are so far out of date. Sometimes my cousin will message me on facebook being like, "have you heard movie Grease?!?! So good, so so funny, with the song that make two people singing?!!"

You betcha. You should watch Free Willy next, it's epic.

eeeester feeester recap

2009-04-13T08:58:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures of last night's feast. Brittney and Thea are domestic goddesses that sort of function like calm siamese twins in the eye of a storm. While the rest of us are loitering around the kitchen being useless and wondering if the bird will cook on time, B is just using her 8 arms to multi-task. She baked a turkey and a ham at the same time. When I told her that I might not be able to make it to dinner, that I had so many exams and essays to finish she admitted that yes, dinner was sort of early and no I probably wouldn't get any work done for the rest of the night, but Jesus did die for my sins. Yeesh girl, I'm there.

people post pictures of their cat when they have nothing else to say

2009-04-12T20:46:00.000-07:00

I just overdosed on a giant easter feast.
I dropped a hilarious knee-slapper about vegans to the only vegans at the party.
I finished one third of a final take-home exam.
I told myself I would come home and work some more but I'm exhausted.
I laughed a lot and was thankful for an extended period of time in which I wasn't citing religious texts in MLA.
I thought of this hilarious zinger about Julia Roberts that I'll pull out when the timing is right and then saw a post about her on this sweet girl blog.
I have the four day countdown to graduation on!
I plan to go to my favourite bakery in Montreal the day after I'm done and buy several creme brulees.
I should go to the gym.

I think I'm gonna go google image search pictures of Miley Cyrus's studly boyfriend and then pass out.

this is a message to all you haters

2009-04-11T18:03:00.000-07:00

I think he's actually holding a bible here (Image credit: disneydreaming.com)

After seeing Brittney's post (seriously, go read it or this whole thing won't make any sense) I had to do a post-response. Response-post? There's gotta be a better term for that.

Let me start out by saying that unlike my girl B, I think I have totally hit rock bottom with this one. Taylor Swift? I had to wikipedia her ass just to figure out whose voice I was listening to. Singer-songwriter, model, probably does something else too like baking and ballet --just enough to make her a quadruple threat.

The admittedly lame series of events which led me to even discover who this 5'11" chica (yeah, just go ahead and throw that in my face too Taylor) started with Facebook. Obviously, in an effort to further procrastinate during exams I was looking at the profile of a girl I used to babysit. The reason I looked at her profile is because she just won the Miss Teen British Columbia contest. Okay, so before I continue degrading myself let's do a quick round up to fully illustrate how lame I get when 5 essays are hovering menacingly over my head: I go on facebook, I look at someone's profile I haven't spoken to in over 5 years, this leads me to Youtube, and then to Wikipedia to educate my stupid (read: old and out of touch) ass.

So Miss Teen B.C. (who by the way is a hilarious, kind, etc, etc person) has posted a video of a party she went to where essentially this song, "Love Story" came on and every single attendee knew the words. It was like a music video but in real life. They were happy, they were excited, they were hugging and swaying and really connecting with the whole Romeo and Juliet theme. And then there I was, sitting dumbfounded because:

a) I had never, never heard this song. I was that older person who just had no clue what was going on.

and b) They are so young! So small! So happy and unburdened by the weight of life!

It incited this horrible onslaught of memories, nostalgia, nausea...sadness. Would I be a complete douche bag if I said the whole experience made me "profoundly sad"?

Looking good dood (Image credit: cisoto.blogspot.com)

And then of course, to add insult to injury, I watch the stupid Taylor Swift version and start to like it/feel the same way. She's all, ha bitches, I'm a princess and I'm not writing exams. Also, she gets to frolic in a field with Miley Cyrus's boyfriend while I google image search pictures of him in his underwear.

Now that is rock bottom, Brit Brit.

Trying to make a good impression on the gf's dad. Looking a bit old Mr. Ray but who's comparing? Eh? Amiright? (Image credit: nachofphoto.com)

y'all don't know me!

2009-04-10T11:14:00.000-07:00

When I was in grade seven I went through a really awesome white eye-liner phase that probably lasted a bit too long. Of course the phase was not marked solely by white eyeliner, there was also blue mascara and lots of shiny lipgloss. I looked like an idiot and yet my mom was never like, "Hey clown, look in the mirror!" before I left the house. In hindsight I can't tell if that was a considerate or inconsiderate move. Was it testament of unconditional love? A hidden desire for someone else to call me a clown? I can't be sure.

Since then there have been other memorable phases, like the period of my life where I only wore skin tight jeans (no pocket allowed!) paired with baggy sweatshirts, or the summer I spent 23 hours a day on msn. I'd like to be able to recall a more positive phase, like that winter I planted trees or raised money for endangered wildlife, but those just never really caught on. I was too busy buying trying to make myself beautiful.

The other night I was chatting with Tony and I mentioned how I eat pancakes or waffles (Hello Kitty waffles specifically) every morning. He was like, every morning? And then I thought, oh God, it's another phase.

Ha, um, no...not every morning. Just now and again when I feel like it.

But in all honesty, yes, affirmative, I do eat pancakes or waffles each morning, and I make them from scratch. Today's batch was banana cinnamon. The pro about this phase is that I don't look like a clown while doing it. The con is that my ass will probably grow.

I promise that even though they kind of look like barf, they taste really good. Even better than eyeliner.

Plenty of Fish in the Sea

2009-04-09T20:41:00.001-07:00

Today someone found my blog by googling "feeling old at 30" which is so incredibly depressing. Number one, 30 is not old. Number two, this blog doesn't offer much in the way of consolation. I'm sorry.

I think what really pains me about the whole thing is that the motivations of this specific google user aren't even clear. She --I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume it was a woman who just watched some Hannah Montana at her niece's birthday party or something --didn't phrase the search as a question, as in "Feeling old at 30? Not me."

Nor was it a firm, confident statement: "Feeling old at 30!"

It wasn't even an acceptance of age: "Do you feel old at 30? Let's feel old together!"

No, sadly it was just plain: "feeling old at 30, can't use capital letters or adequate punctuation, kinda depressed, need answers, help me google"

So I change my mind and want you to know, you anonymous googler, that I do offer up some consolation. Cry on my blog's shoulder, pick yourself up off the floor, put on a coat of mofo'n mascara and go to plentyoffish

Go catch a winner so that I can stop using lame fishing metaphors.

PS - other honourable mentions that I was too tired to come up with puns/extended metaphors for: Jdate, and the infamous AshleyMadison.

connect 4!

2009-04-08T13:47:00.001-07:00

Images used with the permission of all three dogs

I have a really long, boring, stupid, boring essay to write --and when I finish it I get to reward myself with another. This is THE dreaded period of time in a school year, so here are some links to a few people who apparently can balance work with awesome.

She still manages to get dressed during exam period. And not just getting dressed in the I-have-to-cover-my-private-parts-what-is-clean? sense, but rather the wow-she-consistently-looks-cute sense. I tend to favour ninja turtle-esque headbands that make me look lame.

Stereotypical stereotypes.

I get fat just looking at these pictures...but in a good way?

I can has kittenz?

On now, Blitzen! Wrong time of year, I know, but just go already.

I will never love you more than the drummer from Flaming Lips

2009-04-07T12:12:00.000-07:00

It's kind of incredible how much a coffee, chocolate cupcake, and seeing a 400lb businessman shamelessly reading Star Trek on the metro can cheer you up when shit is going rough.

Regrets

2009-04-06T18:38:00.000-07:00

No one is immune to moments of weakness. You know the drill. You've been fantasizing about that chocolate bar over at the super french depanneur, hear it calling your name softly, seductively, and at the height of your exhaustion you cave. You black out momentarily and then find yourself thumbing through stacks of Caramilks and Wunderbars, comparing nutrition information to see which one is gonna add more jiggle to your ass. You convince yourself that a difference of 7 calories is significant and look up to see that homeless guy who punched you two weeks ago in the back section of the store near the coolers, balancing as many Pabst Blue Ribbons as he can carry in the crook of his arm. You grab a magazine to further procrastinate writing those final essays, and walk up to the till. You look like a creep. You are wearing sweat pants and a sweater you stole from your brother, neither of which fit you properly. The only two items you are purchasing are a chocolate bar and a magazine with Lindsay Lohan on the cover --you have hit a new low.

This is exam time, this is your life...Yeesh.

girls and boys and cats

2009-04-05T20:14:00.000-07:00

Images used without the permission of my friends or their cat

I have exactly three days of school left...ever. Though I probably will have to lean on a lil' friend I call grad school after realizing that a writer has no place in a drowning economy, I am still relishing in all that "Ever" entails. You may be familiar with "Ever" in tales about your favourite princess or fairy, or even its strange cameo in that old Outkast song Ms. Jackson. No matter which way you slice it, Ever (or "eva" if you're a hip-hop artist) = awesome.

Unfortunately, because my life is not chronicled on Full House or Saved by the Bell, I don't have the benefit of looking upon the last four years in a slow motion montage, singling out the distilled moments in which my poufed bangs looked bangin', or when Zach finally prioritized me over popularity. You don't understand Olsen twins, you've got that in the bag! Kelly Kapowski, eat shit you had at least 4 exclusive montages. Becky and Jesse, you two deserve nothing after all your post-fight audience "aweeee" fests. Real life is so much harder!

So the question is, how do you commemorate 120 university credits? 89 (I said EIGHTY NINE) essays? 2 universities? 6 apartments? 1,000,000 anxiety attacks?

I'm looking at you poutine, and you beer, and if the mood is right --a winning combination of the two.

4 Eyes

2009-04-04T18:23:00.000-07:00

I recently went to get my eyes checked because I graduate very soon and all my glorious medical coverage ends. Friends have been urging me to hit up every doctor and specialist I can find but, embarrassingly, I already do that. It's called hypochondria! I haven't noticed many problems with my eyesight but let's face it, glasses make you look cool and smart. I may or may not have exaggerated my intermittent-nighttime-eyestrain "issue" in order to get a prescription, but a prescription it is!

Having never worn glasses before I had no idea what these things could do. Because my vision is actually quite good and the strain only affects me sometimes, these things practically make me superhuman. I've been putting text books halfway across the room to test my new powers and the results are impressive.

To be safe, I had someone else try these frames on before me. She looks good.

Oh yeah, glasses are the new hairband.

i hope my roommate doesn't read my blog

2009-04-03T13:52:00.000-07:00

Alright, r-mate, if you do read this I'm sorry and am not trying to offend you. The 'friend'/cool dude you had over last night seemed like a real stand up guy, but he delivered some bona fide zingers. At 3am they strolled in, talking loudly and laughing it up outside my bedroom door, where strangely enough, I was trying to sleep.

Among other heartfelt confessions this guy talked about "how much he respects her, like girl, I really do", thus giving Aaron Carter some serious competition for song lyrics. I tried to get past the noise and incessant banging of keys against the kitchen table, but finally got up and asked politely if they could be a bit more quiet. I'm not one for confrontation or even being very assertive, but at 5am I grew some balls.

Although this guy's respect for my r-mate was really touching, it was his opinions on animals that gave me the best laugh. She spoke about wanting to go back to Thailand to help the elephants, and he said that sharks and polar bears don't get enough attention from activists.

"It's hyenas though," he said passionately, "that are my favourite race in the world."

Zing!

I wish everyday was halloween

2009-04-02T06:55:00.000-07:00

...and I was really hello kitty.

i big love her

2009-04-01T19:34:00.000-07:00

I don't often give rapper style shout outs, but tonight, after shamelesly (embarrassingly?) lol-ing in my apartment I thought I'd implore some of you suckers to go read this blog.

I realize we're living in a world that's quickly descending into tweets and the 96 second attention span --but instead of creeping on your partner's ex's facebook profile, read one of her posts because it's a better way to spend your precious time.

What kills me is that, despite the utter hilarity of her writing, this girl just slays in person. I have suggested, rather aggressively and more than once that she pursue a career in stand up comedy. Just get her started on her childhood in the Alberta and you'll be like, shit, my life is so...boring.

She also bakes super cool sparkly things and manages to make even lettuce funny. Aaaand she is blonde with super good taste in eyeglass frames.

the moment you've all been waiting for

2009-03-31T21:24:00.000-07:00

Before getting knocked out with the super fun IV I requested to keep my wisdom teeth. I stupidly assumed that they would give me some perfect pearly white things in a clean bag but it turned out to be the opposite.

On my way out of the hospital, still balling my eyes out and talking like I was drunk, the nurse gave me a package of bloody teeth. I kept on looking at the bag being like, this, this is all I get?! After the pain and terror of the surgery I half expected the bag to be an iridescent pink think with a note signed by the tooth fairy and a $100 gift certificate to Swiss Chalet.

What's most disgusting is that they don't even bother to take the gums off of the teeth. They let you get home, pop a couple percocet and get high before you attempt to rip strips of your own mouth off the stupid things. I eventually went at the molars with a knife, specifically for your viewing pleasure.

It's one thing to show your teeth on the internet for entertainment, it's an entirely other issue to do that with flapping gums still attached.

Once again, you can thank me later.

Voila

This one goes out to raymi the minx, or as we like to say in quebec raymi le minx

2009-03-31T07:44:00.000-07:00

What did you do this morning? Oh me? Not much just, you know, ate hello kitty waffles.

Really, it was no biggie.

Srsly guys, they tasted almost exactly like normal waffles --'cept if you added sparkle fairy dust and smile sugar and happy yum yum fun town. That's the only difference.

My boyfriend is rad for giving me thoughtful gifts. Sank q!

Happy Birthday to Raymi, thought you might appreciate yet another hello kitty reference on your special day. Happy fun sparkle time girl!

The pictures on this post make no sense I will give you a prize if you come up with a theory for their common denominator

2009-03-30T07:36:00.000-07:00

I used to roll out of Montreal on the classy VIA rail train, but now, slightly more impoverished and always last minute I rely on the sketchy rideshare. I drove to and from Toronto with a weird frenchman who explained several things to me:

1) The entire plotline and premise of the "Twilight" series movie. I told him vampire movies weren't really my thing and he said, "No, these vampires are different. The movie was more about story and love...but cool."

2) Cheating on your girlfriend is only bad when you don't have enough energy to come home and have sex with her too. Why was his girlfriend getting on his case about those questionable facebook photos?! Why was she accusing him of cheating yet again? There was NO possible way she could have seen him go to that chick's apartment at 4 am on a Sunday. "Facebook," he whined, "it is the death of me!"

3) "Texting, it is very (h)ard when it is dark and you are driving." Agreed.

4) Women are like nutella jars. Too many spoons and no one wants a dip. He thought this analogy was particularly astute.

5) Leaving your cat alone in an apartment for 6 weeks is okay. Sure, they rip everything up, look dirty and matted, and you receive emails from your neighbours stating that the animal is stuck between the window and the window screen --but it's possible. "The cat wasn't stuck!" he said, "those neighbours are stewpid. She was just bored."

6) Crazy French men DO name their cats "Poutine".

7) Women are over the hill after 21. Once [we] hit a ripe old age of 22 our baby skin is gone and our hips are fat. "I guess it's for da babies," he said.

In the course of our 6 hour ride his girlfriend went from being angry at him, to admitting that she had stolen all his internet passwords (for email, facebook, etc.) to telling him that she was totally done with all his lying and cheating. Done, done, done. I silently thought that this was a good move for her, seeing as her philosophies about relationships clearly weren't matching up with his.

On Sunday's drive home he admitted to me that they were back together. The problem wasn't that he felt sad or guilty, or even that he really wanted to make the relationship work despite his penchant for cheating, but rather that "to break up in person, when she is crying in da Tim (H)ortons's, is very much (h)arder to do than when I text her."

And like any good fairy tale, this one has a moral: technology makes our lives easier.

Vacay

2009-03-28T22:35:00.000-07:00

I decided to take a weekend stress leave and escape to Toronto. It's been long enough now since my surgery that I'm able to eat most(ish) foods, and eating I've been. Nothing like losing ten pounds in a week just to gain it back in three days! Though crispy things like tortilla chips and baguettes prove to be a bit difficult on the gaping gum craters, reeses peanut butter cups are A okay.

The boyfriend and I went out on Friday night, but for the majority of the time we've just stayed in being lazy, watching 30 Rock and having feasts. If this sounds lame to you, great, you're not invited to my next birthday party. I can tell you that after several months of writing essays on Hinduism and Joyce, a simple combination of tv, cheese, and relaxation is like finding two twenties in a pair of pants you discover at the bottom of your closet. Forty bones, you exclaim with glee, what could be better?!

When I get back to Montreal I can upload my more recent pictures, including the ones where I compare the size of my removed wisdom teeth to quarters. I know, I know, way too much suspense.

The Good Kind of Muffin Top

2009-03-25T07:27:00.000-07:00

Image credit: surlatable.com

I was going to google image search the other kind of muffin top, but feared for my own eyes the onslaught of snapshots sure to be waiting.

I think this could be filed under 'inventions that make your life richer'. Of course there is no actual monetary gain --I work with a 20 year old who makes we wanna poke out my eyeballs because he says this in place of 'money'- but I can guarantee that if you finally say goodbye to all those pesky, unsatisfying muffin bottoms you will achieve spiritual enlightenment.

Your welcome, in advance.