Off today for four days in rural Cape Breton... ah vacation. Still tired even though I wimped out and came home early last night. Have to remember to take the Big Brother tape to watch!!
Just need to finish packing now. I hate packing.
I have opinions on things and I like to talk about them.
12.8.05
11.8.05
Happy Birthday to me!
By the age of 35 I was supposed to have a novel written and published. Hm. Well, November is coming.
9.8.05
Big Brother II
NoooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo
oooooooooooooooooooooOOOoOOOOOOO
oooooooOOOoOOOOOOOOOOOooo.
Is all I'm sayin. There is a smell of evil in this place. All you Amurricans best be voted for the big K-Hottay.
oooooooooooooooooooooOOOoOOOOOOO
oooooooOOOoOOOOOOOOOOOooo.
Is all I'm sayin. There is a smell of evil in this place. All you Amurricans best be voted for the big K-Hottay.
Long Sleeves and Cologne
Item the first:
What the HELL is wrong with people who insist on wearing long sleeves and ties in 32 degree heat? HuH? Or, perhaps more to the point, what the hell is with people who insist their employees do so? This is the reason offices have to be kept frigid with AC, to accommodate the wool-suit wearing wonderpants. As was recently pointed out in the Globe and Mail, this leads to the women... dressed sensibly albeit fashionably in lightweight dresses... to crank up space heaters in the dead heat of summer. So we're entering a period of escalating power prices, fossil fuel resource depletion and we're doing what again... ? Oh that's right, burying our toque-wearing heads in some nicely air-conditioned sand.
Item the second:
I've often wondered who in Nova Scotia keeps the fragrance counters running, when so many public spaces are scent-free. Today I uncovered a nest of 'em in Scotia Square. I entered the mall walking in a slime trail of scent from a long-sleeve and tie-clad (see above) man who had clearly just exited his air-conditioned SUV, since he was pristinely non-sweaty despite the muggy heat. He had a perfectly gel-spiked coiffure and was carrying a disposable coffee cup, and exuded that certain ambience that says "finance". Really, all he needed was Bambi's head hanging out of his leather briefcase to ENTIRELY encapsulate the perfect opposite of my ideal man.
Come to find out, he's not a lone wolf. Entire herds of this species were roaming free in the confines of the downtown mall. Colognial territory markers reminded me vaguely of high school and the golden days of Polo and Drakkar. Oily hair gleamed from every corridor.
Open call to all you hunting hippie Amazons out there: join me, the game is here! It's fresh and abundant for anyone with a bow and a travel mug of patchouli. And really, it's like clubbing seals... it's got to be done for the good of the prey. After all, what do these animals chase? Money. And if we don't cull the herd, they'll take it all.
Don't worry about staying downwind.
What the HELL is wrong with people who insist on wearing long sleeves and ties in 32 degree heat? HuH? Or, perhaps more to the point, what the hell is with people who insist their employees do so? This is the reason offices have to be kept frigid with AC, to accommodate the wool-suit wearing wonderpants. As was recently pointed out in the Globe and Mail, this leads to the women... dressed sensibly albeit fashionably in lightweight dresses... to crank up space heaters in the dead heat of summer. So we're entering a period of escalating power prices, fossil fuel resource depletion and we're doing what again... ? Oh that's right, burying our toque-wearing heads in some nicely air-conditioned sand.
Item the second:
I've often wondered who in Nova Scotia keeps the fragrance counters running, when so many public spaces are scent-free. Today I uncovered a nest of 'em in Scotia Square. I entered the mall walking in a slime trail of scent from a long-sleeve and tie-clad (see above) man who had clearly just exited his air-conditioned SUV, since he was pristinely non-sweaty despite the muggy heat. He had a perfectly gel-spiked coiffure and was carrying a disposable coffee cup, and exuded that certain ambience that says "finance". Really, all he needed was Bambi's head hanging out of his leather briefcase to ENTIRELY encapsulate the perfect opposite of my ideal man.
Come to find out, he's not a lone wolf. Entire herds of this species were roaming free in the confines of the downtown mall. Colognial territory markers reminded me vaguely of high school and the golden days of Polo and Drakkar. Oily hair gleamed from every corridor.
Open call to all you hunting hippie Amazons out there: join me, the game is here! It's fresh and abundant for anyone with a bow and a travel mug of patchouli. And really, it's like clubbing seals... it's got to be done for the good of the prey. After all, what do these animals chase? Money. And if we don't cull the herd, they'll take it all.
Don't worry about staying downwind.
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