sweet daddy siki

anyone who knows me very well, (i.e. has had to endure a road trip with me) will know how i love signs. if something looks like it would be fun to say, i have to say it out loud. it can be something as simple as a restaurant announcing a "stack o' pancakes" breakfast special or a repair shop offering a "tire sale". i especially love some of the signs i've seen on churches. two great examples both seen in london:

1) god loves everyone, but he loves the toronto maple leafs more. go leafs go!
2) yeah, that love thy neighbour thing...i meant that. -- god.

i don't know if this goes back to the long road trips i had to endure with my family (and which i wouldn't trade for the world), bored and car sick and trying to focus on anything to keep my mind off the fact that i just barfed in the bag that held all my archie comics.

this love of signery (signification? roadside poetry?) continued it's hold with each drive into charlottetown when we passed the north river fire department that announced local birthdays ("lordy lordy look who's forty") and bits of cliched wisdom ("today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday").

one of my favourite sign stories happened in toronto when i was driving around with my friends andrew and meadow and reading out almost everything that passed in front of my eyes. eventually, they picked up the habit as well and as we were driving along queen street east, meadow read out "karaoke saturday nights hosted by sweet daddy siki". i freaked out. sweet daddy siki was a strangely prevalent part of my childhood. when my dad was a musician in toronto in the 1970s, one of the guys he used to play with was a wrestler named sweet daddy siki. i remember sitting in the basement fiddling around with my dad's drum kit or steel guitar and staring at the picture of the big black wrestler with his white hair and white trunks, standing in the middle of a ring with his arms raised in the air.

new cool word: enigmatology, (n.) the art of making or of solving enigmas.

current music: art brut, bang bang rock n roll. you have to find this album and listen to it. it's cool, post punk, brit pop with a great sense of humour. my favourite song may be "my little brother", though "moving to l.a." is also very funny/cool. but then, the song "modern art" starts off with this great line: "modern art makes me want to rock out (wooh!)." oh forget it, the whole album rocks!

that 70s picture

i like this one, because it looks like something i would come across in one of my grandmother's photo albums. all off kilter like it's the family's first camera, and the colour is a little washed out. (i'll admit, i messed with the light filtre a bit. it's a fun toy...)

me and my babies

well, here are my boys, together in a photo. it isn't the most "together" photo. more of a snap and dash. darcy looks like if he has one more picture taken he's going to smash the camera, and bingley looks like he hasn't quite figured out where he is yet. they're pretty cute. i feel sad for my friend chris missing his cat, and i know i'd be sad without mine, even when they wretch up hairballs like tumbleweed and lick their arses all day long and cry in the middle of the night because it's time to play and bite me when i don't wake up fast enough. what would i ever do without them?

perfectly adjusted organisms

i have got to get a digital camera. there are so many funny things that i see in the run of a day, that it physically hurts that i can't post them all on here. one example, a toothless wonder on dundas street wearing a dirty white t-shirt that says "i love (heart) party girls". sigh, well, until i can afford one, i'll just have to become a better writer. and maybe that will be good for me.

the past two nights, i've watched friday the 13th parts 1 and 2 (it's the 25th anniversary). all these years as a horror fan, and i thought i had seen them. i've definitely not seen them before. and i have to say, i was pleasantly surprised. why they went on to produce so many parts (are they at 11 now?), i don't know. i have to see the third installment, but they probably could have ended after the second one. if you want to see the first one stop reading right now. i mean right now as of that period you just passed. all this time, i thought jason was the killer in each of the movies, so i was really surprised to find out that his mother is the killer in the first one. which has got me wondering now who was the first female serial killer in the slasher genre. i may have a project on my hands here.

in any case, i think it's time for coffee and reading. i just finished e.m. forster's a passage to india. i'm a big forster fan, but i've been putting of reading this book for a long time. it's such a beautifully written book, but even forster himself said after 30 years that the book was dated. i think it is in part, still quite relevant, but i guess the Anglo-India mentality is further removed from me.

most of life is so dull that there is nothing to be said about it, and the books and talk that would describe it as interesting are obliged to exaggerate, in the hope of justifying their own existence. inside its cocoon of work or social obligation, the human spirit slumbers for the most part, registering the distinction between pleasure and pain, but not nearly as alert as we pretend. there are periods in the most thrilling day during which nothing happens, and though we continue to exclaim 'i do enjoy myself' or 'i am horrified' we are insincere. 'as far as i feel anything, it is enjoyment, horror' -- it's no more than that really, and a perfectly adjusted organism would be silent.
~ e.m. forster ~

the glory of the food court

i was at the food court in the craptacular galleria today for lunch, and an old man was looking for an extra chair to bring to his table. a mother and daughter had just abandoned their table, so he scooted over there and placed his palm flat in the middle of the chair. left it there for a minute. stood up straight and paused. then moved to the next chair where he did the same thing. this time he moved his hand up and down along the seat. straightened up and paused. then moved to the next chair. did the same thing, but moved his hand along the seat a bit faster and then grabbed it and took it back to his table. very curious. i couldn't help but stare.

my boss gave me some bamboo for my new desk to welcome me back to the department. it was so sweet. bright orange and blue stones in a square glass vase and three stalks to signify happiness. how feng shui. plus, if you receive a gift of bamboo it's supposed to mean good luck. i'm going to take this all as a good sign.

just finished watching final destination 2. pretty bad, but of course being a horror buff, i'll watch the final installation when it comes out. as far as sequels go, it held more loose ends together than i've usually seen. if you can just sit down and take it for what it is, it's not so bad. one cool thing was seeing michael landes. he was jimmy olsen in the first season of the new adventures of lois and clark. he was replaced in the 2nd season, by some lame ass punk with floopy blonde hair.

man, before i expose too much geek, i should end this bit now...

current song: Kelis vs Coldplay - Nasty Clocks (Attention Deficit Bootleg Mix)

binge and purge

my job at the call centre has been eliminated. they decided (and not before time) that the "call centre" (which consists of two people with no training telling people someone will have to call them back tomorrow) just isn't working. so they've split the call duo in two. i'm going back to work for payroll and my co-worker nathan is working for benefits. this doesn't seem like a big deal, but i am so happy to be back working with my old boss that i couldn't stop smiling all day. there's also better potential for becoming full time in this position. come on big money big money big money! no whammies no whammies!

this is coming shortly after my first ever panic attack. at least i think that's what it was. i'm still not sure. about two weeks ago, i was talking to my frustratingly ditzy (and now former) boss, trying to explain something to her when my head started spinning and i felt out of breath. i ended up running out of the office and sitting on the bathroom floor shivering and hyperventilating. it was so weird. i hope it never happens again, but i think it was my body finally telling me that i can't pick up after everyone. part of the reason why i've been so remiss with my blog is because i've had nothing to talk about besides how much work sucks. the other half of the call duo is a good guy. we go for drinks, joke around and all is well. but he's a terrible co-worker. i was spending all of my time picking up where he left off. if he dropped the ball, i picked it up. everyone would be coming to me to complain about him, and there's only so much i can say to defend the guy. but now with the office changing around, i'm getting a new desk further away from his "i love triumph the insult comic dog" crap, his "you really should invest in mutual funds, put more money in your rrsp, set a price and watch the stock" tirades. look, i hate triumph and, yes, i suck with money, but i don't want a lecture from some lazy ass conan o'brien fanatic.

well, now that that's out of the way...

back in action

well, moved to a new apartment. the phone number stays the same, and i'm still in london. just found out today that we're here illegally. good times. i have to try and smooth things out tomorrow. this is way too stressful. my roommate has gone to bc for the week, work is nuts and now i find out i'm a squatter. christ.

anyway. i've been having a lot of random memories lately. i keep meaning to blog 'em, but now i've forgotten some of them. i'm sure they'll come back.

here's a gem from back in my junior high days. i was madly in love with all the sk8r boyz, and so decided that like a progressive young girl, i should learn how to skate. so i borrowed my neighbour, christopher's extra skateboard, and bought a copy of thrasher magazine (is it still in print?) and generally sucked really bad. anyway, one day i was skating down to the post office with christopher (he hated being called chris. i'd say 'hey chris' and he'd say 'topher'. anyway...), and i'm struggling all the way, and i think we even ran into another chris i had a major crush on at the time, so i was devastated. i check the mail, and lo and behold, there was a letter for me! i opened it right away, and was so embarrassed by what i saw that i hid the letter in my k-way while christopher bugged me about it the whole way home. it was a response to the first and last fan letter i ever wrote....to wil wheaton. to those of you who don't know him, he was ensign wesley crusher on star trek: the next generation. i had written the letter about a year before, and my crush had long since died. secretly, i was excited that i got a response and a picture (when you're from pei, all of these things are exciting), but it totally ruined my 'i'm-a-cool-skater-girl' buzz. he's now running one of the most popular blogs on the internet (he's old skool) which can be fun to read betimes.

so here i sit, in the dark, on a slow crappy computer, drinking a south australian shiraz called hardy's bankside. it's yummy. i highly recommend. i'm trying to expand my wine knowledge, but i won't attempt a sideways summary at this time.

on a final note, my friend doctor lockett has moved to the rock and has started a blog. he's a little long winded (who loves ya baby?!), but he's always got good things to say. i especially love the kilometre breakdown of the drive out there. if you want to check it out: http://newnewfie.blogspot.com/

hope there are still people out there reading this thing. love all y'all.

you put the man in the coconut and grease him all up

and every time i see him i wonder 'does he think he's sexy? does he think i want his body? come on greasy coconut man, let me know.' he is so repulsive. his glistening white hair on his bright red shiny body. yuck. i want you all to get the picture though.

i'm off work for a few days, and can i express how happy i am about that? i'm being productive. reading, glueing wooden desk drawers back together, getting supplies so i can paint some old chairs, packing a few boxes for the move next month. and definitely not answering phones or stressing about paperwork.

so i adopted another cat. that makes two. no more. i don't want to be the crazy cat lady. as it is, i'll probably die single. i don't want to be too stereotypical. in any case, he's one year old and his name is mr. charles bingley. a companion for the 4 year old mr. fitzwilliam darcy. i will recreate pride and prejudice. i will be jane austen...but hopefully not die of mercury poisoning in my 40s.

current music: gorillaz, demon days

yeah, so i suck. whaddya gonna do?

it's been forever i know. things have been very blah recently, and i haven't been in the best of moods for blogging about my boring days. i will blog more. i can't promise to try, but i'll try to try. so a couple of things. in the future i may refer to the following characters:

1) crazy mary - an old woman who pushes a shopping cart heaped with sleeping bags and all her worldly belongings. she likes to yell at people on the street and point out how many hookers there are just walking around pretending not to be hookers. recent quotes from crazy mary: "school abc"; "dislocated thumb"; "it has its mother". more to come...

2) greasy coconut man - he's always in the park when i'm walking home from work. the sun brings them all out. he's a hairy older man with white hair on his chest and shoulders and even a bit on his head. he wears short shorts. he lies on his side, red as a lobster, reading a book, smelling like coconut oil. need i say more? perhaps...yes.

i'm part of the mcclelland & stewart 100 readers club. they asked people to email a few lines to explain why they should get free books and write reviews of them. my lovely entry was one of the chosen ones. it went something like this: "i'm popular, i swear. please pick me." i just finished my first book: the time in between by david bergen. it'll be out in august, and i have a fancy shmancy advance reading copy. it just looks cool. to the bookies anyway...

i've become so used to analysing novels on a technical level that i'm not even sure i know how to talk about how i feel about a book. but here goes...

charles boatman is first a father, and secondly a vietnam vet. it's sometimes painful to watch the story reveal what it is this man has done and how he finally admits to his family the truth of his time in the war. like so many vietnam vets, boatman has returned to the scene of the crime to find redemption or some kind of therapy to help him come to terms with what he's done. but, also like so many vets, he doesn't necessarily find what he's looking for. following their father's disappearance, two of the adult children go to vietnam to find out what has become of their father.

i'll admit that if i read the back cover while in search of a good read, this is not a book i would generally think of picking up (i have to be very lame for a moment and say that i'll try not to judge a book by it's cover from now on). however, i found it engaging, honest and intimate. bergen is a lovely writer. the novel sometimes feels like it was written in a feverish state. half dreaming half awake. anyone who has been to asia will know this surreal feeling that is captured so well here. at times, as the characters develop, david bergen's description of the boatman family relationships is uncomfortable, almost too intimate, too stifling and yet at the same time, this is a family whose members don't truly understand one another or themselves.

so there's my plug. i liked the novel. read it. bring on more free books!

Riddle me this...

i haven't blogged in what feels like ages. i usually try to write about something interesting and hopefully funny, but there just isn't anything special going on. if anything, i probably need a vacation. i will be going to my friend andrew's cottage this weekend, but i have to get to toronto first which is turning out to be more stressful than it should be. i hope i relax by the time i get there.

i just looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, and it reminded me of when i was in junior high school and all the girls would go to the bathroom, shut off the light and chant "bloody mary" in front of the mirror. you had to say it something like 43 times and a hand (which i always pictured as green and slimey) would come out. i always chickened out at 41. in any case, i feel like i look like bloody mary. my eyes are bloodshot and i'm so tired. i'm a total debbie downer.

i was thinking of the movie grease the other day because of my pink jacket. i have an old navy pink trench that always seems to get attention. it's not just pink, it's PINK. so i was thinking that i could be one of the pink ladies. and if i were a pink lady, which one would i be? i'd like to be rizzo, but i'd probably be frenchie. in any case, then i was thinking about how it would be nice if life were like the ending of grease, where everything sucks, but then if you just put on your shiny tight spandex pants and curl your hair, you can get the boy and fly away in a car to live happily ever after. sigh...

i'm off to watch the season finale of csi and mourn the loss of frank gorshin...

ah collectors...

today at work, i got to live out a dream. i got a call from someone who didn't identify himself asking for a number for an employee. because of the privacy act, i can't even verify if someone works for the company let alone give out their phone number or work location. and because he didn't identify himself, i knew he was a collector of some sort. when i asked who he was, he said his name was steve, and he worked for an investment company. i told him that i couldn't release any information, and he started getting very angry. he told me i was making a big deal out of nothing, and that he wasn't asking much, and he was raving and going on. i said that he'd have to take that up with the government, because i could lose my job if i released any info.

steve: you're so paranoid. i can't believe you people... (starts into another rant)
me: and you're a jackass. goodbye.

it was beautiful.

bookses

it feels like forever since i've written anything. i spent a lot of this week being very bored at work and surfing other blogs. this all started after i read an article about litblogs and the huge writing community online. it really makes me miss the days when i was more involved in that scene. which makes me want to read more, which makes me want to write, which makes me hate my job more than i do already. it's vicious i tell ya.

i recently read me talk pretty one day by david sedaris. sedaris has won a few humour awards, so i was getting ready to laugh it up. the book is in two parts: one and deux. one is a bit of a let down, mostly about his drug use and some of the strange little things that have happened in his life. deux is hilarious, about visiting france with his boyfriend and deciding after 6 years that he should learn more than the two french words he knows: "bottleneck" and "ashtray". eventually, he moves to france and the descriptions of his french classes are so funny i was crying.

i'm trying to find another book to read now while i wait for a few books i ordered to come in. i'm on a roll, and i can't stop! i've been reading a lot of contemporary stuff lately. if you have any suggestions, let me know.

i'm off for some coffee. hopefully the pee lady won't be there. the pee lady is a lady who frequents william's coffee pub and smells horrifically like stale pee. if it weren't so disgusting, it would be devastating. maybe i'll forego running that risk and go to starbuck's instead. so evil...

pocket shrapnel

i was walking past the speaker's corner machine in the public library downtown and i caught a glimpse of one of the questions that is supposed to "inspire" you to record your thoughts for the local tv station, the new pl.

what do you think of the proposed $5 coin?

now, while i enjoy coins as much as the next person, i see two glaring drawbacks to a $5 coin:

a. as with the $2 coin, the evil vending machine conglomerate will see this is as license to charge more for their goods and services. or perhaps, they will go japan-style and start selling more big-ticket items.

b. it will be more difficult to tip strippers. not that i tip strippers, but if i ever were to tip a stripper, i wouldn't want to tip a large amount. with a $5 coin, the lowest stripper tip would have to be a $10 bill. that, or strippers will have to start incorporating a coin toss into their acts. maybe they already have. it just doesn't seem convenient.

thank you fat lady

the weather is gorgeous. sunny, blue sky, 17 degrees. i was in a weird mood today and decided i wanted some sugar, so i had my friend drop me off at william's coffee pub, so i could get some cheesecake or something. when i got to the dessert counter, there was a fat woman with her fat husband and their soon-to-be fat daughter standing in front of me.

fat woman: oh, the pieces are big
fat man: that's great
fat child: (giggle)

and that cinched it. i walked out. i've never felt so repulsed by food before. i've become way more conscious about gaining weight lately, and i feel like i should just go with it. i know i'm not fat, but boy, the way i eat, i could be. i've been lucky, but that won't hold out forever. sigh.

on a (somewhat) lighter note, i saw sin city last night. it was so stylish and slick. and so sleazy film noir.

current book: the life and times of the wicked witch of the west by gregory maguire. very good. people have asked me if it's funny, and when i tell people about it, it sounds really funny, but within the context of the book, it's just a story about an unpopular girl growing up. ugly, but very smart and cynical.

toronto rock city

just got back from a weekend in toronto. it was great to get out of london if only for a few days. now i have to do some liver detox unfortunately. friday night i went to a wine bar called idoru (or idaho, depending on who you talk to). it's a very lovely little place on roncesvalles, with shockingly brave white couches. after some great sangria, we all headed back to andrew and meadow's to have more beer. this was a most unfortunate choice on my part. i ended up passing out around 1am.

the next day, had breakfast at a cute place called mitzi's. asked my good buddies to take me to ikea. got to ikea. asked my good buddies to take me home. too hungover to look at swedish furniture. picture my heart breaking. months of wanting to go to ikea, i go, and i wanna barf. sigh.

then saturday night, we went to the gladstone for karaoke. andrew wow'd 'em with "just a gigolo"; andrew and geoff did a great version of "rawhide"; and i did "calendar girl" by neil sedaka. the karaoke guy even sang harmony with me. it was hilarious. oh how i miss going to karaoke. i remember tuesday nights in osaka, going bowling and then to karaoke.

sunday morning went to a place called the beaver cafe: lots of pictures of the national animal, some gnawed wood and fantastic food. and nobody cracked a joke about the name. which kinda struck me odd, but maybe i was hanging out with grownups. it's known to happen.

walked around roncesvalles area, which has a large polish community. saw a beflowered statue of the pope. there were a lot of people wearing black and a few strange families taking pictures of their kids in the flowers.

seriously considering moving back to toronto to give it another shot. knowing people makes things easier. we shall see...

google me, google you

i decided to image google some friends of mine to see if there were any photos of them on the internet, and apparently i have some famous friends. on the other hand, i suck. when i googled me, there were a bunch of old black and white photos of families in full-length bathing suits and 1970s sears portrait shots of women in their 40s.

and in other news, my personal chef and one of my best friends has gone newf. dr. christopher james lockett is now a member of the memorial university of newfoundland crew. cod tongues and screech 4 life! i'm happy and a sulky baby at the same time. on the upside is a free place to stay in st. john's. on the downside is no more gourmet meals to look forward to. props to the mun man.

two dialogues that shouldn't happen (but did) at work

guy1: hi, i'd like to update some information on your system. the person who is listed as my daughter, is actually my common-law.
me: we'll fix that right up so you don't look like a ped.
guy1: ...

guy2: hi, i'd like to update some information on your system. i'm listed as female, but i'm not.
me: yeah, you sound pretty masculine. lucky for you we do free, quick and painless sex changes. you have nothing to worry about. it'll be over before you know it.
guy2: ...

note to self: shut mouth

clarissa minus 2. it's the new math and i'm getting it

the weekend has been quiet, though i had to call the neighbour this morning at 6:30 to turn down the happenin' tunes. all i could hear (through my earplugs) was thump thump thump thump. i was half asleep and i couldn't tell if it was my heart beating through a megaphone or if there were giant bunnies getting busy.

i had my eyebrows waxed for the first time yesterday. i didn't think i had enough eyebrow to worry about, but i thought i'd give it a shot anyway. it was quick and painless. but man, i wonder what my face looked like when she ripped off the cloth.

walking around in london, i always get some drunk guy or some punk trying to be a smart ass to get some kind of reaction out of me:

do you think red heads are sexy? (and then wink or wave or grab his crotch)
hey nice skirt
my pleasure
hello (i mean, please!)

if i'm asked a question or if someone says hi, i always respond, because, for whatever reason, i worry they'll get angry. more often than not this is fine, and sometimes they're even surprised. but last summer i was walking through victoria park and this drunk guy was hanging out with his drunk friends and waved at me and said "have a good day." i said thanks and waved. and then he stopped me, told me his name was two, showed me his cell phone to prove his name was two feathers and then continued to inform me of the following:

he needed a date for some event. he didn't know where to find a woman because...
he was from "america"
he asked me: why i colour my hair, was i busy saturday night, did i believe that his name was two

when i told him i had to go because my boyfriend was sick (which was actually true at the time), he told me i didn't have a boyfriend. that he could tell by my eyes that i was single. then he asked for my name (i said clarissa - it's my standard. drunk men can't pronounce it, get frustrated and forget about it), my phone number (i said, oh no i don't think so) and told me i had a beautiful smile. i think at that point i just started to walk off.

anyway, loooooong story slightly shortened, guess who i bump into on dundas street while on my lunch break last week? two! still drunk,

2: how you doin?
me: fine thanks (smiled)
2: i love your smile
me: that's great (walked off)

i'm learning, but very slowly.

current music: the decemberists, picaresque. i've listened to it about 7 times in a row, and i can't get it out of my head. very good stuff. they make songs about lords and ladies and barons listenable again.

crazy week for poor old me

my friends andrew and geoff came down from toronto this week, and hijinx ensued. monday night drank, played poker, drank some more. tuesday went to work late and hungover. blah. wednesday night ate cheese fondue and then chocolate fondue and drank at the barking frog, then moved to molly bloom's and drank some more. then andrew and i dropped our mad scientifix on the dance floor to stevie wonder's superstitious. what a great song. it was some good craic, but i'm ready for a quiet long weekend.

the phones are quiet at work today which is nice, but the day will drag on...on the upside the people calling in are great. one guy told me he hopes the easter bunny is good to me, and another woman called me sweetie over and over again. too cute. much better than someone yelling and threatening to sue.

current music: johnny cash, greatest hits (pretty cheesy website)

i've been reading too many mcsweeny's lists

while bored at work, top 10 words you can spell upside down on a calculator assigning the numbers as follows -- 1 = I, 3 = E, 4 = h, 5 = S, 7 = L, 8 = B, 9 = G, 0 = O -- and excluding plurals and the suffix -less:

shoe
boob
goes
goose
hose
shell
goo
hog
oil
blog