For whatever reason, I had a slight meltdown just over an hour ago. Maybe more of a defrosting, or a softening.
I was 1 1/2 hours into "Return of the King" at my sister's, after a lovely day of hanging out and a tasty dinner including pot roast, yams, carrots and brussel sprouts (still don't really like brussel sprouts), when all of a sudden I started feeling weird. Like the air was harder to breathe. At that moment I needed to know when the last train left so I'd know if I could watch the end of the film and still catch the train. I couldn't. This upset me more than is rational, and I got all sulky and pissy and decided right at that moment that I needed to go home. Understandably, my sister was baffled, even though I'm sure I've pulled crap like this before. I was just inconsolable.
Now I'm at home and have called my sister four times since leaving her. I feel basically fine. I just wish I knew what was going on so I could explain it. It's just so frustrating. It's like the Mean Reds: you're sad, but you don't know what you're sad about. Or was it you're scared? No, no, sad.
I've just no reason to be sad. I've had some extremely enjoyable nights out with friends the last week, including lots of good times visiting with Dulcie and Nels, and extra dessert with Rachel, Nathan and Gusty. All of this was good.
Maybe it's the holiday thing. I often find holidays unbearable, either because I can't get time off to be with my family or because I'm with my family. Really, I'm never happy. It might also be that I'm back on the chocolate after surviving 40 days without. Do addicts become mean or sad when they go back on stuff after detox? All I know is I'm feeling very raw and vulnerable. I dislike both feelings immensely.
On the upside, I still have two episodes of Nero Wolfe to finish, and I might as well finish them tonight. Then I can dream about Timothy Hutton.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
wasuremashita
I think I need to stop buying CDs.
Last week I decided to put together a J-pop CD for my friend (shhh, don't tell him) and scrounged through my collection for a few of the choice cuts I collected while I was there. One single that I really wanted was missing. I looked through all my CDs four times. I checked behind the stereo. I started to panic that I, somehow, hadn't listened to it since Japan (*unheard of!) and had maybe somehow left it when I moved back to Canada. Then I noticed that a few other CDs were missing.
My stomach twitched with anxiety. I started to think of who had been to my house (surprisingly, over the last three-and-a-half years, the number is low) and if any of them would snatch my sappy J-pop. That wasn't even a possibility. So... I started looking at Amazon Japan and concocted a plan to order new copies along with other J-titles for work. The pages were marked. I'd given up.
Then a couple days ago I looked at the CD holder I had when I was in Japan that I haven't used since because it sucks. I was just going to toss it in the charity pile, but decided I should check to make sure it was empty. And guess what I found.
Twenty-six CDs that I hadn't looked at for almost four years.
So, obviously, I don't need any more CDs and it just makes sense to stop buying them.
By the way, the single I was looking for is brilliant. "Sunny Day Sunday" by Sentimental Bus. If you ever see it in Hard Off (they have one in Vancouver now!!!), buy it.
*while in Japan, I would often take the Shinkansen into Tokyo on the weekend one-day cheap ticket for ladies ("onna no hito no ichi nichi ichiban yasui kippu, onegaishimasu," even though it had a real name; I couldn't ever remember it) and go to the Tower Records in Shinjuku. It was pretty easy to drop 20,000 yen (around $250 Cdn at that time) in less than an hour, pop over to Ameyoko near Ueno Station to buy shoes or watches, go to the Ueno Art Museum for an exhibit, drop into the British pub near Ueno Station for Happy Hour, and still get home before 8pm. I would also drive 2 hours to Takasaki for the less-impressive selection at the Tower Records there. And, of course, an hour in to Bunshindo in Numata for the latest J-pop singles. Which is why I came back with something dumb like 300 CDs.
Lately I miss Japan. Sugoku natsukashii.
Currently listening :
Hatsu
By Whiteberry
Release date: 06 October, 2000
Last week I decided to put together a J-pop CD for my friend (shhh, don't tell him) and scrounged through my collection for a few of the choice cuts I collected while I was there. One single that I really wanted was missing. I looked through all my CDs four times. I checked behind the stereo. I started to panic that I, somehow, hadn't listened to it since Japan (*unheard of!) and had maybe somehow left it when I moved back to Canada. Then I noticed that a few other CDs were missing.
My stomach twitched with anxiety. I started to think of who had been to my house (surprisingly, over the last three-and-a-half years, the number is low) and if any of them would snatch my sappy J-pop. That wasn't even a possibility. So... I started looking at Amazon Japan and concocted a plan to order new copies along with other J-titles for work. The pages were marked. I'd given up.
Then a couple days ago I looked at the CD holder I had when I was in Japan that I haven't used since because it sucks. I was just going to toss it in the charity pile, but decided I should check to make sure it was empty. And guess what I found.
Twenty-six CDs that I hadn't looked at for almost four years.
So, obviously, I don't need any more CDs and it just makes sense to stop buying them.
By the way, the single I was looking for is brilliant. "Sunny Day Sunday" by Sentimental Bus. If you ever see it in Hard Off (they have one in Vancouver now!!!), buy it.
*while in Japan, I would often take the Shinkansen into Tokyo on the weekend one-day cheap ticket for ladies ("onna no hito no ichi nichi ichiban yasui kippu, onegaishimasu," even though it had a real name; I couldn't ever remember it) and go to the Tower Records in Shinjuku. It was pretty easy to drop 20,000 yen (around $250 Cdn at that time) in less than an hour, pop over to Ameyoko near Ueno Station to buy shoes or watches, go to the Ueno Art Museum for an exhibit, drop into the British pub near Ueno Station for Happy Hour, and still get home before 8pm. I would also drive 2 hours to Takasaki for the less-impressive selection at the Tower Records there. And, of course, an hour in to Bunshindo in Numata for the latest J-pop singles. Which is why I came back with something dumb like 300 CDs.
Lately I miss Japan. Sugoku natsukashii.
Currently listening :
Hatsu
By Whiteberry
Release date: 06 October, 2000
Saturday, May 13, 2006
boxed in
So I'm in the midst of packing my life into cardboard boxes, trying to figure out if parts are unimportant enough to get rid of. So far the bathroom is, more or less, weeded and boxed. The kitchen is probably between 1/4 and 1/3 done. My fridge magnet collection is bagged. I even took the time to pull down the latest spider web behind the stove that I usually just leave because that fricking spider (it's about the size of a generous coffee mug) spins another one as soon as I leave the room. In my bedroom, most of my clothes are sorted, some discarded, and the rest are in holding containers; my dresser is empty except for my remaining t-shirt collection, which looks sad and lacking. My cameras, almost all of them, are packed. This sounds like progress, doesn't it?
It isn't.
The living room is the bane of my existence. Music-related mediums are dealt with and I don't feel any great concern about that, except maybe needing another hard container for the excess CDs that don't fit in the ones I have (you know, I talked about this already). The real problem, the problem every time I move, the problem that I think my family really means to address when they tell me to get rid of stuff, is the rows of books and stacks of magazines that I refuse to deal with.
I like books. I like owning books. I like referring back to books I own. Sometimes I just like to look at the spines of the acquisitions in my mini library. The thought of getting rid of any of them, even the ones that aren't my favourites, makes me sick in the same way people get sick when thinking of putting their pet down. "Well, that's just crazy," I hear you say. "They aren't alive! They're just books!" If only that were true.
Maybe it's the whole "it's not what you are like; it's what you like" thing. (I feel like I revisit this a lot.) I don't want to misrepresent myself by ridding my collection of "The Big Book of Sumo" or "John Hall and His Patients: The Medical Practice of Shakespeare's Son-in-Law" because I was obsessed with sumo for years AND have an ongoing interest in medical procedures pre-Florence Nightingale. I might not read them very often, but I still want them. You see my problem.
It's the same with magazines. I barely buy magazines, so the two I get regularly are ones I really want and always contain DIY projects I have made and would like to make again, or things I may try when rainy days and Mondays get me down. Or when I want to pack in packing.
I'm starting to get that crippling feeling of not wanting to do anything but sit on the futon and sleep. Even the Deluxe Nancy Pearl Librarian Action Figure shrine atop the bookshelf isn't helping me along. Nancy Pearl (Seattle Public Library librarian, FYI, and a frumpy dresser to perpetuate the horrible, inaccurate librarian stereotype) seems to be whispering, "You look tired. Just have a frozen yogurt bar and relax. The packing elves will do it." And I'm so close to believing her despite her shapeless, ankle-length skirt telling me she doesn't know what she's talking about.
I'm aiming to put the entire top shelf into boxes right now; it's my foreign language/cookbook shelf. Wish me luck.
As an aside: you know who has a charmed life? Andy Greenwald, author of "Miss Misery." Seriously. Go read his latest blog: http://www.myspace.com/andygreenwald. It will make you MENTAL with envy.
Currently listening :
15 Angry Men
By Hideki Kaji
Release date: 20 July, 1999
It isn't.
The living room is the bane of my existence. Music-related mediums are dealt with and I don't feel any great concern about that, except maybe needing another hard container for the excess CDs that don't fit in the ones I have (you know, I talked about this already). The real problem, the problem every time I move, the problem that I think my family really means to address when they tell me to get rid of stuff, is the rows of books and stacks of magazines that I refuse to deal with.
I like books. I like owning books. I like referring back to books I own. Sometimes I just like to look at the spines of the acquisitions in my mini library. The thought of getting rid of any of them, even the ones that aren't my favourites, makes me sick in the same way people get sick when thinking of putting their pet down. "Well, that's just crazy," I hear you say. "They aren't alive! They're just books!" If only that were true.
Maybe it's the whole "it's not what you are like; it's what you like" thing. (I feel like I revisit this a lot.) I don't want to misrepresent myself by ridding my collection of "The Big Book of Sumo" or "John Hall and His Patients: The Medical Practice of Shakespeare's Son-in-Law" because I was obsessed with sumo for years AND have an ongoing interest in medical procedures pre-Florence Nightingale. I might not read them very often, but I still want them. You see my problem.
It's the same with magazines. I barely buy magazines, so the two I get regularly are ones I really want and always contain DIY projects I have made and would like to make again, or things I may try when rainy days and Mondays get me down. Or when I want to pack in packing.
I'm starting to get that crippling feeling of not wanting to do anything but sit on the futon and sleep. Even the Deluxe Nancy Pearl Librarian Action Figure shrine atop the bookshelf isn't helping me along. Nancy Pearl (Seattle Public Library librarian, FYI, and a frumpy dresser to perpetuate the horrible, inaccurate librarian stereotype) seems to be whispering, "You look tired. Just have a frozen yogurt bar and relax. The packing elves will do it." And I'm so close to believing her despite her shapeless, ankle-length skirt telling me she doesn't know what she's talking about.
I'm aiming to put the entire top shelf into boxes right now; it's my foreign language/cookbook shelf. Wish me luck.
As an aside: you know who has a charmed life? Andy Greenwald, author of "Miss Misery." Seriously. Go read his latest blog: http://www.myspace.com/andygreenwald. It will make you MENTAL with envy.
Currently listening :
15 Angry Men
By Hideki Kaji
Release date: 20 July, 1999
calling the kettle black
In regards to demonstrations during the seal hunt in Labrador and Quebec; guess which side said this:
"What has happened out here has crossed a line," Aldworth said. "Of course they have a right to protest, and I respect that.
"But when you put human lives at risk and prevent people from engaging in lawful activities, you've crossed the line into assault and reckless endangerment.
"That is not legal in this country and this is still Canada," she said.
Think you know?
You're probably wrong. It's anti-seal hunt people complaining about pro-seal hunt demonstrators preventing helicopters from the US Humane Society from flying over hunting grounds. I find this HILARIOUS. Read more at: http://www.cbc.ca/story/canada/national/2006/04/13/hunt-blanc-sablon.html
Did you know that touching baby seals is illegal? Since Heather McCartney was filmed petting a baby harp seal (the cute, fluffy white ones), I'll be expecting charges laid any second now.
Currently reading :
Julie and Julia : 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen
By Julie Powell
Release date: 28 September, 2005
"What has happened out here has crossed a line," Aldworth said. "Of course they have a right to protest, and I respect that.
"But when you put human lives at risk and prevent people from engaging in lawful activities, you've crossed the line into assault and reckless endangerment.
"That is not legal in this country and this is still Canada," she said.
Think you know?
You're probably wrong. It's anti-seal hunt people complaining about pro-seal hunt demonstrators preventing helicopters from the US Humane Society from flying over hunting grounds. I find this HILARIOUS. Read more at: http://www.cbc.ca/story/canada/national/2006/04/13/hunt-blanc-sablon.html
Did you know that touching baby seals is illegal? Since Heather McCartney was filmed petting a baby harp seal (the cute, fluffy white ones), I'll be expecting charges laid any second now.
Currently reading :
Julie and Julia : 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen
By Julie Powell
Release date: 28 September, 2005
Friday, May 12, 2006
thong, thong, thong, thong, thong, thong
Current mood: judge + mental
A few days ago during lunch, my friend and I sat on the steps outside work and ate. It was lovely; the weather was sunny and it was more or less warm. There might have even been some guy playing guitar behind us (though this wasn't really that great. It was sort of annoying because it was hard to talk with him there, and if he just wanted to spread love or make people happy he failed miserably with me. Cat Stevens songs don't make me happy). Anyway, I was enjoying my lunch and enjoying the weather and chatting with my friend and it was all good. Until my friend had to point out something disturbing.
To my right, around the 4 o'clock direction, there was a girl wearing a thong.
I am opposed to thongs on many levels, but this one was particularly bad because she was wearing lightish pants with a dark thong. And I know this because the pants were low-slung and the thong was halfway up her back. And it puckered her skin so it looked like she had cellulite everywhere below the thong, which I'm sure wasn't really the case when she wasn't wearing the thong but was in this instance. It looked like someone gave her a really severe wedgie. REALLY severe.
Now, I know fashion experts swear by thongs for giving pantylineless smooth bums and all that, and I'm sure to some people it is the most important decision they'll make all year, but I cannot get behind thongs. Seeing the top elastic part of thongs is not better than seeing pantylines. And when people say that thongs are soooo comfortable they obviously haven't tried very hard to find well-fitted panties. A piece of string rubbing in your asscrack doesn't sound comfortable. "Oh, but it is," says the haltertop. Right. Having tried one, I will never believe it. Brainwashing techniques will not convince me otherwise.
I only mention it because I know I wield immense power in the fashion world.
I used to work with a girl who exclusively wore thongs. She admitted this out loud. Shortly after this admission, she had some sort of mental breakdown and stopped talking and was finally forced to quit her job because you sort of have to talk in customer service and her sister may have gotten her some professional help. The moral of this story is that thongs fuck with your chemical balance.
And we're coming into the season when everyone is going to want to start showing how sexy they are by showing off that they're wearing thongs. I thought the whole point of wearing them was to NOT see underpanties.
On the flip, flip flops (aka thongs) are OK.
Currently listening :
Last Secrets
By Like Young
Release date: 09 May, 2006
A few days ago during lunch, my friend and I sat on the steps outside work and ate. It was lovely; the weather was sunny and it was more or less warm. There might have even been some guy playing guitar behind us (though this wasn't really that great. It was sort of annoying because it was hard to talk with him there, and if he just wanted to spread love or make people happy he failed miserably with me. Cat Stevens songs don't make me happy). Anyway, I was enjoying my lunch and enjoying the weather and chatting with my friend and it was all good. Until my friend had to point out something disturbing.
To my right, around the 4 o'clock direction, there was a girl wearing a thong.
I am opposed to thongs on many levels, but this one was particularly bad because she was wearing lightish pants with a dark thong. And I know this because the pants were low-slung and the thong was halfway up her back. And it puckered her skin so it looked like she had cellulite everywhere below the thong, which I'm sure wasn't really the case when she wasn't wearing the thong but was in this instance. It looked like someone gave her a really severe wedgie. REALLY severe.
Now, I know fashion experts swear by thongs for giving pantylineless smooth bums and all that, and I'm sure to some people it is the most important decision they'll make all year, but I cannot get behind thongs. Seeing the top elastic part of thongs is not better than seeing pantylines. And when people say that thongs are soooo comfortable they obviously haven't tried very hard to find well-fitted panties. A piece of string rubbing in your asscrack doesn't sound comfortable. "Oh, but it is," says the haltertop. Right. Having tried one, I will never believe it. Brainwashing techniques will not convince me otherwise.
I only mention it because I know I wield immense power in the fashion world.
I used to work with a girl who exclusively wore thongs. She admitted this out loud. Shortly after this admission, she had some sort of mental breakdown and stopped talking and was finally forced to quit her job because you sort of have to talk in customer service and her sister may have gotten her some professional help. The moral of this story is that thongs fuck with your chemical balance.
And we're coming into the season when everyone is going to want to start showing how sexy they are by showing off that they're wearing thongs. I thought the whole point of wearing them was to NOT see underpanties.
On the flip, flip flops (aka thongs) are OK.
Currently listening :
Last Secrets
By Like Young
Release date: 09 May, 2006
Sunday, May 7, 2006
arrr!
I've been trying to read all of "Pirattitude!" but have been having a hard time getting through some of the wordier stuff. I like summaries, but they like to write more than summaries. Their lists of pirattitudey things are pretty hilarious, so that's what's keeping me into the book.
Initially I was curious about it based on the name alone. I mean, who doesn't want to be a pirate? They get to drink a lot of booze on the job and wear loads of rings and wear shiny pants. And, in the case of "Pirates of Penzance", they get to dance and sing.
You want to know some things/people that/who have pirattitude? George Foreman grills, Aunt Jemima, duct tape, Tonya Harding and cirrhosis of the liver. My Piradiac sign is Bone Saw and I was born in the Year of the Pufferfish (don't fuck with the pufferfish).
I feel myself becoming more piratey by the minute. Soon I will be pillaging like it was 1699.
The only forseeable problem is the ship. Even if I manage to find a ship to sail on, I'd still have to sail on it in open water. I took a ferry from Tokyo to Okinawa for Christmas one year and swore I'd never take a ferry again. I was on the boat for 2 1/2 days each way and the weather was BAD. Like, the boat tipped so much that all I saw was either a window full of sky or a window full of water. Eek.
Thankfully, Talk Like A Pirate Day is only once a year (September 19th) and I have a few months to ready myself for it.
Currently reading :
Pirattitude!: So you Wannna Be a Pirate? : Here's How!
By John Baur
Release date: 06 September, 2005
Initially I was curious about it based on the name alone. I mean, who doesn't want to be a pirate? They get to drink a lot of booze on the job and wear loads of rings and wear shiny pants. And, in the case of "Pirates of Penzance", they get to dance and sing.
You want to know some things/people that/who have pirattitude? George Foreman grills, Aunt Jemima, duct tape, Tonya Harding and cirrhosis of the liver. My Piradiac sign is Bone Saw and I was born in the Year of the Pufferfish (don't fuck with the pufferfish).
I feel myself becoming more piratey by the minute. Soon I will be pillaging like it was 1699.
The only forseeable problem is the ship. Even if I manage to find a ship to sail on, I'd still have to sail on it in open water. I took a ferry from Tokyo to Okinawa for Christmas one year and swore I'd never take a ferry again. I was on the boat for 2 1/2 days each way and the weather was BAD. Like, the boat tipped so much that all I saw was either a window full of sky or a window full of water. Eek.
Thankfully, Talk Like A Pirate Day is only once a year (September 19th) and I have a few months to ready myself for it.
Currently reading :
Pirattitude!: So you Wannna Be a Pirate? : Here's How!
By John Baur
Release date: 06 September, 2005
crybaby
Last night I watched "The Truth About Cats and Dogs" because it was on and I like background noise when I'm doing stuff. The thing is I completely ditched what I was going to do and just watched the whole thing, start to finish. For whatever reason I like that movie a lot. Probably because it's a fairytale or something. It makes me cry.
Like, how often does that happen, falling in love with someone over the phone? Or from listening to them on a radio? When I had a radio show (sure, fine, it was only campus/community radio, but still) I only had calls from people that sounded scary, like they wanted to eat my brain or wanted my skin for a new coat. One guy informed me he loved my voice while beating off (short call, obviously). But never did an attractive man want to date me just from hearing me talk. Granted, I'm no Jeannine Garofalo.
In reality, a lot of the people I know from radio are actually attractive. The old adage about having a face for radio isn't relevant in most cases I've seen. Except for the one guy who had a bit of a white man afro, but he managed to get married with it, so someone thought he was attractive. And me, apparently.
I guess I'm unconvinced that Jeannine Garofalo was ugly, even compared to Uma Thurman. Like, Uma Thurman just looks weird sometimes and she didn't show her teeth in that movie. It's unnatural to smile without teeth at least some of the time. Watching the part when Abby/Donna leaves the guy's apartment and then sits outside to cry is the same feeling I get when watching "Some Kind of Wonderful," when Watts walks away crying so Keith and Amanda Jones can be alone. I always get the hopeful feeling that the guy won't be an ass and will realise she's the one he wants, not the pretty one. Even though all movies end like that anyway, with the ugly girl getting the boy. Are there any when it doesn't?
OK, I get too involved in movies. I'm a sucker. This is why I shouldn't watch romcoms.
Currently listening :
Aim Right for the Holes in Their Lives
By Novillero
Release date: 07 June, 2005
Like, how often does that happen, falling in love with someone over the phone? Or from listening to them on a radio? When I had a radio show (sure, fine, it was only campus/community radio, but still) I only had calls from people that sounded scary, like they wanted to eat my brain or wanted my skin for a new coat. One guy informed me he loved my voice while beating off (short call, obviously). But never did an attractive man want to date me just from hearing me talk. Granted, I'm no Jeannine Garofalo.
In reality, a lot of the people I know from radio are actually attractive. The old adage about having a face for radio isn't relevant in most cases I've seen. Except for the one guy who had a bit of a white man afro, but he managed to get married with it, so someone thought he was attractive. And me, apparently.
I guess I'm unconvinced that Jeannine Garofalo was ugly, even compared to Uma Thurman. Like, Uma Thurman just looks weird sometimes and she didn't show her teeth in that movie. It's unnatural to smile without teeth at least some of the time. Watching the part when Abby/Donna leaves the guy's apartment and then sits outside to cry is the same feeling I get when watching "Some Kind of Wonderful," when Watts walks away crying so Keith and Amanda Jones can be alone. I always get the hopeful feeling that the guy won't be an ass and will realise she's the one he wants, not the pretty one. Even though all movies end like that anyway, with the ugly girl getting the boy. Are there any when it doesn't?
OK, I get too involved in movies. I'm a sucker. This is why I shouldn't watch romcoms.
Currently listening :
Aim Right for the Holes in Their Lives
By Novillero
Release date: 07 June, 2005
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