Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Today I made a gingerbread house. Unlike many kits, this house was actually already assembled, it just cried out to be decorated with icing and gumdrops. So I "decorated" it. Now, for those of you who have made a gingerbread house before, you know that the icing is NEVER right. It's always too runny and none of the decorations will stay on the house. Also, it's too sticky to make cute little designs with and that icing bag thing is beyond the explanation of physics. You might try putting the icing in the fridge or freezer for awhile, but it really doesn't help much, because it still can't be used until it gets too soft again. Therefore, I made a gingerbread mess today.
Saturday, December 18, 2004
"He could not stay off the phone although he knelt hand under knee."
Ah, The Inbreds' "It's Sydney Or The Bush" has finally come back to me. I declare it to be the defining album of my first "college" year. It instantly brings back a visual of myself in a long black trenchcoat, standing on the spot where Cogswell meets North Park meets Rainnie meets Ahern meets Trollope, waiting at a light in the middle of winter on my way to NSCAD to spend countless hours in a darkroom printing photos that were not quite crappy (a.k.a. artsy fartsy) enough to fit in with my classmates. Good times. Mostly. At least The Inbreds were there to make the walk seem not quite so bad. Mike O'Neill, how I love thee and thine wonderful lyrics. "What else can I tell you... about my childhood, was real nice."
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Mmm... Vanilla and Pine, together at last.
I got this Christmas tree ornament a few days ago because Hello Kitty reminds me of my childhood (although I was really into My Melody and still am.) and it was 40% off. Then I got it home and I noticed the ornament is called "Ice Cream for Christmas" (which is actually what I'll be eating for Christmas dinner) and that it is scented. "Scented?" I thought. I was intrigued. I opened the box and it indeed was scented. Like vanilla. Which made me think, why the hell is a Christmas ornament scented? What could be the purpose? Once it's on the tree you can't smell it unless you specifically walk up to the tree and cram your face into the branches to smell it. Also, if the tree is real, then the vanilla scent is mixing with the pine scent, and is that really necessary? What if you had several scented ornaments and they all combined in a non-Fabreeze-like fashion, reeking to high heavens? It just makes no sense (scents. get it? awful). It's seems like an unnecessary step in the manufacturing process, adding time and money. It's like having scented picture frames or a scented hood ornament.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Maybe he should've Mastered in not weirding me out.
So last night I decide to go see "Sideways" with Pizza Diarist. I for once was early so decided to wander around the mall waiting for him. Now, it's Sunday in Nova Scotia, therefore (sigh) all the stores in the mall are actually closed and the only people in there are there to go to the theatre. Except for one dude that's apparently there to ask and weird me out. I saw him earlier in Shoppers Drug Mart and smiled because I was in his way and didn't realize it. Maybe that was the downfall. Me being polite. I'm not positive he actually followed me from Shoppers to the mall, but it also wouldn't surprise me. Once he started talking to me, I, not being much for talking to strangers out of nowhere and for no reason, immediately took the stance as depicted here:
(Only probably not so angry looking.) I feel confident any expert in body language (or any one at all for that matter) would tell you this is a farily unwelcoming stance. It doesn't really scream "Procede with your life story." Which is pretty much what happened. I was told I was a good listener, which I thought was funny because I only seemed like a good listener because I was avoiding talking as much as possilbe and constantly thinking "Hurry up Pizza Diarist!" After telling me where he was from and what he was doing in school and for work and what days he was going home for Christmas and who his roomate was and so on, eventually this dude got to the "Are you seeing anyone?" part of his speech and I, not being quick with the lie (damn my honest upbringing!) said "No", to which he replied "Why not?" Why not? I never understood why someone ever asks "Why aren't you seeing anyone" in that kind of situation. If you can't come up with a good enough reason, do you have to go out with the questioner by default? After I dodged that, he finally started to wind down, eventually inviting me to look for him after the movie if I wasn't too tired. It seemed like in regular life he was probably a nice enough guy, like, as a co-worker or something. But is this really how people are meeting these days? Approaching each other randomly in closed shopping malls and hoping "Maybe this will be the one" or at least "Maybe this one will come home with me tonight". Maybe it is! Maybe this is why myself and so many of my friends remain single. Because we refuse to give in to a society that forces us to date whoever approaches us in malls or at bus stops.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
Today I looked like a longshoreman. Black "Relic" hat, black pea coat, black pants that flared out a bit and black boots. Except the boots had heels, because it's apparently impossible to buy women's boots without heels. Since my bookbag was filled with stuff, I was even hunched over like an old longshoreman. If only I had a cigarette. And gonorrhea.
Thursday, December 09, 2004
Today I put up my Christmas tree and decorated my apartment for the holiday season. It made me very sleepy so I spent the rest of the night on my new amazing comfortable couch. My tree looks very happy with all it's colourful ornaments, my Calvin and Hobbes tree skirt and two toy hippos sitting under it. No presents yet. Happy Birthday Dad!
Monday, December 06, 2004
Oh Budge, how could you?
I've been finding weird inscriptions lately. This time it was in a book I got in my laundry room. We have a "Give and Take" Section, where you can leave books, dishes, clothes, what-have-you, that you no longer want and if someone else in the building wants it, they can take it. So I took this book called "The Leaving", a collection of short stories by Budge Wilson. Above is the inscription. The best part is that the inscription is actually from the author. What could she have done that made her feel bad enough to give a copy of her own book to someone? And did that person forgive her, or is that why the book is now in my possession? At exactly 5 p.m.? What happens then? Was it a lover's quarrel over missing their daily viewing of "Live At Five"?