So nice thing = Moka House patio large coffee but bad thing = reading true crime and it being dark and menacing on Cook St. Why was I reading that? Why do I read anything? Because I read. Which doesn't fit into the Holy Trinity of Living which consists of thinkspeakact. Nowhere. Unless I possibly shouted aloud as I read, which I haven't done since age 11 fight-with-Mum reading Raymond's Run at the top of my lungs until my tongue was sore. Fuck, too much coffee.
Listening to: Ray Charles
Wearing: a rainbow poncho and jeans
Had a big family dinner thingy with Matt's extended family last night: very cool. Wine, salmon, rice and lentil salad, roasted vegetables, various Scandinavian delicacies. Discussions on ghosts, psychic experiences, ugly women in bars paired with a deplorable bet, Montreal. A taxi home because all of the designated drivers accidentily got drunk. I had a grand time.
Floyd's this morning with Matt and John; drinks on Friday night with the Kids. Would like to do something quiet tonight. Possibly the Shirley MacLaine mini-series Out on a Limb -- I believe Pik-a-Flik has it. But who would watch it with me? Matt has expressed a violent aversion.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I hate Bob Dylan. Damnable shuffle feature on I-Tunes. Hang on. I'll change it.
Ah! Roberta Flack. Much better.
One of Matt's aunts told me I should get a job with CBC. Hurrah!
Reading Conversations With God Book 2, Naked by Dave Sedaris, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, and an Ann Rule collection ...
Check out the eagle nest. It's very addictive. Better than the weather channel.
| You Are 18% American |
 Otherwise known as un-American! You belong in Cairo or Paris... Get out fast - before you end up in Gitmo! |
- So, I kind of got the promotion at Work. Or rather, someone more experienced than me got it full-time, and I get to do it on the weekends. With a pay raise. It is a management position, and concern has been expressed over my ability (or inability) to be agressive and assertive. I think I am the first person in THE WHOLE WORLD to say, "So you're saying, I need to release my Inner Bitch?" during an interview. :)
- A client at work told me a long and quite fascinating story about finding the Perfect Purse, which I had complimented her on. I responded, "So you were able to create the reality you sought by simply envisioning it." A startled look. All the, what, the quantum physic-cky parapsychological-y stuff I've been reading and absorbing lately seems to be bleeding into my physical world. Good thing? Yeah, why not.
- I have an Important Package to pick up at the post office tomorrow!
- Tonight: I invited some people over for drinks and movies, so that might happen, though I haven't checked my messages since I got home from work and don't know if they will contain acceptances or rejections. Or indeed: Anything at all. So if that doesn't work out, I think the Ocean would be good ...
- I burned my wrist on the Coffee Pot of Doom, which was later smashed (the CP of D) and put in a dumpster. I have white bandages.
Tom Waits has claimed on several occasions to be a member of the secret society, "The Sons of Lee Marvin", a group founded by Jim Jarmusch in which all members bear a physical resemblance to actor Lee Marvin. (- wikipedia)
(snagged from Elisa's blog and our answers are so similar it's downright odd)
1. When is the last time you were broke?
Uh, the last time I made a monthly student loan payment, which was three months ago.
2. What makes you lose focus?
A very messy house. I either ditch what I was going to do and clean up, or wander about depressed and smoking cigarettes and wishing I was doing that thing I was supposed to be doing.
3. How tall are you?
Five feet, two inches. I've grown 3/4 of an inch since moving to Victoria seven years ago.
4. Are you brave or cowardly?
Depends on the situation. Meeting strangers usually fills me with so much dread I am completely silent. Unless I'm drunk. But I have no problem going to restaurants alone, or confronting people who work at banks, or holding an opinion so unpopular it's almost stupid.
5. What's in your pocket?
Nothing. I hate bulky pockets. I have a handbag. In my handbag: keys, wallet, cigarettes, notebook, pen, hundreds of receipts and little bits of paper, Vitamin C halls, a hair tie, some postcards, some memos from Work.
1) Matt vomited, threw up in the night, was in pain and misery. Could it have been our magical quiche? That we were so proud of? Or maybe the flu.
2) I have an interview on Thursday for a higher position at Work.
3) What's everybody's thoughts on Jane Rule? Does she rule? I'm reading her for the first time. Does this merit Serious Coffee?
4) Organic raspberry and vanilla yogurt. With chopped up pineapple.
5) I smell like green tea. I have green tea skin moisturizer.
6) I might scatter wildflower seeds about the front lawn. There's been a set-back, though. A bag of seeds in my hand. A helpful saleman. Me: "Can I just scatter these about the front lawn? Will they grow? Or must I cover them with dirt?" Him: "You must cover them with dirt, of course." I am so very misunderstood.
1) Matt and I made quiche! Spinach and mushroom quiche. It actually worked out, which stunned us both.
2) Yesterday I felt the Fear, walked to Moka House to clear my head, wrote four poems on the patio, typed them up at the library, sent them to Prairie Fire.
3) I wonder how many more times in my life I will watch Cannibal: The Musical?
We're going to a Cannibal: The Musical! potluck at Morgan's house in a couple of hours and have been asked to bring a 'weird snack.' The only cannibal-themed snack I could think of was sushi with eyes glued to it, but people might choke on the eyes, so I think I'll just bring chips and dip and tell my leprosy joke right before people start eating.
It's gusting today, it gusts, when I walked home from Old Time Deli I was nearly knocked down while crossing intersections. In the mood to steal: want to steal an umbrella to shield forehead from rain; want to steal mickey of gin as can't afford to purchase one till Friday; want to steal hopes and dreams and claim them as my own. Want to write alldayeveryday, a million words. Want to lie on my stomach in a pick-up truck and be driven around Canada as I document it in green-ink scribbles. Obsessed with green ink. Want something to show for it; want fame and prestige so that I can turn around and reject fame and prestige. This indicates severe spiritual un-enlightenment.
It continues to gust outside; tires squeal occasionally. I never want to be arrogant. There's nothing worse than an arrogant writer. Or if must be arrogant, also desire highly, highly developed sense of humour.
There's a blue bottle and spider plants and avocado-coloured walls and it's beautiful but same-time so concrete and static. I wish that living room walls were organic and had to be watered in order to grow. I wish I could funnel my ramblings into structure and actually emerge with a story, or a poem that's worth something more than a grin: perhaps this is an unnatural desire? Desire to box things up ever-so-neatly synonymous with psycopathic control issues? But then by definition anyone who writes is insane. Even those who only write shopping lists. CONTAIN THE APRICOT JAM!
1. Which movie character is most like you?
Enid, Thora Birch's character in Ghost World. Witty cynicism designed to mask a sense of desperate insecurity and paranoia. :) Only on Tuesdays.
2. Which TV character is most like you?
My personality is a little bit like Seinfeld's George, but only at its worst. Leela from Futurama, for being competent but kind of nerdy. Clare from Six Feet Under, as her combination of disgust and hope strikes a chord ...
3. Which literary character is most like you?
Charis, from Margaret Atwood's The Robber Bride! She lives on an island and knows how crystals work and grinds coffee beans by hand.
4. Which song describes you?
"Here Comes the Sun," Nina Simone.
5. Which animal is most like you?
Dogs. Husky dogs. For being either incredibly happy or incredibly sad. For liking to cuddle and eat interesting things.
- world fastest moterbike X2
- shots for breakfast X2
- "the adventures of natty gan"
- V for vendetta breakfast
- family guy, beer factory song
- family guy beer factory
- giraffe postcard easter
- joy
- edgar cayce vertigo
- DOING SHOTS
- Arianna Stassinopoulos Huffington
- Last Love In Constantinople download
- 3A
- weird cum shots
- CUM SHOTS CONTEST
- eat cum for breakfast
- brutal cum shots
Cat Fight got rejected after just two months.
Oh well.
It's not one I had high hopes for.
But: there were hopes.
In other news: saw John Waters' Pecker yesterday. Good flick. It wasn't obscene. For some reason I thought it would be obscene. The 'pecker' refers to a guy thus nicknamed because as a child he would peck at his food.
Tonight a co-worker is cutting my hair.
So, I did go to the health food store yesterday, and also to Moka House, to write. Then I sat in a middle-school playing field to finish reading my Shirley MacLaine book.
And I'm going to head out again in a couple minutes, I think.
Reading a fascinating book: Conversations with God, by Neale Donald Walsch. I'm exercising skepticism at the moment, but feel right about what the guy's saying. Also, I've googled it tons and any time right-wing fundamentalist Christians react to something that is at worst harmless with profound hate and paranoia, flinging about qualifiers like "demonic" et al I tend to be more sympathetic. More deconstruction when I've finished reading.
Quite some time ago Ben and I were talking about balance in our lives and how we wished we were more adept at allotting equal energy to alone-time, writing-time, boyfriend-time, friends-time, and work-time. It's far more difficult than a basic urge for happiness and fulfillment would fool you into thinking. I've realized since my folks left that I find it incredibly easy to work all day and then go home to spend the evening in a solitary pursuit such as reading or films. I think we all know where this is going. ARTS COMMUNE TIME!
Heh ....
Reminds me of my brother Jeordyn's "bad dog," Bear, who terrorizes other animals and any humans he doesn't like. Except ....... for sheep. He's very, very scared of sheep. My theory is that the low, kind of aggressive way they say "Baaaaaa" sounds a bit like "Beeeeear," and he's starting to wonder why ALL SHEEP, EVERYWHERE, know his name but nobody else's.
I saw two interesting stories on the news last night, both about sentencing in murder trials.
The first was an "accidental" murder: a female drunk driver struck and killed a famous race car driver. She was sentenced to 2 years in prison, which I believe she had already served while the trial was ongoing. There were reactions: the drunk driver's mother spoke movingly of how difficult the process had been for both their family and the victim's family, and now perhaps there could be closure, and the drunk driver could focus on getting her life back together. The family of the victim were incredibly gracious: they seemed to hold no anger, said the sentencing had been fair, that they hoped everyone could move on. It was so sad but everyone seemed to have grown so much.
The second murder was "less accidental" in a way, though still involved alcohol: a teenaged boy got drunk, stole a car, and then tried to flee a gas station with free gas. The attendant tried to stop him, and wound up being dragged under the stolen car for several kilometres before he died. In this case, the perpetrator had just been convicted, and not sentenced -- the prosecution was asking for 8 years. And the family of the victim was so angry, understandably so. They said things like, "Eight years is not enough. No time could ever be enough." They wanted, very badly, for the person who murdered their son to be punished, and all the punishment in the world would still not be enough to stop their pain.
The cases are so different. Personally, I feel it would be much easier to forgive someone who killed a loved one by accident than one who could have prevented the killing, but chose not to. The depth of pain on all sides is something I can't imagine, and hope I never have to. But it made me think about the nature of crime and punishment. It's true that no amount of punishment can ever heal a loved one's pain. Even the death penalty, the complete erasing of the person who hurt you, would not heal your pain. So it seems to me the "punishment" should focus on prevention, on an assurance that the crime will not be repeated. I don't know that eight years in prison would assure this. In many cases it might make a person more dangerous, more unhappy, certainly more depressed and therefore more likely to hurt people when they have completed their sentence.
Why punish someone at all if it won't change the past and won't change the future? Jail seems like a tool of revenge. What exactly is a "debt to society" and why is it so necessary? I think it would be interesting if the courts focussed on what made this young man so insensitive as to drive his car with a person dying underneath, and what tools would be necessary to heal him.
But what if he doesn't want to heal? What if they said, "Your sentence is to go to in-patient therapy until you feel remorse, even if it takes years, and if that never happens then you'll stay behind bars your whole life." That still wouldn't fix the problem. No one would have learned anything.
So I guess I don't know the answer.
Except, if there was a way for everybody who was healthy, everybody who has compassion and would never harm another person intentionally, to focus their positive energy on people who are negative -- if as communities and nations we made it our top priority to create spiritual harmony -- perhaps a kind of collective consciousness healing would occur. The top priority for any official gathering of human beings (a town, a province, even families) is to make money. No matter what. What if it was to make health?
Feeling kind of dizzy-like and feverish, but by spells only. Have been reading Shirley MacLaine almost constantly since am. Haven't left my house although it is day off. Might walk down Cook St. to health food store for St. John's Wort and Emergen-C, and java at Moka House. But might stay on couch. Cocoon of blankets and pillow with famous yellow pillow-case rightfully owned by Jess, or maybe Brigit. Will keep pillow-case my whole life, even if it results in damaged friendships. Same goes for Steph's sunglasses. Want to bathe in an ice-cold brook even though I hate ice-cold brooks and am glad there are none anywhere around. Wikipedia is acting up today. Life has lost a bit of colour since The National Playlist has gone off the air.
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Drinkin: coffee
Listening to: the CBC
Just wrapped up a pretty cool visit with my mum, dad, and (for one random day) Jeordyn. Not one fight! That is a first. Silk Road for tea leaves, the Paul's Motor Inn diner (which I have fallen in love with), a film about India at the Imax, lots of walks on beaches (I only seem to stumble along beaches when company is in town), a new green tank top, Taboo and wine at Fiona's, pool at Peacock's (my dad, by the way, is a total pool shark! He used to run a pool hall in Banff when he was 19! "We had no music in my pool hall," he sniffed. "The only sound was the clink, clink, clink of cue sticks and balls."), and three movies: I Walk the Line, Yentl, and Napolean Dynamite.
Also Matt's parents blew into town for Easter, as did Miranda, Riley, and Darren, which was supercool. Miranda did something amazingly classy and presented me with a huge boquet of yellow and purple Easter lillies when she arrived at my house; they are bursting into full bloom on my bookshelf as we speak.
So! That's that. I think I have gingivitus. I need to go to the dentist. I have no coverage. Weird thing: last night at a staff meeting for Work a bunch of us voted on a benefits package which, if it goes through, will provide me with 100 PER CENT DENTAL COVERAGE! Two bad things though, one, it may not be voted through, and two, if it is, it will come into effect sometime "between now and the end of the summer." Grrr-ish, because I pretty much need to go to the dentist today. I may look into signing up for coverage through Alumni Services. How does that work? Could I start paying the premiums today and go to the dentist tomorrow?
Wow! Thanks to Ben for the coolest time-waster ever. This is a very partial list. I assume I'll be doing many more.
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This whole mySpace thing is pretty weird. I got an account so I could post comments on Elisa's blog, no other reason. And then a few of my friends got accounts, so I added them to my 'friend list," and now I've got 12 friends. And I go to other people's pages and they've got like 454 friends. And I get comments from random people 'inviting' me to be their friend, but I have no idea who they are and they don't even say anything, like, I live in your city, or, Your picture is interesting, or, I see we like the same movies: it's just BE MY FUCKING FRIEND. I reject them all, heartlessly. Click of the mouse. Bullshit! Is it some kind of popularity contest? I can see why bands would do this, cuz you know publicity, but individuals? Oh: on Coast to Coast AM the other night I heard that the next evolutionary step of the Internet would be to virtual realitize it so that you can actually hop in and surf the pages with a 3-D avator, and see other people and stuff. Pretty cool. I think Futurama already did it.
| Your Haloween Costume Should Be |
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Happy Easter Sunday! I hope everyone had a lovely Good Friday and Dead Saturday.
There's brunch at my house in an hour, and everyone's invited -- I probably should have posted this yesterday, or at least called some people -- then various slothing before a family dinner at 4. Matt planned everything. He's excellent at holiday functions.
Good film: Yentl, written, directed by, and staring Barbara Streisand of all people. My mother's pick, and Matt and I were skeptical beyond belief, but wound up loving it. Kind of a feminist Fiddler on the Roof.
By the way: there's a new diner in town where you can get chowder and pie! That's like their specialty, chowder and pie! The chowder's too expensive, but you get tons of fries.
I just read this wonderful article about how vegetarians have much lower rates of cancer than other members of the population. Up to fifty per cent, according to some studies! So, smugness ensues. Then, at the end of the article:
Researchers will need to take into account that most vegetarians generally do not smoke and only occasionally drink alcohol.
Oops? I took huge offence. Why stereotype vegetarians as self-righteous health nuts? Is it possible that some of us just respect animals, and couldn't care less about our health? Or do care very much, but are writers? Or think that nothing goes nicer with a tofu stirfry and rice dream ice cream than a .26 of Jack Daniels? I'm really quite upset. I'm writing a letter to the fucking editor.
Today at a Mall there was a lot of Easter hubbub going on: decorations, a colouring contest, etc. Then this huge man in a chicken costume started bounding around handing out foil-wrapped chocolate eggs from a basket. He was clucking and such; I grew disturbed and pushed past people to get out of the way.
My mother said my behavior was psychotic, or words to that effect, and then said, "Do you remember being terrified of the Easter Bunny when you were a baby?"
I didn't. The story is this: when I was a wee lass, the Easter Bunny made an appearance at a store in Lumby. He saw me from a great distance and jumped up and down and waved, then charged towards me to give me an egg. I started to scream. He came closer. I kicked my feet and flailed my hands. "Little girl, little girl!" he kept saying. "I'M THE EASTER BUNNY!"
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" I shouted. More kicks, more screams.
So this must be a repressed memory.
I just saw the Sex and the City foursome, aged 13, strut by my house! All had oversized handbags and spoke cooly into cell phones; I overheard one say, "And then she's buying me two Chanel necklaces." My jaw dropped, ladies. They even had hair extensions.
Off to Floyd's in a bit with the parental unit, then possibly a game of pool. Drop off my passport application. A walk down the Breakwater, you say? 'Tis tradition.
Rotation Of Earth Plunges Entire North American Continent Into Darkness
New link to the right, in the Thunder Bolts That Strike in the Night section: yay for Jay! He's touring across Canada at the moment, so the blog makes for great reading ... See also Ryan's blog, same band, same tour.
African yam and peanut soup is on the go, rye and coke is being sipped, and Brokeback Mountain will soon be viewed. Charles Mingus blares. My parents blast into town on Tuesday.
Drinkin: coffee
Listening to: the Breeders
A jolly old Saturday yesterday: coffee and the news, then Matt made a spectacular breakfast of hashbrowns fried with zucchini and onion, plus eggs and croissants. Chores. Walk the Line, which was quite a good movie, and Reese Witherspoon stole the show. Cocktails. A walk downtown, a large Visa payment. Dinner at Hime with Dan, Michael, Ben, Steph, and Jay. Tempura, miso soup, salmon California roll! A van ride home, sans Dan, Steph, and Jay, to eat chips and ice cream while popping Michael's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas cherry. He claimed to like it, but I saw doubt and confusion in his eyes. Was he LYING to me? Sent him home with a copy of the book. Sex, bed, Coast to Coast AM.
- "shots for breakfast" X7
- Alcoholic Shots X2
- aglow woman's breakfast
- cum in the breakfast
- cum for breakfast
- POWERFUL Cum
- brutal cum shots
- How many calories are in Sambuca
- blog victoria matt world's fattest racehorse
- soccer mom coffee
- the joy that kills movie script
- moterbike film anthony hopkins
- family guy episode with hermaphrodite
... So do people know my blog is called Shots for Breakfast and that's why they're googling, or do they really want instructions on how to make breakfast that way??
| The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic |
 But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky. Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski |
1) When you were little what was your favorite TV show?
General Hospital. Seriously. My mother and I watched it avidly from the time I was six or so, although she would make me leave the room during sex scenes.
2) What was your favorite movie?
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and The Adventures of Natty Gan.
3) What is your favorite TV show currently?
Lost. Hot people with life-threatening problems!
4) What is the best movie you have seen so far this year?
Like, in 2006? Hmm. Water was probably the best. I also liked the first Narnia installment, and Auntie Mame, though from the 60s, has become an all-time personal cult hit.
5) If someone was going to make a movie or TV show about your life, who would play you and why?
I would genetically splice together Lauren Ambrose and Sarah Polley: Ambrose for the looks, Polley for the attitude.
Well, I'm still alive. That asshole who walked by my house as I smoked a cigarette is wrong. When he shouted, "One minute! You've got one minute left," he was wrong.
Listening to: DJ Shadow
Drinkin: Moosehead
Had a new passport photo taken this morning, and was very pleased with the result. Last year's effort had both Matt and I looking like crack-addicted serial killers; this time round, he looks like an airbrushed Greek god, and I a highly successful juniour executive (albeit slightly bohemian, the psychadelic collar of a vintage 1970s mini-dress peeking above the top of my fitted black Togo jacket). The professional I enlisted to sign the back of the photo said I looked like Karen Kain. "Too skinny," I said. "What about Sarah Maclachlan?" He agreed, though dubiously.
More work has been accomplished on Four Ways to Paint Carl. I'm into the second of four sections. I like it.
| You Should Be A Virgo |
 What's bad about you: you are an insane perfectionist and easily find faults in others In love: you are obsessed with making your partner happy In friendship, you're: helpful and giving - eager to be a true friend Your ideal job: poet, flight attendant, or natural healer Your sense of fashion: casual, upscale, revealing, conservative - you look good in all of it You like to pig out on: a well prepared five course meal |
This is fairly accurate, as I am a Virgo, and probably the most stereotypical one in the book. Everything fits: hypochondria, writing ability, perfectionism, workaholic, emotionally guarded, analytical, manipulative, compassionate, prone to useless trivia, and bound for a career in either writing, politics, law, or humanitarian work. In fact, of the hundreds of personality descriptions I've read, only two don't fit: I am not a humble person, and I don't have expensive, conservative tastes in clothes and grooming. I'd love to talk to Jeordyn about all this, as he's a Virgo too ...
Today at work I met a little kid, and after we were introduced he said, "That's a weird name." Then he told me all about snakes. It was neat. I approve of children speaking their minds, so long as they have something interesting to say, and I also encourage the acquisition of obscure knowledge. He told me all about how snakes store poison in their teeth, and then it mixes with their saliva somehow to aid with digestion: I didn't quite comprehend it all, but it made me want to read up on the topic ...
In other news: On Sunday evening, after 22 days of not drinking, Matt and I bought six-packs and drank them at the Dallas Rd. Beach. Eventually we met some hippies from Ontario and built a fire. I lost one of my beers, and fell into the sand with my mouth open.
Yesterday Sambuca and I had a staring contest, and I won because she lost interest. Then I did the thing she hates most in the world, which is to slowly, after a build-up of a few minutes, bring my hand close enough to touch her gently on the tip of her tail. She gets murderous when I do this. She punches me with her claws extended and thrashes her tail like the Loch Ness. But purring as loud as a tractor while doing so, to punish me psychologically.
Last Friday Ben and I had fruit spritzers from the Lotus Pond that tasted exactly like strawberry lip gloss.
Went to Hime for dinner last night, with Matt, and chatted with Glorie, who is sexy in her waitress outfit and really ought to star in an independent film with it on. Later, jazz tea at Serious Coffee: plans, lists. It's all coming together. Check marks! The Martlet, many unread copies of which are nestled in a wicker basket by the gas fireplace.
I'm grumpy. Everyone from work went out for a beer after we were done today, for the first time ever, except me. Grumpy because I know one beer wouldn't hurt, and I also know (from glorious and memorable experience!) that there is no better way to bond with co-workers than at the pub, but I promised myself I'd go a month and that's what I'm going to do. I'm still grumpy. These last three weeks have been incredible in terms of my emotional health, and physical health too, but I have to say it's been a bit on the boring side. Blagh.