Monthly Archives: June 2007

hilarity!

Posted in everyday kimli by

I’m amusing myself by reading the plot synopses of Korean horror films. In the write-up for this film (which is a British adaptation of a Korean short), a typo turned the entire thing from gruesome to oh god I think I’m dying from the sheer hilarity of it all:

The girl unexpectantly dies soon after, presumably from a raptured uterus.

Okay, so it should be “unexpectedly” instead of “unexpectantly”, but dang – if I had to die soon after, dying of a raptured uterus would definitely be the way to go.

Hee!

oh look, there’s down

Posted in broken kimli by

You are not going to believe this – seriously, are you sitting down? I sure hope so, because I wouldn’t want you to swoon with shock when I tell you my amazing news:

I fell down yesterday!

Aren’t you shocked? Aren’t you beside yourself with worry and confusion? Aren’t you incredulous that I, the epitome of grace and balance, somehow found myself sprawled out on the ground like a common clumsy peasant? Well, it’s true. I had to reset the counter on my bag and everything.

We went for a bike ride yesterday, and at some point my pant leg got caught in my pedal and I lost my balance, falling down onto the wet and muddy path. I really need to start falling on my left side, because once again I landed on my right and caused even more bruises and scrapes (the bruises from my scooter crash are still visible, more than two months after the fact). I also hit my head on a wooden fence post, literally moments after I had taken OFF my helmet. I wasn’t going fast – in fact, I had just started to pedal – but I am sore and dirty and was scolded by strangers for not wearing my helmet. At least I fell onto a dirt path and not concrete, and I barely tapped my head (I know, that doesn’t excuse me from wearing it and I am a very stupid girl and I promise I will wear my helmet at all times – even when not cycling, at this rate) but still. I’ve found down, okay? I don’t need to keep finding it – believe me, I know where it is if I ever want it again.

Last night, dirt and bruises aside, was fun. When we came home from our ride, Shan was outside with Reggie the Cat. It was a beautiful evening, so Ed asked our new neighbours if Milo the Puppy could come outside and play. We had ourselves an old fashioned Stoop Party! The 6 of us sat outside playing with the cats (Ed brought Hobble down) and the insanely adorable puppy, and during the hour or so we were outside almost every other person in our building came or went and said some hellos. Good times, and a nice end to an otherwise wet and crappy weekend. Besides, how freakin’ cute is this? I need a puppy, so’s I can put it in my basket.

It is one week until my birthday! Everyone should send me a birthday card. I never get birthday cards, so this year I think it would be excellent to receive some birthday cards. This is an official shameless plea for some love – seriously, scribble something on a piece of paper and send it to me. My mom did that for my 18th birthday, along with a note to feed the cat. I still have it. If you can do better than my mom, please send me a birthday card.

And a puppy.

Oops – an address would help, right? If you promise not to stalk me or send me anthrax, you can reach me below the cut:

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why i never

Posted in everyday kimli by

For a thousand different reasons, I haven’t had a stereo in the bedroom since I left my parent’s house. Today during the Great Rearrange of ’07, I put our little-used spare room stereo in the bedroom.

It’s like a whole new world in there. Not only can I listen to music, I can drown out my horrible neighbour’s horrible voice. Seriously, it’s like the clouds parted and angels broke into chorus and the sun beamed down some glorious golden light made of pixie dust and daydreams – I can’t hear my horrible neighbour! I can’t hear her cackle! I can’t hear her sing along to her terrible music! I can’t hear every detail of her phone calls, or listen to her talk to herself or anyone else within earshot! I can’t hear her moan or squeal or anything! I may have to listen to music ALL THE TIME now!

It is beyond disturbing to stumble across Facebook pictures of your little tiny niece* holding a giant purple dildo. It’s not that I object to the dildo – god knows I’m all for giant purple sex toys that look more like tree trunks than the penis they’re supposed to replace – but dude, she’s my niece. Isn’t she still , like, 7? Put that strap-on down and go play with your dolls!

*Okay, so she’ll actually turn 26 this month – STILL. I am scandalized.

the simple things

Posted in everyday kimli by

Surprise cereal is the BEST. I woke up craving a big bowl of my beloved Special K with Berries, but I distinctly remember finishing the last of the box earlier this week. I had resigned myself to having a bowl of Multi-Grain Cheerios and was reaching for the box when I found a completely unopened box of SKwRB! It is extra delicious because it is unexpected! Hooray for surprise cereal!

I have no idea what to do today.

1) rat out bosses to government; 2) ???; 3) profit!

Posted in angst, i'm an astronaut by

There’s a guy in the Space Station who has well-documented “inside voice” issues. When we were planning the office move, every single person brought up his voice as a potential problem – not only does he talk ALL. THE. TIME., he has a very loud voice. Not one person wanted to sit near him because it’s very difficult to get any work done when he is rambling at you about various things. We came up with a floor plan that placed his department in an area away from those who are on the phone a lot, and outside the offices of people who work outside the Space Station more often than they do inside.

Naturally, the Space Board decided to fuck all the plans that had been made, and put him right next to my department and handily away from their offices. This has made things difficult, to say the least. For starters, he sits right next to me, and he is loud. He talks NON-STOP. And best of all? The absolutely bestest thing ever?

He reads out loud.

So, when he’s not talking to me – or someone, anyone made eye contact – or on the phone – he is reading the internet, and WHISPERING WHAT HE IS READING. It is INFURIATING. When I first heard it, I thought he was whispering to someone – then I came to realize that no one is there, and he is whispering to himself. Sometimes it’s just low enough to hear that someone is talking but not what is said; other times I get to loudly and clearly hear what he is reading on the internet. My favourite is when something is not working on his computer, and he starts to whisper-swear. I love it, so hard. The other day I wore a pair of headphones over top of my noise-canceling earphones to try and block him out, and guess what – I could still hear him. I absolutely adore how the needs of the Space Board who are not here all the time outweigh the needs of the people who work here every single day.

Everything is making me cranky today – people’s voices, our lack of money, my raging uteral cramps, the whole non-real job thing. I want to take a few days off next month to help my mom and maybe go on a short road trip – but every day I take off equals no money. I am so fucking sick of not having vacation time.

I want a puppy.

I just emailed the Space Board asking if I can have some days off with pay, as I’ve been here for over 15 months. I also dropped the “according to the government, we should be receiving a minimum two weeks of vacation per year, or 4% vacation pay in lieu of time off” bomb, so we’ll see how this goes over. Put on your life jackets, people – Kimli is once again rocking the boat!

Where’s my puppy?

My birthday is in ten days. A puppy would be an excellent gift.

fearsome but cuddly

Posted in everyday kimli by

Today (or maybe yesterday or Monday, we’re not really sure) our tiny Hobble Kazoo is two years old. Over the course of the last couple years, he has changed a lot. He’s still playful and adorable and totally gay for Ed, but he’s also loving and rambunctious and the size of a small country. See for yourselves!

Hobble Kazoo at 7 weeks old:

Hobble Kazoo at 2 years old:

As you can see in the first image, Hobble is a tiny kitten that is almost dwarfed by the two toy mice we put on his back. However, in the second image, you can see that Hobble is a giant monster who threatens to devour all that you hold dear: for size comparison, I hoisted a mack truck onto his back so you can see the awesome size of this enormous beast. I fear that one day in the night, he will eat my face. Already he has been tasting Ed nightly to see if he is quite ripe enough to eat – soon, this giant feline will rend us limb from limb should he feel a mite peckish between his 18 daily feedings.

I think for his birthday, he would enjoy a puppy to play with!

the wettest laugh

Posted in nerd by

There are those who may scoff at my fetish for all things portable and internet, but chances are they are not currently naked and soaking in a hot bath and writing this update, as I am.

Take that, scoffers! Behold my wet and naked words and cower at their convenience!

calling all couples

Posted in i'm an astronaut, relationship drama by

My ice stinks. It must be time to change the Arm and Hammer, because that unpleasant smell coming from my Diet Coke is definitely not adding to the overall experience. Can you tell I’m extra hormonal this week? Two updates in a row about things that smell bad is not normal.

There is nothing new at the Space Station. We have several new people, not enough chairs, and most of the Space Board – in fact, all but one person – are spread out around the world, on business trips. I was right in being skeptical (naïve) about the June 1st Real Boy date, since it has come and gone with nary a word from anyone in the know. I rocked the boat again, vocally refusing to sign papers until I had been told anything about the change. We were actually told that we weren’t SUPPOSED to sign anything; the paperwork had been given out prematurely and we would have a meeting “soon” to talk about what the status change means for us.

Well, Space President is gone for at least two weeks and Space Lawyer is gone for a month. Perhaps they meant the Real Boy date was June 1st of 2008? Either way, there’s no update and no chance for vacation for me. I have to take some time off to help my mom move, which means I won’t get paid. It is awesome. Hooray!

Speaking of vacation, I have a question to ask the internet: for those of you in relationships, how do you handle vacations?

I ask because Ed and I are butting heads over this very issue. Here is the background, because I so sorely love to tell stories:

Ed gets two weeks of vacation every year. He uses one day for his birthday, one for mine, and 2-3 for our anniversary. That leaves 5 days, which he takes in July – and this is where the problem comes in.

Ed plans a solo vacation. Every year in July, he goes to Edmonton and Calgary for a total of 10 days – leaves on a Saturday morning, returns two Mondays later. He drives, meaning I am without a car. I also cannot go with him, because I don’t have vacation time of my own. Every year this comes up, and every year we fight about it and we are at an impasse.

My theory: it is unfair of Ed to plan a solo vacation every year, given that we’ve been together for ten years and married for 5. It is not fair to leave me without the car for ten days, because there are some places I cannot scoot to. To me, it seems that I get the “leftovers” of his vacation time; a day here and there that we can occasionally do a long weekend road trip, but no real trip away to anywhere because his solo road trip takes priority. While I don’t have real, paid vacation time, I can arrange my workload to go away for a few days for a trip of our own. I do like Edmonton, but as I have to choose my time away very carefully, I am less than enthused to use my only “vacation” to hang out at his parent’s house for a week doing what we did almost every weekend while dating.

Ed’s theory: It’s his vacation time, and he should be able to use it how he likes. I don’t get vacation of my own, so why should he not go away for 10 days just because I can’t? As for the car, well, I have a scooter so it’s not that big a deal. His Edmonton “vacation” isn’t really a vacation; he’s going home to see his parents. He planned out his vacation at the beginning of the year, and it was okay then so why not now.

What I want:

  • to plan a trip for the two of us to take
  • his parents to visit us for a change
  • Ed to stop using half (or more) of his paid vacation time on a solo road trip, instead perhaps planning a flight back home for an extended weekend once or twice a year
  • Ed to get his goddamn passport so we could plan a trip somewhere outside of Canada

What Ed wants:

  • me to come to Edmonton
  • me to stop complaining about his solo trip to Edmonton, seeing as how I’m invited
  • me to stop nagging him about his goddamn passport
  • a nap

There’s more to it, of course. This year, my mom is moving and needs our help. I have to take some time off to do this, so I have to choose between not getting paid so I can go to Edmonton and hang out, or not getting paid so I can go to Victoria and help my mother move. There is also the underlying anger I have over Ed’s inability to get his passport – I’ve been trying to plan an anniversary vacation for us for a year now, since this September is our Five Slash Ten – fifth wedding anniversary, and tenth anniversary as a couple. It’s a big deal, and I wanted us to go somewhere epic to celebrate – Mexico, or New York, or .. anywhere, as long as it’s new and adventurous. Ed, however, still does not have his passport. I found a backup celebration plan that I am admittedly looking forward to, but it doesn’t negate my overwhelming disappointment in Ed for ruining this for me.

Overall though, it’s Ed’s solo vacation and my struggling with understanding his need to use his vacation time to go home for ten days that is the issue here. I always thought vacation was something couples do together, and instead I feel like an afterthought to Ed’s own plans – he’s going, and I’m welcome to tag along if I wish and can figure out how to make it happen.

So, internet, this is OUR question to you: who is being more unreasonable? Ed, for planning and taking a solo vacation, or me for not being more understanding about it?

nerd toys are sexy

Posted in nerd by

I am posting this from my DS Lite, which is now a portable pink internettin’ machine. Sure, I COULD post this in a tenth of the time from any of my 7 other non-portable internettin’ machines, but I’m going for coolness here – not speed.

I am so damn fancy.

not at all suspicious

Posted in i'm an astronaut, relationship drama by

It must be a slow news day, because the internet is full of places eager to tell me who is threatening my relationship. Unfortunately, the internet does not think that Ed will fall in lust with some sweaty half-naked boys who like it when girls watch them making out – it’s telling me that he’s probably going to end up cheating with either an opposite-sex friend or a co-worker.

Truthfully though, I don’t have anything to worry about. I know all of Ed’s opposite-sex friends, and if he wants to get all kissy-faced with them, sure. Doesn’t bother me, as long as I get a head’s up and creative license to make fun of him.

The internet tells me that Ed’s coworkers are 4 out of 5 on the POTENTIAL THREAT SCALE. I could fly into a panic and insist that he find a job as the Head Rodeo Clown of a steel mill, but I don’t think there’s any reason to panic. It’s not like I don’t really know Ed’s coworkers, or that he constantly talks about one of them in particular, or that he has taken her on solo hikes in the forest, or that he turned off his cell phone so they could be alone in her hotel room without being disturbed, or that he stopped wearing his wedding ring for a few months .. I mean, all that would make me suspicious with worry. Yep. It sure would suck if Ed did all that! Boy, would I be upset!

We’ve been at the new Space Station for just over three weeks now. I really like the location and my most excellent parking spot, and there are enough interesting things around that lunch is no longer an exercise in rage. Still, not everything is perfect – namely, I friggin’ hate the bathrooms in this place.

We’re on the third floor, and the only bathrooms are on the second floor. This is inconvenient enough, but then there’s the smell. The second floor is occupied by a consulting firm; nothing too innocuous about that. However, the smell: it smells like the second floor used to be a doctor’s office; an old school one in which everybody smoked 24/7. It has the horrible stench of old sterility plus an underlying waft of archaic stale cigarette smoke. It is nasty. You can literally taste the stink – it catches on your teeth and smears itself on your taste buds, choking you with a thousand polio vaccinations and cod liver enemas. I avoid going to the bathroom when I’m at work, even though I am absolutely for peeing on the company dime. The smell, though – it’s so bad! There are some smells that just turn my stomach – burnt coffee, for one, and the smell of cheap tennis ball rubber – and now, the entire second floor of this building.

Given the unmanageable stench, the prison grade toilet paper the building custodians leave for us to use is just an insult added to injury. We pay a ridiculous amount of rent for our office space; why can’t we have toilet paper that was not made from tree bark? I’m thinking about bringing my own supply in from home. My life is difficult enough; I do not need hemorrhoids to go with my viral herpe strains.