Monthly Archives: November 2007

i’m a polygramist myself

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Men’s deodorant is confusing. Yesterday, in an attempt to be helpful, I picked up not one but TWO different kinds of men’s deodorant for Ed. Naturally, they both turned out to be utterly wrong. Why is deodorant so complicated? Why is this the third entry I’ve written on deodorant within the last two months? If I were a pundit, I would make some sort of crack about something stinking but alas, I am just not that clever.

I woke up with a fantastic headache. I’m a little worse for wear this morning, but Cheddar is distracting me by being disarmingly cute. Also, the mailman has been playing ketchup and is delivering me outstanding goods at a rate of two per day – this morning I received another fancy gift from Nintendo and a package full of Christmas gifts for various people that I am quite excited about. If my head didn’t hurt so much and I wasn’t so unequivocally, spasmodically unemployed, I would be really quite upbeat about it all.

Lastly, here are some words.

coaxial: there was something i was going to ask you
Kimli: i’m already married
coaxial: dang
coaxial: what are your feelings on monogramy
coaxial: whatever that is
Kimli: it’s a single letter sewn into your clothes
Kimli: like the scarlet letter
coaxial: i see
coaxial: not as awesome as I’d imagined
Kimli: well, the scarlet letter is because you’re a shameless whore
Kimli: so it’s not all bad
coaxial: sweet

The concept of “monogramy” makes me laugh, a lot.

if card is in play, player must take off pants

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I made a Kimli trading card.

Ed: Why did you make a trading card?
Kimli: After I threw up yesterday, I got to thinking that Alfredo Sauce is now a sworn enemy of mine, so much so that if I had a trading card that listed my enemies, Alfredo Sauce would be on there. Then I made a trading card so I could list it along with other things that I do not get along with, like gravity.
Ed: You are weird.

baby you’re no good

Posted in angst by

I hate it when excellent restaurants go away.

We’ve dined at Higashi West at the Lonsdale Quay a bunch of times, and each time it’s been delicious and cheap and unique. Last week when I met Shan at the Quay, I noticed with horror that the restaurant was newspaper’d up completely. Hoping they were just closed for renovations, I went over and looked for signage – nothing. I tried to peek through the paper – nothing. It’s just closed up. No signs, no activity, no ethereally delicious scallop thingies – nothing.

Well, fuck. I loved that place. I went online trying to find out more, but there’s no info to be found. Curious though, I did find a restaurant review dated as recently as October 23rd of this year and another one the day before that. I discovered they were gone on November 15th – so at some point in those three weeks, they went from awesome to gone. This sucks.

Also sucking: I’m morbidly convinced that I will never get another job in ANY industry, let alone the one I’m throwing myself at so shamelessly. I am depressed and quite literally medicating myself with ice cream; something I only thought ever happened in chick flicks/lit. I am utterly despondent that several positions I applied for that I would be truly excellent at have been reposted, meaning I didn’t make the cut (again). I am thinking there is little to no point in reapplying, but what else have I got to lose except my apartment. In short, I am in a funk. It is not a good funk. It is a very, very bad funk.

Booooo.

i’m a streaker

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Most people, when nervous, tend to sweat or stutter or twitch.

When I’m nervous, my eyes start to water.

A lot.

Not a big deal, right?

Except I really like my mascara.

A lot.

No, it’s not waterproof. Yes, I spent most of my thing with big black streaks around my eyes. Yes, I am sure it made a fantastic impression.

The thing went well. Now I get to stop being nervous about the thing and instead hunker down to be nervous wondering if they liked me and if they want me for stuff. I am sure the runny mascara absolutely helped my cause; nothing says “I am a loyal and hardworking employee” like looking as though you’re about to burst into tears.

Just call me Streaky McGee!

Crap.

 

nerves of milk

Posted in nerd, vroom vroom by

Oscar has an owie. It was beautiful yesterday, so Shan, Josh and I went for a scoot to West Vancouver to look for boots. All was fine and good, except Oscar would not start. The ignition tried to fire up when I pressed the start button, but after a sickly sound or two there was no more – absolutely nothing happened when I pressed the go button. As much as I like to claim I am an independent woman complete with hands being thrown up at me, it is at this point that Shan and I started to call boys. I can build you a computer with my eyes closed then make a 4-course dinner while balancing budgets and textbooks on my head then kick your ass at the video game of your choice for dessert, but I just don’t do vehicles or engines.

Ed didn’t answer his phone, so Josh came downstairs and managed to kick start Oscar. Once he was going, he ran beautifully and we went for a glorious ride. The start button just would not work though, so we think Oscar’s battery may be dead. He has an after-market alarm, and it probably drained his battery so now I have to figure out where to get another one and what to do with it. I should make Ed do it, since I had to call upon a backup knight in shiny armour – seriously, what the hell is the point of having a husband if he can’t come to your rescue when you need it? It’s a good thing Josh came scooting with us; Oscar had to be kick started three times and I was only able to do it myself once. I do not like having a broken Oscar. It makes me sad. I also need to practice my kicking.

I have to go make myself presentable for the thing. I am unfathomably nervous. Between the thing and Oscar’s owie, I could really use some excellent karma so this morning I did this. It is neat idea. You should do it too; then we can try out the mesh network and freak out the squares with our green and white plastic laptops.

scared of the thing

Posted in angst by

I have a thing tomorrow.

I don’t normally write about interviews in advance for fear of jinxing myself, but I’m sure doing exactly that can’t hurt as much as I scare myself into thinking it will.

The thing is a little different than other things I’ve been to – for one, it was an invitation to lunch to meet and discuss. There was no specific thing I’m being called out for, so it’s really .. you know, a meet and discuss. Naturally, I am terrified. I mean, I would be terrified if it was a general interview but because it is a thing I am even more scared than usual.

Of course I hope that a nifty awesome job will come from this, but I am the world’s worst self-pessimist. While I know I should be confidently shouting my skills from the rooftops, I usually think I HAVE no skills and as such, people wouldn’t really want to meet with me to discuss jobs or openings or opportunities of any kind.

So what, if not a job, am I afraid this meet and discuss is all about?

I am afraid:

  • They’re going to try to sell me Amway
  • They’re going to sit me down and tell me gently but firmly that no one in the industry will ever hire me because:
    • I have no skills
    • I am not pretty enough
  • I’ve been blacklisted from the Vancouver job market, ALL of it
  • They’re going to ask if I’ve given thought to accepting the Lord as my own personal Jesus, then break out into synchronized dancing as Depeche Mode plays in the background
  • I’m about to be Punk’d
  • I’m about to snap back to reality oh there goes gravity oh there goes Rabbit he choked he’s so mad but he won’t give up that easy no he won’t have it he knows his whole back’s to these ropes
  • That I won’t be able to get that Eminem song out of my head

Mostly, I am just scared that I don’t deserve to get a good job where I’m treated like a real human being.

underwhelming

Posted in everyday kimli by

I did in fact take my traffic ticket in to be dealt with, but the result wasn’t anything like I had imagined. She didn’t care a bit WHY I wanted to dispute the ticket; just that I felt like disputing was enough to get the process started. She printed out a piece of paper, stapled my ticket to it, and sent me on my way. That’s it. Any time between now and a year from now I’ll be summoned into court to dispute the ticket. If the cop doesn’t show up, it gets thrown out – there’s a good chance I won’t get to tell ANYONE (except the internet) my beautiful and logical reasons why I think the traffic ticket is a joke. This is so unfair.

awkward moments in history

Posted in angst, everyday kimli by

Go on – ask me how awkward it is to buy sex toys in front of a four-year-old child.

Last night Shan and I went to the Open House at the Lonsdale Quay. All the stores on the second floor were offering free food and discounted hoohahs, in addition to the various artisans displaying their wares. We wandered around a little, had some free nibblies, and made some small purchases in the name of giving to others but really to ourselves. Each store was featuring a different type of food item, so in making the rounds we had a relatively full meal from each of the major food groups – salami, crackers, cheese, cherry tomatoes, cupcakes and chocolate.

The sex store in Lonsdale was part of the festivities, and they had a chocolate fountain with marshmallows and strawberries and sticks. I eschewed the marshmallows in favour of the fruit, and it was delicious. The logistics of owning and operating a chocolate fountain seems like far too much work for me, but I did enjoy experiencing someone else’s. Since everyone enjoys chocolate, the sex store was one of the more popular places in the evening. This is excellent; everyone should buy things from sex stores. Unfortunately though, *everyone* likes chocolate – including small children. There were many small children huddled around the chocolate fountain, eating all the marshmallows. Fine by me, I wanted the strawberries. The sex store was also having a “15% off everything!” sale, so we both looked around at the saucy items and I eventually opted to pick up a couple things.

This is where the four-year-old comes in. The girl working the register was deep in conversation with several friends, some of whom brought small children. She, being very tall, had hoisted the small boy child up into her arms so he could contribute to the conversation, things like “babies are small” and “I have a card”. Everyone ooh’d and aww’d at this apparently astounding display of smarts, and I had to heartless interrupt their good times by wishing to give the store some money. Small child still perched on her hip, the very tall girl made it to the register, set the small child on a stool so he was eye level with the items I was purchasing, and started to make things go beep.

This was not at all awkward.

The small child cast a curious eye towards my purchases, then thankfully opted to babble about a clown. The tall girl eventually handed my the debit keypad, then finally a black bag full of saucy items and I was able to make my escape (after another strawberry).

Did not like. I am in my element in a sex store. I am extremely awkward around small children. Purchasing dildos and leather restraints and ball gags in front of a small child is not at all as fun as it should be.

As uncomfortable as that entire scenario was, the highlight of the evening was undoubtedly the two tiny old ladies stomping around the lubricant aisle with one of them sagely saying “All it took was chocolate to finally get us into a sex store!”. Too cute. And props to them for not just taking the chocolate and leaving but actually going into the store to have a peek around!

At one of the stores we saw a line of knitted, beaded jewellery being sold that looked very, very familiar. I know I didn’t invent the idea or anything, but it was damn near identical to the stuff I was making during the Purl Necklaces days. I’ve actually been thinking about Purl Necklaces a lot – I miss being all crafty and I had a lot of fun with it. I still have a staggering amount of pretty shiny beads, so I just ordered some sterling silver wire off the eBays. It’d be nice to start it up again, even if only for myself. Hell, if someone can sell a pendant almost identical to this for $80 in a boutique, then maybe I should rethink starting Purl Necklaces back up again. I could use $80!

Hmpf. I made this choker for a friend; they’re selling the same idea on a bracelet for $149. I could whip up a pretty exact copy in a few hours, and it sure as hell wouldn’t cost $149. Oh well. I’m not really cut out for business anyway; I gave away my Purl Necklaces on a donation basis and it was fun. I think I’ll bone up on my knitting this weekend.

Heh heh “bone”.

things i do not appreciate

Posted in everyday kimli by

Such as brother-sent spam containing gems like this:

“If you support your troops, send this to 7 people.

If you don’t support your troops well, then don’t send this out.  You don’t have to email this. It’s not like you know the men and women that are dying to preserve your rights.”

Many swear words are being said right now. Send them to 7 people, because if you don’t, the terrorists win.

What utterly repulsive bullshit.