the craft

Last night’s forecast of “light rain” was the grossest understatement of the century.

It was a full-blown epic friggin’ hurricane out there – torrential downpour, scary winds, and I am pretty sure I saw four guys on horses flying through the air. My ride home from the opera was probably the scariest ride I’ve ever had; even worse than the time I rode naked and blindfolded through a cemetery at midnight on Halloween after watching a “My Super Sweet 16” marathon on TLC. I’ve never been wetter; not even that time I watched Bizarro Titanic. Continuing my trend of public nudity, I took off most of my sodden clothes in the hallway before I opened my door – I was soaked through each of my four layers. It was bad. My jeans are still dripping water into the bathtub.

The bad continued early this morning, when I was awakened by the second worst noise a cat owner can be startled by: the sound of a full keyboard buffer. I bolted out of bed to see Sasha sitting on my laptop like she belonged there, and all my windows fucked up. She also shed all over my keyboard, and pried a few of the keys up. I *hate* it when the cats sit on my laptop. Anyone want a cat or four?

All that is behind me though, as I am getting ready to leave for Got Craft on Commercial Drive. I hope to see some of you there! It should be pretty awesome; the last one was a lot of fun and all I did was take pictures.

Speaking of pictures, I’ve uploaded images from last night’s opera – check them out, why not. Good times.

Time for fun!

needs a punk cover

needs a punk cover

cultured necrophilia

Despite my pleading and shameless use of naked boobs as a weapon, Ed and his Constitution of Steel recovered from his Bacon Lung enough to go on his business trip. He left for Toronto this morning at 5am, and by way of saying goodbye, I poked him in the teeth. We are an unusual couple.

I will not have time to fret this weekend, as it is the BUSIEST WEEKEND EVER. Tomorrow night I get to attend the opening of the Vancouver Opera’s production of Salome, and I am excited – I’ve never had an excuse to write about necrophilia before!

Sunday I’ll be at Got Craft all day, selling my wares. I’m almost ready – I’ve crafted all that I can craft with the supplies at hand, I have a wee display set up, and most of my goods are organized for scooter transport. I just need to make a sign or two and I should be set. It’s all for fun, so I’m not too worried but it’d be nice to sell some stuff. Last night I made myself a Purl Necklace with the last of my wire, and I seem to have made it in Canuck colours – go team! I have spirit, yes I do! I have spirit, how about you?

Speaking of Opera, if you’ve been waiting for your chance to check out the awesome now’s your chance – the Vancouver Opera is offering a two-for-one ticket deal for Salome. It’s the last opera of the season, and if the other two performances I’ve seen have been any indication, it’s going to be amazing. If you want to go – and I absolutely think you should; everyone should see an opera at least once – call 604-683-0222 with promo code 1833. It’s good for all performances, so you have four chances to see Salome do the deed with a dead guy. Hooray!

a mess of purl necklaces

a mess of purl necklaces

blue-and-green

go sea-whales go!

haunted playgrounds and squishy things

Whee! Adventure!

Yesterday I finally managed to drag Ed out for an epic scooter ride. I had never been to Ioco, so I wanted to check it out. We scooted a total of 82km, went to a bunch of different places, had lunch at my favourite chain restaurant, and looked at gross things. This was our route:

vroom vroom

vroom vroom

We were out for almost 6 hours, and by the time we got home we were exhausted. It was a beautiful day, and I got to explore places I’ve never been before – I couldn’t ask for a better Sunday!

Sunday evening was quiet and good. I watched cartoons and crafted all evening, getting ready for Got Craft this coming Sunday. Miranda and I are sharing a table, and I’ve been busy making Purl Necklaces to sell. I’m having a really hard time with the pricing – it seems silly for me to charge money for my pretty things, but I suppose that’s the whole idea. Miranda’s stuff is really cool and my stuff has a funny name, so you should come by and say hello. It’s $2 to get in, there’ll be so many awesome things you won’t know what to do with yourself, and the first 30 people in the door get crazy swag bags filled with all kinds of fun. This’ll be my first ever craft show, so I’m a little nervous – what if people hate my things and call me names? That would make me very sad. I’ll have to borrow morale support that day, because Ed is flying to Toronto again on Thursday and won’t be back until next week so clearly you need to come to Got Craft on Sunday and say nice things to me and also bring me some Diet Coke because I’ll be there all day.

I can’t believe it’s almost May. I have so many things I want to do, but I’m booked for every weekend from now until June. My calendar to the right shows what’s coming up for this month – it’s going to be a busy one, what with the VACATION coming up and various things tucked in here and there. I really want to drag the gang out to Belcarra or Buntzen Lake for a picnic one weekend, but there no *time*. I think I’m going to steal Monica’s idea from last year for my own birthday and have a scooter picnic at Kits Beach, but that’s a long time from now. I don’t want to be at my desk; I want to be outside. Spring is terrible for my productivity.

I did not see any ghosts at Ioco, but next time I’m going to bring some ghost bait.

if you hear children laughing, RUN

if you hear children laughing, RUN

i hate him so hard

My ride to work this morning was a little surreal. There was an accident that really fucked traffic up, and there was a large pile of snow in Stanley Park that was *not* there on the way home yesterday. I have no idea where it came from – it certainly didn’t snow last night, and there are no ice rinks nearby. It makes pretty much no sense for there to be a large, localized pile of snow in the middle of the forest next to a highway.

I had plenty of time to look around as we waited for the accident to be dealt with. After admiring the scenery and once again marveling that I actually live here, my attention fell upon the woman in the car in front of me. I had about 30 minutes to watch her as we crawled along the bridge deck, and she was simultaneously amazing and disgusting. Hey lady in the white Mercedes 530 – maybe it would have been a better idea for you to, I don’t know, DO YOUR HAIR AT HOME BEFORE YOU LEFT THE HOUSE? I rode behind this idiot and watched in horror as she used both hands to brush her hair into place, secure it with various pins, and do it all up in a tight knot with a large clip – several times, since she kept being interrupted with the whole “must move car forward” thing. She had both her rear view mirror and her side mirror pointed at her face as she did herself up all LDS-style, and wasn’t paying any attention to the road whatsoever – she was incredibly lucky that her car had excellent wheel alignment, because she would have driven right into the concrete barrier. Every time we stopped on the bridge she would start doing her hair in earnest, then not moving until I honked at her to go once traffic started flowing again. The second time I honked she stopped what she was doing to glare at me. Clearly, I am in the wrong here and the driver’s seat is the perfect place to do your hair and make up in the morning and I should be ashamed of my rudeness. Yes.

After her hair was sufficiently perfect, she started to apply mascara and then lipstick – all while driving her car. I hope the irony is not lost on her that she was doing her makeup while driving past an accident on the bridge, but I doubt it gave her anything to think about. Some people just feel entitled to endanger others, I suppose.

Also, her hair was horrible and the bright yellow cardigan she was wearing? Barf. I am amused that she almost caused several accidents to make herself look like that on purpose, but that’s pretty mean of me. Maybe I am a terrible person after all.

No time to question my own morality, though – I have a vacation to plan! Yesterday I booked a hotel in San Francisco for our road trip next month. I found a small place right in the middle of all the things I want to see for about $75 a night which is pretty reasonable. I checked a bunch of reviews and they all seem to be really positive, which is good – I didn’t want to stay in a total dive, but we’re also going to be there for 4 nights so we can’t really afford to go for fancy. Besides, I’m not there to hang out in a hotel room – as long as I have a place to plug in my laptop and shower in the morning, I am happy. We’re about a mile from Fisherman’s Wharf, 6 blocks from the crazy section of Lombard Street, close to downtown and Chinatown and Japantown and holy shit I am so excited I could just pee. VACATION! A VACATION THAT DOES NOT INVOLVE EDMONTON IN ANY WAY! YIPPEE!

Sorry.

I’m just very, very excited.

Where was I? Oh yes, being racist.

*ahem*

Fucking Aquaman.

building excitement (in my pants)

At lunch today I bought a book called San Francisco Day by Day that lists “must see” things based on the length of your visit. We’re less than 2 months away from our road trip, and I can’t wait – I have to stop myself from packing. It’s too early, even for me.

The outlook for our trip looks good. Ed starts his new job on Monday with a full compliment of vacation days and benefits, and he has already told them about our planned trip for May. I don’t see any difficulties with his job, and my days off have already been approved. This could actually happen. We could *actually* go on a vacation that isn’t to Edmonton. I may have to pinch myself.

I love road trips. There’s something about hopping into a car and pointing it somewhere new that fills me with a very primal glee. If I were a single lass, I would never be around – every free moment I had would I be off exploring something new. Unfortunately, I live in the real world and I have a job and commitments and only 2 days’ worth of music stored on my iPhone so I have to plan my adventures out with a little more restraint. Still, our trip is looking to be fun. The plan is to hop in the car one early Saturday morning in May and not stop (except for socks) until we’re in the shadow of the Golden Gate. Ed’s never been to San Francisco, and I’ve never been on my own terms – I can’t wait. Have I mentioned that I can’t wait? I want to go NOW.

Back to my radio silence, then.

do you believe (you can sell hot dogs)?

Last week in a violent fit of patriotism, I applied to be a volunteer for the 2010 Winter Olympics.

I’m still slightly bemused with myself for doing it – I am not a fan of Teh Sports. I think too much money is spent on sports instead of on arts and sciences. There’s also the uproar over the cost of the Games – enormous bills being footed by the taxpayers that will eventually affect me, and the questionable purification of East Hastings. There’s a lot to furrow my brow at, for sure.

Then there’s the other side. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be part of something worldwide and epic. I like my city, and I want us to dazzle the universe when we’re in the spotlight. It might be fun. I’m big on Experiencing Things, and this would definitely be an Experience. I’ll try anything once – it gives me things to write about, which I enjoy. Behind the scenes is so much more fun than my living room.

I’m off to some sort of volunteer interview this afternoon. I have to submit myself to a background check, which I find hilarious. It’s a three-hour process; interviews are done in groups or individually if they think you have Secret Skills they might want to exploit. We’ll see how it goes. I said I wanted to be a performer in the opening ceremonies, but I am realistic to a fault – just because I make an excellent dancing zombie does not mean they are going to put short fat Asian girls on the world stage. I highly doubt that’s what I’ll be doing – assuming I pass the background check – but I DO have other talents.

I may be in this to help the city, but I also have my limits. If it’s determined that my role in the Games will be to sell hot dogs, I’m out. I can (and do) sell hot dogs at home; I don’t need to use up all my vacation time next year to be proud of my meat-slinging contribution. I’m hoping there will be an interesting place for me. I’ll donate my time, but only if there’s something – namely, an Interesting Experience – in it for me.

What do you wear to a background check, anyway?

full frontal disclosure

I’m sort of famous!

The Georgia Straight interviewed me a week or so back about the upcoming Blogger Night at the Opera. The article posted last night, and I’m quoted and sounding all silly. Check it out and bask in my faint glow of notoriety! As an added bonus, my oft-disguised last name is bared for all to see – let the stalking begin!

I’m really getting excited about Saturday’s performance. We’ve been warned that while Carmen had a scene with live cigarettes on stage, Rigoletto has nudity, suggestive scenes, a cage, and a girl who dies in a sack. How awesome is that? I absolutely cannot wait. Girls in sacks! CAGES! An opera that almost never was – Paris authorities shut down the play it was based on after the opening performance in 1832 because of the immoral themes, and the opera’s writers were debased for their “repellant immorality and obscene triviality”. I am nothing if not repellant, immoral and obscene so this is going to speak to me on so many levels.

There’s an article in today’s Vancouver Sun that shows just some of these cages I am so excited about. There are clowns in them, which is an excellent thing to put in cages.

Of the utmost importance is the fact that I’ve decided what I’m going to wear on Saturday night. I got some fishnet stockings last week that I’ve been dying to put to good use, and an obscene immoral opera performance is pretty much the best reason ever.

I still have some coupons for a free bottle of Herbal Essences Hydralicious Shampoo or Conditioner, so if you want one or have already haiku’d your way to one, please email me your snail mail address (kimli at delicious juice dot com) and I’ll send a coupon over. Contrary to the name (and my eternal disappointment), the shampoo really has nothing to do with nine-headed sea serpents – actually, it smells pretty damn good. I’m using the purple one, and it smells kind of glorious – a definite welcome change from my utilitarian-yet-charmless hair puck that does the job but doesn’t give me orgasms of any kind.

I swapped out my incredibly awesome yet nearly invisible Shure earphones for a pair of giant bright green headphones at work so people could tell I was listening to music and could not hear them calling me, but it’s not working. Do I need a neon sign or something? How can you possibly not know that these huge green things are headphones and not just a terrible fashion statement? Yeesh.

Okay, working now.

opera blogging: redux

I am delighted to announce that I most likely did not make an utter fool of myself at the opera, and as such, have been invited back to attend the opening night performance of Rigoletto on March 7th.

There is excitement, and it is large and throbbing.

MORE OPERA! The first Vancouver Opera Blogger Night was a big success, so they’re doing it again. I’m thrilled that I get to attend another performance, and write about it at the same time – seeing Carmen was a spectacular treat, and I am beyond honoured that the awesome folks at the Vancouver Opera are bringing me back to check out Rigoletto.

I know I’m an excitable creature by nature, but being able to partake in a fancy sort of fun fills me with a warm glowing warming glow and also a bursting vocabulary. Every person should treat themselves to a Night at the Theatre at least once – if not as often as possible – and I am really looking forward to this. If I was an Opera Newb before, it’s even more pronounced this time – I was at least familiar with the story behind Carmen, but Rigoletto is entirely new to me.

I read through the Rigoletto Manga and the wiki write up, and the story looks to be right up my alley: Misshapen jesters! Ominous curses! Blindfolds! People in cages! A girl sitting on a crescent moon! Partial nudity and suggestive scenes! All of these things are awesome.

I can’t wait for the 7th. I have just under two weeks to come up with an even more cleavagey dress than last time, something that shouldn’t pose too much of a challenge. I’ve already done the tiara bit, though. Perhaps it’s time to invest in some sort of boa.

This Blogger Night will be bigger than the last, too. In addition to my own irrelevant words, I’ll be joined by:

Also, how hilarious is it that I am the only one on the list who didn’t provide a last name. When I saw the list, I gave it some serious thought – perhaps it’s time I drop the pretenses of anonymity and give forth my last name to the internet at large – but then I realized it was far more funny to do the whole “one name only” thing, like Cher or Madonna or Fabio. In fact, that’s how it’s going to be. I am Kimli. I have no need for secondary names.

Because Ling is so very awesome, there’s actually going to be one other person at the opera that night: they’re letting me bring a guest, and I’m bringing Miranda. She’ll be an unofficial blogger at the opera and my date for the evening. Really, the only way this whole thing could be even more exciting is if they let me bring along a partner in crime and since that is covered, I am pretty much beside myself with glee.

Stay tuned for more developments as we get closer to opening night, including such fascinating details as what I will be wearing and which laptop I am going to be bringing with me.

DUDE I should totally invest in a Fancy Opera Laptop Bag. Preferably one with sequins.

i fought the law

How hilariously law-abiding is my life that I now think I’m a total badass because I’ve been to COURT?

Ridiculous or not, I am very excited that I have been through the courtroom process and that I pled guilty to a crime (okay, a violation) and I got to address a judge as “your honour” and everything.

I arrived at the courthouse at 9:15. There were many people milling about, waiting for their own trials to begin. I was very pleased to note that I was the only one wearing sequins, but I did see a dapper older gentleman in a fedora and a girl wearing a feather boa and stripper heels. I wasn’t worried about the competition, though – if it came down to sheer fabulosity, I would win by virtue of not wearing brown lipstick alone.

Various police officers were standing around looking official. While I technically should have hoped my own personal officer wouldn’t show up, I was glad to see she did – this way, I would get the whole experience. Each cop is supposed to talk to their arrestee to learn their intentions before approaching the court, so she took me aside to talk in the corner.

She got straight to the point. “Are you intending to plead guilty today?” I thought for a second, then explained why I was here: she entrapmented me! I was pulled over on that fateful night some 16 months ago because of the “illegal” turn I made, but my ticket was issued for the tinted windows (which were no longer tinted). Entrapment isn’t right, so I was here to fight for great justice (take off every zig) and my rights as a Canadian citizen! I erred on the side of caution and didn’t blurt out that I really was here because this was totally awesome – I ‘ve never had an excuse to appear in court before and I didn’t necessarily want to break laws for my chance so I was going to milk this experience for all it was worth.

The cop explained that she was actually doing me a favour by giving me the tinted window ticket – the fine for breaking a posted traffic law was greater, and given that I was clearly an Upstanding Citizen (she actually said that – twice – you heard it here folks; Delicious Juice Dot Com is an Upstanding Citizen) with an exemplary driving record, she hated ticketing me at all. She wasn’t going to argue with the judge; she would accept whatever he or she decided – but if I plead guilty, she would introduce my Upstanding Citizeness and perfect driving record to the court, and that plus the fact that the windows were now clear would probably get me a reduced fine.

I decided that I would do the smart thing here and plead guilty. There wasn’t much I could do about it – the ticket said “tinted windows”, the rest of the situation was heresy, and let’s face it – my windows WERE tinted. Also, not paying the $109 fine sounded like a good idea to me. Perhaps at some point in the future I could go through a real trial and present witnesses and evidence and shocking twists, but in the interest of my wallet, I decided to cave. Deep down I really wanted to plead not guilty just to see what would happen, but this didn’t seem like the place to do that. Next time, though, I will totally do it: I’ve never seen a holding cell, or worn handcuffs and clothes at the same time.

A little after 9:30, we were ushered into our various courtrooms. I had never seen a courtroom outside of TV before, so I was amused to note that this one appeared to have been built and decorated sometime in the Beige Era of the 70’s. The judge was seated already, and while he wasn’t wearing a powdered wig, his fancy judge cape had some lovely green satin piping. I don’t know what that means in judge ranks, but it was pretty fancy. I bet he was at least a level 3 judge. He took attendance of the cops present, and dismissed the charges against anyone who had a ticket issued by a cop who didn’t show up. He then called the first policeman to the stand, and asked him to present his first case.

The cop called up some guy who was prepared with an envelope full of paperwork. Judge Spiff wasn’t having any of it though, and told the man he wouldn’t be needing his carefully prepared documents. He seemed a little disappointed, and I totally knew that feeling. The judge read the charge – speeding – and asked the guy for his plea. After pleading guilty, he was given an opportunity to explain himself (or as it went in my head, the part where he is allowed to throw himself at the mercy of the court). It seems it was the day after this man’s wedding, and while he knows he shouldn’t have been speeding, his mind was elsewhere with excitement and it won’t happen again. The judge accepted his plea, reduced his fine to the mandatory minimum, and dismissed him from the courtroom.

COOL!

Next up was Junior McArgyle. He was there on two counts: speeding, and the failure to display the province mandatory “N” for new drivers. He had a long boring story to tell that boiled down to pleading guilty for speeding, and not guilty on the N count (it fell off, he says). The judge asked him his financial situation and how his fines would affect his life. Junior McArgyle was a student who lived at home, and didn’t have much money so the judge gave him six months to pay his reduced fines, then sent him on his way. Another verdict for Judge Spiff!

While Junior was talking, someone came into the courtroom. A very confused young man came in and stood at the back of the room during the session, and after Junior was dismissed the Judge asked Flat Brim Ron for his name. He gave it three times, as the Judge was unable to find him on his docket. It came to pass that Flat Brim Ron wasn’t actually there for himself, he was there for a friend – a friend whose name he had wrong, and needed to be corrected by the judge. After it was determined that his friend’s name was Johnson (not Jones) and he was there in his place, he was asked to give his name. The instant he did, the cop looked at him very sharply and very closely – I really, really wish I knew what was up with that, but there was some definite recognition and a story in there somewhere.

Flat Brim Ron’s case took longer than most, because he had absolutely no idea what was going on. He wasn’t really sure why his friend got the ticket, or what he wanted to plea, or why he wasn’t able to be in the courtroom himself. He shook his head blankly at every question asked, and as the cop was giving the judge the details – Flat Brim Ron’s cell phone rang. Judge Spiff was less than impressed by the entire situation: that Johnson hadn’t shown up, hadn’t given his friend any information, hadn’t tried to arrange something else with the court, hadn’t just paid the fine, hadn’t told FBR not to dress like a complete douche bag who didn’t have the sense (or read the signs telling him) to turn off his phone in the courtroom, and hadn’t taken responsibility for whatever it is he did. FBR eventually muttered something about wanting a later court date, to which the cop protested – Johnson had ample time to deal with this as the ticket was over 18 months old, and it was stupid to drag this out any longer. Judge Spiff agreed, and the request for continuance was DENIED. Johnson was on the hook for the entire fine, Flat Brim Ron could go away now, and it was time for the next case.

A few more cases came and went, including one that required the use of a translator (put off until the cop had a chance to talk to the defendant) and one that went to actual trial because of the Not Guilty plea (Judge wanted to hear the whole story in greater detail). After those were set aside and others dismissed, it was MY TURN!

My name was called, and I took my place at the podium with my cop to my left. The judge asked if I was the person I was supposed to be, to which I answered “Yes, your honour” and bit my tongue to keep from giggling. He read my crime – I had done a 7.05 (7) – and asked how was I to plea?

I took a breath and announced that I would be pleading guilty. I felt a pang of shame as I said this, because I didn’t WANT to be guilty – hell, it wasn’t my car and I didn’t tint the stupid windows and also there was entrapment – but I knew it made the most legal sense. The judge noted that the car was not mine, and I admitted that it was actually Ed’s. The cop spoke up at this point, to introduce my exemplary record to the court and explain that I was an Upstanding Citizen with no prior offenses and that she was asking for leniency on my behalf. Sweet! The judge looked over the ticket, then asked about my financial situation. I hadn’t expected this, and I stumbled for a few seconds before giving the lame answer of “umm .. regular?” with a helpless giggle. I didn’t know how to say it: I have a job, it doesn’t pay very many chickens, I work in IT so what do you expect, I only look rich because I am wearing sequins, I spent my last $4.25 parking the car to get here – so I went with a description that could be used to describe, among other things, bowel movements and menstrual flow. The judge seemed confused by my answer, repeating it back to me. He then announced that the court accepted my guilty plea and acknowledged my Upstanding Citizenship, would therefore reduce my fine from $109 to $25, and how would I like to handle it? I chose to pay the fine immediately, so the judge dismissed me from the courtroom and told me to go downstairs to pay. I thanked his honour, gathered my things, and left the room.

SUCCESS, SORT OF!

Now to pay my fine. I trundled downstairs, stopping to take some pictures. I quickly noticed the large sign saying that any cameras or recording devices were strictly forbidden, so I stuffed my camera in my bag and went looking for the cashier. I found it – after accidentally finding myself in the Small Claims line – and handed over my debit card to pay up the $25. I saw a lanky teen with another flat brim being handcuffed, several other people paying their fines, and lots of sheriffs standing around looking official, but I was done quickly and with half an hour to spare.

Since I *was* done so early (I put two hours on the parking meter; I wasn’t sure how long this thing would take) and I had sort of won my case (if you consider a guilty plea and still having to pay a win) AND I happened to be directly across the street from a MAC store that launched the HK line two days early .. well, I bought myself a treat by way of congratulating myself for only spending $25 on my crime instead of $109. Hey, I earned it. I fought the LAW today, and if that doesn’t call for celebratory lip gloss, I just don’t know what does.

you are guilty of being AWESOME

you are guilty of being AWESOME

contempt

I’m off to my court date! If I do not come back, it is because I’ve been thrown in jail. Frankly, I will consider today a complete failure unless I am held in contempt of court and also if robot sharks don’t try to eat me.

I may not have a surprise witness, but I *am* wearing sequins. Take that, justice! I will fight you with my bedazzled excellence!

Wish me hilarity!