Apparently some people don’t stalk my blog daily (why do you hate me) or perhaps read via RSS and therefore missed out on my horrible April Fools’ prank. I forgot to take a screenshot of the carnage, so I hastily recreated it this morning just so I could take a picture:

i'm so sorry

It wasn’t pretty, but it was effective. I’m glad of that, since it actually cost me money to do – so deep is my love of the absurd and my loathing of Comic Sans that I willingly coughed up money to be able to do a 2-second CSS edit for one day out of the year. Don’t say I never do anything for my readers – I love you all THAT MUCH.

I am cold and stressed out and waiting for email.

Bitch, it is ON.

One a week for the past month, a woman calls in who is desperate to speak to “whoever runs your company”. For some reason, she has the number of my People. My People doesn’t just want to give this woman the name of the CEO, so he tries to run interference. Today he asked the woman what her call was regarding, so he could direct her to the appropriate department. Her answer? “You just answer the phones; you don’t NEED to know what this call is about.”

I told him to hang up on her. What the FUCK, lady? Where the hell do you get off being that rude to ANYONE, let alone my People? I’m taking the next call she makes, and I’m looking forward to it – I NEVER get to be rude to people on the phone! This will be awesome!

Everything is being rude today. Strangers are looking at me as though I have two heads. The flowers I bought last week to happy up my desk are shedding pollen everywhere. I ate some bacon, and it got stuck in my teeth. The pop machine is out of Diet Coke. My underwear is bunching up in uncomfortable places. All of these things are RUDE! Whatever happened to manners and things not tangling up in my vagina? I’m doing what I can to work around the staggering inconsiderance of people and inanimate objects around me – I bought some Diet Coke from the store down the street; I refuse to look at the pretty flowers;  I am going commando – but my feathers are ruffled. I need to preen.

I posted last week that I had been accepted to speak at Northern Voice in May, and yesterday the summary for my presentation went up online. People are asking when I’m scheduled for, and I believe I’m presenting on Friday afternoon sometime – but most things at Northern Voice are recorded for later uploading, so I’ll see if I can’t find someone with a camera or 20 to help me out in this regard so’s the no-goers can see me make an ass of myself in a public setting.

I am nervous. I know I shouldn’t be – I am no stranger to the spotlight – but the idea of actually presenting something, a topic, instead of a) my boobs or b) doing play-by-play commentary is terrifying to me. I can do almost anything on the fly, but having to carefully choose what I want to say? That is a whole new game for me, and I don’t know that I can do it justice. It would have been so much easier to just mingle in the crowd again this year. Why didn’t I go that route? Oh right, because I am an idiot.

True to my nature, I feel terrible about people giving up 30 minutes of their time to come listen to me babble about nothing. So, I’m thinking about giving out swag bags. Everyone loves swag, and it might get people into the room – as terrified as I am about facing a crowd, it would be even worse if no one was interested in my topic. Oh god, now I’m afraid no one is going to show up at all! This is horrible! I fail at everything!

I’m going to go rock back and forth in a corner now.

peace out

I can’t just leave well enough alone, so I’m going to jump in and stir the pot with both feet (or something):

This article came out last week, featuring the innovators of Vancouver’s Social Media scene. That’s cool – social media is the hot new bandwagon for companies to jump on, and for once I agree that it’s a useful and increasingly important thing. I don’t have an issue with the article, or the people who were featured – but the pictures are driving me crazy.

I know most of those people, whether in passing or in their underwear. They do not look like that! Take Monica (#13), for example – she is gorgeous and warm and personable, yet the pictures do not do her – or any of the others – justice. I mentioned this on Twitter, and the general consensus is that the photographers were going for “rock star aloofness” with the images, and I have a huge problem with that.

It’s SOCIAL Media. The emphasis is on the SOCIAL part. Taking glorified mug shots of people in some downright unattractive photos and saying “here are the key players in Vancouver’s Social Media scene!” is a joke, and does no favours for anyone. The Vancouver SM scene is already seen as cliquish and difficult to break into – god knows I’ve been trying for years and I’m barely above a non-entity – and these images are supposed to convey a sense of welcoming to others? I don’t see these images and think “these are the people I want to know; they can help me turn my business into a buzz word!”; I think “I would hate to meet any of these people in a dark alley”.

I don’t understand why they needed to go for aloof. Was it too much to make these “innovators” look somewhat welcoming? These are the people that others are going to look towards for the next big thing. The photographers managed to make their subjects look downright intimidating, dour and unfriendly. Maybe they were going for edgy – look at these people who are masters of social media but haha they want to punch you in the kidneys – but I just don’t get it. To me, it comes across as a big disservice to everything Social Media is supposed to stand for.

Maybe I’m too old school. Maybe I’m doing Social Media all wrong. Maybe it’s NOT about the people, but the image. To me, Social Media is about sharing information and building relationships, not mass murder and bodies chopped up with a hatchet so they fit into the freezer. But what do I know? I’m not an innovator; I’m just some girl who likes to smile and make friends.

so•cial – adjective

1. pertaining to, devoted to, or characterized by friendly companionship or relations: a social club.
2. seeking or enjoying the companionship of others; friendly; sociable; gregarious.
3. of, pertaining to, connected with, or suited to polite or fashionable society: a social event.
4. living in companionship with others or in a community, rather than in isolation: People are social beings.
5. of or pertaining to human society, esp. as a body divided into classes according to status: social rank.
6. involved in many social activities: We’re so busy working, we have to be a little less social now.

look at me, i'm an innovator!

Today I am .. uncomfortable.

My entire person is out of whack today – I’m grumpy for no discernible reason; my eyes feel like they don’t belong in my head, and there’s a hole in my sweater. I have a lot of things to look forward to, but right now I’m just anxious about everything. All I want to do is go home and hide under the covers with a cat or three. Is that so much to ask?

Ed is going on a business trip tomorrow morning. It’s a short one – he’ll be back Thursday – but I’m kind of excited about the house to myself for a couple of nights. It would be nice to pretend I have nefarious plans for that time, but I really don’t – I envision a lot of naked Pokémon (not a euphemism) and cram crafting for this Friday’s DIY Night at the MOV. Oh yeah. My life is a thrill a minute.

I will revisit the internet when I am in a better frame of mind and/or as soon as something ridiculous happens.

My panties are in a knot for the following reasons:

• I am trying to design some new business cards so I will have them in time for Northern Voice, but my creative juices are as dry as my mouth
• Dry mouth
• Massive sewer line construction going on outside my building
• .. until September
• Interference of a mysterious nature has caused both sets of computer speakers to transmit nothing but feedback
• I have to use a wired keyboard because the abovementioned interference is killing my wireless keyboard signal
• Ed is going to a wedding in May that completely fucks up my vacation plans:
  • I don’t WANT to go in June; I love vacationing in May
  • Most places still offer off-season pricing in May, so looking to book for June means more money
• I’m hungry
• WAH
• harumph.

I spent my afternoon cutting vaginas out of magazines and baking cookies. How about you?

the first batch of cookies made with a "special ingredient" (that's right: love)

I’ve been suffering from a really dry mouth lately, and it’s starting to freak me out. I did some research on the internet, and it seems that the top four causes of dry mouth are:

• being old
• marijuana
• antidepressants
• antihistamines

We can rule the first one out – I am not elderly, damnit – but the other three .. well, it looks like I should just get used to the dry mouth. I am not happy about it – among the side effects are a sudden intolerance for spicy foods – but I LOVE my antidepressants and antihistamines. I shan’t give them up; not for anything.

Batch #2 are done!

I couldn’t make it the whole day – something about a Twilight-themed Comic Sans blog at MY URL made me shudder with pure horror every time I glanced this way.

Happy April!

I must have gloated about my Thursday off a little too loudly, because the universe is paying me back in the form of a massive headache that is threatening to turn into a festive Easter migraine. I’m trying a 4-pronged attack – water, caffeine, Advil and food – to try and beat it into submission, but as of right now, the only part of me I can move without a significant amount of pain are my fingertips. Good for typing; not so great for the grandiose plans I had for the day.

Our building might be haunted! Ghosts would be way better than the logical alternative – I let criminals into the building so they could commit crimes – but no one is really sure what happened. Two nights ago, my phone rang after midnight – it was the front door. I answered it, and a lady said “This is the Vancouver Police; can you buzz us into the building?”. I was asleep and the voice was polite but authoritative, so I let her in. She buzzed again a minute later, asking if there was any way I could let her into the parkade. There isn’t, and I said so – I’d have to come down with my fob and let them in manually. The “police” said not to worry about it; they’d find another way. I went back to sleep.

I told Ed the next morning, who stopped just shy of accusing me of being an accomplice to a roving gang of police-impersonating hooligans  and that it would serve me right if the “police” turned out to be hipster hooligans who touched Lola all over and maybe stole her. I wasn’t worried before, but now I was panicking – hipster hooligans would LOVE Lola! What if she’s gone?! It would be all my fault and Vespa would never let me adopt another because I’m an irresponsible rider! Noooooo! It didn’t help matters at all when he questioned why the cops would buzz me and not him, since he’s first on the intercom list and I’m second (maybe they were looking for a foreign-sounded name and hoping to prey on cultural confusion? That’s racist AND sneaky!) – I spent my morning shower in a lather of dread and bubbles.

The Troll was in the lobby on his way out, and he stopped to tell her. To make matters worse, it seems that SHE is the sole police contact for the building and if there are any issues, they’re to contact her and not a random tenant. It was looking more and more like racist hipster hooligans attempting to zergrush our parkade, and it was all my fault. She said she’d check with her police contact and review the security tapes, just in case.

I don’t know what happened with the contact, but she had some startling news for Ed this morning – they checked the tapes from that night, and there was nothing. No racist hooligans , no police, no nothing – no one buzzed anyone at any time. He came upstairs to confirm the time with me, and I showed him my phone – two calls from the front door, the first at 12:10 and the second at 12:11. The calls DID happen – but were they from beyond the grave?! Do ghosts ride scooters? Maybe I’ll buy a lock for Lola.

Weird stuff. Maybe we’re built on an Indian burial ground! Having a poltergeist would be awesome – think of the stories!

I’m going to be really disappointed if there’s a logical reason for all this.

Hey BC Lottery Corp, why don’t you rape and pillage my childhood a little more:

i am full of angry!

I hate you SO HARD. This is me being denied my allowance even after I cleaned the house from top to bottom all over again.

If I believed in hell, I would be going there: this article is bad and the man is terrible and it’s good he got caught and blah blah blah safety cakes – but damn if I didn’t laugh really, really hard. Let’s try and work out his thought process:

“Hey, I like doing terrible things to kids”
“Maybe I should just get my own kid”
“I can’t give birth to one, since I am a man and incapable of relationships with women”
“I know, I’ll BUY one!”
“Wait, the government is after me? I better flee!”
“I should change my name, too – they’ve sent out an international APB for ‘Patrick Lamontagne’”
“I KNOW! I’ll change my name to ‘Patrick MOLESTI’! Heh heh, they’ll never catch on!”
“I am so smart. Now, where them child-selling bitches at?”

Creativity fail!

Today is my Friday, and I couldn’t be happier. I took Thursday off in a fit of defiance – my boss asked me to update that flow chart one time too many – so I have a lovely 4-day weekend ahead of me. I plan to make some Smuttons in preparation for next Friday’s DIY night, bake some cookies, and catch Pokemans.

Oh, and also worry myself sick. I was feeling foolishly brave earlier this month, and on a lark I decided to fill out a speaker submission for Northern Voice. Unfortunately, they didn’t realize I was totally kidding and they accepted my submission. Now I’ll be giving a 30-minute presentation on how I’m terrified of everything, in front of a room full of people I am afraid of. Yeah, this was an excellent idea on my part. I may have to do the speech in a corset – the only time I’m not afraid of everything is when I look like a 2-bit tramp from the late 1800s. What have I gotten myself in to?

I’ll share more details when my summary has been submitted and posted (and when I don’t chicken out of the entire thing), but for right now it’s all I can do to not run screaming into the streets in a blind panic.

breathe deeply into the pretty flower

nine years

four thousand one hundred three posts

one million six hundred twenty thousand words

nine tattoos

three cities

four cats

six jobs

three scooters

four designs

zero sponsorship

one hundred percent of my soul

happy birthday, delicious juice dot com