Category Archives: everyday kimli

running theme

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Two in a row! I’m breaking records like Suresh Joachim!

App the 2nd

DLDungelot

Universal
Genre: Old-School Dungeon Crawler
Sale Price: Free

Dungelot is a casual dungeon crawler that you can play on the bus or while pooping (eww). It’s fun, easy, entertaining, and currently free – frankly, there are far worse things you could be doing with your spare time (like pooping) (eww).

Trivia the 2nd

Everyone knows Peter Cullen is the voice of Optimus Prime (because I keep bringing it up over and over again). However, even if you weren’t obsessed with Transformers in the 80s like some people and watched cartoons at some point, you’ve likely heard his voice. Cullen had/has a prolific career as a voice actor, and showed up in almost every cartoon shown on Saturday mornings at one point or another, such as Dungeons and Dragons (alongside the other Voice of the 80s, Frank Welker) and Dragon’s Lair.

Confession the 2nd

I’ve never actually played Dungeons and Dragons. I realize I’ll lose nerd cred for this confession, but let’s face it – I’ve got so much damn nerd cred that I can spare a little. Still, I have shame. I should fix this.

thirty days of ..

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So, I’m going to attempt NaBloPoMo this year. In the past, it’s always been kind of pointless because I posted every damn day to begin with .. but since I’ve dialed back my blog posting this year, trying to go 30 days straight will actually be somewhat of a challenge. A pointless challenge partnered with an exercise in futility and internet egotism, but still. CHALLENGE!

Even if I’ve neglected my blog a little this year, I didn’t want to simply post random “I’m cold/sad/hungry/bored/radioactive/on the good ship Lollipop” updates to make it through November – that’s cheating, and also pretty lame. Instead, I will attempt to write some Actual Content for thirty days – and not just content about how far my head is stuffed up my own ass, but stuff that may actually be of interest to others (alongside the head-up-ass stuff – I’m not trying to change the world, here). Unfortunately, I don’t really know a lot about anything at all that could actually be useful to anyone .. but I’ll share what I’ve got: a lot of app suggestions, a ridiculous amount of Transformers-related trivia, and some deep, dark secrets that I will share. 30 Days of Random Ass Stuff! What could possibly go wrong?

Here we go!

App the 1st

KC2


King Cashing 2

Universal
Genre: Slot Machine RPG, with Zombies
Sale Price: $0.99

King Cashing 2 is unlike any other game I’ve ever played. It’s a comic-book-style turn-based RPG with a slot-machine mechanic, and you play as the zombie(s). You get a limited number of turns (spins), and .. well, it’s hard to explain. I CAN tell you that it’s hilarious and it sucks you in and it’s a steal for $0.99, so take a look if you’re tired of crushing candy or flinging birds into the marketing ether. Is good fun. Go now.

Trivia the 1st

The 1986 Transformers movie was the final film made by Orson Welles (Unicron) AND Scatman Crothers (Jazz). While Unicron died in the movie (um, spoilers I guess), Jazz did not .. but because his voice actor died (Crothers also voiced Jazz in the cartoon series), the film marked the last time Jazz spoke. He was briefly seen in later cartoon episodes, but never had any lines.

Confession the 1st

I don’t like Sriracha sauce. I grew up with my mother dousing all her food in that stuff, and the smell of Sriracha reminds me of undiagnosed mental health issues and instant ramen. No thank you.

I can totally keep this up for 30 days. Only 29 to go!

horselain

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For all my mouth-foaming at the myriad of ridiculous/offensive “sexy” Halloween costumes available, I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I actually did go out and buy one for myself; complete with “sexy” label and ridiculous double entendres. Shame or not, I stand by my assertion that my costume shouldn’t really count as such for the following reasons:

  • I’ve got regular clothes that are way, way more risque
  • It’s actually really cute and something I would totally wear for not-Halloween
  • I don’t want to be Girl Mario for the third year in a row
  • Everyone tells me “Sexy Tech Writer” isn’t an actual costume

Sure, I will spend my Thursday freezing my ass off and being terribly self-conscious that my skirt is too short and I’m not showing enough boob, but what’s Halloween if not an excuse to dress in cheap, flammable material laden with inconsistencies and velcro?

Also, I am nothing if not helpful: if there happens to be a cute girl looking for a free room in Yaletown, you may be interested in this Craigslist ad. It’s not creepy at all, and is a perfect opportunity for anyone who is:

  • Cute
  • A girl
  • Doesn’t mind sharing a room with a “nice proffesional guy in [his] 30s”
  • Wants to also be friends (hang out)
  • Is thrustworthy and cute
  • Wants to live in a high rise apartment with lots of amenities
  • Is named Roxanne
add "thinks Yaletown is on East Pender" to the list above

add “thinks Yaletown is on East Pender” to the list above

There are thousands of delusional ads like this on Craigslist, but in my heart of hearts I hope that “thrustworthy” was an intentional addition and not just a typo because it is sheer perfection.

I wonder if I could rent out my Lady Cave in the same manner? FREE ROOM FOR NAKED MAN must like to cross swords and do helicopters for my amusement plz be thrustworthy.

delinquent

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I am the worst delinquent ever.

I had to replace my bank card last week due to compromised situations, so I was issued a temporary card until the new one arrived. Unfortunately, in that time I also managed to forget my online banking password .. which you can’t reset unless you have your bank card handy. I was locked out of the online financial world, which meant I couldn’t pay my bills on time (they always get paid on the 15th because I am punctual like that). I had been stressing out a little about this, because even though my bills are never paid late, I figured Shaw and Rogers would immediately assume I was on the lam and never going to pay up and turn off every single internet I have. This would be an utter disaster (and frankly a recurring nightmare of mine), so as soon as my new bank card arrived in the mail, I got my online banking access sorted out so I could pay my bills.

I’m just paranoid enough that after I paid the bills, I logged into the services online to make sure they hadn’t covered my accounts in blinking red warnings. It was then that I learned that the bills I had sort of agonized over for the past week thinking I was seconds away from my home being repossessed .. aren’t actually due until the 27th of this month.

All that excellent worrying, wasted. When did I become so responsible? Back in the day an unpaid bill way a way of life, not a reason to panic. I feel like I need to go write some swears on the wall, just to make up for what a disappointment I must be to my teenaged self.

Also, this is my new favourite thing in the whole world and never fails to make me laugh myself silly:

keeping secrets

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Sorry about the passworded post below – just protecting myself. Hit me up on the internet somewhere if you’d like the password; I will most likely give it to you. Blocking the world to keep out half a dozen seems silly, but better safe than sorry and other similar old world adages about spilt milk and salt and babies.

By way of apology for this annoying secrecy, here is a picture of a duck:

quack quack

quack quack

dreamthink

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There are three things I want very much, and any one of the three would make the other two impossible or at least highly problematic. How do I decide?

For the sake of Science, let’s assume that whichever thing(s) I choose I can do without hassle (because all I’m really doing is entertaining high fantasy anyway). There are many logistical things like “money” and “details” and “Ed” that would require sorting out, but this isn’t a depressing exercise in realism: it’s 100% thought masturbation. As long as we’re all on the same page about that, I can count on everyone to not be so rude as to introduce facts and logic and cold water to my wishful thinking, right?

So, here’s the situation: I turn fucking 40 next June. If I drank, I’d be drinking right now: even admitting to MYSELF how old I am makes me queasy; blurting it out to the internet at large makes me want to throw up and cry. I am old. This depresses me.

To help me forget my extreme elderly state and so I can enjoy the little time I have left on this planet, I have decided I need to do something special for my birthday. Really special. “Common sense and consequences be damned” special. After all, I only turn so, so, so old once, so I may as well enjoy it in a way that is much more spectacular and memorable than tacos and cake for dinner.

I have three spectacular and memorable things specifically in mind:

KITTY
I miss Sasha. I know that I can never replace her, but I also know that none of our current cat army are “mine” – I miss having a cat who adores me and wants to be all up in my area at all times. To that end, I want to adopt a calico cat or kitten. I know there’s no guarantee that I’ll have another Sasha-like relationship, but getting another calico (who’ll be female coz that’s how they work) would be a big comfort to me. Since I’ll be turning so incredibly old, being comforted would be nice. It would go well with my dinner at 4pm and slipper shuffling.

PUG
I still very much want a pug. In fact, I had previously set up a deadline of “pug by 40”. I don’t know if Ed still thinks I’m joking or if he’s ignoring the issue in the hopes I don’t make it to the deadline, but I’m very serious: I want a dog (preferably a pug but I will also accept a French Bulldog) and I want one next June and there is no negotiation about this. I have been waiting for my pug for a VERY LONG TIME. Enough stalling; make with the dog already. PUG.

LONDON (and maybe other parts of Europe too but let’s face it mostly London)
You may not know this, but I very much like London and I would like to go back. It seems fitting to me that I celebrate my descent into doddering senility in my favourite place of all for a long time – all of June, actually. I want to birthday like I’ve never birthday’d before by spending the entire month overseas, living a ridiculous life of European splendor and Instagram photos of old buildings. Some idle research on my part showed me that this is not that outrageous a thing to want: I could do it quite easily, and for far cheaper than I thought. It’s also the easiest thing of all on my birthday list to do, and the thing I want most of all .. right now. Ask me again in ten minutes, and my answer will change.

Any of those things would make for a giddily happy birthday to me. Using my pretend science (hell, even using real logic and facts), not a single one of my potential birthday plans are impossible or even all that difficult. I could throw caution to the wind and demand all three, but that’s just greedy: I’d settle for one. But which one? I can’t decide. Taking a crazy trip seems like the obvious winner, but would that come at the expense of my insane longing for a dog? If I got a dog, I wouldn’t be able to get any more cats .. but if I got another cat, I’d be putting off the dog-getting for another 15+ years. I could go to Europe for my birthday and adopt a new best friend when I return, but for reasons I am married to I don’t see that happening due to whatever anti-justification excuses come up at the time. The thought of never having a dog makes my insides hurt. The thought of no best cat friend makes my insides hurt. Not being in London now or making a concrete plan to go next year makes my insides hurt. My insides are OLD and can’t take all this strife: what do I want to do?

I CAN’T DECIDE.

Help me, internet. Grant me my ridiculous daydreaming and fear of getting old and help me figure out some fun I can work towards.

eight hours

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Attention all short, fat, half-Asian girls stomping around Vancouver in discount clothing, second-hand boots, and terrible hair; with a permanent scowl on your face as though your once-amazing job has turned into some kind of devastating Gift of the Magi/Monkey Paw nightmare and you are utterly depressed about your reality and don’t see a way out: there’s a guy named Steven somewhere downtown who would like to “do that” for eight hours straight because you are perfect and amazing and just what he wants in a woman.

Huh.

I was scowling my way to work when a guy stopped me at the corner of Dunsmuir and Hornby. He looked like any other guy you’d see downtown at 9:30 on a weekday morning – dressed on the casual side of business formal, carrying a leather portfolio, tidy haircut – a normal-looking dude. When he stopped me, I assumed he just wanted directions or to know the time .. but instead, he wanted to stop me to tell me that I was his perfect woman, and please say there’s no husband or boyfriend “doing that” *gestures to my body*. When I said I was indeed married, he was disappointed; saying he would “do me for 8 hours” because he loves everything I have going on and I am gorgeous and I should tell my husband to have sex with me for 8 hours because he would do me all day long and *aroused grunt* oh man, the things I would do to you. I laughed – what else do you do in that situation – and said thank you but I needed to get to work; all while he was insisting he would do me right and demanding my husband be told I deserve sex for 8 hours and also I am gorgeous and perfect and exactly his type mmMMmm.

So, that happened.

I know that as a feminist I should be terribly offended that a random man felt he needed to tell me I made his penis daydream about marathon sex, but I’m really not. I didn’t feel threatened or even creeped out .. it was just funny. And let’s face it – I never get hit on. I am no one’s (well, except for this guy) “type” even when I’m not a walking wall of doom, so it was kinda .. nice.

Okay, back to being depressed.

 

a series of open letters

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To the woman standing in the very long queue at Shoppers Drug Mart clearly waiting for someone to just dare to try and bypass the line so you could call him or her out indignantly in an attempt to publicly shame them but you got me instead and I was simply walking past everyone on my way out because I had just picked up a prescription: lol!

To fashion designers everywhere: please, please, PLEASE stop trimming everything in pleather. And decorating shirts with beans. And also learn to fucking spell oh my god you should be so ashamed of yourselves.

To Alexey, a guy I used to work with: Nice seeing you today!

To Domino’s Pizza: thank you very much for realizing that I probably didn’t intend to place two identical orders, and calling to confirm. Nicely done!

To anyone who wanted to buy any Diet Coke in Vancouver today: I bought it all. I’m not sorry.

To the Minibator: 48 bottles of Diet Coke is very heavy. I am sorry.

To Miley, Sinead, and Amanda: Hello. You are people I have heard of.

.. that is all.

 

making TMI seem quaint and docile

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Don’t get me wrong – I’m still angry and not planning on taking it for much longer. However, my unusually heightened emotional state of the past week may have had a little more to do with womanly hysteria than I was willing to admit: it seems I was full of the PMS. I never recognize the symptoms until I have visual confirmation, because I’ve basically forgotten how to period thanks to my superhuman delayed cycle. Instead of 5 days of fun every 4 weeks, I get one day every 18 months .. so I think I can be forgiven for not realizing when I’ve gone insane because of hormones instead of just regular insane because of stress.

To be fair, things are really lousy outside my uterus, too. The ongoing situation at work has given me stress cysts in awkward places, and one fucking ruptured today. There’s something wrong with my throat: it feels as though something’s stuck in my esophagus, and I’m constantly trying to force the nothing out which makes my gag reflex go into overdrive and then I panic a little because I can’t breathe. The stuck-in-throat feeling has been going on for about a week now, but over the last two days it’s been really problematic. If it keeps up for much longer, I’m going to have to go to the doctor. Trying to self-diagnose did no good at all, because the internet says I have several kinds of throat cancer and pregnancy, so I’m freaking out about that too. I need a haircut and a vacation. I’m worried/keyed up/excited/terrified about the future. I started biting my nails again. Work is .. complicated and disappointing. Those Prada Candy commercials are weird and dumb. My face hurts.

So there’s all that stuff, and I feel bad for complaining. Throw it all in a blender and shed a surprise uterine lining or two, and BAM: tears everywhere. Ain’t nobody got time for that!

If change is coming, I sure hope it gets here soon.