Category Archives: everyday kimli

full circle

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When Ed and I first started dating, I cooked a lot for him. I like cooking, he likes eating, so it made sense. I was very poor then, so I cooked a lot of simple meals: eggs. A lot of eggs. Fancy eggs and breakfasts for dinner, but always eggs. Ed used to say my eggs tasted like love, and that was cute and sweet and d’awwww.

Years passed and I still cook a lot, but it’s less “trying to get him naked via food” and more “well, we gotta eat”. Lately though, Ed’s taken to making breakfast for both of us on weekends – fancy scrambles with eggs and tasty things and a heaping side of salsa and too much pepper, just the way I like it. It’s awesome and I feel very spoiled, and .. it tastes like love. I totally get it. Eggs = love.

:)

sexy blog post costume

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Megan posted this site on Twitter, and I’ve spent the better part of my morning in sheer awe of the number of things you can get “sexy” versions of for Halloween costumes. Seriously, I was full-on prepared to hate the idea that Halloween is simply a reason to dress in skin-tight, cleavage-baring outfits (when that shit should be done EVERYDAY), but then I started to really look at the options available beyond the traditional “sexy witch” “sexy cat” “sexy nurse” “sexy sex-haver” stuff and was amazed:

Board Games

  • Sexy Scrabble: This well read gal loves to play more than just word games. He’ll be dying to show off his large…vocabulary when he sees you in the Scrabble Sexy Deluxe Costume which includes: A glossy game board screen-printed dress featuring a fabric tile trim, matching tile bracelets and a petticoat for a little extra bounce.
  • Sexy Operation: Play Doctor in a whole new way! Get ready to play doctor in this Operation Sexy Adult Costume! Costume includes one yellow, red, and white dress printed with Operation symbols, matching fingerless gloves, and red character nose on a stick.
  • Sexy CandyLand

Movies that Don’t Really Lend Themselves to Costumes OR Sex

  • Silence of the Lambs: A sexy lady gone psycho! Clarice has nothing on this cannibalistic sexy psychopath! Transform into a riddle chanting killer babe this Halloween. The Silence of The Lambs Sexy Adult Costume includes a white fitted straight jacket style dress with attached arm ties.
  • Halloween: A truly sexy psychopath! You wont have to chase your next victim down they will be lined up waiting for you! Transform into a sexy version of a horrific killer this Halloween! The Halloween – Sexy Michael Myers Adult Costume includes a fitted blue zip front jumpsuit.
  • Friday the 13th: Not your average camp counselor. Camp Crystal Lake’s savage and scintillating co-ed heats up those Halloween nights in the Sexy Ms. Voorhees costume. Jason’s hockey jersey has been re-designed to hug your curves and seduce your victims into submission. Red stripe trim, classic “Jason” insignia, screen-printed “Voorhees – 13” on the back and a V-neckline are all features that put a sassy twist on this Friday the 13th costume favorite. A Jason Hockey Mask handbag* is also included to stash all of your slasher essentials.
  • Robocop: Peter Weller never looked so hot.

To Hell With Your Childhood

Victims are Hot

  • Mental Ward: Drive ’em crazy in this sexy style! You’ll look insanely alluring in the Goin’ Outta My Mind Adult Costume which includes: A blood splattered stretch Bengaline two way zip front dress with elongated straight jacket sleeves and adjustable buckles with uneven hemline. A matching hat with “Mental Ward” detail and faux blood.
  • Slaughter House Survivor: The gory days. Makes you think twice about hitting up that meat market this Halloween, huh? Either way, you’ll look bloody fabulous this Slaughter House Survivor Adult Costume! Includes a black and white bloodied dress, leg garter with detachable “bloody putty” prop, bloody knife headband, torn pantyhose and 3 band aids.
  • Slasher Star: You always did want to be on the silver screen. Make your horror flick debut this Halloween in this Slasher Star Adult Costume. It’ll be a real scream! Costume includes a bloodied black and white dress, wrist bandage, “HELP!” word bubble headband and bloody knife prop.

Sexy Cultural Stereotypes 

Just Plain Disturbing

  • Dying to Please You – sexy costume, or clever social commentary? Sadly, I think it’s the former.
  • Pocahottie – .. REALLY?
  • .. every fucking thing on the site, really

There’s so many more incredulous things on this one site alone that I can’t even. I’m amused and horrified. I’m annoyed that the Sexy Scrabble costume’s board doesn’t follow traditional Scrabble rules. I’m sad there’s no Sexy Optimus Prime (but I bet I could find one elsewhere). I’m horrified at the sheer number of offensive cultural stereotype costumes in the sexy category alone. I’m .. suddenly craving candy corn (but not Sexy Candy Corn).

My head hurts.

rage and capital letters

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I like to say I got into the business of process improvement and tech writing so I can writes the rules (and know which ones to break), but the truth is far more alarming than any kind of need to thumb my nose at The Man: apparently, I’m a textbook Type A control freak.

Right now, I’m struggling with an overwhelming desire to CONTROL ALL THE THINGS. Stuff at work is a cluster fuck of New Coke proportions, and I want to roar and flip tables and TAKE OVER so I can fucking FIX IT ALREADY. It’s driving me crazy. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss structure. I miss rules and processes. I miss checklists and milestones and deliverables and deadlines and actually fucking MEETING those deadlines instead of floating along all willy nilly with my head stuffed up my ass. I am so much happier when everyone knows what to do and how to do it and we can all count on one another to do our jobs and do them well, and right now I am NOT HAPPY. I’m generally a happy person, and right now I am FULL OF RAGE AND CAPITAL LETTERS. ARGH!

I need to step away from the internet so I don’t go into further detail. I really want to. So badly. I’ve already sent many sternly worded emails outlining all the things that are going wrong that I can easily fix if you’d just let me oh I don’t know DO MY JOB. We’ll see if those help.

Next step: distributing yellow flags to the team to be raised every time someone interrupts you mid-sentence; red flags for being steamrolled.

So frustrated. So unhappy. This is not what I was expecting with my promotion.

bite the wax tadpole

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It’s dark in the car, but I don’t want to turn on a light. I don’t want to be seen. I’m hunched over in the passenger seat, trying to be as still as possible while going 120km/h – I have to be careful, or I’ll spill. Precision is the name of the game, and while my tiny elf fingers aren’t exactly known for their grace and nimblility, I steady the plate as best I can in one hand while gently working the baggie open with the other. Carefully, carefully I pour the contents out onto the flat surface and it lazily twinkles back at me; shimmering softly under the streetlights and calling to me with a knowing wink. I feel momentarily guilty, but I shake it off – my need is greater than any regrets, and I’m not hurting anyone. It’s a free country, they say. Don’t ask, don’t tell.

I hold my breath for the next step. A deep breath could send everything flying, and that would be very, very bad. I bite my lip in anticipation as I line everything up in neat rows; not exhaling until I see stars and my heart is pounding. Do I need oxygen, or the rush? I can’t tell.

Last step. One final check. Everything is ready. There’s no turning back, even if I wanted to .. which I don’t. I’ll never want to turn back.

I pick up the tray and push it home with a satisfying click. My phone comes back to life; illuminating my face in the dark of the car. I drum my fingers impatiently on my thigh as I wait for it to kick in – there. A signal. Weak at first, but grows stronger as the triumph courses through my veins. Once again, I’ve successfully changed the nano SIM for my iPhone 5, switching from my Canadian carrier to an American one and vice versa. I was without data for less than 10 minutes in total, but it felt like a million years of isolation and despair. Now that I’m connected, the world is a better place. Shinier, more friendly. Things taste better. People are more attractive. And if they’re not, I can google up some people who are. I feel like myself again, but I know that it’s temporary – all too soon, I’ll have to do everything over again; a shameful secret that keeps me hidden in the shadows until the new carrier kicks in. Don’t look at me until I have the world at my fingertips. And for god’s sake, don’t fucking sneeze.

doesn’t belong in the ear

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As I tossed and turned my way through yet another sleepless night, worried that someone had replaced my ear drops with poison in an attempt to murder me Hamlet style, I realized that I may in fact be getting sick. That is unfortunate, even without the ear poison. I’ve managed to avoid the plagues and viruses that have ensnared most of my social circle for the past few months (the one good thing about most of our interactions taking place online), but I think this latest and greatest disease may have me in a clammy grip of distorted vision, non-stop headaches, and general aching. Normally I’d start whining that I really don’t have time for this, but let’s be honest: there isn’t a hell of a lot going on in my life right now other than catastrophic disappointment and failure, so a cold might be a welcome change.

How are things? Frankly, things have been much, much better. I’m trying to keep my chin up (mostly so I don’t walk into doors), but it’s difficult. There’s so much I want to scream and shout about, but I can’t probably shouldn’t, so instead I am vague and frustrating and frustrated and constipated from all this angst I have going on. I am trying very hard not to know that this Wednesday will mark 8 years since my dad’s mysterious death, that this time last year I was four days away from two weeks in London, that I am both yearning for and afraid of success, that I desperately want to bite off more than I can chew but no one will throw me a bone. I miss Sasha. I miss London. I miss video games. I miss sleep. I miss perks.

Things will get better one way or another, but when I’m already not feeling very well it’s so easy to wallow instead of being upbeat and chipper. So, I’m going to embrace it: today, I am sad and discouraged and hopeless. Tomorrow, I will be better. Things will change. Stuff will be good. We shall overcome.

Also, owning these would help me get over this little pity party I’m having today:

i likely won't be able to walk, but godDAMN i will look awesome

i likely won’t be able to walk, but godDAMN i will look awesome

You can tell I am super sad, because I am looking at shoes.

tick tick tick boom

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Five years ago today (and many more times since then but I’m only speaking to this particular instance), I was on my back with my legs in the air while a stranger fiddled around with my insides; preparing my womb for the installation of a time-sensitive Doomsday Device: the Mirena IUD. This Weapon of Sperm Destruction has been quietly working away all up in my business, blasting foolhardy sperm into oblivion and protecting my carefree, pointless existence from the ongoing threat of responsibility and purpose. Go ahead and splash my cervix with the most potent of your man juices: I laugh at your ejaculate! I sneer at your seminal fluid! Your mightiest warriors of procreation are no match for the chemical wasteland that is my uterus; all spermatozoa look on my works, be mighty, and despair!

Unfortunately, all wonderful things must come to an end: the Mirena has a 5-year lifecycle, and as of an hour or so ago, I am in immediate danger of pregnancy. Even as I type this, I am calmly dodging a steady stream of sperm coming from all directions, trying to take advantage of my vulnerable state. The joke’s on them, though: while the Mirena has a recommended lifespan of 5 years, it apparently will work just fine for up to seven years. I did a bunch of panicked research this morning when I realized my blinking red palm flower was about to go solid black; fully anticipating some sort of explosion followed by a swarm of babies, but .. nothing. I am safe.

You’ll never convince ME that having a foreign hostile object all up in my quivering velvet is a bad idea. IUD? More like IUDeeeeelightful!

Thanks, I’ll be here all week.

poison for profit

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I need Botox, because my face is highly problematic.

I’m not particularly worried about wrinkles or aging – I’m just enough Asian to look 30 until I’m 65, and wrinkles are caused by sun which is only outside – but I need to freeze my face into a neutral or happy expression, and Botox is the least harmful (as non-harmful as injecting neurotoxins into your skin can be) option I can think of, assuming that Joker “Smilex” drug from the first Michael Keaton Batman movie (except maybe without all the death) isn’t available for purchase.

In my head, I’m totally mysterious and aloof. Unfortunately, the opposite is my reality: I am an open book with diagrams and Cliff Notes and cheat codes and level walkthroughs and voiceover narration provided by Morgan Freeman in a pleasing baritone, and I need to change. I could work at it and exercise my face muscles and learn to be more aware of what I look like, but that sounds like a lot of work so clearly I should just poison myself with botulisms so I am nothing but a dopey grin at all times.

Apparently, every emotion I feel and every thought I think is visible on my face. If I’m getting internally stabby, those stabby thoughts are clearly reflected for all to see. If you are stupid and I wish you would stop talking, I am unconsciously playing a game of face charades. If I think something is hilarious, I’m surreptitiously (except not) leaking glitter and rainbows all over the place. It’s no good, and does me no favours whatsoever what with the absolute lack of mystique and glamour and all.

This problematic face of mine was brought to my attention several years ago during an employee review: I’m awesome, but when I’m upset I glare and roll my eyes at things like a petulant teenager. I had no idea I was doing this (and was called a liar when I expressed amazement), but it’s true: I may FEEL those things, but I was completely unaware that the feels show up on my face. My boss at the time didn’t believe me and called me a lying liar who lies, but I really don’t think about my face at all. My thought process isn’t “I’m mad! Time to glare!” – it just happens. I was totally surprised and horrified when I found out that yes, everyone actually does know exactly what I’m thinking, and all those “secret” thoughts I have about flipping the table in a dramatic show of passion and rage are anything BUT secret.

You know it’s bad when you totally wish you had bitchy resting face instead of hyper emotional anime face.

So, where do I get a Botox? Is it something I can get at 7-11?

bring on september

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Well, that didn’t go as planned.

We were to leave for Seattle around noon on Thursday, but just before zero hour, Ed informed me he was sick. I was torn between sympathy and rage, with rage and self-pity winning the battle (I am a flawed individual and the world’s worst nurse). After waffling back and forth for almost 4 hours (“I’m fine! No wait, I feel like hell. No, I’m okay to go! Oh wait I’m going to barf. To PAX! er .. To BED!” and so on and so forth), we were on our way – I drove, while Ed was miserable and stubborn in the passenger seat. We questioned many times his ability to actually PAX and make it out alive, but he insisted on going.

We did one day of PAX, very very slowly. It was fun, but it left me wanting more – having the Saturday would have been nice, but I think I would have wanted the whole thing. Ed and I have been PAX’ing for years now (except last year), but this was the first year I actually knew other people there. Each year I try to talk my friends into going, but each year they bail so we end up doing PAX alone – fun, but ultimately lonely and kind of hollow. I’ve never been to a PAX party, have never been to a concert, have never done much more than one day of wandering .. and I’m tired of it. I didn’t realize how much I wanted to actually SOCIALIZE this year until it was taken away, and then I was sad.

We came home on Saturday, after selling our remaining passes. Ed is better – he was pretty much fine by Saturday morning, but by then it was too late to do anything about it.

I am so fucking glad August is over – it’s been just the worst month ever. I’m not normally one to wallow in disappointment, but they’ve just been non-stop for the last 5 weeks or so: never ending goodbyes at work, rejection, steamrolling, frustration, baffling references to cake and crying babies, small setbacks transforming into mega disasters, a stupid haircut that refuses to grow into something cute .. just bad times, seemingly for 31 days straight. Now it’s September, which is historically one of my favourite months .. interesting secret things are coming up, including something that might change things .. FOREVER.

Plus, those boots I ordered are awesome.

I barely saw PAX at all, but there were a few things that piqued my interest:

  • Extraction is an FPS made by the guys who did Enemy Territory, and it looks amazing. It brings back my beloved Stopwatch Mode, is set in London (albeit a sad and destroyed one), and will apparently be free to play
  • Neverending Nightmares looks CREEPY AS HELLLLLL and I love the art style. I Kickstarted it right at PAX coz I liked the creep factor so much.
  • New Adventure Time game? An RPG? OKAY!
  • Murdered: Soul Survivor looks kinda cool, and I totally got murdered
  • Maybe it started last year, but it seems like game developers FINALLY realized that nerds have a lot of money they will throw at anything containing references to their favourite games: many booths, small and large alike, had stores set up. I was pleased about this, because I was spending my sad away and also I got a Vault 101 hoodie from the Bethesda booth which I absolutely adore so good on you, game devs.
  • umm .. other stuff.

Tomorrow is Labour Day, but I’m working which is sorta appropriate (if dumb and my own fault).

what, me worry

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Another year, another PAX I am wholly unprepared for. Each year I question why I attend, and each year my reasons (beyond the omnipresent FOMO) seem to dwindle. This year, my main reason for going is downright sad: I want to collect all the Nintendo DS Streetpasses from other attendees. Show me your houses, people, so that I may purchase your furniture. All hail the Happy Home Showcase!

I really need to just hit myself over the head and try to forget about work, and getting out of town to be afraid of crowds is a good start. I’m stupidly worried about my two big projects (and several other slightly less big projects), to the point where I gave some serious thought to skipping PAX so I could stay and work. This is dumb for many reasons, but my ridiculous dedication was winning until I pulled an underhanded move on myself: I ordered new boots from Amazon and sent them to Ali’s place. If I don’t go to PAX, I don’t get my new boots (um and the 80 coconut bars and BMO figurine that somehow also ended up in my cart). Since new boots easily trumps my worrying that the universe will fall apart if I’m not there to be angry, I will go to PAX. I am easily manipulated by myself (and I may have volunteered to work the holiday Monday so we don’t fall even further behind).

I need to turn off my brain for a few days; enjoy PAX and new boots and Seattle. After all, next week is going to be even more challenging .. so why waste all this excellent worrying now, when I’ll have so much more to do later?

I think I may be turning into an ulcer.