Yesterday was one of the strangest days I’ve ever had in my life. The Fountain of WTF peaked around 5pm, when I was interviewed at CBC for Connect with Mark Kelley – you can check it out below; my segment starts around 8:30 mark (but the whole show is great; lots of talk about the riots and people who tried to help during it).

Incidentally, it’s hard to get a screen cap with my name (spelled right this time!) in which I do not look like some sort of tool.

i'm a blogger!

Some things to note:

• Isn’t my hair awful? I cut it myself the night before. In retrospect, if I had known I was gonna be on TV, I might have put the scissors down.
• I’m wearing the same dress I was wearing the LAST time I was on CBC – how gauche!
• No, I can’t say that last sentence with a straight face, and I find it utterly hysterical that it’s something I can utter at all – my life is ridiculous
• Dude, they covered my boobs with a banner! I suppose that’s for the best – again, if I had known I was going to be on TV I might have worn something a little more demure
• Oh, who am I kidding – I’d probably have shown up looking like this
• It’s my birthday! Happy birthday to me!

I’ve got birthday things to do now, but I’ve got a follow up post about the rioters I featured below a-brewin’ in my head – I’ll try to get that up later today. A lot of stuff has unfolded in the last 36 hours, and it’s all fascinating (in a voyeuristic kind of way).

Who is this YouTube-link-posting fiend I have turned into? I do not even know. At any rate, the following video made me laugh so hard I cried. Actual tears! On my face! creggerca, you are a genius of epic proportions and I would like to lick your guitar shake your hand.

So, so, so much love and hilarity.

You know, now that I’ve got the world’s attention, I really feel like I ought to use my power for good instead of evil (or for evil instead of good, depending on which side of the debate you’re on). No pressure, or anything. This is my 15 minutes! Where’s my soapbox?

..

um

.. yeah, I got nothing.

How about I just post utterly unrelated content instead?

I know this video is from 2007 and is therefore, in internet terms, older than dirt itself – but I literally (not fake literally, either – actual literally) got goosebumps while watching it.

Man oh man, I love me some Optimus Prime.

the moist-maker!

NMA TV is a Taiwanese-based news organization that makes Sims-style animated movies of various events in the news, and Vancouver just got their turn:

I’m not so far gone under the questionable (to some) banner of e-justice that I can’t find this absolutely hilarious, stereotypes and all!

I realize that I unintentionally upset a lot of people with my “Real Vancouverites” label, so it’s time to do some ‘splainin’:

The 60,000 of you who have read those words in the last 20 hours or so – hello, by the way – don’t know me, or spend any time inside my head. What seems to you like a cruel dig at the ‘burbs really isn’t, because that’s not how I roll. I could spend paragraphs trying to make you see my brain matter, but it’s not yet 8am, I haven’t had any Diet Coke, I’m naked and wet from the shower, and I’m really regretting last night’s spontaneous home haircut .. so you’re just going to have to take my word for it.

“Real Vancouverites” had nothing at all do to with geography, and everything to do with pride (and taxes). I’m proud to live in Vancouver, and that pride – plus a very strict moral code and tiny little elf hands that couldn’t flip a car if they tried – is what stops me from doing things like rioting, destroying property, lighting cars on fire, and running people over with my scooter (although that last one is harder to avoid with every Mercedes that tries to run me off the road). The rioters? They don’t care about this city. They just wanted to cause some trouble, have some “fun”, and maybe show their friends how cool they are what with all the awesome pictures people took of them. They are not who I think of when I think of the people who make up Vancouver, the Lower Mainland, BC. They don’t embody the spirit of our city – THESE people do. These are the people who are “Real Vancouverites”, regardless of where they actually live. They’re what make our city great, and are the ones who deserve to live in this awesome, amazing part of the world.

So, why make such a big deal about the rioters not being from Vancouver proper? Taxes, man. My knowledge of where my tax money goes pretty much ends at paying my many parking tickets, but these carpetbaggers (I really just wanted to use that term again; it’s great) live – and pay taxes – in Richmond, Maple Ridge, Delta. Okay, maybe some of the property tax their parents pay go towards keeping Vancouver beautiful, but I bet most of it goes to the town they postally live in. Hell, Water Polo Dick Douche lives in Calgary. He doesn’t pay squat in Vancouver. He isn’t FROM here, in every sense of the word.

Next on my Lucy Docket: naming names. See the part of the post below where I fully admit that vengeance is not pretty? Well, there you go. Yeah, I’m rotten enough to want their acts to follow them around. Other people gain notoriety for far worse or ridiculous reasons; why shouldn’t this be the same? People are asking me if I would want my dirty laundry aired for all to see – um, it already is. Again, you’re new here – but I’ve been blogging here for YEARS (ten of them!), and I. Share. EVERYTHING. Also, I’m not an asshole and don’t have any humiliating acts of vandalism following me around. The worst thing the Wayback Machine has on me is the fact that my very first webpage ever was written in Comic Sans – embarrassing, but wouldn’t keep me from getting employed (as anything other than a designer or typesetter). If you don’t do shameful, cowardly things, they won’t follow you around. It’s that simple.

The information I posted last night is widely available for anyone with the gumption to do a little digging. I had nothing to do last night, so I dug and dug and then I wrote in a fit of righteous ire and also a cape. *I* didn’t out these people, their actions did. I consilodated the information, added some snark to it, and made a post on my blog. Did I expect my internets to blow up like this? Of course not. Am I regretting my post? Oh HELL naw. That’s not how I roll. I’m good at rolling, too. Optimus Prime taught me.

I might be Batman in my head, but I am just one small round girl on the internet with fast fingers and the mouth of a sailor. If my information is proven to be wrong, I will gladly remove it and post several flowing odes in honour of those I did done wrong. If I’m right, though .. well, free speech and the power of SEO and all that good stuff. I didn’t post anything that isn’t ALL OVER THE INTERNET. I just made it accessible. I’m like a wheelchair ramp. Why are you yelling at a wheelchair ramp?

Lastly, I’m trying very hard not to think about the cold, hard fact that this is the most exposure my blog will likely ever have, in all 10+ years of existence – and it’s not because of anything awesome I did or wrote, but because some jackhole dick douche idiots had to go and wreck the city I love. That’s sobering and depressing (but I’ll still take it). After all, I’m only human.

this is my vancouver

I’m honest enough with myself to know that, deep down, I’m cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs and also karmic retribution. Vengeance isn’t a pretty trait, but sometimes it’s just so satisfying that I shiver with flavour and tiny little orgaslettes. Like now! Facebook pages fade away, but I have over ten years of content online and meticulously groomed and I never, ever forget!

I figure we could all use some good news, so here:

photo credit: unknown

This fine young gentleman is Jason Li of Richmond BC. There are numerous claims that he was actually a hero and was trying to stop the destruction, but many videos prove otherwise and show him breaking the window of the BMO downtown. Jason attends – or possibly attended, as there are rumours that he was expelled at the instant of his arrest – McRoberts Secondary. In addition to being an Air Cadet, he is also an amateur actor:

He was caught this afternoon at school, where he shall live on in infamy:

from the McRoberts Secondary page on Wikipedia

Good work, everyone.

But that’s not all!

photo credit: unknown

Meet Nathan Kotylak from Maple Ridge, BC! Nathan, while not lighting cop cars on fire in downtown Vancouver, is a star water polo player who attends the University of Calgary on a scholarship. He’s the son of a doctor, and an Olympic hopeful. Here’s what he looks like when he isn’t committing cowardly acts of destruction in my city:

This photo, and the accompanying article, appeared in newspapers all over the Lower Mainland less than two months ago. How far Nathan has come since then!

photo credit: unknown

This is Brydon Harker, who attends Delta Secondary. Brydon would like you to please not judge him for his actions, because the window was already broken and he just made a “drunk mistake”. I’m sure we can all forgive him, right? After all, boys will be boys!

There are HUNDREDS of these. I could go on all night. I want these people to be forever tied to their actions last night; for their names to be known by everyone who loves this city – Vancouver, where NONE OF THESE PEOPLE ARE FROM – and to be made to pay for their crimes. And they will. And I am just human enough to know that the thought of their humiliation for years to come makes me REALLY, REALLY HAPPY.

I’m sure you’ll forgive my vengeful fantasies – it’s just a drunk mistake!

I spent most of yesterday afternoon chasing around doctors and remedies to cure me of all my ailments and woes, and I feel better – not because the drugs have kicked in and I’m cured, but because I Took Steps towards fixing myself. Taking Steps is important; almost as important as the medication itself. It’s a heck of a lot better than wallowing, at any rate.

It was decided that I would gradually increase my daily dose of crazy pills until I got my happy back; 37.5mg at a time. If the first increase does nothing, we go up again. If I’m still staring blankly at walls, then we try something else – Prozac or Paxil, or other, newer drugs that all sound like boner pills. My boners are fine, thank you very much. Just fix my brain, and everything else will happen naturally.

I’m now taking 8 pills a day, which is depressing to me. To be fair, 5 of those are vitamins – at the advice of various people, I’m taking a metric assload of vitamin D along with vitamin B complex (a complicated version of regular old vitamin B). I’m also taking my omnipresent antihistamine, and then the two crazy pills – so it’s not all THAT bad; I just feel old because I really ought to be using one of those daily pill organizers to keep everything straight. I wonder if they make Hello Kitty ones? That’s a silly thought – of COURSE they make Hello Kitty ones; I just need to find them. To eBay!

I also addressed the ongoing issue of zombie face to the doctor. After peering at my face, he declared me to be gross but salvageable and wrote me a prescription for two +4 Dire Creams. Both ointments came with big instruction sheets and scary warnings saying “don’t use this cream” “if you have to use this cream, make sure your estate is in order” “for the love of god, wash your hands after using this cream” “better yet, burn your hands completely. cut them off and burn them, and don’t breathe the smoke.” “you are utterly screwed”. I figure I don’t really have much to lose – I’ve already got some wicked discolouration going on in my facial areas; what’s the worst that could happen? I’d get even whiter? I’m already the most non-Asian Asian I know. I am not concerned.

So, we’ll see. Maybe I’ll start feeling better in a week or so, and if I don’t, then I’ll take more meds until I do and/or go back for new drugs. This wasn’t exactly what I meant when I said I wanted some adventure, but if I get back to my normal self, everything is an adventure.

When I got to work this morning, the new programmer gave me some Diet Coke coz my birthday is on Saturday, and I found my goatse ring. It was under my desk, which is a truly stupid place for it to be. I’m glad I have it back – I missed it, and was sad that it was potentially lost forever.

i take a couple uppers i down a couple downers

goatse!

I’m working from home today, because I am too depressed for clothing. I’m too depressed for a lot of things right now, with the only exception being the 1000 yard stare – I am really good at staring blankly at things. I wasn’t able to get an appointment with the 75-second doctor today, but I have one tomorrow. I plan on bringing up two issues; the first obviously being that I am more or less dead on the inside and that sucks, and also please refer me to a dermatologist so I can get rid of this goddamn zombie face already.

Being depressed sucks ass for a thousand reasons, but here is a handy list of how this round of How Low Can You Go is affecting me right now:

• All I want to do is sleep
• I don’t feel anything: I am not sad or happy or excited or bored or content or outraged. I am not anything. I just .. am. I’m breathing and typing and I have to pee, but I don’t feel a single goddamn thing beyond that. It’s almost funny, because this whole “feeling like a zombie” thing is a common fear when starting an antidepressant regime – I know I was sure afraid of losing my out-of-control anger and deep unrelenting sadness, because I thought that’s all I was. Of course, the instant you start feeling better, you realize how much joy you’ve been missing out on and life starts being awesome again. And yet here I am, on all the meds ever (note: I am barely on any meds at all, which might be part of the problem), and I feel nothing. It’s actually worse this time, because I remember what feeling good feels like, and I really miss it.
• I keep losing important things, like my scooter cup holder and my goatse ring
• I don’t care about anything, which is likely tied into not feeling anything
• I have all the creativity of a turnip. Some people, while depressed, can be amazing – produce works of art and have effects and disorders named after them. Me, not so much – and that’s another symptom, because the thought of trying to produce my magnum opus while depressed is technically hilarious and my brain tells me that this is normally something I would be all over with great melodramatic flair, but I can’t be bothered. I never can’t be bothered to do something when the hilarity center of my brain is triggered, but here we are
• Want to know how bad this is? I’m so depressed that I can’t muster anything beyond mild, passing disgust for the people up in arms that liquor stores are closing at 4pm today for game 6 (something else I should be excited for but totally am not). Being full of righteous ire at drunken idiots is practically my raison d’etre, but right now it’s just making me tired
• Ed is away on a business trip until Wednesday, but I am missing my usual excitement at a whole bed to myself, unrestrained Hobble lovin’ and sausages for dinner
• thiiiiiiiis suuuuuuuuucks
• See? Sylvia Plath wrote The Bell Jar, Virginia Wolfe wrote A Room of One’s Own, and all I have is “thiiiiiiiis suuuuuuuuucks”. I am so annoyed at myself
• Hey, that’s something: annoyed! I feel annoyed! Sweet jebus, I’m cured!

I hope I’m back to my normal self by my birthday on Saturday – if not, I’m going to feel really pissed off nothing at all.

birds

Cave Johnson’s Lemon Rant from Portal 2 needed to be a ring tone.

So, now it is.

This version doesn’t have GlaDOS moaning in the background; if you want that you have to make it yourself.

We’re done here.