Category Archives: vroom vroom

busy as an angry bee

Posted in i'm an astronaut, vroom vroom by

I almost got sideswiped by a Mercedes SUV on my way to work today. I could go on and on about how I hate SUVs and needlessly expensive cars and idiots who don’t watch the road, thinking nothing of coming within a bumper’s width of taking someone else out – but I think I’ve said it all before. I hope he enjoyed my horn. I certainly enjoyed my near-SUV experience.

I’m endlessly busy – I owe you one real update that does not involve me hurting myself in any way, okay?

I fucking hate office politics.

now i see what you see

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People often complain about the drivers in Vancouver. Most of the time I ignore the complaints because a) what can I do about it, b) I’ve seen some stupid shit but just chalk it up to everyone who is not me sucking, and c) okay already, we get it. Today, however – well, if everyone regularly sees the shit I encountered on my lunch hour today, I take back and apologize for my eye-rolling because HOLY CRAP WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH YOU PEOPLE OUT THERE ON THE ROADS???

It is completely unnecessary for you to drive less than 20km/h down Robson when there is no traffic in front of you. I don’t care how lost you are; pull the fuck over if you need to find an address. You say you aren’t lost but are just checking out the scene and trying to be seen? a) you look like a fucking tool; b) you’re driving an un-pimped Mazda 3 that no one will look twice at, c) HURRY THE FUCK UP ALREADY AND GET OUT OF MY WAY.

Why do you hate scooters? Do you really think people will think you are super awesome if you swerve around me in disgust, almost clipping me with your awesome Porsche or your awesome Pontiac Sunbird? I’m almost glad you have no idea how much I laugh at you when I catch up and/or pass you further up the block, because I’m sure knowing that would cause your already small genitals to shrink up even further.

You, lady. In the green car. Stop checking your makeup and reading whatever it is you have on the seat beside you, and oh I don’t know, drive your fucking car. I shouldn’t have to honk at you TWICE to get you moving, just as you shouldn’t stop at a green light to check your makeup or read whatever it is you have on the seat beside you.

This one is my favourite: hey, blondie in the red Golf – I am surprised but delighted that you have been able to make it so far in this world with your four arms, given that physical defects of that nature are usually dealt with at birth. While it may be difficult for you to buy shirts that fit or avoid the stares and screams as you walk down the street, I am very happy for you’ve managed to find a niche for yourself behind, of all places, the wheel of your car. Those four arms are great – it enables you to talk on your cell phone, smoke a cigarette, shift gears, and still hold the steering wheel for safety and common sense purposes. I tip my helmet off to you, blondie with the four arms in the red Golf – your “can do!” attitude and multitasking skills you display while driving surely put my own two arms to shame.

that looks uncomfortable

Posted in i'm an astronaut, vroom vroom by

Outside smells like bacon, and I am ravenous. Our office is right across the street from a White Spot, and I guess they are having a bacon party to which we are not invited. I am sad. Sad and hungry. Surely somewhere out there, there is bacon for me.

If I were to have one complaint about my otherwise incredible, awesome, appreciated, excellent, marvelous scooter parking spot at the new Space Station, it would be this: it is awkward to retrieve my scooter at the end of the day. See, the bottom floor of our building is owned by a yoga studio. Every day at 5 when I stroll out to fetch Sally, there is a class deep in the middle of their daily yoga workout. Since the wall that I walk past and park Sally in front of is in fact a window, I have to try very hard to avoid looking the 30 or so sweaty crotches square in the eye as I do my thing. It is awkward. The yoga studio practices “hot yoga” meaning the heat is cranked and people are wearing very little. Far be it from me to ever complain about sweaty crotches, but there are so very many of them – YOU try not feeling funny when there are two dozen half fishes staring into your soul. Go on, try it. I’ll wait.

Yesterday I saw a car with “District Attorney” emblazoned across the side, and I laughed to myself – seriously, who drives a car with their job title splashed across it? Then it dawned on me that my business card does in fact say “Internet Superstar” on it, and so does my messenger bag – while it’s not on my car, it’s still a form of advertising. I officially take back my laugh, since I’m guilty of exactly the same thing. Still, I’d much rather advertise myself or some excellent form of irony instead of a brand name. I can’t remember the last time I wore an obvious brand name. I am not a human billboard, no matter how big my ass is.

I got a new messenger bag this week, but I can’t show it yet because it is not ready. Soon, though – perhaps tonight. It is truly excellent, and the hilarity will stretch long and wide – pretty much exactly like this.

I was trying to find a title for this post when I stumbled upon the Naked Yoga wiki entry. Normally I would suggest that you not try it at home, but if the option is trying it in public, then PLEASE try it in the privacy of your own home and not in my general area because wow.

baby gooses

Posted in everyday kimli, vroom vroom by

Is it bad to hope your job drastically improves to retain your sense of the happy solely because there’s a really, really good organic grocery store right behind the office? I’m eating a low-fat lemon ginger scone from Capers, and it is the best thing I’ve eaten in forever. It is so good that I have MSN’d one person and emailed another, solely to tell them about my awesome scone. I have one bite left and I am sad that it is almost gone. I may go back and buy 17 more.

I usually don’t take lunch breaks because I’m too busy and/or everyone else leaves for lunch and I wackily feel that leaving the office and phones completely deserted is a bad idea. Lately though, I’ve been taking Sally out and going for a ride when everyone else has returned – part fresh air, part food run, part sanity-returner. Yesterday I ended up in Stanley Park, and stopped to walk along a path because I saw a swan. By the time I parked and made my way down to the water, the swan was gone – but I saw geese! I love geese. I took some pictures, then walked a little further. I saw two more geese, and what looked like a rock in between them. The rock was fuzzy, so I looked closer – and it was a baby goose! A little tiny fuzzy gosling! I stopped in awe and took some pictures, and then looked to the right – there were two ducks napping, and between them – an entire puddle of baby ducks! Check out my Flickr page, but oh my god the cute was overwhelming. I took a bunch of pictures, then harassed some old people because I was so excited to see the baby animals that I had to share it with someone so I stopped an old lady and then an old tourist couple with binoculars. This, my friends, is why I’ll never leave Vancouver – there’s just something magical about being able to get lost in the forest in the middle of the city, or climb a mountain and swim in the ocean in the same day, or harass old people because there are baby ducks and not have them think you’re mugging them.

I’m doing the Scooter Dance again; that special time in a woman’s life where she has to park her scooter in ever-increasingly bizarre places in a somewhat futile attempt to avoid having to pay $10 a day for parking something that doesn’t take up more room than a bicycle. I tried street parking on Monday, and promptly got a parking ticket. Ed drove me on Tuesday, but yesterday I tried parking behind our building. The maintenance people kicked me out, saying that they back large trucks up in the parking lot and Sally will get crushed. That will never do – so today, I drove into the parking lot and through the human walkway to get to the bike racks, and locked Sally up there. I’m completely out of the way and I’ve never seen a bicycle parked there – but we’ll see. People are ridiculously hateful to scooters, it seems. Frankly, they’re just jealous.

Today is my Friday!

return of the eternal fatalist

Posted in nerd, vroom vroom by

Feels like home – I got a parking ticket yesterday. This is what I get for wondering out loud if I should take down my Wall of Shame; the city is telling me loud and clear “hell no”. The only good thing I can see about this entire stupid situation is that Cool Harbour parking tickets are less expensive than Yuppie Town – $30 instead of $40. Hooray? Damn city, where the hell am I supposed to park my scooter?

Yesterday I wrote a letter of complaint. While I do complain a lot, I rarely take action on these complaints because let’s face it, I am but one wee round girl who is about as threatening as a kitten covered in glitter. This time though, I was simply bursting with righteous ire and really had nothing better to do, so I wrote an email to Nintendo to give them the What For.

On the “Everybody Votes” channel for the Wii, some genius submitted – and somehow got approved – the question “What do Canadians say more?” with the two options being “eh” and “sorry”. What the fuck, Nintendo. Stereotyping is Not Nice. I fired off an email asking why they were picking on Canadians, and more importantly, if I were to submit a question along the lines of “what do Americans enjoy more; getting fat or shooting guns?” would it get approved. See? Not nice. Canadians are (supposedly) all polite and stuff; we’re probably the only country you could throw a blatant stereotype like that at and we wouldn’t threaten to bomb you back to the stone ages create an uproar on CNN stage a protest get really angry about it. It surprised me to see, and none of us are planning on answering the question – 4 people out of millions; THAT’LL show them who’s boss.

They are.

So, while I have a wee ass marble at Nintendo, nothing short of death by mutant hobos can stop me from me being SO EXCITED about the release of Diner Dash for the DS next week. If I had a calendar, I would totally circle the date in red. SO EXCITED!

I wonder if I’m going to be “fired” tomorrow.

this is not mine so i think i will touch it

Posted in everyday kimli, vroom vroom by

My new bruises are truly quite spectacular. The right side of my body is going to up and leave any day now – there are scars and trauma all over the place, not to mention my dislocation-happy shoulder. When I fall, I tend to land on that side. I really ought to stop doing that.

It was the stupidest thing, too.  The four of us went for an epic bike ride on Saturday, going from our place on the North Shore, around Stanley Park, along Coal Harbour, then onto the Sea Turtle back home. I didn’t fall off my bike – instead, I tripped over a curb and went SPLAT on a sidewalk. It hurt like hell, but I was more afraid that I had broken my camera since I landed on top of it like the superstar I am. It was pretty fucked up, but Josh was able to fix it and it seems to be working fine. Just another typical day in the life – stupid accidents, more bruises, and another notch on the bedpost of wtf.

The weekend wasn’t all fun and gravity, though. Yesterday Ed and I discovered a) ANTS, and b) someone had knocked or tipped Sally over in the night and badly fucked up her right panel and exhaust cover, both of which had been replaced last year thanks to the geezer who knocked her over in front of our apartment building. Sally is all scratched to hell, and I am not amused. I took a ride yesterday afternoon and noticed that my mirror had been moved, but I just figured that someone was sitting on her again. I’m not quite sure why, but everyone in my neighbourhood seems to think it’s A-OK to sit on my scooter whenever the hell they feel like it. The grubby children across the street, the idiots upstairs, the drunken yahoos from down the street and the whores they associate with – all of them have taken it upon themselves to park their asses on my scooter like it was no big deal. I fucking *hate* it when people touch my stuff. Seriously, would you sit on someone’s motorcycle to see what it was like? Open up their car and sit in the driver’s seat? Pick up the back of their truck to see how heavy it is? Why the fuck do you think it’s okay to do it to a scooter? I hate people. Finding out that Sally was knocked over did explain why I found the kickstand on TOP of a half-empty beer can, but doesn’t do much to soothe my rage.

I rode in to work today because I didn’t want to leave the scooter at home for people to fuck with. I guess I’ve officially overcome my hesitation at riding again – now I ride, and I ride with rage. Are you me? No? Then DON’T TOUCH MY SCOOTER!

Grrrr!

not o-fucking-kay

Posted in i'm an astronaut, vroom vroom by

Deep down, I knew this would happen – in my absence, every single one of my clients went brain dead and are now floundering helpless in the ditches waiting for someone – i.e. ME – to spoon-feed applesauce to them. Would someone like to dislocate my other shoulder? I do not want to be here.

Speaking of shoulders, mine is slowly getting better no matter what Ed says. I think he would like me to be invalid forever. Every time I try to tell him that my shoulder herpes is feeling better and that I have more mobility in my arm than I did a couple days ago, he flat out tells me “no it doesn’t, and no you don’t”. Well gee, I thought I would be the one to determine my all-betterness, but apparently not because Argumentative Ed is in the house and boy let me tell you, Argumentative Ed is my favourite Ed of all. I’m healing, though. I still have scary moments where it feels like my shoulder is half an inch away from pulling out of the socket and these weird clicks keep going off in my arm, but I’m not lying on my deathbed with my other arm across my brow any longer. I might even be able to do my own bra up the normal way one day soon! It’s good to have goals.

I’m a little worried about getting back in the proverbial saddle, though. Scooting over the Lions Gate Bridge has been unnerving me for some time now, and after my accident, the thought really fills me with a bit of dread. I don’t want to be afraid of riding my scooter, so I have to just suck it up and get going. It’s still going to be a week or so off – my arm isn’t scooter-riding-better yet, and my insurance ran out two days after the accident. I’ll use the time to remind myself how glorious it is to ride and not fall down, and I’ll be coasting over the bridge at dangerous speeds again before I know it.

Urk – our fancy outside office lunch is not sitting well in my bellies.

she lives!

Posted in medical anomaly, vroom vroom by

It’s the strangest thing – I hurt all over! It totally feels like I took a massive header on my scooter and dislocated my shoulder! So wacky.

I managed to survive the latest incident in the excellent life of Kimli, no thanks in part to the awesome man who stopped to make sure I wasn’t dead. It must have been a great site; I was lying on the ground tangled up in Sally and trying desperately to get up except I couldn’t. My disease ridden Spidey-sense kicked in again; when he asked if I was okay I squeaked out “I think I dislocated my shoulder ..” and sure enough, that’s what I did. It hurt. A lot. Andrew (my guardian cabinetry maker) called 911 (the first time 911 has been called because of me, not by me), then called Ed (trying to remember his work number when I was tasting concrete [the asphalt, not the guy] was not at all challenging) to age him prematurely by telling him his wife had been in an accident. Andrew made me a pillow, then stayed put until the three (!) cars of paramedics arrived – a cop car, a fire truck and an ambulance.

The paramedics asked me a bunch of questions, then got Sally off me (I was still tangled in her). They rolled me over and loaded me onto a stretcher – my first time on one! Whee! Then they took me into the ambulance, where they poked at me to determine I wasn’t going to die then and there before we took off for the hospital.

A word to the wise – if anyone is planning on doing anything that requires a trip to the hospital, it would be a good idea to NOT wear any of your favourite clothing. Throughout this entire ordeal, I am totally pissed that they had to cut off my favourite hoodie – irreplaceable, since the store is sold out – and cut up my favourite shirt so they could get to my shoulder. They managed to save my jacket, but STILL. SO ANNOYED. Today I am going out to look for a new hoodie. Yes, my priorities are totally in place.

My injuries were not life-threatening enough to warrant the siren, but they took me to the hospital (handily located just up the road) and loaded me into the emergency room where I began the waiting game. Ed had arrived back home by breaking several laws of both speed and physics just after the ambulance took off, but Andrew the Awesome had waited at our place for Ed to arrive so he could tell him which hospital I was taken to. Andrew is the best. He restored my faith in humanity.

The hospital experience really sucked ass. I had to wait for 4 hours before I could get in to be X-rayed, and they wouldn’t give me any kind of painkiller until about hour 3. I went through several panic attacks because I couldn’t move or sit up, and managed to wiggle myself down my bed so I was hanging off the edge by about 18 inches, losing my shoes and socks in the process. Ed made it to the hospital shortly after I arrived, and he soothed me and rebuffed my many attempts to just get up and go home already because lying there in severe pain was not as much fun as I had anticipated.

I did finally get in to be x-rayed. Unfortunately, it was Bring a Complete Newb to Work Day, and the X-Rayettes had to take SEVEN shots before they were able to confirm the diagnosis I had made hours earlier – yep, dislocated shoulder. The x-ray process was horrible, because every time the X-Rayettes discovered their latest attempt at interior photography was of my foot or the floor, they made me roll over onto my good side so they could shove the board thing under me and prop me up with foam Lego. What seemed like a million years later, they said “like, okay! We totally got a good shot! Tee hee!” and I was wheeled back to my spot in the First Aid area of the emergency room.

After my Adventures in Radiology, the rest went by fairly quickly. They gave me this cool tube that contained not the internet but laughing gas, and when I was sufficiently high as a kite, they wrassled my arm back into its socket. It hurt like a goddamn bastard, but apparently was cool to watch and I squeaked a lot (but didn’t scream because I am totally a ninja). They gave me a sling, a few T3s, and shooed us out of the hospital. Ed fed me and took me home, and I used my good hand to text message a bunch of people my whereabouts – just a normal Thursday in the life of Kimli.

So, here we are. It’s a long weekend because we Canadians are surprisingly religious, so I’m sitting at my desk wrapped in my sling and wondering how the hell I’m going to shower, since it hurts my everything to move. I’m stuck in the sling for at least a week, meaning I can’t drive (Ed has volunteered to be my chauffer) or scoot or play any Wii games. Boo! I know I’m lucky that the accident wasn’t a lot worse, and in the end everything is good. Sally is totally fine; she’s in better shape than I am – and all my friends are having an excellent time making fun of me and threatening to put training wheels on my scooter. All in all, it was an adventure – one I’m not looking to repeat any time soon, but thanks to the awesome people looking out for me and the get well wishes (and the yummy gourmet cookies the space station sent over), I shall soon be on the mend and totally ready to hurt myself in other spectacular ways.

I totally found down, though.

This is not the Kim you are looking for…

Posted in medical anomaly, vroom vroom by

THE INTERNET IS MINE!!!@#QWERTY

Guest poster Ed here, commissioned to impart to all y’all the greatness that is my wife. Early this morning on her way to work, she decided that she should wipe the fuck out.. completely unaided by man or beast. Thankfully, she managed to not get more than a few feet down the road. A very kind and gentle stranger helped her out by calling an ambulance, notifying me at work, and staying at the scene to give me an update on her condition and location.
The end result of Kim’s decision to find Down is a painfully dislocated shoulder (which I got to watch the docs pop back in… awesome!?), a scraped and bruised leg, and clothes that had to be cut off of her by the paramedic. My wife has been ravaged :(.

She’s ok and currently in bed with some cats and a really cool sling that she has to wear for a week or so. I’m sure she’ll update soon because she’s a huge nerd and is going through ‘net withdrawal. Now if her readers can help me explain to her why hurting herself and scaring her husband half to death is terribly wrong, that would be grrreeeat.

there’s nothing sexy about ooze

Posted in nerd, vroom vroom by

Things the “HP” on my socks might stand for:

  • Hit Points
  • Hewlett-Packard
  • Harry Potter
  • Herpes Patrol
  • Have a Pabst

I scooted to work today! It was cold as hell and a little slow going thanks to the headwind while trying to drive up the hill on the Lions Gate Bridge, but whee! Scooting! So fun. I hope the sun sticks around for a while; it’d be nice to see some flowers blooming and also I enjoy having dry feet.

I do wish my eyes would stop leaking, though. My allergies seem to be getting worse each year – how long before I am nothing more than an oozing mass of salty sinus drips and other randomly thick mystery liquids?

I itch, too.

Happy Pi Day, nerds!