RoadWarrior Vs. Suburbia

"Rough 'round the edges"

2007-01-09T08:54:00.000-08:00

Under my tiny, pink toes
A freckled crunch of pebble on pebble
Where, in any other part of the world,
I dreamt sand between my toes
But understood that despite lacking sand for castles
A sunny rock dune is a warm shelter
Against the cold breeze, blown in off the Atlantic

It has been ages since I have seen the sea
Or chewed vinegar-soaked cockles off a toothpick
And oh, how some day I dreamed
I would buy my very own cup full!

Wind-shocked by either chinook or snow
It is amazing how quickly the weather can change
In such a West-gazing land
Where you can always see shore on the horizon
I, too, am compelled to look to the sunset
As murky as such a view may be
Seen through the thick lense of black gold

It has been ages since I glanced at my toes
Whether burried deeply in pebbled beaches
Or tickled by the hoppers of prairie grass
But I'm careful as ever where I step

Iron and cogs and men from the rigs
Make poor metaphors for the fine arts
Bar fights are a kind of dance
But these days I'd rather the ballet
BBC 4 and the sounds of my aviatory
But a little Johnny Cash never goes amiss
Nor the zoo-wrangling life of working housewifery

I'd love to return to the pier some day
Wiggle my toes in the air, at the sea
Vision clear of that thick black sludge
And my very own cup of cockles

Baking...

2006-12-24T22:27:00.000-08:00

Doesn't that just say it all?

Best wishes to all... that's right, it's xmas eve and I'm WORKING!

The unmentionable holiday wink

2006-12-23T10:46:00.000-08:00

"I fucking hate xmas!"

Quite succinctly express a couple of weeks ago at my Andrew's mother's house, no we are not going to have a Christmas tree. She had offered him some small twinkle lights, probably would have set up the thing for us as well. Nope. No fucking xmas!

Noneoftheless, I spent the next couple of weeks shopping and wrapping and visiting/being visitied by countless relatives. A brief reappearance of an accent, before going back to a thank-god-Canadian one. Vicar, as you can see, was a huge help with all of this. Eating wrapping paper, standing on the presents to add a very personal touch of malformation to the boxes, and removing the rubbish afterwards. Those paper tubes are dangerous creatures.

Ah, but the best part was yet to come. Visits by Amilee all the way from Japan, relatives from England, a multinational event topped off by a burning xmas pudding. Jimmy received a friend for Xmas, an albino budgie (his eyes are red but the doesn't show in this picture for whatever reason) named "Hitchcock". He is the happiest budgie I have ever seen since he got his new friend. He plays mother to Hitchcock, cleaning, feeding, yelling at, and cuddling with. It's so very adorable.

What did Vicar get? Among many things, one of the most puzzling toys on the planet. It is made of rubber instead of soft fuzz, it makes irritating squeeling noises, and has odd little spikes. He carries the toy around, and talks back to it, and I'm not sure if he is more annoyed or amused by the whole thing.

...who is enjoying the unmentionable holiday the most? Let me put it this way: Does this face say "I fucking hate xmas"?

HAPPY WHATEVER-THE-FUCK YOU ENJOY MOST ABOUT THIS TIME OF YEAR!!!

2006-12-13T21:28:00.000-08:00

What IS your problem, anyway?

2006-12-11T16:38:00.000-08:00

Dorks and Drums

2006-12-07T16:37:00.000-08:00

Bobert is a "g33k". Please tell me THIS is for a school project.

Censored... STILL?

2006-11-28T18:31:00.000-08:00

Notes:
* e. e. cummings is god
** I have recently discovered that in Andrew's poetry textbook for a UNIVERSITY LEVEL CLASS, this poem is censored such that "fuck" reads "f." and "shit" reads "s." Correct me if I am wrong, but such a subtle change in an e. e. cummings work, makes a fucking-huge-difference.

In a university level class a poem should feel free to shit and fuck all it wants to!

i sing of Olaf glad and big

whose warmest heart recoiled at war:

a conscientious object-or



his wellbelovéd colonel(trig

westpointer most succinctly bred)

took erring Olaf soon in hand;

but--though an host of overjoyed

noncoms(first knocking on the head

him)do through icy waters roll

that helplessness which others stroke

with brushes recently employed

anent this muddy toiletbowl,

while kindred intellects evoke

allegiance per blunt instruments--

Olaf(being to all intents

a corpse and wanting any rag

upon what God unto him gave)

responds,without getting annoyed

"I will not kiss your fucking flag"



straightway the silver bird looked grave

(departing hurriedly to shave)



but--though all kinds of officers

(a yearning nation's blueeyed pride)

their passive prey did kick and curse

until for wear their clarion

voices and boots were much the worse,

and egged the firstclassprivates on

his rectum wickedly to tease

by means of skilfully applied

bayonets roasted hot with heat--

Olaf(upon what were once knees)

does almost ceaselessly repeat

"there is some shit I will not eat"



our president,being of which

assertions duly notified

threw the yellowsonofabitch

into a dungeon,where he died



Christ(of His mercy infinite)

i pray to see;and Olaf,too



preponderatingly because

unless statistics lie he was

more brave than me:more blond than you.

Drunken Vicar

2006-11-27T15:51:00.000-08:00

So, Vicar has an ear infection. It smells just TERRIBLE. I don't know how it happened, but now he walks a little like he is drunk. He had his first trip to the vet about a week ago, and loved it. He's such a smart dog, he can already sit, lay down, and run circles around anything else I try to get him to do. He's growing like crazy as well. When the vet weighed him, he came in at a tidy 20.08lbs. We'll see what he's at when I take him in tomorrow.

Enjoy more pictures:

Being 'handsome'

Killing the stuffed squirrel

Killing feet -- which hurts!

Had enough of the damn camera...

Trying to take the camera away!

Such a hard-working puppy

Where it's at

2006-11-15T19:39:00.000-08:00

HERE is what I would be investing in if I wished to be a franchise owner at the moment. It's a brilliant idea, it's doing good in the world, and it WILL make money. When I saw the opportunities available in this, I seriously considered it. What a wonderful way to get kids active, having fun, and improving their lifestyle. It also encourages good habits for the future. A big thumbs up for Bulldog!

Canadian, eh?

2006-11-11T11:26:00.000-08:00

You bet.

Leaving the saddledome as the zambonies clean the ice, half a box of timbits in hand for Andrew, a nylabone in my pocket for Vicar. We had won, 3-0, despite the 37-16 shot disadvantage. We had booed the other team; we had cheered our own players as they shot, saved, and fought; we had chanted and sang together. An overwhelming feeling of "we".

We started the evening with a light show, flaming C's spinning and gliding across the ice. Next, two from the airforce, two from the navy, one highlander, and a handful of soldiers for the playing of taps. We all stood at attention; we stood for a minute of silence; we sang the national anthem. Lest WE forget. It was incredibly respectful, and a wonderful feeling.

Then the game. We watched as one giant, cheering, red mass.

Even as we left the dome, a giant crowd from all walks of life, heading back to all neighborhoods... the feeling of "we" continued. Particularly, "we won".

Singing and cheering our way onto the train, I was able to participate in the livery that I was always told was "not for young ladies" at the football games. There was no fighting, despite a few duck-wearing crowd-goers.

I make my way into an empty set of seats on the train, soon followed by a couple that had clearly been at the kink show, not the game. The appearance is one that I'm familiar with... an art school uniform, if you will. They are smiling at the happy crowd around them, and who wouldn't be? This is the city that knows how to party, and everyone is invited.

Next we are joined by a mid-aged businessman, clearly piss-pie-eyed. Hey, hockey games are there for you to cut loose, and there is no judgment from anyone else on the train. He sings songs from Sesame Street, does impressions, and invites us all to The French Maid, on him. The couple tell him they've had enough T&A for the evening, and I'm headed home to the boyfriend and dog... noneoftheless, we are now "best friends" in the way that only a hockey game and significant amounts of booze can create.

Party on, he gets off the train.

Next to leave are the kink couple. By this time, we are talking to a Scotsman from Toronto and an Irishman one booth over. As they wave goodbye to the new found friends, the Scotsman remarks.

"Was that man wearing a skirt?"

Giggling. "I believe so."

"We must be in Kensington."

"Yes we are."

The Irishman pipes up.

"He had better legs than the girl he was with!"

We all have a good laugh, and as I leave the train I am glowing with the feeling of "we". Fantastic! We came; we conquered; we had a damn good time!

We are Canadian.

Cupán tae, Vicar?

2006-11-08T07:59:00.000-08:00

The green grass, it peeks through the snow
Fall apples uncovered below
With winter so fast
We know it won't last
Chinook winds, a false spring does blow

Yup, that's right, we are chinooking already! It's hardly been winter for long enough to kill the grass (or the lettuce in my garden), and now the snow is all melting again. It's like the weather in this part of the world is schizophrenic, not sure if it wants to be tropic or arctic. Alright, well maybe not tropic... but it sure is a welcome relief!

It turns out that Vicar likes Gaelic music. In fact, if you speak to him in Gaelic, he actually listens. (Not that he would ever actually do what you SAY; it is the liberty of a puppy to totally ignore any requests. Yet, he does concentrate rather hard on what you are saying.) Perhaps he is a reincarnation of a N. Irishman? Maybe my good old Uncle Jim, affectionately known as "Paddy"... I'd like that idea anyways. He was a good man, and I miss him.

That's why I've always had a weakness for Irishmen.
(<---- *cough*)

The dreaded holiday is soon upon us, and already I've been planning what to send off in little packages to all corners of the globe. I've received 2 cards already, mostly because my family knows how organized I am and just wants to give me their addresses ahead of time. Amilee will be coming to Canada to collect HER package this year, hooray! This year I am determined to buy an education for a girl in China. I had an argument with an aspiring politician yesterday... He was trying to tell me how bad we have it in Canada, as far as education, these days. It really made me quite angry, because we have it so much better now than at any point in history... and much better than most of the other countries around the world. Then again, he is oversimplifying like many politicians do... just looking at the dollar signs. Let me put it this way: Perhaps post-secondary education is more expensive now that it has ever been, even taking into account inflation, but kids are staying at home longer than they ever had. If you are a 20-some-odd-year-old man that still lives at home, your parents paying for your education, cooking your food, doing your wash, buying you a car and a cell phone... don't tell me how bad we have it! Take a good look around the world, then shut-the-heck-up.
(Note: This is not to say that the education system could not use some improvement. Education should always be a priority on any political agenda, but I think that more pressing matters at the moment are global warming and health care. We may not have it perfect, but we are sure a long way from having it bad!)

Highly Food Motivated

2006-11-03T08:35:00.000-08:00

Having a chew

Dinner time!

Off in search of more food... this barrier didn't last long.

Vicar is a really smart boy, he has the housetraining system sussed already. For having any accidents in the house he gets told off and put in his bed while we clean it up, he doesn't like that so much. BUT, if he does his business outside he gets a biscuit. Now, this works remarkably well, he tries to make it outside before he has an accident (by means of going to the door and grumbling)... but he also has this system so figured out he is now faking it just to get a biscuit. He grumbles, we let him out, he squats a bit, does nothing... then comes back in and sits in front of where we keep the biscuits.

Cheeky Vicar!

The Crazy Vicar

2006-11-01T07:44:00.000-08:00

Setting up for Tuesday

2006-10-29T19:30:00.000-08:00

Aaarrrrr... Avast! (Or whatever it is they say.)

I'm sure that Jimmy can feel the excitement, he hasn't shut up for more than a few seconds since we came home from our shopping trip. We bought a bed and toys and treats and food and a collar and just about everything our little Vicar will need when he comes home on Tuesday. He is now licensed and has a microchip (although he is still needing a trip to the vet to see if he is old enough to get "the snip" and also to investigate a rash on his tummy). After his trip to the vet on Monday, I'll get a call. Tuesday we bring him home. How excited are we? Very. And Jimmy is too.

I've been reading up on socializing a dog with a caged animal, and so far everything looks promising. I'm hoping that they take to eachother, and that Vicar doesn't see our Jimmy as a squeaky toy or something. (It is possible, he does imitate the squeak of a hinge on our bathroom door quite well.)

No talking from Jimmy yet, although he does make kissing noises, click his beak when I'm typing on the computer, and also imitates the silly noises that Andrew makes at him. I think he's working up to words. (Sometimes I let him sit on my shoulder while I'm working and play him mp3's of birdsongs from the internet between calls.)

More on Tuesday, and maybe even some pictures...

Adoption

2006-10-28T18:29:00.000-07:00

His name will be Vicar. We are going to visit him again tomorrow before goes to the vet. We get to pick him up on Monday or Tuesday. I have puppy scratches on my hands --- best feeling in the world!

2006-10-26T21:13:00.000-07:00

"Poor slob! Poor slob without a name! The way I see it I haven't got the right to give him one. We don't belong to each other. We just took up one day by the river. I don't want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together. I'm not sure where that is but I know what it is like..."

Roast Lamb

2006-10-25T08:50:00.000-07:00

When I was wee and I was small
I didn't worry much at all
When I was small and I was wee
The universe seemed fair to me

And now I'm older, wiser too
The universe, not fair, but true
And with the wisdom age would cite
I find myself awake all night

When I was free and I was young
I'd feed the lambs which spring had sprung
When I was young and I was free
I didn't mind them fed to me

And now I'm right, and now with morals
I find myself in many quarrels
And though a humane girl I be
I still don't mind them fed to me

Best Fucking Television Theme... EVER

2006-10-22T20:30:00.000-07:00

Does anyone know it?

Jazz w/ "Poiple" Nails

2006-10-22T08:13:00.000-07:00

It arrived, and I'm so thrilled!

CLICK HERE (and buy your own copy)

CLICK HERE TOO (for the Uninvisible video)

First Snow

2006-10-16T07:37:00.000-07:00

Crack of morning
Covered in a fresh new coat
So I wrap myself up in a sweater
But the tag is steel
Ice cold against my nape
Wool doesn't wear well in this country
It snows dry as old bones
And itches

So I turn to the shipping forecast
And dream of winter on a farm
Belonging to a
"Friend of me mum's"
Jimmy puffs up by the window
Echoes fleeing geese
And, of course, the shipping forecast
In his baby blue voice

In the land of sheep, wool is good for the winter
Here by the mountains, winter is worn alone

Figure 1943

2006-10-14T23:03:00.000-07:00

It is only three minutes until the completion of my shift and my whole world aches. I am transfixed, staring at blinking pixels trying to keep the words of GS from sliding off my eyes into a yawn. I am thoroughly enjoying this work, and will buy the book, but my fever refuses to let me read in peace. My lucid state makes a three act play out of every idea, pity the actors can't seem to remember their lines. Stop, stop, try it again! I reread the last line and contemplate on life and art and ebb and flow and who the hell really cares and the gratuitous use of and. It isn't really the kind of craft or the life-changing ideas, it is more the care that you can put into it and the immediate, selfish gratification the audience can get from it. Art is sex, the artist makes love, the audience quite commonly fucks. It's one sided on both sides, but who will mind? Not I.

It is three minutes past the completion of my shift and my fever is taking over. I will sleep soon, and hopefully the feverish dream can be closely akin to a feverish passion, to artistically inspire the reel I have failed to complete this week. I seem to have lost the love in all this working, and an artist can't simply fuck. Perhaps a good fever and a little GS is a well needed kick in the bum. Perhaps tomorrow everything will be the same except the frost on my desktop and the pounding in the back of my mind.

Let me out.

Autumn Renewal

2006-10-07T05:32:00.000-07:00

It may seem odd, but to me New Year's was never that special of a celebration. The new year would bring with it splendid galas, and people for me to photograph, and PA equipment for me to move, and free food that is far to rich to eat a decent amount of. It was work, and nothing ever seemed to be renewed. Nothing ever seemed to live up to the glamorous myth. New Year's smells of stale champagne on the breath of forced smiles, and it can't even begin to compare to my autumn.

Autumn is a fresh time where the smell of leaves in decay accents black bark against a bright backdrop of the red and orange remaining on the trees. A wonderful carpet of gold stretches out across the lawn, occasionally frolicking with the crisp air. Autumn is fresh. Autumn is bright. Autumn tastes like ginger, and is twice as invigorating. It is a warm kitchen with a cool windowpane; it is cuddle on the couch with a brand new episode you cannot miss. A cup of tea, a chirping budgie, and a renewed sense of hope.

I am capable in autumn.

Die Wilde Nacht

2006-10-01T23:07:00.000-07:00

[visit thearejunction.com]

The blinding rush of heart to the head
Can rarely be duplicated
Wine, music, cocaine
And raw oysters on the halfshell
Glistening lips, full bloom in their redness
Sucking on bloody lamb
(We slaughter the fatted calf tonight?)
And blue cheese
I must shake hands with Dali
The best Dali I have ever seen in my life
His grin is hypnotic in it's insanity
His date is a man in a leather dress
And a biker cap
Dali is magnificent and I swoon
Only a little, or was it the wine?
Touching on insanity
But never over-indulging in it
A man of the press snaps photographs
Of a belly-dancer in my lap
(I wore suspenders, to be safe in the guise of a dyke)
Head bowed in voracious conversation
"What company are you with?"
Parlous, as in perilous of old
With a laugh and grin that could consume my world
He tips back his head
"FABULOUS!!!"

2006-09-28T18:56:00.000-07:00

Scratches of pencil
Heart flutters under breastbone
Celluloid ripples

And now for something completely different

2006-09-25T22:21:00.000-07:00

This link was sent to me a while ago, not sure how I got on the mailing list, but I am glad. Eartha Kitt, Ernest Hemingway, a courageous Mormon in Paris, romance, gypsies, all in an off broadway show? You just try and tell my why the hell not!

Mimi Le Duck

The Female Eunuch as Dominatrix

2006-09-24T11:27:00.000-07:00

When exactly did women trade in the Lucille Ball for the Betty Paige? It must be innate within women to want to dominate, to want to control, and just generally to want. We are vicious creatures by nature, and when Elvis lost control to a Woodstock Hippie world, women forgot their place. America's men were too damn high to realize that their women, who should be having babies and making dinners from scratch, were now demanding fast cars and possibly even buxom blondes of their own. We are out of control, and the more testicular of the species are powerlessly bound to trying to please us. Too bad for them, a woman's want is never satiated.

Perhaps it is because women are born physically as an empty void, wanting to be filled. Perhaps it is the urge of man to fill that void. But for the propagation of the species, we are all to blame.

A child wanders into a store with it's mother and begins the familiar refrain of "I want, I want, I want". She buys, and the kid still wants. She doesn't buy, and the kid throws a tantrum. Regardless of gender, she can't even spank the little bugger anymore. It doesn't matter anyways as mothers are too blinded by their own ambition to notice their children's behaviour. Ambition is a new toy, only decades old, and the novelty has not yet worn off.

But where the hell is the kid's father?

The strict disciplinarian of the family is left wanting nothing more than his own brunette Betty, nevermind the mild Marilyn he would have married 50 years ago. Put on a nurses uniform and get out the paddle, girls, daddy may not no how to cook but he wants to be told to get back in that kitchen. Bring home the bread, cook it for him, and keep the house clean. Throw in a couple of children and this must be the American dream we are all after. Too bad it doesn't still include Valium.

I don't know about you, ladies, but out of the Hepburns I'd rather be Audrey than Catherine. So why am I so predisposed to act the other way? Well, someone needs to have some balls in this household.

Hell Yes, Elton!

2006-09-21T21:41:00.000-07:00

As I walk several people through different technical processes at once, my head starts to buzz and I recede into a state where I can sit behind myself, calmly, and watch the insanity. Everyone wants me, and there isn't enough of me to go around.

In sales I can deal with 3, maybe 4, customers at once and keep everyone happy with the service. I then switch into tech mode briefly to yell at the back-end server techs, our tills are down again. A little cardio and off to work... again.

This time everyone on the phone is panicky and terrified of the evil magic inside the box on their desk. I calm them, tame the beasts of the cyberworld, and end up in the behind myself position. Each of my bosses would like me to quit the other job and commit myself to their company alone. I am afraid of committment, not only in a "what am I missing out on" kind of way, but in a "who am I going to hurt" kind of way.

They both need me, how can I say no?

Contracts are flying at my one true committment, my passion, my life, and Amilee is hiring a real webdesigner to finish our site. Have any references? I do need to concentrate on the reels more than the business and the webdesign and the details. I need to create a product, first and formost.

What am I humming?

My boyfriend is an angel, he keeps me sane (or as sane as one gets in such hectic conditions), and I won't have a nervous breakdown tonight. All I need is him, and jellybeans, and Elton's new album to set me abuzz, again. Track 02: Just Like Noah's Ark --- Not only does the dog barking at the end make me laugh so hard I drop my keys while entering the house, (he keeps good time, that mutt), I had to play it twice. Elton is back! It was killer. Go Elton, go!

I would squeel, but the man on the other end of the tech support would wonder why having a virus is cause for such squeeling. He's already a wreck as is, I'd better not...

Scattered, like shattered, but once again I'm in love.

Are you f***ing kidding me?!?!?!

2006-09-19T15:47:00.000-07:00

IDIOT#1: "I ran a scan with my antivirus software and it came up with some possible threats. Now, I don't know what these are so I decided to quarantine them."

ME: "That's exactly right. If you didn't put it in your computer on purpose, best to be wary. What are the names of the files?"

{Insert filename spelling here}

ME: "Okay, that's related to ---website--- and is actually spyware. You can get rid of those files from your computer."

IDIOT#1: "Okay, but I may have let it loose."

ME: "You what?"

IDIOT#1: "I clicked on this blue print here in the filename and programs started popping up so I closed them really quickly, but now the print is purple. What have I done?"

ME: "Oh don't worry, that was just a link to information from your antivirus program to a page displaying information about the file."

IDIOT#1: "But the print is still purple."

ME: "It will be."

IDIOT#1: "But it used to be blue."

ME: "That's what happens. It's now purple to let you know you have visited the link. All you did was open the internet."

IDIOT#1: "What's this internet? I didn't download any internet on my computer! I don't want somebody's internet!"

ME: "Chances are you are paying for it every month."

IDIOT#1: "WHAT?!?! I don't want any internets or programs or nothin'..." *rant rant*

...
I'm not kidding, this actually happened.
...

IDIOT#2: "My modem isn't working."

ME: ---give handy powercycling suggestion---

IDIOT#2: "Oh, it's not on, it's in the freezer... I'll go get it."

ME: "It's ... what?"

IDIOT#2: "Sometimes it gets really warm, so I put it in the freezer to cool down."

ME: "You... what?"

IDIOT#2: "It seems to work most of the time."

ME: "I... I... Really, I'm going to have to highly recommend AGAINST doing that."

IDIOT#2: "Well it works whenever I have a problem."

...
Does anybody else see the "condensation + electronic device = BAD" correlation here?
...

Really, I have to laugh. Computers don't run on voodoo, they are very, VERY logical. Very. People, on the other hand, most definitely are NOT.

A Whole Lot Less Ugly....

2006-09-18T07:01:00.000-07:00

...than the original design. Ames, babe, this one is much better!

Parlous Productions

The Secret Life of Tech-Support

2006-09-14T19:03:00.000-07:00

In one word, Google

The quickest solution to any problem is to google it. I hate to break it to you, but I don't know all of the answers to all of your computer problems. The just don't teach us omniscience in tech-school, and they sure as heck don't hand it out with your first paystub. However, the more resourceful among us will google the problem, and quickly learn how to fix it while making conversation with you about the weather. It's all about multi-tasking.

iTunes

Oh am I proud of this! While answering the phone to people in British Columbia and telling them how to powercycle their modems, hook up a wireless network, fix their network settings, and talking to another woman with a previous problem (fried motherboard... yeah, just a small error), I managed to fix a HUGE itunes mess-up. A young woman chatted to me about her itunes not wanting to update, install, uninstall... well, not really wanting to do anything for her. After much messing about, looking for viruses and the like, I finally did a forced uninstall (manually deleting all files and removing references from the registry) and apparently it reinstalled fine. Huge grin on my face, I tell you. Also... Do not try that at home!

Spy Toys!

Oooh, I am going to get a "fob" soon. This is a small keychain-like device that gives me the updated password into a support ticketing network. Just like James Bond! As it is, I have access to several different company networks, and receive all emails from quite a few big oil companies. No, I can't share any details for fear of being hunted down and shot (remember, this is cowboy country out here). Nevertheless, I am back in the land of "cool toys to play with on the job". Woohoo!

Promotions, Meetings, Pumas

Speaking of nifty work-perks, my sales job is starting to get more exciting. My targets are unrealistic (which gives me something to shoot for), my coworkers are getting more competitive, and I start training for my promotion tomorrow. Next week, I get to attend a meeting regarding Columbia winter jackets. If you have any questions about those, after next week, I'm your woman! Oh yes, and my discount card should arrive any day now, soon after which I'm going to be purchasing a new pair of Pumas. I love Puma shoes! (I have very narrow feet, and most shoes are too wide. Pumas fit GREAT.)

Calne and Chippenham

While life gets more and more hectic (the paperwork having just arrived from Amilee today, and I have to go all the way to the AIRPORT to pick up the parcel... *groan*), I find myself thinking about the westcountry in England. We've had quite the influx of Brits in the last few weeks, and it kind of makes me want to head back over. I also think that I should visit my gran, as we haven't spoken more than 10min on the phone since I decided not to have anything more to do with my mother. I'm still unsure of where I stand, and I wonder when I can make the time. I really should make the time. Generally, I have just been having a lot of pleasant reminders of life back over in "jolly-old". Maybe it's just the escapist in me.

I'm okay!

2006-09-11T07:13:00.000-07:00

Life is extremely stressful from time to time, and unlike most of my dodgey past, I'm refusing to run away. I've learned that no matter how much I think leaving it all behind will make a problem disappear, I will always carry a piece of the unresovled in the back of my mind. What can I do to remedy my stress? Yoga? Meridian tapping? Meditation? Green tea? Possibly. But one thing is for sure, it's time to stand and fight... no more Ms. Runaway.

Imperfect != I'm perfect

2006-09-07T21:19:00.000-07:00

I tried to be the party animal again
For a night
And the next morning karma kicked me in the ass
It makes sense
Things either go very wrong for me
Or very right
I can't have the bloated expectations
Of my perfectionist parents
I don't understand failure
But I failed
And I fell drunk
And disappointed in myself
With a toilet backing up
A phone battery dying
And a crumpled heap of crying on the floor
I thought I had an ulcer
The stress and the pain are a lot
And I need to learn how to be imperfect

Where is my Happy-Place?

2006-09-02T20:21:00.000-07:00

[it isn't often this effect actually gets captured in a photo]

The last few days have been a remarkable experience, and a testiment to how nothing ever happens slowly in my life. I broke with bad habits cold turkey, with family trouble abruptly, with abusive relationships cleanly. Now I have finished with endings, it is time to start building some beginnigs. A kind of phoenix-rebirth if you want to be over-dramatic, a format and reinstall if you are a geek like me.

Sport Infusion: Earlier today I joined a "hockey-pool". Contrary to appearances, this isn't simply a good way for people at work to take my money, it's a bit of fun for the hockey season. It involves picking players in a mock "draft" for a make-believe team. When players do good, your team earns points. Not only is hockey-madness starting to creep upon me, I'm going to have to learn to golf as well. (This is something I NEVER thought I would do. Ever.) Apparently, my first business meeting with a contracting company is going to be on a golf course. This is 20-odd days from now (nothing cemented yet), and I must admit I am a little terrified. Not of looking like a fool, I am extremely practiced at that, but more of killing my contractor before I reap my first paycheque. There is a whole other world that exists inside the minds of office buildings downtown.

Laptop Dispair: Have you ever been so upset that you vomitted? Alright, maybe I should start at the beginning of the story. My laptop is a very important tool for me right now, as two of my three current paying jobs demand its use. Well, I happened to be at one of said jobs on Wednesday when it overheated and just died. Soooo... naturally, I crack the sucker open (which is about a 6hr process just to get down to the heatsink -- down through the keyboard) and clean it out. Well, cracking it open is a gong-show, not to mention I am NOT a hardware girl and the construction of Toshiba laptops leaves much to be desired. We couldn't get right down to the heatsink in the end because of the speaker plugs, so we just pried up the motherboard and gave short blasts of air underneath. (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!) Then the reassembly, which is the easy bit, right? Oh! The joy I felt as we, after 18hrs of "does this go there" and "how do I do this", snapped the keyboard back on the top and made it look like a computer again. My nervousness evaporated and I felt as if I had accomplished something. Not... so... fast. The DVD drive won't push into the slot. That makes no sense, it's not a difficult task and there is only one way to put it in... So I grab a flashlight and look into the slot. There is a screw, penetrating the "ceiling" of the compartment the DVD drive has to go into. What is the "ceiling" made of? Motherboard. I'm sure my face must have gone white, I felt a little dizzy, I started to hear angel choirs... no wait, that's a cell phone. Andrew is calling to find out where the heck I am, because this work day is taking so long. I quickly explain, and am very brief as I need to hang up to make it to the toilet in time to avoid vomitting on the carpet. Don't worry, on closer inspection the screw only went through a ground, and has simply killed the bass in my laptop speakers. In other words, no real damage. But it sure felt like I had killed my baby when I saw that screw!

Business Creation: With the two paying contracts and the one side-project we are doing right now, you would think that Amilee and I are busy enough. The thing is, we have to also establish the production company as a legitimate business and register all the goverment tax junk. I swear you need a degree in mathematics just to understand what is going on. This wouldn't be so rushed, however, one of my current contractors (that's right, the golfers) want everything done in the business' name and above board on the tax end. The good new is, they are helping walk me through the process of setting everything up. Helping. I still get to run all over government buildings getting forms signed (as Ames is in another country), but to be honest this is a really good feeling. Amilee and I will finally have something that is truly ours, and start working towards that not-so-far-away dream. You wait, within the year there will be movies and music videos abound! As I'm not returning to school this semester, I'm hoping this will give me a chance to dedicate enough of myself to the company. I'm like a kid in a digital candy shop. Show me the work! (A website is pending here.)

Dancing Friendships: I've never really been one for close relationships. Acquaintances, I have many, but true friends, only a handful. So sparking three new real friendships in a month is a huge thing for me. One is a technical support whizz that, like myself, has never really been big on personal relationships. This is healthy for the both of us. The second is my boss at the sports company. A drunken after-hours conversation in the stockroom cemented this. (He was drunk and I was told that I was not just an employee, but his friend too. Yay me! ... I also split a cigarette with him, which Andrew wasn't amused about when I got home. Mustn't do that.) The third is a really sweet girl from the sports store, a dancer. She is like a breath of fresh air. She's fairly naive, she lives a happy life, she dances, she's everything I wished I was at 18. But she just broke up with her abusive boyfriend. It's something I've been through before, so I get it. I am trying to pry her out of her shell, to take her out and have some fun, and she is making an attempt to get me into an independent dance studio for lessons. I just may take her up on that come January.

Amidst all this excitment, overwhelmed, I'm asking: where is that calm, happy-place I used to keep in the back of my mind? Perhaps with the tiny rainforest trees that have sprouted in a pot in our front window...

Good-morning 5:30am

2006-08-30T05:17:00.000-07:00

I am always late for everything, without exception, by at least 5min. In fact, I have what my Andrew calls the "5min law" that if I am 5-10 min late, that isn't late. 30min is late. One hour is late. It's called subscribing to the theory of relativity. Relative to how late I COULD BE, 10min is nothing.

So this morning my boyfriend thought he'd help me out by getting me up an hour earlier than I asked him to. Being that it is fuck-o'clock-in-the-fucking-morning, I didn't notice until after I had prepared coffee, drank some of said coffee, turned on the computer, and putzed about on the internet for a few minutes. The thought of a shower occurs to me, and I look down at the internet clock to see "6:02 AM" smiling at me in bright pixels. I tell you, the language was terrible.

(And yes, at this point, doofus is still sleeping....)

So back to tardiness. It isn't a lack of respect for those that I'm meeting with, I am just as late with people I respect and admire, as I am with people I'd like to prevent from wasting perfectly good oxygen. There is no discrimination, I'm just consistantly late. (Another thing I have discovered is it doesn't necessarily matter what time in the morning I LEAVE... something will prevent me from arriving on time. Even if it's train trouble and I have to sit on the train for an extra hour, it will be because I left 45min early.)

So stop making excuses about it, and just change it. Brilliant advice for any problem, I'm sure, but how? Leave early? I've covered that one. Wear a watch? Well... now I can see exactly how late I am, but that doesn't actually help the tardiness itself. It just causes undue stress. Get a cell phone? (Yup, that was actually suggested to me as a solution.) Have you seen cell phones these days? I'll be playing with all the features on it, getting on the wrong train, and ending up at the Zoo. So now we are back to the 1 hour before I asked to be woken up...

I think I'm going back to bed. (I'll be late for sure.)

(Because DeKooning never hurt anyone... and no one ever cared if he was 10min late.)

My Life Consists of:

2006-08-26T13:16:00.000-07:00

1) Five days a week selling sports stuff
2) Two or three days a week doing tech support
3) Animating a short 3D animated reel
4) Animating a music video
5) Constructing a website
6) Housework/Cooking
7) Keeping my Andrew happy
8) Listening to German radio to try and drown out the noise of the inconsiderate cunt upstairs doing rennovations. (There may be deathmetal all night tonight... 8am on a Saturday start for hammering and vacuuming, without consulting the people downstairs. Fuck you!)

...

Although I have to admit, some of what they play on RecordCaster (100% deutsch: Rund um die Uhr) is really cool. Currently, a choral arrangement of Nirvana.

Thankyou to Amilee for the mood-appropriate picture.

Interview on my "Day Off"

2006-08-24T08:53:00.000-07:00

A stuffy downtown lobby

And a man in a suit
With a million questions
On computers
He thinks I should know
Not realizing that there are
As many areas of computer expertise
As there are areas of medicine
You wouldn't expect a chiropodist
To preform brain surgery
Or cure you of flu

I feel underdressed in the bustle
Tattoos are not permitted in the core
Downtown
Where all the real people are
Getting on and off trains
With snorts and sniffs
And egos

I miss a Michael Caine version of my grandad
And a quiet working class understanding
How good you are
At what you do is important
Intelligence is more than a face
And a $300 pantsuit

Really
Shopping for appearances is so dull

BusyLittleBee

2006-08-16T15:13:00.000-07:00

Making a website with Amilee
Researching running shoes
(Know what you sell, right?)
Trying the Blood Type Diet
Yoga and Meditation for sanity
LaundryDustingVacuumingDishes
Cleaning the bathroom I hate, I hate
How does my garden grow?
Just got another job offer
Probably could moonlight it
Still modelling characters
Concept phase of music video
Hopefully the diet gives me more energy
Like it is supposed to

I'm too busy for a real post
Watch this
Interesting little homages to
Good ol' Uncle Pink

On violence as a form of communication:
"It's like pulling into a gas station,
except you have an m16 instead of a credit card
...
and the gas station is Iraq"
Apt.

Competitive

2006-08-09T09:56:00.000-07:00

New Job:

Selling sports equipment is probably not the best environment to get competitive right away. Especially seeing as I don't have any knowledge of what I'm selling, but it's like playing Tetris. I can't just set a sales score for myself and then not try to beat it... and as they post everyone's sales on the wall at the end of the day, how can I not try to beat that? Instead of looking at the high score on the gameboy screen, I'm looking at the high sales on a wall and wondering how to fit the merchandise we have into the holes in these people's lives.
"Everyone needs something that they can belong to
So package up that something they need to belong to
Convince them that they are outside of the pack."
It's actually kind of fun. Now don't get me wrong, I don't sell people overpriced merchandise that they don't want. The challenge is to find out why they walked into the store in the first place ("just looking" is NEVER just looking) and then convince them that it IS really worth it to spend $100 on those sneakers they think are pretty cool. It is also important that they LIKE said product once they get it home, as if they return it, it is a negative on your sales score. Yes, it is a game to me... why not?

Creative Projects

I had a meeting with Amilee last night, most of which was spent going over boring legal bologna. Paperwork is a real pain in the ass, but it's better than not doing it in the long run. She has completed a couple of character sketches, which of course I have criticized and sent back to her, and she has completed a cool logo for our company. I have landed a music video for a nifty new Canadian Industrial band, and have slacked off considerably on building the nose. Andrew has set me up a nice little office in the spare room, so now there really isn't any reason for me to get distracted from my work. (I'm sure I'll still find one, though.)

Personal Notes

Andrew is of course a saint, a sweetheart, and the most helpful man on the planet. I promise! He does laundry and he helps with the yardwork and he's very tolerant of my sudden bursts of creativity, during which he is mostly ignored. His family is doing well, his brother visited me at work the other day. My family is insane, and I've all but cut off communication with the lot of them. Frankly, I've just had enough. I'm not a leper, and I don't need to be treated like one. I guess this can also be a positive, as I have something to prove which motivates me to work as hard as I can at various projects. Financially, of course, I walk the tightrope. Emotionally, I feel quite content. This is in large part due to Andrew, and his everlasting support/affection.
I have the day off today, and I woke to two men pounding on the upstairs woman's door and ringing the doorbell. I didn't see if she actually answered, and I'm kind of hoping that she isn't dead.

And a message to actors, musicians and other artistic types:
You may find it fun to change your name to something strange, say... Flea
But don't name your kids something strange, say... Sunny Bebop Balzary
C'mon man! That kid is going to have to live with your weird crap for the rest of their life, don't totally screw up their name as well! Perhaps they won't want to be an artist or a rockstar, in which case a name like MOONUNIT is really not an asset. Let them choose whether they want to be a freak or not, it'll save you an argument about them changing their name when they become a teenager.

2006-08-02T20:31:00.000-07:00

I saw one of the brothers Fry
In a cafe today
While pondering the shape of a nose
And the mechanics of the skuttering
Of a fly
Somehow, if I love the trees enough
The forest will be improved
On whatever small scale
Ames enjoyed Wire and Glass
All but Endless Wire
With which, frankly, I agree
And I miss her
And I dream that we are together
Ambling down Glasshouse Street
To the lights of Trafalgar
And the divers on the rooftop
Instead of sending our souls to eachother
On the internet

A Touch of Dostoyevsky

2006-08-01T17:56:00.000-07:00

Below is an excerpt from Dostoyevsky's The Idiot that I was thinking about today.
Hope is a strange thing, and despite the fact that we are all very sure that we are going to die, the uncertainty of the date allows us to hope that we shall achieve everything we want to in our lives. Even a man faced with a diagnosis of Cancer or AIDS has the luxury of only a vague idea of when he will die, allowing denial and a kind of optomisitic procrastination of "well I didn't die yet today, perhaps tomorrow. I'll make it through today." At any rate, by the time he actually DOES die, he is too preoccupied with the pain of his disease and the difficulties of everyday bodily functions to face his death with certainty. His last breath will be strained with the sound of "not yet".
But what if you knew with absolute certainty that in a few moments you were going to die? Would that certainty be the absolute worst kind of pain imaginable, or would it be comforting? If you knew that next Tuesday at 5:34 in the evening, on the dot, you were going to drop dead, would you try to achieve something with your last week, or would you just give up?

"... Tell me, how is it [abroad]? Is there more justice in the courts or not?"

"I don't know. I have heard much good said of ours. And besides, we do not have capital punishment."

"Do they execute people there?"

"Yes. I saw it in France. In Lyons. Schneider took me with him."

"They hang them?"

"No. In France they always cut their heads off."

"What do they do --- scream?"

"Of course not! It's done in an instant. They lie the man down, and this broad knife falls through a machine they call the guillotine --- very powerfully and heavily -- the head flies off before you can blink an eye. The preparations are horrible. When they read the death sentence, dress him and prepare him, tie him up and drag him onto the scaffold -- all that is dreadful! People crowd in, even women -- they don't like women to look on though."

"It's not their business."

"Of course not! Of course not! Such torture -- The crimminal was a middle-aged man, strong, fearless, intelligent. Legros was his name. Oh I tell you, believe me or not, he was white as paper as he was climbing the scaffold -- and crying. Can this be? Is this not terrible? Who cries from fright? I didn't believe one could cry from sheer fright, not a child but a man who never cried, a man forty-five years old. What goes on inside a person at that moment, what kind of agony is he put through? It's an outrage to the spirit, nothing less! Does 'Thou shalt not kill' mean that because he has killed he shall in turn be killed? No, this cannot be. It is a month now since I saw this thing, and ever since it's been before my eyes. Five times I've dreamed of it."

The prince became quite moved as he talked, a faint colour appeared in his pallid face, though he was speaking as quietly as before. The attendant followed him with interested attention, as if unwilling to stop listening. Perhaps he too was a man of imagination and a thoughtful turn of mind.

"At least it's a good thing," he observed, "there is little suffering when the head falls off."

"Do you know," the prince said feelingly, " you have just made that observation, and many people have said the same thing, and this is why they invented the machine called the guillotine. But the thought crossed my mind then: what if this was even worse? That will seem absurd and wild to you, but with a little imagination such a thought is possible. Think! When there is torture there is pain and wounds, physical agony, and all this distracts the mind from it's mental suffering, so that one is tormented only by the wounds until the very moment of death. But the most terrible agony may not be in the wounds themselves but in knowing for certain that within an hour, then within ten minutes, then within half a minute, now at this very instant --- your soul will leave your body and you will no longer be a person, and that is certain; the worst thing is that it is certain..."

My Little Rainforest & Lips

2006-07-31T18:27:00.000-07:00

Soaking the seeds for the rainforest plants -- no I'm not kidding they are boreal rainforest trees

(They spend the next 2 weeks in the fridge)

Andrew staining the bench

Weeds
(Which I'm keeping because they are pretty)

And... the lips that took me almost 6.5hrs to construct
Next stop... a nose.
Yeah, this stuff really takes time and patience. In fact, it gets a little hypnotic at times. It's calming. It's like meditation.
I've needed this because I can be a VERY angry person.

Everyone who believes in God or something like it, pray for Amilee's husband... he's very sick at the moment.

What's one person?

2006-07-28T17:12:00.000-07:00

I started the day angry
At the universe
Higher power bastards
Holier than thou
With imaginary letters
Trailing in their wake to justify
Their insistent wrongs
Their muddled facts
An MBA with an attitude
Nearly got four letters in the nose
But "fist" is not the only word I know
You swine
Everything does not boil down to money
And I do believe the United States of America
Is fucking the world on all fronts
It is a suicidal nation
Self destruction is fine for you
But not on my planet thankyou

"I believe that Saddam is in the White House with Bush"

Words from a wonderful woman
Former teacher in Iraq
Before Saddamaddness
She taught mathematics, english, and arabic
And is sad for a picture of her father
With Sir W. Churchill
Ripped up by fear
Today she taught me hope

"You must remember, always
People
Just because they are in higher place
They are not better than you.
You are of perfect age.
I was a teacher in Iraq
Now
I'm here, in restaurant.
My son, he tries for Air Force
(In Australia)
He is brilliant mechanic
They don't let him
Because he is Iraqi.
You are same age as my son.
You need to make something
In your life
And not let them tell you
They are better."

Wars for oil
CO2 destroying our planet
Lies called 'spin'
And a son in Australia
Who can't do what he wants
Because of his nation

Yes

I need to make something in my life
Or at least die trying

We all do

Top 5 things to giggle about today

2006-07-26T17:40:00.000-07:00

5. My new piece of jewellery, as bought by my wonderful Andrew, a SNAKES ON A PLANE rubber bracelet! (And yes, I do prefer this to diamonds... much more FUN.)

4. Mirabelle's boots! Aren't they fabulous?

3. The beautiful and brilliant Justine's The Comedienne. (Warning: some slightly sexual content)

2. The Doctor Who episode I watched last night after losing my concentration... Specifically the THEME to Doctor Who.

1. Getting an email from my artistic director, and very-bestest-friend-in-the-whole-world signed:

"kisses and snuggles and fiddlin' about"

Indicating that, yes indeed, she has watched Tommy as I prescribed. As one of my coworkers put it: (when I accused him of "just not understanding")

"I understand fine. She lives in Japan, and you're from the UK."

Hee hee hee.

And now I get back to work, as my Andrew has a social event for us to attend tonight.
(I shall not have to be dragged away from the computer kicking and screaming. I shall not have to be dragged... etc.)

Sonnova #$%^ mother@#$%ing *&^#!!!

2006-07-25T22:07:00.000-07:00

I'll have to admit I'm a bit of an "artiste" at times
And right now I'm desperately trying
NOT
To go all prima donna
But my artistic director still hasn't contacted me
Her boyfriend is ill
And my 3.5 hour productive stint
Has been interrupted by my 'helpless' boyfriend
(Or so I'm seeing him)
And my guilt for not doing the ironing
Or the dishes
Or cleaning the house
Or cooking the GODDAMN DINNER....

RRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrahhhhhhh!!!
Okay, I'm breathing now.

I hate it when life interferes with art

SNAKES ON A PLANE!!!

2006-07-24T18:17:00.000-07:00

And I'm not the only one looking forward to this...

2006-07-23T16:40:00.001-07:00

I am no doubt not the only one who writes in order to have no face. Do not ask who I am and do not ask me to remain the same: leave it to our bureaucrats and our police to see that our papers are in order.
--Foucault

Thunderstorms after The Proposition
I was impressed by the lighting
Desert light in a Western is so tricky
I have wasted the better part of a month
On digital light
For a bad film
No one will ever want to see
I can respect what they have accomplished
You bet, I enjoyed it
Loved it
The work and the film
A thankless passion
And I still love it

But tonight I find myself hoping
Wanting to inspire my boyfriend
To rise to something other than
"The Occasion"
Yet, I find myself busy at work

Animating
I become the shadow of a ghost

Oh! Oh! Oh!

2006-07-20T17:58:00.000-07:00

Alright, I know everyone is excited about The Who and the tour and the new album... and in all honesty I am very curious to pick up Wire and Glass on iTunes when it becomes available to Canada, buuuut:

John Scofield has joined Medeski, Martin and Wood and they are releasing an album at the end of September, and are coming to Vancouver just before the release!!! WHEEEE!!!!!

*cough*

Have a look here:
http://www.myspace.com/medeskiscofieldmartinandwood

Yes, I am a Jazz geek. Quite happily so.

I'm also still wondering about the divers... thankyou to those who have suggested explanations. I guess I may have to wait until I'm next in London and go in to the building and ask about them. (Yes, I'm THAT curious!)

Divers at Piccadilly

2006-07-19T10:59:00.000-07:00

Does anyone know anything about these?

Really, I can't find a damn thing on the internet! I love this sculpture, it's beautiful, and stunning even from the ground a block away. It makes me think of Ayn Rand book covers. It makes me think of Art Deco. I'm going mad here, somebody help!!!

A wonderful night out

2006-07-16T13:02:00.000-07:00

The first night out in ages
I could actually enjoy

Conversation
A thesis on the ghostliness of film
And Russian skinheads
Somewhat confused anger
Theory and intelligence abound
Remembering days gone by
And snooty London bookstores

This morning I contemplate
Application
Inspired

2006-07-12T18:00:00.000-07:00

Burka

2006-07-07T17:30:00.000-07:00

Everyone loves a parade Pipes and horse guard From a +15 "I'll follow you" She was heading to the tower And I to the train Neither of us had a clue A maze of bureaucracy later Exit through a map Near the graffitti on the wall And an art gallery A constant parade of fools Not there, at play At work: high-maintenence Man-hating divorcees And an explanation If you wear a tent in this life You may wear whatever you want In the next I'm not banking on some afterlife Neither is the 3-legged cat Outside my front window Provocative temptation of fate And a portrait of Natalia

Err... thanks for the shirt!

2006-07-05T17:36:00.000-07:00

I think I only talked to him once, for any great length of time, but he may have bought lunch from me more than once. I did recognize him when I saw him. (Not in that "Oh I know you" kind of way, but in that "I've walked through this room once already and am not surprised to find there is a chair over there" kind of way.) Noneoftheless, he definitely knew me.

I was standing at the veggie sink, washing tomatoes or something to that effect, when I felt the tickle of eyes on the back of my head. Helen, a lovely lady from Iraq that I work with, greeted him and asked him if she could help him. I turned to see him ignoring her completely, and staring at me. Oooookay.

He then motions at me with his forefinger... "come hither" or whatever that motion says.

What?

More motioning.

Ooookay, well, maybe I can come a LITTLE closer. Not much, though... just in case you are a freak.

(There are MANY freaks where I work. Just today we had a cowboy try to steal a chair. When caught, he told my boss how he had just lost a customer and could go fuck himself. He then proceeded to shout at everyone, who were at this point gawking at his behaviour, not to eat here because the manager is an asshole. I gave him "one of those looks" and turned to take another order.)

He then starts digging in the bag he had with him and produces an England World Cup shirt. He hands it over the counter to me.

Errrr... what?!

"I bought this a while ago, but I was too afraid to give it to you." He said shyly.

I am now waiting for the coffee, or the dinner, or the invitation to "go out sometime".

"Erm... I'm really sorry they lost."

WHAT?!?!

We discuss the loss, the extra-time, the penatly kicks, Beckham, Rooney, and probably the weather for all I know. (I was still in shock.) He then smiles sweetly and explains that he had a shirt for himself, but he left it on the train by accident.

And then he leaves.

A gift... and no proposition.

Thankyou for the shirt, the world is not completely full of assholes.
(I'm a cynic, I'm expecting to see him again... with the missing proposition.)

However, it does make a girl feel a little special. *grin*

We Are Kleenex

2006-06-30T19:30:00.000-07:00

Kleenex is disposable
Without hurt feelings
Don't be afraid to throw away
We aren't

This week we are putting together ideas for Pete's birdwoman
Doing up a "character sketch"
We have plenty of ideas...

Any suggestions?
(Keep in mind this is only a bit of fun, just some good practice...)

...but Paul Robinson is currently my hero

2006-06-28T17:31:00.000-07:00

Past Leeds Utd players on the England team this year:
Paul Robinson : 1998-2004
(yay!)
Scott Carson : 2003-2005
(what is it about Leeds Goalkeepers? *grin*)
Aaron Lennon : 2003-2005
Rio Ferdinand : 2000-2002

And we all know who else played for Leeds Utd:
(I just love this awesome picture)

And here is that awesome graffitti I promised a picture of:

In conclusion:

GO ENGLAND GO!!!!!

Good Day at Work

2006-06-27T17:24:00.000-07:00

I'm in love with the universe today
Standing next to the oven mouth
Which belches in vain
Against the sweltering sun
Picking heat rotten brown
Out of a box of tomatoes
Catching too many flies
"My boyfriend wouldn't appreciate that"
I have no idea where the honey came from
Although it is good weather
And a beer would go down a treat
With any company
But I'm a good girl
So, no

A middle-aged Ukrainian prostitute
Ranting about the heat
It's bad for business
Has me laughing all afternoon
I explain with a wink
That she is a working girl
And a dead mouse in the alley
Curls up with my pity
Under the dumpster
And I plug in my ears
For the company of handsome notes
On the way home

TubbyDog

2006-06-26T17:33:00.000-07:00

Eating at the TubbyDog:

Andrew - Hotdog with chili and bacon and cheese and god know what else
Myself - Hotdog with peanut butter and jelly and Capt'n Crunch

It's truly bizarre, and no I'm not pregnant. It was an interesting taste, but I don't think I would do it again. (Imagine eating a hotdog, pbj sarnie, and a bowl of children's cereal all at the same time.... as I said "INTERESTING".)

Inside the TubbyDog (great decor... PRIZE-WINNING, I SAY!)

My Andrew, and yes he DOES change his clothes! (KHAAAAN shirt again)

Yup, that's me! (And it's summer, so the bangers are out!)

One of my favourite poems by my uncle... it's on his tombstone:

cigarettes

slowly die

in strange places

but then

any place

is a strange place

to die in

On Being Australian

2006-06-21T20:41:00.000-07:00

"Are you Australian?"

No I'm fucking-well-not!

I'm getting a little tired of being asked this one-million-and-eight times a day. I understand that Canadian+British=Fairly Strange Way of Talking, but goddamnit, I'm a miserable, rainy-day, tea-drinking Limey! Not an Autralian! Nor am I Kiwi, or Irish (whatthefuck?), or whatever other random country you can come up with! GAH!

I may surf, swim, scuba, love sun, I've eaten Vegemite, and I even own a didgeridoo (in all seriousness, I do!), but I AM NOT AUSTRALIAN!!!

So...

"G-day mate!" *add gesture here*

Worthy?

2006-06-19T20:32:00.001-07:00

i've been a shit
22 years in entirety
colourful blur suicide
if i'm not attractive
i'll still get your attention
if it kills me
i've got a good life
now
i'm no longer
sniffingsmokingeatingdrinkingshooting
sticking things up my ass
and i don't need your fucking validation
and i've got curtains and couch covers
and cushions that match
in a soft glow that i think is happiness
but i keep checking
by pissing on the stick
just in case i'm wrong
the world is still full of assholes
but no more rectal
hallucinations
when i get the hunger
i bake pie

but it feels like a stolen life
what i've done to right myself
barely feels like enough
to nullify my wrongs
let alone right them
let alone earn me the right
to such a happiness
like trying to control a flinch
within an affectionate hug
with no sexual undertones
i'm trying to embrace this

I'm a survivor
I can survive happiness

Like an ass in a hailstorm, you just have to stand there and take it

2006-06-18T11:12:00.000-07:00

What the hell does that mean, anyways?

Interlude

2006-06-16T17:50:00.000-07:00

Familiar physical memory in my hands
Allows my mind to wander
While I am chained to work:

My boss' father
Perhaps not the subject of much poetry
Is a beautiful man
A portrait of what would be
A Peter Sellers character of 69 years
Age has not worn on him like his life
Chronic medication-blocking alchoholism
And years of strip mining
Echo a familiar damaged hardness in his eyes
That in empathy I find attractive
His business sense is as sharp as his gaze
Which only softens momentarily
When I do my job well
I've never liked easy praise
And a flirtatious smile from a man I respect
Means so much more
When coupled with harsh criticism
And sound advice for improvement
An English gentleman from Kent
With a strong past in India
And a milk-bottle of brandy in the cooler
He's a handsome asthetic I can appreciate
A welcome mental escape from work

What a week!

2006-06-13T18:14:00.000-07:00

{Pictures below}

Have you ever described the taste of meat to a vegetarian?
A friend from India, who had never SEEN meat before she moved to Canada, let alone eaten it, asked me to describe what beef tastes like. Followed by questions about bacon. How the hell do you describe the taste of bacon to someone who has never eaten meat before? It tastes like it smells? It tastes like cooked pig ass? As I described what animal each of the meats came from, and where the respective cuts were on the body, the horrified looks she gave me were priceless. Something as common as a rack of ribs, which I'm sure we have all indulged in, could make this woman go pale in horror. I'm not about to go veggie on anyone, I love my meat, but it really does make a person think. Are we monsters?

My survival instinct is screwed up!
Catching the train to work at 8am in the morning is not without it's risks. Every morning I hop on a bus in upper Chinatown (near our place) and get off in the center of the city to catch the train. This change-over includes crossing several busy, BUSY downtown roads. Now, unlike most Canadians who (due to the STUPIDITY of Canadian law) just jump out in front of semi-trucks and busses, knowing full well that even though by law they HAVE to stop, they may not be able to... I am quite good about not jaywalking. Apparently this does not make you safe from crazy SUV drivers. I really don't know WHERE THE HELL this guy's brain was... but it wasn't on the large group of twenty or more pedestrians, including myself, that were crossing the road or the RED LIGHT urging him to stop for us. He just barrelled into the crowd, striking two men in business suits and a lady in the ugliest dress I have ever seen. (The suits were nice, so I wouldn't say this was a fashion critique.) I was no more than two paces behind the three that were struck. What did I do when I heard the squeeling of breaks? I jump PARALELL TO THE DIRECTION OF THE SUV. Will someone please tell me how on EARTH that was supposed to save me? Where did mother nature go dreadfully wrong?

Waiting around for paramedics and police made me late for work, but by the time I got there my brain wasn't entirely on the task at hand anyways. The two suits escaped with scrapes and bruises, the lady may have had some broken bones... hopefully the dress is beyond repair.

Finally, pictures and baking:
Work was also driving me nuts, but that is boring and petty and no one really wants to read about that... so instead I'll show you my tiny kitchen (in which I got some baking done this weekend) and the status of the garden. My potatoes are bigger than YOUR potatoes. So there!

Look how fast these are growing!

Yes, those are Andrew and my matching lunch-boxes. Aren't we sickening? They are Virgin Mobile boxes, and they were free.

Baking Gooey-Chocolate Hockeypucks:
{Very big hit with my Andrew}

1/2lb of chocolate
4 eggs
knob of butter
Powdered Sugar

1. Melt butter and chocolate in double boiler. (or do what I do, place them in a slightly smaller pot over top of a pot of boiling water. This prevents the chocolate from burning!)
2. Break eggs into a different pot, breaking yolks and mixing.
3. Heat the eggs (but don't COOK them) and then whisk until you have more bubbles than goo.
4. Add the egg bubbles to the chocolate/butter mixture and stir until there are no streaks.
5. Pour into muffin tins.
6. Bake at 425 for 10-15min.
7. Sprinkle sugar on the top.
8. Don't cheer for Edmonton!!! (Cause they are going to lose and you will just end up sulking.)

Making Banoffee Pie:
{First introduced to me by a barmaid at the Cricketers Pub when I was approx. 10 years old}

2 tins of condensed milk
several bananas (3-5 depending on taste)
pie crust (I make my own, but store bought will work)
powdered sugar

1. Boil the milk inside the sealed tins for about 4 hours. (3 hours for those of you in England. Here in Canada, 3 hours is not long enough, you end up with slightly brown milk in a pie crust, and it's very messy.)
DANGER: Don't let the pot boil dry, the cans will explode and you will have to redecorate your kitchen... after you reassemble whatever bits you can find in the neighbouring gardens.
2. Freeze the pie crust. (For about an hour.)
3. Open the tins (yes, it'll squirt toffee at you), and pour one into the crust.
4. Place a layer of banana slices on top.
5. Repeat steps 3 and 4
6. Sprinkle the top with powdered sugar
7. Bake at 350 for 40min

Pie crust recipe available upon request.
Martha Stewart eat your heart out! (And I haven't even been to jail yet.)

The Andrew Top 10

2006-06-05T20:10:00.000-07:00

A.K.A : More than you wanted to know about my boyfriend because I'm not very creative right now
(Okay, I've tried to come up with the odd stuff here... and it'll embarrass Andrew nicely *evil grin*)

-3 : Yelling at his computer (he gets so VERY angry at it)
-2 : Cheering for Edmonton (obviously he is very confused who Calgary's RIVAL TEAM IS!!! *growl*)
-1 : Bleeding on my pillowcase (WTF?)

[This is the as-of-yet-undecorated room, Andrew is learning guitar, and he needs to practice more often! Do you hear me???]

10 : He looks absolutely fabulous in his "In Soviet Russia, Hat Wears You!" hat
9 : My dad has seen his favourite model nude *grin* (In person, not in a magazine spread or on the internet like the rest of the world)
8 : His left eyebrow twitches when he is thinking naughty things
7 : Gay men hit on him, but he doesn't believe that's what they are doing (like his buddy at work who always wants to tell me stories about his bowel incontinence... ???)
6 : His odd factoids such as "Cutters are rampant at Princeton and Cornell"
5 : Yelling "Fuck You!" at a bad script in the middle of a full movie theatre, and meaning it (because X3 was an absolute embarrassment)
4 : He is the human IMDb
3 : Video games, video game themed shirts, playing mario kart (the answer to the eternal Mario Kart question is "Two races, and then you'll be glad you bought the stain remover" *giggle*)
2 : Geekery.... oh the geekery

[Yes, his shirt really does say "KHAAAAAAN!"]

1 : His NOSE!!! I just can't keep my hands off his nose! (And no, that is not a euphemism for anything else... I really do mean his nose. It's so cute!)

There you go, I've posted a top ten... now I'm just like all the other bloggers... GOODBYE UNIQUENESS!!!

A Tad Overwhelmed

2006-06-04T10:49:00.000-07:00

Crash landed on planet suburbia, I am finally starting to feel less nervous about everyone I pass on the street smiling, waving, and looking genuinely happy to see me. Who are you people? Little fluffy white dogs, sometimes wearing tiny little clothes, their owners always seem to be of inverse proportions, large flowered print. Large wiggly masses, the tail most definitely does wag the dog here where they are pleased to be included in the yardwork. My favorite is Clive, I pass him on the way home from work every day, he most recently had his hair cut. He would qualify under the big, fluffy category, except the haircut makes him big, well-groomed, and slightly embarrassed.

An elderly neighbour, I remind her of her daughter but her daughter has less tattoos, leans over the fence with a church-council smile and passes me rhubarb cake. I'm a mass of sunburn and sore muscles, spending the afternoon challenging Mother Nature, her weeds, her bugs, her lack of sympathy for my any-shade-but-green thumbs. It's quite nice to receive a cake from my neighbour, my landlady has given me stain to paint our bench with, and most recently Andrew's mum has given us curtains. I'm unsure of etiquette with so many helpful people, it makes me more nervous than a room full of snakes and sharks. At least if I were standing in such a room, I would know I was still in the Fine Arts, and I know my way around artsy-fartsy bullshit much better than a smile and a rhubarb cake.

Score so far with the garden, after two weeks of planting, digging, weeding, cutting, trying:

Potatoes: 10/14 sprouted
Cabbage: I really don't know, nothing, I think...
Carrots: C-letter veggies don't like me
Raddishes: Many little sprouts, I'm so proud
Lettuce: A few sprouted, and an alien plant that could be more lettuce,
or could be Mother Nature fucking with me
Rhubarb: I am the QUEEN of Rhubarb!!!
House plants: My tigerlily has mold, my cacti are alive... kinda...
an aloe fighting desperately looks a little sad

The best part, I think, is to have a family. A cozy little home, and Andrew's parents, a brother, a sister, a little puppy right up the street. We can talk about house and home, and I am starting to be less nervous in conversation, they don't judge every little thing. To be happy, to be myself, to simply be, it's new and I'm nervous, but it's a wonderful feeling when I'm not so overwhelmed at how new everything is.

Yes, I'm still alive!

2006-05-04T17:58:00.000-07:00

[I shall post pictures of our new place as soon as I unpack the box with my camera in it!]

As I slowly mop the floor
To a closing cafe
I am reminded of rain soaked pavement
Waiting to creep into my sneakers
And wet the cuffs of pants
That are just that little bit too long

I can imagine the chill
But here within the yellow and green walls
Black and white pictures of food industry
Scenes from the 1940's
I am warmed by a pizzicato Ethiopian accent
Delicate treatment given to every syllable
Like raindrops on crystal

She's pleasant company
Polite in a way that North America
Just can't understand
She gives short answers
Does her job well
Smiles with honest lips and intelligent eyes
And warms her orange cola in the microwave
As out of the machine, it is far too cold

As I clean dishes from slob patrons
And wonder how they manage to miss their mouths
With such astonishing frequency
I ponder her quiet politeness
Colourful clothing and sun
While at home, waiting for me is cup of tea
And a Punjabi movie I won't understand

Currently Tied Up...

2006-04-17T21:18:00.000-07:00

I am away from the internet right now
I'm glad to know in my absence
That the quality of crap found here
Is kept at a certain standard

Especially when referring to bands like
Led Zeppelin
The Grateful Dead
The Who
The Beatles
The Rolling Stones

Or untouchable Gods such as
Eric Clapton
Jimmy Page
Jimi Hendrix

You are not safe in
England
Canada
Sweden

...or anywhere for that matter

At least, if all else fails
We can fall back on jam sandwiches
And the good old Russian Reversal

It's like the press on steroids, and if you don't find it funny... you are trying to sell a magazine. We don't want any! *SLAM*

National Health Service Snafu

2006-04-12T22:33:00.000-07:00

[Doesn't the NHS wish they could inject their propaganda this way?]

The British National Health Service (NHS) is currently attempting to bring its functions into the twenty-first century by implementing a centralised program, costing £6.2 billion, to be completed by the year 2012. The system, intended to connect more than 30,000 GP's and 300 hospitals, will perform the following functions:

- allow for online appointment bookings
- centralisation of all medical records
- e-prescriptions
- a link between all NHS organizations

As this system deals with a non-trivial dataset, and calls for flawless security/reliability, it is no wonder that computer scientists have been speaking out against the program. With the NPfIT's progress at least one year behind schedule, it is no wonder that the government is reluctant to further delay the release in order to allow for second party testing.

Is this situation slightly disconcerting? With the NHS at the wheel, I'd say yes.

The Association for Computing Machinery (ACM) clearly outlines in section 1.1 of it's code of ethics, under General Moral Imperatives, that

"When designing or implementing systems, computing professionals must attempt to ensure that the products of their efforts will be used in socially responsible ways, will meet social needs, and will avoid harmful effects to health and welfare."

Let's break this down. The ability for patients to book or check appointments online, or to receive an e-prescription, sounds like a wonderful convenience, as almost everything can be ordered online in this day and age. However, everyone is familiar with internet securitiy issues, and that these tend to operate on a "build a bigger wall and they will get a longer ladder" basis. No matter how secure the system seems to be, there will always be some wise-ass kid in a basement somewhere that can crack the system. Does this necessarily ensure that the product will avoid harmful effects to health and welfare? We are talking about personal health records, prescription medication, and human well-being. Can this product guarantee that e-prescriptions will be used in a socially responsible way? For that matter, the availability of complete health records to any organization in the NHS also poses a problem. Does a doctor need to know about an abortion performed on a patient two years ago if they are treating them for a stomach ailment? How can "socially responsible use" be defined is such cases? Similarly, when a doctor is presented with too much information to consider, it is more difficult to make a diagnosis. Medical professionals could become blinded by too much information in the system, and make bad diagnosis causing harmful effects to the health and welfare of their patients. (Also violating section 1.2) Is all this information necessarily a good thing?

The honesty of the NHS, as per usual, is also brought in to question. A spokeswoman for the Department for Health has stated:

" We remain confident that the technical architecture of the national programme is appropriate and will enable benefits to be delivered for patients, while ensuring value for money to the taxpayer."

Which is a wonderful sales pitch, but with little backing evidence. The Oxford's Nuffield Orthopaedic Centre, when implementing the electronic records system, had several patients records lost. GP's in Nottinghamshire are concerned about the security of online booking. Computer Scientists and other professionals, such as Cambridge University's Professor Ross Anderson, have been raising concerns about the system design and lack of rigorous review. Probably the most disturbing of all is the fact that

"Concrete, objective information about NPfIT's progress is not available to external observers."

So no one REALLY knows what is going on behind closed doors at the NHS. If this was a word-processor with a built in pinball game, perhaps ensuring an objective and rigorous set of testing criteria might not be as important... However, when it comes to personal health records, and the well-being of the patients of those 30,000+ GP's and 300 hospitals the program plans to connect, there shouldn't be any corners cut.

This program, and the way the NHS is approaching the project, is found to violate a number of other ACM Code of Ethics sections, including 1.7, 1.8, 2.5, 2.7, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3, 3.4, and 3.5.

Computer Scientists are pushing for independent evaluation of the system? No kidding! The general public should be as well.

I love buying kitchen stuff

2006-04-09T18:55:00.000-07:00

I'm so very excited. Our new kitchen is almost all kitted-out... yesterday Andrew and I picked up a colander with little black spherical feet (it made me think of Doctor Who... It's so cute! And cheap too!), and also a set of utensils complete with a carrying basket. (Just in case you feel like taking them with you? Yeah, I don't know...)

It's a very small kitchen, and as soon as we are in I'll post some pictures. From a friend of Andrew's mum we have got two almost complete sets of dishes, and a zillion cups and things. Even a creamer and sugar bowl! (Although the creamer has some chips in it...)

Oh yes, I'm right chuffed. Now I just have to work out what to do with the rest of the place... (It has green carpet, quel decorating disaster!)

CLICK HERE! - Someone mention the Last Goon Show of All?

And tonight on the Jazzblog... and interview with the beautiful and innovative Seka!
(Electronic/Acoustic musician from Sweden... Neat stuff.)

TIP:

Constantly hungry? Well, chewing gum can help, as it will give you just enough of a blood sugar boost to make your stomach quiet down for a bit. HOWEVER, sugarless gum can actually do the opposite... It causes blood sugar to plummet, and as a consequence you are more fatigued and your body starts craving food.

Interesting, no?

[And yes, this gum actually exists. Someone sent a package to Peter Stormare, he joked he might put it on ebay...]

Gratuitous Proboscis Hemorrhaging

2006-04-07T17:17:00.000-07:00

I get nose bleeds when I'm stressed.
What a stupid thing,
When my body is under stress
It dispells blood
To do what?
Enduce a light-headed giddyness?
I've had this nosebleed for almost 24hrs now
It's been heavy-light-heavy flow
Why doesn't it clot?
Damnit, I can't drink tea with a wad of tissues in my face
And I want a god-damn cuppa tea!

CLICK HERE

I present some sober advice
From a life of learning the hard way
I too, once was naive
With my heart draped on my sleeve

Many would attest to aim for the stars
And then if you fail, at least you're among them
But I disagree
We are capped by our abilities

I harbour a thought of a different kind
Don't go setting your sights too high
You can't dispute aptitude

It is taught from the cradle on up
That anyone can be anything
Well, if that's true, those not at the top
Would have little excuse

Don't go wasting your time on things unattainable
Face the facts
A good attitude can't make you more capable
So leave faith to the men of the cloth
And others more gulible

And I just have a thing for Peters, I guess...

2006-04-06T16:12:00.000-07:00

{link removed}

Two sips from the cup of human kindness and I'm shitfaced

2006-04-06T00:01:00.000-07:00

Completely laid to waste...

Alright, I have shocking news, I'm a hockey fan. Yup, that's right, I'm converted. Awesome.

I saw a hockey game tonight. They say nothing in life is free? How about a ticket to a Calgary Flames game, row 12, to the left side of the home net! I got to watch the great Finnish god Miikka Kiprusoff play, and wow is it something surreal. We won, actually we kicked their asses 5-2. "They" being Phoenix, the team now belonging to the "great" Wayne Gretzky.

Wayne be damned, if you want to see something totally mind blowing, watch Kiprusoff play.

They say goalies are like drummers...

I'm feeling a zillion times better now, thankyou to everyone for the kind messages! I hope everyone is doing well, if not, let me know and I'll take care of it for you. (As I'm already on a war path with certain parties... including my landlord -- don't ask.)

Blonde From Fargo has made it into the KIAC Big 50!!! Wheeeeeeeee!!!

Hooray for kind-hearted people and free tickets! I'm feeling so good, I'm going to send an Easter card to my World Vision child!

I'll do up Jazzblog tonight...

2006-04-04T12:43:00.000-07:00

I've calmed down quite a bit, back into stride. Here's a picture from my Amilee, I talked to her last night. She's doing well, working hard at school, just as I am.

Bill Evans on Jazzblog, is now up! Hooray!

And for a change, software development is actually ahead of schedule:

Silver Linings, But Not One Breath Held

2006-04-01T18:49:00.000-08:00

[you get no bread with one meatball... listen to BZT ep.132]

Well, they still want changes. Then again, there is never a case where they won't want changes. I am guaranteed to be paid at least half of what they owe me (payment should be processed Monday, I'm not counting it as paid until I see the money). The other half, of course, pends on the completion of these changes. Nothing happens until the first payment has been processed completely. Yet, something good may have come out of the whole ordeal, I may get a really, REALLY cool contract from someone completely different, that has been watching the whole ordeal. (To do with the Olympics... woo!)

My breath is not held waiting for the payment, nor the contract.

As I have just been through an ordeal, I figure that I'd list some advice for anyone facing a similar mess:

1. Don't be afraid to walk away from the project.
It may feel like abandoning a child, especially if you have been working on the project for any long period of time, but be ready to walk away. The chances of anyone else being willing to pick up where you left off, for the pay you were receiving, is slim to none. It will either cost them more for someone else to complete your work (usually a LOT more), or they will have to drop the project completely. Depending on the time and money they have invested, they may not be willing to risk the second. You'd be surprised, but don't try to bluff this. If they call your bluff, you will have to walk away, and that "takes a lot of balls".

2. Don't allow yourself to be strung along.
There is only so many times a person can hear "we'll get you paid right after you do this..." before you start to wonder when the list will end. This is what I did wrong. Set very concrete deadlines for payment, milestones if you will, and don't let them convince you otherwise. You are providing a service and deserve to be paid for it. Don't take any shit.

3. Keep control of the "masters".
I have the only fully working copy, and that puts me in a negotiating position. If they already have the product, you have already spent the time, and they decide not to pay you, you are pretty much forced to take them to court. As much faith as I would like to have in the legal system of whatever country you are from, the fact of the matter is, the man with the deeper pockets will win. This is not going to be you. Keep yourself in a good negotiation position, but don't do it in such a way as to piss them off either. ("I'll just hang on to this in case you turn out to be a cunt.")

4. Document EVERYTHING.
The more paper you have supporting your position, the more people are likely to believe you. Their word versus your word will end badly, as they usually have money behind their word. Money talks, but evidence talks louder. Take notes at every meeting, know when the meeting happened, who was there, what was discussed, who approved, who disapproved, changes that were requested, and ANY agreements that were reached. It's even better if you can get both parties to SIGN the notes at the end of the meeting, however, just being organized is extremely helpful.

5. Be polite.
It is essential that, while you might want to claw out their deceitful rat-eyes, you remain as polite and professional as possible. Express regret that the situation has come to this, but admit no fault. If worse comes to worse and you HAVE screwed up along the way, the words "this may have contributed to the problem" and an apology are best. Never assume any fault, but don't be nasty either. You may end up having to work with them further.

I hope everyone else is having a better weekend than I.

Back Against the Wall

2006-03-31T17:50:00.000-08:00

chest tightening
breathing irregular
vomitting profusely
let me tell you a story:

i completed a contract
just as they specified
now they don't like it
now they don't want to pay me
i threatened with lawsuits
they'll pay me one half
but now they want changes
should i hold my breath?
i'm moving soon
i need the money
i'm broke
they're messing me around
i get salmonella
i load up on gravol and go to a meeting
on promise of being paid something
i'm woozy and they tell me they want changes
i'm not getting paid until they get their changes
they leave, i feel sick again
i want to go home and sleep
i want to cry and have someone tell me
it's all going to be alright

when the fuck did we all "grow up"?
when did we all become such shysters?

i will be out of commission for the next few days
Jazzblog shall be up as per usual

La, la, la, Lolita....

2006-03-26T23:51:00.000-08:00

I wish I could get that damn song out of my head! (James Casey is all to blame...)

My next post shall tell you all about why poets are such losers, and where I disagree with some of those theories.

Currently, I am so, so, SO busy with school so instead a treat on the Jazzblog:

Interview with Gaslight District

These guys are hilarious, they combine sarcasm and some silly responses with a clear understanding of music and "the industry". They are perhaps a little jaded, and that is perhaps why I like them.

There is nothing wrong with some good old-fashioned Rock and Roll

2006-03-24T20:18:00.000-08:00

I have seen the young boys scale buildings
To write their names upon the wall
Some of them fall to their death
Some of them fly off like angels
Some of them succeed in writing their names
Upon the highest of perches
For no one ever to read

The Intellectual Woman's Crumpet Gone Stale...

2006-03-21T14:51:00.000-08:00

[I need a fekking cup of tea!]

Media:

In the world of film,

Go out and rent Goodbye Lenin.
It's such a cute film!

Anyone for Guy Fawkes?
Anyone seen this (other than my Andrew), what did you think?

In the world of music,

David Glimour's new album
Let's be honest, you don't even have to LISTEN to it to know what it'll sound like. If you would like to hear a sample of the new album before rushing out to your local record store (which most definitely ISN'T a euphemism for download off the best network possible), check out BZT Radio that played some of his work full and uncut! (ep. 130) Hey, hey, look at the plug again... this is the station I go to weekly for a break from the good ol' Beeb.

Irminsul has some new songs up on their homepage.
They are so very cool... And from Sweden!

Blonde From Fargo is on iTunes!
Support the new, up and coming talent from our good friend Sturmer and his buds!

"HEY BFF’ers!

We are proud to announce that BLONDE FROM FARGO is now on iTunes! Search “Blonde From Fargo” and find the brand new, 2006 version of “Only in it For the Blondes” - FEATURING 2 NEW TRACKS.

Search “Peter Stormare” and find Peter’s Fantastic Swedish Language album, Swanska Hwisor!

* For those of you with the Special Edition Lebowski 2005 Version of “Only In It For the Blondes”, the new tracks are “So Sad” and “Your Life”. The 2005 version was a true “Special Edition”, made in a limited run…"

In the world of Jazzblog,

Next week on the Jazzblog I'm hoping to have an interview from the brilliant new talent on IAC Gaslight District!

Following that, we've had a request for Bill Evans, which I would love to honour. Bill Evans is an absolutely WICKED piano player!

And then the week after that (talk about planning ahead), an interview with the wonderful Seka (also found through IAC) on the use of electronic "instruments" in Jazz.

"The best way to describe Seka is in words like: shy, beautiful, radiant, intelligent, feminine, competent, unpredictible and frightening. The first time I saw Seka was in a Bar when she played in a band called "Just Like Dad". There had been somewhat of a commotion around this band because of the lyrics they were writing. At that time I´d never even had said hello once to her, even though we lived in the same city and went to the same clubs. I had heard strange rumours about this lead singer and guitarist of the band- Seka- rumours that said that she used to enter the stage shortly before the gigs just to flap her arms around, jump on a spot and act like an insane bird on drugs!! I met her a few times but didn´t dare to speak to her- she was a little scary, and impressive..Anyway, I completely fell off the chair- this was the best performance I ´d ever seen in a club before. It was same class that of a proffessional act like Bruce Springsteen or AC/DC. I was mesmerized..."
-- Tony in "Outrage Outkast" (Gothenburg)

So much to do, so little time:

"This life of mine seems surreal at times,
Wasted days and nights in someone else's mind."

Stress:
How am I supposed to keep the house clean, do the ironing, and all of the work I seem to want to take on as well? I tell you, this woman's right junk sure isn't all it's cracked up to be! :)

Do a little yoga, go back to work...

Excerpt from Malcolm Gladwell's novel "blink":
[The Cook County experiment's goal was to implement a better way for dealing with emergency room procedure when faced with a patient complaining of chest pain. Should this patient be admitted to the cardiac unit right away? Should they be sent home with a couple of heartburn tablets? Cook County, due to a lack of beds, simply couldn't admit them all. This means a choice had to be made of who was sent home and who was admitted to the cardiac unit. Would you want to be the one to make that decision? Me neither. Proposed was a decision tree (Goldman's algorithm) based on 3 criteria, along with the ECG results: 1) If the pain is angina, 2) If there is fluid in the patient's lungs, and 3) The patient's systolic blood pressure.]

"5. When Less Is More

Why is the Cook County experiment so important? Because we take it, as a given, that the more information decision makers have, the better off they are. If the specialist we are ssing says she needs to do more tests or examine us in more detail, few of us think that's a bad idea... But what does the Goldman algorithm say? Quite the opposite: that all that extra information isn't actually an advantage at all; that, in fact, you need to know very little to find the underlying signature of a complex phenomenon. All you need is the evidence of the ECG, blood pressure, fluid in the lungs, and unstable angina.

That's a radical statement. Take, for instance, the hypothetical case of a man who comes into the ER complaining of intermittent left-side chest pain that occasionally comes when he walks up the stairs and that lasts from five minutes to three ours. His chest exam, heart exam, and ECG are normal, and his systolic blood pressure is 165, meaning it doesn't qualify as an urgent factor. But he's in his sixties. He's a hard-chargting executive. He's under constant pressure. He smokes. He doesn't exercise. He's had high blood pressure for years. He's overweight. He had heart surgery two years ago. He's sweating. It certainly seems like he ought to be admitted to the coronary care unit right away. But the algorithm says he shouldn't be. All those extra factors certainly matter in the long term. The patient's condition and diet and lifestyle put him at serious risk of developing heart disease over the next few years. It may even be that those factors play a very subtle and complex role in increasing the odds of something happening to him in the next seventy-two hours. What Goldman's algorithm indicates, though, is that the role of those other factors is so small in determining what is happening to the man right now that an accurate diagnosis can be made without them. In fact ... that extra information is more than useless. It's harmful. It confuses the issues. What screws up doctors when they are trying to predict heart attacks is they take too much information into account.

The problem of too much information also comes up in studies of why doctors sometimes make the mistake of missing a heart attack entirely - of failing to recognize when someone is on the brink of or in the midst of a major cardiac complication. Physicians, it turns out, are more likely to make this kind of mistake with women and minorities. Why is that? Gender and race are not irrelevant considerations when it comes to heart problems; blacks have a different overall risk profile than whites, and women tend to have heart attacks much later in life than men. The problem arises when the additional information of gender and race is factored into a decision about an individual patient. It serves only to overwhelm the physician still futher. Doctors would do better in these cases if they knew less about their patients - if, that is, they had no idea whether the people they were diagnosing were white or black, male or female."

So I guess there IS some truth to Hugh Laurie's character House... seeing the patient can sometimes blind a doctor from diagnosis. (Although, I'm glad not all doctors are assholes like House!)

If I'm so damn busy, why am I on here? Cause I needed a vacation a la Andrew's comic...

Odds and Idiots

2006-03-19T18:56:00.000-08:00

...Welcome to the Internet

Come up with a password
A username too
How close will these fields
Reflect the real you?
Online personas
They're friends, they are foes!
What says about you
The persona you chose?

Deceptive anonymity?
Egotism asshattery?
Writerly ability?
Poetic musicality?

Quickened immortality
Cementing shortened thought
Sometimes these aren't as well composed
As, in writing, statements ought
We all say stupid things
When angered or distraught
But in text, you can not know me
As of you, I still know naught

Stand strong and unabashed
THIS IS THE INTERNET
Anything goes!

I'm alive!!!

2006-03-16T21:29:00.000-08:00

[Hee hee]

Jazzblog:
First of all, my next duty on the net shall be to head on over to the Jazzblog and finish writing the article on Chucho Valdez. I shall leave this up until Sunday March 26th, after which there shall be an interview with the fabulous up-and-coming artists, Gaslight District. (Which many of you may know from their IAC contributions. Needless to say, I'm loving their stuff.) I'm still working on landing a few other interviews, I will have more time next month to set them up. Also, the Jazzblog has been linked up to the radio station The BZT Weekly, thanks to Jeff Archer Black for the support. (Hi Jeff!)

Interesting Causes:
Local Harvest, where you can find Community Supported Argriculture (CSA). An annual membership will cost $300 to $600. What do you get for your money? A bag of fresh, locally-grown, typically organic produce once a week . (Of course, WHAT you get depends on the season and crop rotation for that week, but they try to give you a wide variety of produce.) Also, you are supporting small farm owners. I don't know about you, but I love to support small business.
"This mutually supportive relationship between local farmers, growers and community members helps create an economically stable farm operation in which members are assured the highest quality produce, often at below retail prices. In return, farmers and growers are guaranteed a reliable market for a diverse selection of crops."

FrequenSea , a concept that I don't entirely buy, but it is a neat idea. I mean, eating phytoplankton sounds kinda cool doesn't it? I just don't necessarily believe in all of the benefits they claim it has. However, I do know a breast cancer survivor who swears by the stuff, and claims it helped her through chemo therapy. Who knows, there might be something in it... but I am ever the skeptic.

Plodding to the train to the test:
Arms encroach
Stiffly relaxed
Iced fingers barely moving
Conducting a zen trip to the station
Meditative plodding of boots
I could verbalize as
"What will be, will be"
If it wasn't cliche

I mustn't be cliche

So instead
Electronic jazz from Sweden
Frosting the sound of
Industrial semi-trucks
And road enraged suits
Wrapped in plastic from Japan

The source of my metaphor
Laces tenements
And I can forget
Crack-adled minds
That worn, empty sack of skin
That used to be a face
On a woman wishing
She was closer to death

I happily smile
And I, and the peaceful winter
Sparkling in the sun
Pay no mind

Flash Update (of the Jumpin' Jack variety? har har)

2006-03-14T23:14:00.000-08:00

I'm really pleased with my Software Engineering group today. We gave a presentation to the class on our group methodology, as well as our product. Not only did we manage to pull it off without any hitches, we got 5 minutes of praise from the professor for it. The compliment I liked best was:

"We can all learn something from this group's presentation today... including me."

Can you feel me glowing?

The Jazzblog article on Chucho Valdez will be up tomorrow night. (A million apologies, and I promise you I shall make up for it!)

I've finally managed to get that proposal up, including schedules for when I shall have certain aspects done. You bet you'll be hearing about it every time I pass a milestone! (Did I hear you say "oh joy"?)

As a peace offering, here is some Morally Deficient Business (more Novillero).

Keep playing Blonde From Fargo, and I would also like to point out that the quality of the work from James Casey is quite surprising. (If you haven't heard it yet, take a boo... if you have, listen again!)

...And now I must finish up some ironing. A pile that if it doesn't disappear soon, I may well go mad.

Regular blogging will resume tomorrow...

2006-03-13T20:25:00.000-08:00

Extremely busy right now... regular blogging will resume soon.
(So I'll leave you with a cute picutre)

It really is one sometimes, isn't it?

2006-03-12T15:20:00.000-08:00

Vietnamese deep fried spring rolls
Crepe, sausage, and the obligatory green tea
Conversations over strong iced coffee
I stop mid-sentence
Seconds
You finish
Someone places a cupped hand over my left ear
Gushing tap water by my right
I'm worried my brain has just exploded
As I step out of my body behind me
And observe a flashback stutter
Twenty minutes later I feel fine

That monkey may be off my back
But it'll follow me around for the rest of my life

* * *

On the menu for tonight:

Jazzblog, Chucho Valdez - wicked at the Havana Jazz Festival a couple of years ago
I'll have a full proposal up on the Ink Dispersion Project
B-Spline assignment shall be fully completed
Possibly another section up on JellyJar

Note: Chuck Norris jokes have NEVER been funny...

Sending in Our Babies

2006-03-11T12:16:00.000-08:00

[this picture is not staged, and yes that is a real suicide belt he is wearing]

Mere words form a concept
They are nothing but letters
Syllables arranged
A soul is not made from chanting
Nor heaven from a war cry
It's in a child's cry
When our babies cry
Religion and art are worthless
These valued, are bullshit
What sacrifice your art?
What sacrifice your god?
Please make me understand it

Belgium, B-splines, and the Beeb (rehash)

2006-03-10T14:07:00.000-08:00

Communicating with Belgium
As I close my watch clasp
I'm told he's returning to Canada
In 5 or 6 months time
Sure a few things have changed
But we speak instead
Of "how are things with you"
And "what have you been up to"

Yeah, I guess I'm that scrawny bint
But I promised to take care of our young lad
And you bet I shall,
And I have, haven't I?
We'll throw you a party when you arrive
I guess it's my job to tell you
We are moving in together
And you that didn't even know we were dating
I pour another cup of tea

Falling out in a stream
Like the gargling brown
My thoughts turn back to B-Splines
Delta indices, and derivations
I must calculate
The deadline has been extended
At least I have a weekend now
I hear faint murmers about the UN
The BBC chattering a welcome distraction

"The dark side of this railman's daughter connects a South African hospital with a surprise night out."

Rain Out Of The Blue

2006-03-08T23:10:00.000-08:00

I blink and am on the train again
My soul aches with fatigue
My heart aches with pins and needles
The only thing to keep me from crying
Is to kiss you

I wonder what you are up to right now
Are you thinking about me on the train?

Standing erect, shoulders pulled sharply back
With confident power made from wisps of nothing
I read people that read newspapers
And cheap cigarette shop books
Although smoking has quite gone out of fashion

Set the mood with weather so cold and grey again
Rain collects and pours down gutters and drains
The waiting is agony at least today to me
How can you lose something you never had to begin?

I'm terrified, and cloak myself in music
And orange magazine superficiality
I'm not going to make it and then what am I?
What am I if I fail? How easy it is to fail
As if I knew what I am striving for

I blink again and am on the train
Homeward bound to nothing accomplished
But small legions of panic to lay waste to my dreams
I'm not going to make it, I don't think I can do it
You are not here to kiss me

So I cry

silly & sPuN

2006-03-07T22:18:00.000-08:00

I've been extremely silly as of late... sorry if anyone has been offended. The thing about me being silly in text is that no one can see me grinning like a maniac as I say things. It takes more talent to be funny than to be serious, it's so very difficult to convey.

So right now I'm going to be absolutely talentless, and post some lyrics that I've found myself singing a lot lately:
Every time has heros, villians, and bad seeds
Each and every one of us are wasted ones in need
Each and every one of us you can do without
Each and every one of us needs badly to be weeded out

In every civilization, every race and society
You can find an expendable one, somebody just like me
The little bird who gets kicked out from the nest
A chosen one who gives his life so you can feed the rest

Well I'm the one
I'm your chosen son
All my life, I am spun
But I don't know what I've done
All my life I'm the expendable one
The disposable one
Oh my life, I am spun
Before it even begun

Many years of blood and tears, but just around the bend
There's that break that I've been waiting for, will take me to the end
I'm the kid next door, the one you handed the rope
I'm your chosen one and my cross to bear is your hope

Well I'm your son
I'm your chosen one
When I die, eternal high
I know this all too well
I will come to heaven
Cause I spent my life in hell

So goodnight, goodbye, adieu, fare thee well, I don't really care
I'd rather be anywhere, anywhere but here

Cause I'm the one
I'm your chosen son
All my life, I am spun
But I don't know what I've done
All my life I'm the expendable one
The disposable one
Oh my life, I am spun
Before it even begun

Oh I am spun

In every litter, every herd and family
There's a chosen one, yeah, somebody just like me
The pup who never makes it to the nipples of his mum
The weakest link that must die, so the rest can carry on...

***It should be noted at this point that I neither believe in heaven, nor do I condone suicide. Not even if you are a total shit, and a waste of space in society. Everyone has a chance to change. I do, however, believe in the expendable people...

Subject to use or consumption: an expendable source.
Not worth salvaging or reusing: expendable rocket boosters.
Not strictly necessary; dispensable: an expendable budget item; expendable personnel.
Open to sacrifice in the interests of gaining an objective, especially a military one: expendable civilian targets.

Odd New Mood -- (5 suggestions)

2006-03-05T18:24:00.000-08:00

I've linked a song below. Click on the sky blue text.

Yeah, I'm back to training again. Much exercise, monitored diet (within reason, I had leftover pizza for dinner tonight :p), actually caring about my appearance, and keeping my brain active. I've been at it for a couple of weeks now, and am feeling pretty good about it. Here's some ideas, they sound quite trite I'm sure, but if you like give it a go and see how you feel.

Inspiration:

Is there a particular television show that motivates you? A radio station? A book or magazine? Get up earlier, make a good breakfast, and eat it over watching taped episodes, reading the newspaper, listening to the radio or reading your book/magazine. Hell, eat breakfast over the blogs! So long as it puts you in a good mood for the day.

Typical shouldn't feel typical:

Change something tiny about your everyday routine. Even though you may get up, shower, grab food, go to work, come home, check blogs, sleep, and do it all again... you can make everything seem new and exciting by changing something small. Change your hair, buy a brightly coloured bra, pick up a different newspaper than usual.

Eat for more energy:

1) Eat a smaller quantity, more frequently. 5 small meals per day is better than 3 large ones, as it prevents dips and spikes in insulin levels, keeping you energetic.

2) Make sure the foods you are choosing to eat are low on the glycemic index.

3) Drink lots of water. If you don't like plain water (much like me), don't add drink mixes to it. The body processes water as water, and anything else with a sugar content in it as food. (It gets absorbed at different spots in the digestive tract.) Try sparkling water, or water filtered through volcanic ash, instead. (Yeah, you'd be surprised at the taste.)

Be competitive:

Most importantly, with yourself. Did you hit the snooze button 5 times today? Try for 3 tomorrow morning! 3x15 reps of push-ups yesterday? Can you add another set today? Another half set? How much did you accomplish at work yesterday? Can you do a tiny bit more today?

Make sure each improvement is a small one, and pick ONE area per day to improve.

(Also, don't let anything else slip. Eeek! Get's complex doesn't it?)

More music, more walking:

Combining the two is ideal. Walking can actually GIVE you more energy, I know that sounds like crap, but a short jaunt of 10 or so blocks can wake you up better than a whole pot of coffee... without the shakes. Similarly, certain tempos of music can increase your heart rate, and also wake you up. What's currently on my "walking-wake-up" list?

- Blonde From Fargo :: well done and humorous, I love it
- David Bowie :: of course
- Casbah Club :: wish the album was longer, I'm the first in line for a full CD when it's released!
- Echo & The Bunnymen :: good follow-up for The Jam, I find
- The Jam :: forgotten childhood favourites (e.g. All Mod Cons album)
- Elton John :: still makes my heart flutter a little (childhood crush... yeah, I know)
- Juanes :: up-beat and happy
- Medeski, Martin & Wood :: f***ing brilliant
- Moscow Grooves Institute :: electronic, but cool conceptually
- The New Pornographers :: alright, I'll admit it, I'm enjoying this
- Novillero :: this band makes me want to start a record company just so I could sign them
- Seka :: electronic, yes, but I'm digging it at the moment (she programs in Logic)
- The Who :: honestly? I'm trying to figure out Pete's musical tendencies so I can see if they come up in The Method
- Yes :: a highly underrated band in my opinion

***P.S. There is no Pink Panther without Peter Sellers.

Sex with a Still Life

2006-03-04T11:39:00.000-08:00

JellyJar is updated.

A particular Art History professor that I had once hated Andy Warhol. If you wanted to waste an entire lecture, all you had to do was mention his name and the man would fly off into a rant about how trite and meaningless everything Andy ever did was.

I, on the other hand, hated that professor. He was a self-righteous, pretentious, talentless git. His art was absolute crap, and couldn't even be graced with a title such as wank. At least wank takes enough soul to have the will to self-abuse! His work was heartless.

Andy, on the other hand, is probably the only artist that I could identify with during my short time in the faculty of art. I loved his ability to thumb his nose at the whole art community, at the same time as loving what he did so intensely that it came through in his work as that "something else" that the greats have. Elements of composition and principles of design are completely meaningless without that "something else". I spent a great deal of my childhood exploring what EXACTLY this "something else" is, and have only experienced it a few times.

Once was during a piano recital, yes, an unpaid gig at a church hall just before Christmas Mass. I played a Chopin Mazurka that I had absolutely fallen in love with. It sounded nothing like any of the others (I had spent the last 4 months going through a compilation of ALL of Chopins Mazurkas), it sounded almost French. Large open spaces, small, poignant ornaments, and yearning chords. Yearning. That's the best way to describe that "something else". I said I had fallen in love with the song, and I think that is very accurate. My ability to "feel" within the spaces between the notes, waiting just long enough (within correct time of course) to make it HURT before I hit the keys for the next phrase. It was as if I wanted the next phrase so badly by the time it came it was a release of all that need for it. The audience picked up on that, and to be honest, even with all my technical ability, and some of the fastest or most difficult pieces I have every played, THAT was the only time I ever felt I had done something good musically. (This is why I'm not a musician. Anyone who knows me, knows how often I get asked why I'm not a musician. THERE is your answer, now stop asking!)

The second time was over a period of 5 months, while composing an artwork in graphite for a small Jamaican-Chinese man, the best art teacher I have ever had. He was able to show me the hypnotic trance of loving what you do, and the pre-planning that must go before it. Technical aspects must be taken care of before you can let yourself be swept up by the passion of the art itself. Like composing a song carefully, before emoting it to your audience on stage. Unfortunately, I gave the work to my mother in a brief moment of pride, expecting I-don't-know-what in return. It's probably in a box in her basement somewhere. As we don't speak anymore, there isn't any way I can obtain it to put it up for viewing here. Pity, it was also good.

I still spend hours upon hours searching for "that something". I want to harness it, and use it to create great things that even the ever-critical-I can affix with the label "good". It's not much to ask, and it's the world to me.

I once saw an Andy Warhol exhibit. I felt the same way as I did looking at the Picasso's and the Dali's in the Saatchi last May. I wanted to cry, I wanted to explode, I was the happiest I'd ever been in my life. There is something about seeing it all there on the canvas in front of you. Seeing the idea, the yearning, the release...

I love my Dandy Andy Warhol.

The ecstasy of a tangible art
Which lingers on the canvas
Like the shadow of hands
Left tingling on my skin
In the aquablue morning light

Inanimate objects lay submissive
As all models must be desired
The artist's pencil caressing form
As fingertips and lips through eyes
To ravish in the imagination
A swelling in the heart and soul

I need you but I musn't touch you
A sweet torture translated to graphite
For all to savour

The digeridoo player has absconded with the dirigible!

2006-03-02T20:53:00.000-08:00

I'm a really nice project manager... so long as you do your job!

"My suggestion to you is that you take some time tonight to thnk about how you can keep the next two milestones under control. You have been the only group member consistantly late with your assignments (even if only by 8 minutes), and the quality of your work has been continuously slipping as well. I'm trying to stay calm with you here, but I'm currently writing up your triage in good, and it sucks.

Please take some time to figure out a gameplan of how you are going to change this. I would like you to write up said plan and email it to me before Friday. (500 words)

Otherwise, quite frankly, I can't rely on you for anything important."

Here is the Milestone 1 Documentation that was changed. Alterations are marked in bold.

Here is the Milestone 2 Documentation, and here is it's appendix.

Compiling the two of these documents had me at a computer for 13hrs 20min STRAIGHT. I missed ITA, I consumed too much caffiene and other 'awake-makers', I managed to fall asleep standing while drawing on a white-board, I listened to entirely too much late night BBC (snow in Eastbourne! Wow!) and have got my accent back as a consequence. (My boss at work loves it, customers pay attention to me now, and my boyfriend is also a fan. :p).

Here is the status update on my Meshless Deformation project.

And very soon I shall have a proper project proposal here. (I'm in the process of composing it.)

...Would you like fries with that? (Shoot me now.)

What am I up to?

2006-02-26T18:26:00.000-08:00

This week, Stan Getz is the featured artist and time signatures will be discussed on The Jazzblog.

Listening to BBC Wiltshire over the internet, "Up All Night". I love this show. Discussion of Cancer in young people, cell division in embryos and how new information could be helpful to cloning, two new moons for Pluto, George Michael arrested, 'mad chicken' in France and Switzerland, and constant reminders of the last football match against Wigan. (I hate Manchester Utd!!!)

A nice cup of tea.

Revision of the first document for WriteOn (the children's word processor my Software Enigneering group is working on).

Overseeing the final stages of our second document for WriteOn, to be completed for Wednesday. (Almost everyone is organized... Finally, thank God!)

Epidsode 15 of Desperate Housewives.

Researching meshing algorithms for meshing point clouds, for an Implementation of Meshless Deformation based on Shape Matching I'm working on with a very talented group.

Writing up the good copy of my project proposal for the Simulation of Ink Dispersion in Paper.

Studying for my midterm on Tuesday, by going over the practice midterm.

Putting up a small teaser, as a test, on the JellyJar blog.

Work that makes my Heart Ache

2006-02-25T18:39:00.000-08:00

First, I must say that I miss my Partner-In-Crime/Artistic Director so much it hurts!! (The beautiful and extremely talented Amilee Hagon.) This is a picture she sent me from Japan, where she is currently working on the storyboard for our pet-project film Michael Koestenbaum's Mantelpiece. I'm currently supposed to be creating the character meshes, but have been side-tracked by school and work and everything else I can pick up in the Universe. As patient as always, she says she's willing to wait. She'd rather have me do my best work, than rush something in the middle of the night because I'm terrified of her wrath. Who am I kidding? The woman has no wrath!

We've discussed starting up a blog at the end of March, which we will use to showcase our film as it comes into being, as well as a few other projects. I've sent her the pdf's for Pete's Novella (The Boy Who Heard Music) and she agrees it might be fun to do up a short film based on the story. This would also appear on the blog.

This woman is probably one of the reasons I'm still alive today. Even when things were getting really bad in my life, it was a guarantee that if her and I got together, I would be sober and happily working. Together we could feel a sense of purpose and productivity. This hasn't changed, and as last week her grandmother passed away (God rest her soul), she felt a strong need to get back to work. Now my life is starting to get back on track, thanks in no small part to her, and I too feel compelled to head back to the Koestenbaum.

While I must remember to stay focussed on school, I have elected to start up the blog early, and put up sections of the Koestenbaum script. (Yeah, it's registered and if anyone tries to steal it I'll see you in court, yadda yadda. Actually, I'd probably be quite flattered... ) The wonderful thing about this film is not the content of the script, or the way it will be animated, but the combination of the two. The style of animation is based on the old woodcut prints found in the original Lewis Carroll novels, the 'plastic realism' of Final Fantasy, and a very complex human motion algorithm that I am devising to try and breath life into these characters.

This project is the type that makes my heart ache like a teenage schoolgirl's heart aches as she dreams of her favorite pop idol. It's a sorrow of what might, but probably will never be, yet an intense love of it anyways. A passion. A calling.

All the love in the world out to my dear Amilee, keep strong! I'd leave her with the advice my dad gave me about death "people die, it's sad, get on with life", but that might be cruel. Instead, I'll give her a light at the end of the tunnel to work towards... like the one she gave me.

JellyJar

Life is Always New

2006-02-24T00:01:00.000-08:00

Wake up one morning and realize

You haven't received a phone call
And think of this as a second chance
Although, you never finished your first

Walk ten blocks to work in the snow
Smile at chivalry you once thought dead
When a punk-adorned teenager
Proves you wrong and steps aside

Organizational skills are as important
As eating and sleeping and exercise
But remember the fun is in the things
That are totally out of your control

Be a fighter and a lover
Work hard, play hard, and listen to music
Go out and find the happiness
That won't come to you

Heart disease kills more women
Than all the types of cancer combined
So, in order to strengthen it
Use your heart more often

Fall in love with life

“I have only to wear black socks to be stigmatised as the demon overlord.”

2006-02-23T00:40:00.000-08:00

Your presence is requested by the King, so please attend
It's a small event of family, and those we pretend are family
But mostly a group of those we don't even like

There will be much whispering and pointing and rumors
And a few tsk, tsk thrown in for good measure
But smiles as you cross the room, and how wonderful you are

Trust me when I say that debate flows as freely as drink
But none of it is really meaningful, and tomorrow we'll have forgotten
Much like the lyrics of that catchy tune on the radio from several years back

"Even on planets you've never heard of, it's hard to discuss Hegel on a 98 decibel backdrop after thirteen pints of Tetley's when the object of your desire is wobbling his/her/its body parts at you. There's a time and a place for everything."

And this is not the time and place for airing dirty laundry
We are all well behaved, and speak of work and school
What are you up to lately, and irritatedly answering the same question again

"I don't remember whether the Dutch interview was referring particularly to Britain, America, heavy metal fans in Holland or the child prostitutes of Bombay."

Sarcasm is dangerous, loosened tongues will be taken too seriously
Shut up with non-committal answers, you wouldn't want to embarrass me
Would you, no of course not, with your opinion on the latest band

"I have heard their stuff before, because I wrote a great deal of it. They rip me off something rotten, and one day I'm going to give them a good kicking."

Oops. Where is the nearest exit? (With a grin)

It Feels Strange to Listen to That Song

2006-02-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

Jackie you yourself said it best when you said
"There's been a break in the continuum
The United States used to be lots of fun,"
Back when the man and the myth
Of the sands and the cliffs
Composed a symphony to good works... and better business

Jackie you yourself said it best when you said
"One day we'll look upon a washed up Atlantic
Get our kicks on an ocean of antics,"
And making history has never been so easy

So visualise success, but don't believe your eyes
There's a world of wisdom and pain to despise

When people get paid just to set you straight it means...

Are you going to stop the sunshine?
Are you going to stop the sunshine?
Are you going to stop the sunshine?
Are you going to stop the sunshine?
Are you going to stop the sunshine?
Are you going to stop the sunshine?

Visualize success!
Visualize success!
Visualize success, but don't believe your eyes
What's a version of the world without the will to despise it?

When people get paid just to set you straight it means
Jackie! hey hey hey

TO LISTEN TO IT - CLICK HERE

Two N's

2006-02-19T17:27:00.000-08:00

[Currenly working on THIS - see project proposal]

Novillero - opening act with the craziest fucking tambourine player I've ever seen

I have to cackle aloud with glee
Spasmic tambourine player is the first thing I see
Book-end, bass-playing brothers I'm keen
Rock out that jingle frisbee there inbetween
I wanna tell the drummer he really shouldn't sing
Let alone Bacharach of all bloody things
These boys appeal to my twisted-up humour
And for a brief moment I see it and am sure
Quickly I grab the tambourine man's name
Before the stone-faced guitar returns to ruin my game
He signs and it takes a minute for me to truly see
That vicious-virtuoso has the same name as me
(I've suggested they get up on IAC)

The New Pornographers - Of course they were fabulous! This is Canada, for god sakes...

Buzzing thick-framed glasses
Pretense milling around the lobby
It's the excitement I never feel
Give me something to put my hands to
And I'll be a happy girl

The band beginning kills the buzz
They are good, they are on,
And the faces around me still look excited
No one moves a muscle but the girl behind me
Rocking out in isolation

Here in front of the sound man
Where the blacklight meets the orange spot
There is enough energy for me to get lost
Sway and bounce happily with the music
But these damn indie-kids
They don't dance at all

Pierre Etienne Bezier

2006-02-15T12:55:00.000-08:00

(1910-1999)
Bezier's academic career began in 1968 when he became Professor of Production Engineering at the Conservatoire National des Arts et Metiers. He held this position until 1979. He wrote four books, numerous papers and received several distinctions including the "Steven Anson Coons" of the Association for Computing Machinery and the "Doctor Honoris Causa" of the Technical University Berlin. He is an honorary member of the American Society of Mechanical Engineers and of the Societe Belge des Mecaniciens, ex-president of the Societe des Ingenieurs et Scientifiques de France, Societe des Ingenieurs Arts et Metiers, and he was one of the first Advisory Editors of "Computer-Aided Design".

The interesting thing about doing projects in Computer Graphics is that the inventors of these methods are usually still alive. This is very much a dynamic learning environment. Sometimes, you choose a project based on an interest in the subject, only to later find out that your instructor pioneered the field. Such a thing has happened to me. I chose a project in the area of Non-Photorealistic Rendering, only to buy the definitive text on the topic and read the first two chapters about the professor I am to submit the project to. No pressure or anything...

However! The Computer Graphics program can't simply put you to work on projects and leave you be, no that wouldn't test your sanity as intended. So here is a small assignment that I have laboured over this weekend in the area of Bezier curves and B-Splines. (And for this assignment I am grateful that Bezier isn't marking it.)

The basic idea of a Bezier curve is you have several control points. These control points are combined with basis functions (which add up to one), which in the Bezier case are predetermined. These basis functions are set up in a way so as to "interpolate" a curve inbetween the points. It's pretty ugly, but if you REALLY are interested you can look at the math in the written part of the assignment HERE.

Tendonitis: Wake-the-fuck-up people!

2006-02-14T15:45:00.000-08:00

This just makes me HOPPING mad! I had a conversation with a percussionist yesterday, yet another aspiring musician who has had to put her dream on hold because of repetitive stress injury. Let me say first off, it just isn't worth it! All the hours of practice you put in won't mean a DAMN THING if you cripple yourself in the process. This is extremely serious.

Marimba is a particularly bad instrument for tendonitis, but switching to the Burton grip instead of Stevens can help if you intend to be playing for long periods at a time.

Also, learn to hold your sticks correctly, and make sure you strike with your palms down.

Last, but not least, get away from the drums every once in a while, and DO SOMETHING ELSE. A little rest from practice can offer you a fresh perspective, and may even end up saving your career.

Holy geez, I'm still hopping mad about this... for more information, please go HERE.

Mass Romantic - New Pornographers

2006-02-12T19:45:00.000-08:00

Mass romantic fool, wears Foster Grants, his books on tape ring true,
Like everyone wants to say "I love you" to someone on the radio.
His choice of hollowed stars, now the one true loves,
And author of "My Life Among the Kids Who Go to Shows" -
This is not the way.

In the streetlight dawn
In the streetlight dawn
This beat turns on.

Mass romantic fool, separated by sheets.
When the curtain calls
You speaking on the themes of stolen virtue, missing from the radio.
Now this romantic duel is into the streets. Bon Appetite,
You've eaten me alive.
You realize this is not the way.

In the streetlight dawn
In the streetlight dawn
This beat turns on.

This boy's life among the electrical lights.

Christian Bök & Loser Poets

2006-02-10T19:03:00.000-08:00

[I love this image]

WORD SILO: At McNally Robinson Booksellers, 120 8th Ave. SW:
7 p.m. THURSDAY, MARCH 23

"The Failure of Poetry, or Why Are Poets Such Losers?"
with Dr. Christian Bök

Famed innovative Canadian poet Dr. Christian Bök leads a session examining artistic failure. "Writing can be a Herculean, if not a Sisyphean, task," he says, "that often takes a toll upon its practitioners, many of whom must commit to their artistic vocation with only the scantiest promise of success. Even the most extolled authors have had to endure bouts of failure, contending with editorial dismissal, chemical addiction, aesthetic paralysis and more. How do poets transform their own condition of failure into success?"

Three years ago I hear Christian perform some sound poetry at a reading of his new book Eunoia. I have to admit, the idea behind Eunoia was really cool, but the sound poetry caught me off guard. Having studied art history and the dadaist movement, I have somewhat of an idea of what to expect... And then Christian gets up there, looking like he's on the verge of hurting himself, and gives me a whole other perspective on Dada.

Here is a sample from Eunoia, by the fascinating and extremely loud Chrisitan Bök.

Edward Gorey

2006-02-08T12:42:00.000-08:00

Politically correct what?

Perlin

2006-02-07T20:55:00.000-08:00

Perlin is standing on the platform
Black army boots clenched into the cement
Like vulture claws in dead meat
Rising from the top of them
Two milk white curves, freshly shaved
Flirting with the frostbitten air
Before plunging up into a short black skirt
Wearing a pea green army coat

Closing her eyes, she feels the air
A train door swoosh welcome
And leaning against the empty booth wall
She clutches a black square bag
Which runs a music lifeline into her brain
Eyes closed, wistful smile
Is she sleeping or dreaming
Or singing tears through Portuguese caustics?

Like the fluid ink swirling from a pen
Betrays the muscular spasms in the hand
Which give life to it, she sighs
Much more slowly than the rattling in her brain
Volumetric modelling, data collected from CT scans
There can't be any artistic license
When lives are at stake
The fourth dimension has an odd effect on Perlin

Why is it so much easier to fall in love
With an eloquent solution to a problem
Than a human being that is more likely
Not to be a problem? Not a project?
Perlin leans against the wall and listens
She thinks about weaving melodies,
Counter-point, and harmonies
Diffuse haze and soft shadows shaded
By algorithms humming with math

Perlin starts awake and steps off the train to persue safety
"He's my boss. I'm allowed to sexually harass my boss."