kesey

Look out

I've been breaking out the poetry.

KITCHEN GODDESS

Shredding red peppers
Sweet and spice into sauce
Skinny sliced tomale
Garlic near to thin
So paper thin

The Kitchen Goddess dances
With Anodyne pumpin out the stereo
Swinging some hip and groove
Dicing tomatoes with basilico
Feeling livened
I rest pleased
When have I been so at ease?

Pots simmer sauces under lids
A controlling eye and arm
Mistress of the marinade
Forever I will saute

Comfort of wooden spoon
And sharpened knife
I can take it all on
In this kitchen, dancing

I love this unemployed thing

For now anyway

I forgot how much I love cooking. It was rare that I would come home from work and get excited about making a meal. The energy was low, time was an issue. I used to get home between seven and eight thirty. I'd be very hungry. I get cranky hungry too.

Now. Well, now I'm cooking. Now I'm breaking out all those kick ass things I used to make. I'm making all those things I was thinking about making but was too knackered to tackle.

The Kitchen Goddess is back and she likes things spicy!

Another First

Pretty Woman

I flat out refused to see it when it came out. Flat out refused to watch it whenever it was on the telly on a sleepy weekend day. I happened upon my boyfriend gazing at the tv screen in a hungover and happy way one day. Watching Pretty Woman. The man who has seen Dirty Dancing countless times, was also a fan of Pretty Woman. It was a frightening moment. It was a "maybe things won't work out between us" moment. I sucked it up. I stopped being a snob. I watched Pretty Woman.

Pretty Woman was on the telly again tonight. I asked Paco how many times he's seen it. He couldn't tell me.

Julia's big hair and Richard's grey suited miasma, how middle America spells romance.
It's certainly no Princess Bride, which is how kooky chicks spell romance...with giggles.

FIRST TIMES AND NEVERS

I saw an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for the first time a few months ago. It's true.

Magnum PI, Murder She Wrote and all of the night time soaps except for Soap) remain unseen.

I've veiwed a mere handful of Seinfeld episodes. That whole "remember when George and Elaine" Seinfeld anecdote thing that other people do gets a blank stare from me.

Never seen Knight Rider, Baywatch or Melrose Place.

I saw my first episode of the A-Team last summer. It was late night viewing in our hotel room after a wedding. Hulk Hogan was special guest starring. I was drunk and it was weird. They were all Crazy.

I saw Austin Powers in action before James Bond.
My first James Bond flick was two years ago. It was an old one. He dressed up as a Japanese man.
I hear that was feasible at the time.

Sabbatical

I had my week of holiday.
I spent it well, junking out on Diablo, planting herbs and puttering.
Now I have to fit actively pursuing employment into my busy schedule of hanging out.
The resume looks fantastic, I had to do some editing.
"Boss of my universe" seemed a little too confident.

Onward and upward.

Rundgren Again

I finally did it.
I called someone and actually said,
"Hello, it's me."
It is something that I've always found a little weird or slightly vain in other people.
"Hi, It's ME!" umm, ok, but Who Are you?
Perhaps the confident assumption bothered me.

That's not entirely it though.

Hello, It's Me
is a great song by Todd Rundgren.
Not many folks my age or younger know who the hell Todd is.

Everytime I pick up the phone to hear someone say "Hello, it's me,"
I get totally bummed that they don't break into song.

Vain Du Soliel

I wore cut-off running pants to work out in today.
I call them cut-off running pants because I have issues regarding "trackpants" or "sweatpants."
I also call most pants "trousers" rather than pants. I just like saying trousers better than saying pants.
All that neurosis aside, I was wearing shorts today at the gym. Ah glorious shorts.
My legs are as white as my little cotton tennis socks and my spiffy shoes.
No kidding. Shocked the hell out of me as I caught myself in the mirror.
(And don't you just love that about the gym, all the mirrors?)
Fish belly with freckles.

Fake tan, here I come.

HARPO

So I open the back door to let her in.
There she is rolling on the cement in her fur covered glory.
Soaked in pear tree blossom petals.
Meowing at a shubbery.

Good with the physical humour, that cat.

Now that I'm unemployed, I mean - on sabbatical - I just don't seem to have the time to blog.
Titter.

I have been chained to a desk for the past few years.
I am on sabbatical. Yay, sabbatical.....

No Bubbly

Just a load of vodka. None of which I had to pay for.
Good friends.

Offers of help and a shocking amount of supportive clients standing behind me.
A lot of congratulations.

Now comes all of the brainstorming, planning and getting together for drinks.... I mean...lunch.
Also comes my first shit music free week in years.
No more bad office music.

I finally have a vacation in sunshine.

I'm going to go buy some bubbly with my vacation pay!

LAID OFF!

Now I know where my feelings of foreboding were coming from. I've just been laid off. Am damn happy. No more embarssment from being at an agency with a bad name.No more hearing how I'm the good thing at a bad place. I am rather excited about taking the time to switch gears.

Time to get on with world domination. Or at least riding my bike around, hanging out and being groovy for awhile.

I ROCK

BOURBON MOON

I'm all about the lunar eclipse tonight.
It's too bad the weather is getting bleak and rainy
.
Kind of ruins the plan I had to climb Machu Pichu after work.
To sit and gaze at the world.

A bottle of hootch, some magic and the red hued moon.

Runnin' and Hoppin'

Beer tastes much, much better after a good workout.
It's why I work out.

I was so thirsty for a beer last night that I decided to lug a 12 pack home with me via the TTC. I pretty much skipped into the Beerstore outside my gym. Beer lust radiated from my smiling face. This Beerstore has a grocery store type set up. You go into the walk-in refrigerated area and grab what you want. Buffet of beer.
I stood in the Beerstore inspired and enchanted by the variety. My usual hoser Labatt 50 was only available in cans. Seeing no tailgate party on the horizon of the evening, I declined. Ah, Conner's Best Bitter, memories of The Gem and riding my bike home half pissed flooded me. Mmm, Conner's....mmm.

Later, as my arms began to ache with lugging the weight of my 12 pack of yummy glorious beer, I remembered the Beerstore located a mere three minute walk from my home. I was calling myself a jackass but still smiled, thinking about how much better something is when you have to put some work into it.

I read about Rob's Amazing Poem Generator at this nifty guy's site.
Here is the FreakGirlSpew result.....

freakgirlspew It and a fairly juiced at
El Convento
Rico. We were on Laverne saying
that leads from noticing this thing and
split.
I have these dudes
off. I was
of
how much that leads from
the rest of me
Maybe they stood around We had a
fort. ME:
and not because
I smiled.

Hey! I WAS fairly juiced at El Convento Rico...Very Insightful generator....

Fear and Loathing

It's the working of my own sense of societal observation that for some owning a BMW translates to "I'm Very Classy, see?"

I work near a BMW dealership.
People bring their cars into this dealership for maintenance.
The garage employees drive those 'luxury' cars around the way you'd imagine Hunter S.Thompson would drive whilst being chased by hallucinogenically summoned harpies with giant flaming axes and Holy Bibles.

It's pretty fun.

Left Guard

We were in Grade two or three. The grade right before boys decide girls are hideous. We all waited for the day we'd be old enough to have recess on the other side of the school. Then we'd be on the big kid side of the school. We naively believed they wouldn't just taunt us and then beat us up for sport. We thought being on the big kids' side would be worth the torture. I laugh to think of how I couldn't wait to grow up and be cool. Like I would magically grow out of being a spaz. Like I was the ugly duckling who would turn into a swan.

We left for home at four o'clock with the school bells Pavlovian chime. It was winter. Walking past the metal framed windows ( which invited us to get our tongues stuck in frozen torture), we saw a vision. A half igloo, a cover station, a fort. The place from which we knew could throw snowballs and be protected. The big kids built it over recess that afternoon.

We gazed at it longingly. We could never use it with the big kids around. We had to have a snowball fight after school, after the big kids went away. We planned.

THEM:Guard the fort. We'll go home and get provisions. Guard the fort.
ME:But I'm by myself.
THEM: We'll be back soon. Guard the fort.
ME:Ok, hurry up.

I waited.
I putzed around a little trying not to think of big kids coming to take back their fort and kick my ass at the same time. I made snowballs to bombard the boys with upon their return. It would be my price for having to wait. Waiting.....

Time goes by rather slowly when you are waiting in the cold.
I grew bored. I grew suspicious. It was cold. They'd been gone a long time. Maybe their parents wouldn't let them come back. Maybe they lied to me. Maybe they were tricking me. Maybe they were hiding on the path, watching and laughing at me. Maybe they decided to turn on the only girl in the group. I scanned the horizon hopefully. The wind caught my face and made my eyes tear. I was kinda crying anyway, though I tried hard not to. I kicked apart all of my snowballs. So upset that I didn't even think of throwing them anywhere.

I went home with my head hung down and arrived to Campbell's chicken noodle soup and saltine crackers. I was puffy-faced and sad.

The next day the boys asked me where I disappeared to, swearing up and down that they had returned to find me gone.

I didn't believe them.

Almost 31st Level

Played Diablo II all day yesterday, taking a break to watch Rosemary's Baby.
Today I am getting fresh air, I opened the windows and everything.
Dweeb.

It's More Funner Than You Think

Happy Punk Rock weekend!
Oh, you're not going to be Punk Rock this weekend?
Why not?
Just try a little bit.
Hum a few bars and wiggle your toes dammit!
Lively up!

Fried Day

I'm trying to think up something to make up for the sheer "vacuousity" of my last post.
I am wildly and fiercely goofy.

CELEBRITY SKIN

Yesterday evening a total stranger gave me the dreaded
"You know who you remind me of?"
Me: No I don't know who I remind you of.
Her: The Sabrina the Teenage Witch girl!
Me: Who?
Her: You know, what's her name?
Me: I don't know. I'll look it up though. Thanks.
I didn't want to insult her, she was so excited about it.

Melissa Joan Hart. Turns out I had seen her before but thought she was Leanne Rimes.
The reason I know who Leanne Rimes is because I'm a smart ass.
Rhymes with what? She a rappa? What?

I thought about it and got very peevish.
Peevish about the media. Peevish about image and the beauty industry.
Peevish about our North American bullshit mentality.

Why would I let anyone else's perception of me affect my self image?

Then I got happy again.
I've been told that I've got a Kate Hudson thing going on (though I'm not small or blonde - I'll take it).
And a Drew Barrymore similarity thing happening.
Then I thought about being a hypocrite.
And then I thought: that's all right, Drew Barrymore is hot.

BIRTHDAY MOMENT

I SAID NO CAKE!

BIRTHDAY MOMENT

On the treadmill at the gym.

Me: Fuck it, it's my Jesus year. I'm doing a half hour on this thing and going for Thai food with the girls.
Muttering followed "Sweatin' on my birthday...sacrelidge...what was I thinkin'?"

BIRTHDAY MOMENT

At The Matador

Me: Thank you
Guy: Why?
Me: For not hitting on me. This place is letchy dude.

Birthday Party Moment.

Paco: Here's your martini. It's called The Pixie. I made it for you.
Me: Ok, thanks honey.

Paco walks away totally bummed because I didn't even care that he'd created a special martini for me. Just for my Birthday.
I turn around and ask Lynch more about XMen II ( "You need to tell me about Nightcrawler"), noting how cool it was of the bar owners to let Paco just get behind the bar and make his own drinks like that.

It was funny later on when I was told that The Pixie was all about me.
As in Paco planning the creation of a martini as part of the birthday bash. As in Paco talking to the bar owners about putting The Pixie on the menu. As in Paco having a very important gathering of mixologists, connoisseurs and boozehounds to design, test, and taste the Pixaliscious blend. As in Paco surprising me with The Pixie.

Paco: Here's the drink I made you. It's called The Pixie
Me: Ok, thanks honey.

Sorry Paco, at least it's a funny story.
Signed,
Your Ungrateful, Oblivious Girlfriend

Miss Pronunciation

My family were on a camping trip together a few years ago. Sweet. We were merrily drinking, having a wicked good time.
We were playing Trivial Pursuit.

Have you ever had a Les Nessman moment?

Jimmer read the question....said the name..."Chy Chy Rodriggwas."
The rest of us looked at each other. What did he just say?
It took a moment, it really did. Then we all started laughing hysterically.
Later, I kept giggling myself out of sheep counting as I tried to get to sleep.
Jimmer is the greatest guy, really he is. I'm a lucky gal to have two Dads.
He was just a little tipsy.

"Just a quick second" she sweetly purred into her headset.
I clenched my teeth in horror and anger.
Quick second.
It's not nice of me, I know.
Quick second?
Moron.

Choking on my rage, just like the evil hippy.

YUMMY

No, Peanut Butter cookies aren't a good lunch.
Yes, I am going to the gym tonight.

ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY ONE MARTINI'S
..... how I got to smash my cake and eat it too

Something about ringing in my Jesus Year ( See entry 4/22/03) in Little Italy at a bar called "Temptation"
seemed very Martin Scorsese to me. Pretty much all similarity (but for supposed sacriledge) ended there.

SURPRISES!
"The Pixie." My boyfriend created a martini for my Birthday. They were fun to order. "I'll have three Pixies please!" I'm still not sure what was in it, but we sure drank a lot of them. Thank you for all the hard work Paco & the taste testers.

The Cake. After me asking specifically for no cake, someone brought out a cake. I nervously searched for an exit route. I went down to the bathroom. Told myself that there is nothing wrong with people sing Happy Birthday to me. Felt like Tim Roth in Reservoir Dogs ( I'm Cool like Beretta). Put on some lipstick. Didn't feel like Tim Roth anymore. Cake's just embarassing, feel the love. I came up form the loo.There was the dreaded Birthday cake. Someone handed me a mallet with a bow on it. Dammit, they were all looking at me and singing. The cake was a chocolate, cake-shaped 'shell'. People were singing. I stared at the cake.
A SMASH CAKE!
Happy Birthday Dear Freak Girl...SMASH!....Happy Birthday to you....
I got to smash my cake. I really enjoyed that.

Great music, great DJ.

I did very well posture-wise considering it was my Birthday and all. I sat down a few times, was hardly wobbly at all in general. I had a nice, happy glow going on. Ten martini's for the Birthday girl. Only ten. I didn't get spastic. Enough to make me a little woozy yet functional yesterday.

What a great crowd!
Thanks to everyone for making it such a great night. My friends are wicked good fun.
Oh the love. Dancing. Drinking. Shenanigans and The Matador.
It was my favourite Birthday so far.

Remember this Martini bash was my birthday and all, but really just a warm up for INSOMNIA's record of Two Hundred and Twenty Two martini's.
Details to follow......

Thanks for the love everybody!

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!

And I'm the Princess Of The Garden of Eden.

INNER THIGH BEARD

Do you remember Laverne saying that on Laverne and Shirley?
They got pretty risque after they moved into the sun, didn't they?

Does ANYONE else remember this?

Koo Koo Pants

I am annoying my boyfriend to my very own horrifyingly feindish delight.
I am extremely excited about having a martini record breaking birthday bash tomorrow.
Paco has taken care of all the details.
My job is to keep annoying him about everything.
I've been calling him regularly.
"Did you tell everyone about the patio?"
"Did you invite my brother?"
"Did you make dinner reservations?"
"Are you going to propose to me in front of a million people? Oh wait it's my birth-day party"
"If I was a martini, what kind would I be?"
"Why don't you think my star studded wrist bands look even a bit like Wonder Woman's wristbands?"
"If my head was limberger cheese, how much would it cost?"
"Are you taking me for dinner?"
"Where?"
"If I wore pink could you keep a straight face?"
"If I wore pink do you think I could keep a straight face?"
"I'm feeling kinda high from the painkillers."

A bit of a maniac really

For one thing they have just announced the Miss Hooters Canda Contest.
That's proof that I live in a world that makes little sense.

Then there's me.
Ate a nice sandwich for lunch.
I don't have sandwiches often, so that was almost exciting.
Then started on some "crudite,"
or, as I like to say "cut up raw vegetables."

I have a few.
They're so good.
I'm full.
but they're so good.
I keep eating them.

I'm stuffing myself.
I'm uncomfortable.
They're So Good Though.

A little bit nuts.

Mmmm....nuts.

Another Birthday.

I was four, put into a frilly dress.
Being the only girl in the family,
my Aunts tended to bomb me with girlie things which I rarely wore.

I was made to open my gifts.
I was posed for the camera in my new pastel itchy polyester clothes.

Good behaviour meant cake, and friendly adults.

Cake time. I was told to take my frilly dress off. I was ecsatic.
There I stood in my undershirt and 'panties' (as all my female relatives called them).

They all start singing Happy Birthday and bring out a cake..
Ummm...hello? I'm in my underwear.
Time for Birthday cake.
I'm IN MY UNDERWEAR!
Right, blow out the candles.
NOT FAIR IN MY UNDERWEAR!

Me Crying. Adults laughing.
Me: You don't have to eat YOUR BIRTHDAY CAKE IN YOUR UNDERWEAR!
Bales of adult laughter.
I get handed my slice of cake in a lame adult attempt to assuage the tears.
The fine art of distraction didn't work.
I was thoroughly miserable.

SNAP! There's the photograph.
My older relatives smiling and laughing in the background.
Even my Grandfather (traitor).
Me crying in the foreground.
Big forkful of cake pointed to my downturned mouth.

NOT FAIR.

I learned that adults were tricky bastards who were not to be trusted.

CHICKETY CHINA
THE CHINESE CHICKEN

It always makes me laugh....
I just can't help it.
When it enters my head.
It doesn't leave for days.

Now I've infected the office with it.
Lyrical SARS.
Damn Bear Nekkid Rabies and
their catchy assness.
I feel shame.