blessed are the easily amused

Friday, April 30, 2004


Why is everyone always singing and happy on the French side of work? I think they've designed a defense system against fluorescent lights and melancholy, and it's powered by show tunes. Think how happy they must be when they're at home, having sex.

If I start learning French now, I may be able to parlez my way into the happy cubicles by 2010.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

making a procras out of tin and ate

When you assume, you make an ass out of u and me .

When you procrastinate, you nearly ruin some of the best moments in your future life, and it's really bad, so you shouldn't do it.

If anyone can tell me why I do it, why, I'll... call them back right away. Promise.

Friday, April 23, 2004

fast times

OK, it's not really a fast - we eat. But the flaky guy in the book we read calls it a fast.

Days one through five were trials, each offering their own separate horror. But on the sixth day, God created Lisa, and she was fucking awesome.

Next I will write an ecstatic love ode to the broccoli sprout. I gotta stay busy.

word of the day

Indefatigable - incapable or seemingly incapable of being fatigued; tireless.

And that, folks, is me. I am not fatigued by the insidious green of the fluorescents. I am not fatigued by the willowy girls with good hair who snub me. I am not fatigued by the mountain of parking tickets I see hiding under that phone book. I am indefatigable. And the beauty, the true beauty of telling you this is that I don't have to try to pronounce it.

definitely like drugs

This is weird. But don't worry. I think it's good. I feel so very very good today. But jumpy. I can feel my cells dancing, shaking their newly clean electron booties. I want to swim in the sun. I want to sing. I especially want to laugh.

I said, "Yeah, I feel all jumpy and stuff this morning, I have so much energy! Too bad I'm going to cbc - it'll be about as useful as having energy in a morgue."

Sam said, "Call in jumpy."

Thursday, April 22, 2004

late bloomer

Here begins the story of my demise. Almost certainly.

I just signed up for a 10,000 dollar line of credit. This is a whole different thing than the Canadian Tire card. I bet this is what it feels like to get a gun. I could just screw up so badly right now. Help me be good, fairy godwaitress! I mean godmother. mmph. cheese. I smell sauce.

like drugs, but cheaper

And then today I skipped out of the house on a wave of uncharacteristic physical energy. Like a caffeine buzz. I still feel kind of stunned and spacy, but my voice sounds perky like a Chianti waitress (You mean the ravioli quattro formaggio? Oh, sure! You bet. I'll just get you some more bread to munch on!).

It figures that my instant scenario involves food. Last night as we were driving home, Sam said, "You know, I'm going to start cooking really excellent food when we're done this. I think I could make a really great pizza with a homemade thin crust, nice piquant tomato sauce - I'd put artichoke hearts and maybe some shrimp-"

And then we veered off the road and smashed into pizza hut and had to be pulled from the saliva-drenched wreckage.

Just kidding. We're actually doing OK, she said perkily.

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

the new viagra commercial

What's with Franz lately? The guy whose first language is growl has a spring in his step. The other day, on the way back from a shoot, he took a detour down a sunny, leafy lane and drove as slowly as he could without stopping. We looked at the houses and picked out our favourites. It took him blocks to notice that cars were creeping along behind us. He said, "God, I hate people who gawk at everything but the road - I hate myself!"

Brittainy noticed it too. She reported that when she offered him baby carrots, he took two and stuck them in his nose, nestled amid his silver handlebar moustache. Fantastic.

I'm so healthy I could cry

Nothing but organic fruits and vegetables for three, going on four, days now. What on earth am I thinking? Undoubtedly something like this:

If I do this, it will give me superpowers that allow me to overcome pesky self-doubt.

It will also placate Sam for a moment so he'll forget that I'm a totally weak slob, with my smoking and drinking and coffee and chicken and all the other good things in life.

Oh, God - the thought of a dark, voluptuous mug of coffee warming my hands is actually making me dizzy.

Saturday will be the last day - if I haven't sprouted a cape and golden bustier by then, I will resume eating human-style. You know, it's a great idea. I'm sure that unbeknownst to me my colon is rejoicing, having a little garden party down there. I will have probably added a good 30 seconds to my life. It's great. Fuck.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

there must be an instructional video for this

Back from Edmonton and Wendy's Goodbye feeling a little different. Tentatively, quietly wanting to start living. A little out of practice, as I'm excellent at burrowing. You can't help but feel a little shamed when you've seen people undertake the business of grieving and honouring in earnest. There's something to be learned about respect in that - respect for life, self, and the people you let into your world. I've always erred on the side of not taking myself too seriously. But perhaps a little too far on that side. Because as hilarious as life is, it's also the biggest gift. Letting it slide past is sort of like saying, 'yeah thanks, whatever' for the painstakingly handmade gift given to you by someone who really, really loves you.

Sunday, April 04, 2004

I'm trying to add a comment option here, which is about as simple for me as putting on lip gloss with an egg beater. But I'm quite excited about the possibility of all you kooks and crazies out there being able to respond to me. (All both of you.) Shivers.