Hi universe,
This morning, I wish I could say that I awoke to the sounds of my wonderful contractors bringing in our beautiful new tiles- I would be lying. I was deep under the covers lamenting my choice to drink double ceasars on a Tuesday night.... but the promise of a new floor coupled with a Venti starbucks bold was just the cure to what would have otherwise been a disastrous day (oh, and obvi a slice of bacon or 5).
So while I spend my day anticipating seeing the first real transformation of my kitchen to be, I can enjoy recalling last night. Where was I that warranted such unnecessary drinking? You could find me on the floor at the Coldplay concert at the ACC sitting next to my beautiful friend singing at the top of our lungs.
Now, I begin with this: last summer when I was heading to Lollapolluza with Coldplay as a headliner, I barfed. To me it seemed like a perfectly good waste of a stage to have such a lame-o band perform. I learned fast that just because my mom knows as many songs as I do, just because every song they make assaults the radio, and just because they are, for all intensive purposes, one of the most popular “pop” bands out there does not mean they don’t kill it.
It was one of the best concerts I have ever been to. That so many people have been exposed to their music only made it all the more amazing to listen to the entire audience sing along to every word. That they have been so successful is likely partially due to the fact that they are even better live than recorded (and that Chris Martin is super hot).
Anyways, I totes get that there will always be haters who roll their eyes at the mere suggestion that Coldplay is a good band but whateves- yucking other peoples yums is mean.
In the meantime, I spent the whole 2 hour show smiling like a child. It was so fun and our seats were to die for. There was confetti, there was balloons and blow up shapes and tons of lights and lasers and glitter. They handed out these wristbands that f-ing lit up to the music- everyone had a different color and the stadium looked like a starry circus.
But best of all, the band came and played one of my favorite love songs about 4 rows away from me in the audience. If I had go-go gadget arms, I would have been able to touch them.
Anywho, no need to guild the lily, just saying that it was a wicked show and I love them is all.
Perhaps the only disappointment of the evening was no GOOP sightings. And trust, I looked.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Fat Bastard
Dear fat asshole on the subway,
Hi. You don’t know me but I am fairly new to the Bloor Danforth line having just moved a few weeks ago. I am getting acclimated to my area and more used to the new transit route I take to work. On most days, even today up to the point where we met, I love my new route.
Unlike the Yonge line of my former life, the Bloor line is calm, peaceful and easy. I have never found myself elbowed, shoved, rammed into a strangers armpit or touched. In fact, I find more often than not I have room enough to stand or sit with a book- that, for anyone who knows the subway system, is huge.
Sure, I realize that it is summer and that come September the numbers of people on my route may change with kids going back to school and whatnot- but alls I can say is last summer on the Yonge line I found myself in a daily battle of “should I walk home in the unbearable heat, sweat through my work clothes and dehydrate completely” or “get on the over packed sweaty subway”. Haven't ever had that feeling on Bloor.
Now, it seems like a bratty thing to do, to complain that you have no AC right now in your house because you chose to gut your kitchen and rebuild it into the kitchen of your dreams and in order to do that the contractors had to cut a wall out and thus eliminate the vent from basement to bedrooms- but know this. I lived without AC for 2 summers. I slept with bags of ice, cuddled wet cloths to sooth my body temperature. I took ice cold showers, employed fans galore and NEVER have I ever experienced the heat like last night.
Where I once complained that my unit was on the ground floor and thus got a plethora of centipedes, I knew not how incredibly hot it gets one floor up from the ground. I may have reconsidered my position.
At one point, the heat was so intense that it felt as if there was no air at all in the room. I think I may have awoke choking on the wet, unmoving, overly bothersome air.
Although we ended up in the guest bedroom which was a whole 1 degree cooler, I still woke up with wet hair... And by woke up, I mean actually got out of bed because I sure as shit didn’t sleep last night. Not one little wink. I rather cursed the heat, cursed it being Sunday night/ Monday morning, cursed the exhausted day that lay before me, cursed my snoring husband...
Anywho, I digress because the whole purpose of this letter is to tell you how much I dislike you and ranting about my house is hardly a way to garner sympathies.
But, to note, I woke up a living zombie- there was one point where I tried to rise from bed and in a moment of pure tiredness, I fell halfway off the bed and actually fell asleep in that totally abnormal position for 10 minutes.
It was my delight to find my bus, as usual, had ample seating for me so I could sit, get into my book and doze a bit on my way to the subway.
The subway too, as usual, had seats available and more than enough standing room to place myself in. I entered a particular car and on said car there were 3 empty seats. 2 were immediately taken by fellow subway boarders,1 remained empty so that you, fat bastard, had a place for half your ass and your briefcase.
Now, fat bastard, I have been aboard many a subway with people your size and I assure you that with some careful maneuvering, you can fit your whole ass on one seat- but moreover, did you briefcase need a seat to itself.
Did your poor briefcase have a bad night’s sleep too and arise to find itself in a total state of poopedness? Perhaps your briefcase had a foot injury?
Obvi none of that happened, dick, so why oh why, when I came and hovered over the seat hoping that like a good TTC rider you would acknowledge how rude you were being and remove the briefcase so I could sit down in the seat I obviously was aiming for- did you do nothing?
That is just not nice.
I know you saw me trying to get that seat and that you actively ignored me- well let me tell you a little something mister.... I would love to have rows of the TTC to myself too. I would love to spread out a disposable blanket, break out a prepackaged airplane pillow and fucking take a nap on my 10 minute ride. I would love to sprawl all my crap out, not put my precious gym bag on the dirty floor- I would love to put up my feet in the seat beside me every single time- what stops me is the same thing that stops me from saying what I think with no chance for digestions- it is called a social filter and its purpose is to make sure you do shit that is socially acceptable. Hogging 2 seats on the public transit system, I would say, is a felony no matter how big your ass is.
So hear this dude- I will forever (probs for a day or 2) be watching for you- waiting for the moment when you get on the subway after me and look longingly for somewhere to park your load. I will be sitting beside my precious lunch box who will, of course, have had a wild night and therefore in need of a solo seat. I hope you sweat standing.
Thank you,
Jane
Hi. You don’t know me but I am fairly new to the Bloor Danforth line having just moved a few weeks ago. I am getting acclimated to my area and more used to the new transit route I take to work. On most days, even today up to the point where we met, I love my new route.
Unlike the Yonge line of my former life, the Bloor line is calm, peaceful and easy. I have never found myself elbowed, shoved, rammed into a strangers armpit or touched. In fact, I find more often than not I have room enough to stand or sit with a book- that, for anyone who knows the subway system, is huge.
Sure, I realize that it is summer and that come September the numbers of people on my route may change with kids going back to school and whatnot- but alls I can say is last summer on the Yonge line I found myself in a daily battle of “should I walk home in the unbearable heat, sweat through my work clothes and dehydrate completely” or “get on the over packed sweaty subway”. Haven't ever had that feeling on Bloor.
Now, it seems like a bratty thing to do, to complain that you have no AC right now in your house because you chose to gut your kitchen and rebuild it into the kitchen of your dreams and in order to do that the contractors had to cut a wall out and thus eliminate the vent from basement to bedrooms- but know this. I lived without AC for 2 summers. I slept with bags of ice, cuddled wet cloths to sooth my body temperature. I took ice cold showers, employed fans galore and NEVER have I ever experienced the heat like last night.
Where I once complained that my unit was on the ground floor and thus got a plethora of centipedes, I knew not how incredibly hot it gets one floor up from the ground. I may have reconsidered my position.
At one point, the heat was so intense that it felt as if there was no air at all in the room. I think I may have awoke choking on the wet, unmoving, overly bothersome air.
Although we ended up in the guest bedroom which was a whole 1 degree cooler, I still woke up with wet hair... And by woke up, I mean actually got out of bed because I sure as shit didn’t sleep last night. Not one little wink. I rather cursed the heat, cursed it being Sunday night/ Monday morning, cursed the exhausted day that lay before me, cursed my snoring husband...
Anywho, I digress because the whole purpose of this letter is to tell you how much I dislike you and ranting about my house is hardly a way to garner sympathies.
But, to note, I woke up a living zombie- there was one point where I tried to rise from bed and in a moment of pure tiredness, I fell halfway off the bed and actually fell asleep in that totally abnormal position for 10 minutes.
It was my delight to find my bus, as usual, had ample seating for me so I could sit, get into my book and doze a bit on my way to the subway.
The subway too, as usual, had seats available and more than enough standing room to place myself in. I entered a particular car and on said car there were 3 empty seats. 2 were immediately taken by fellow subway boarders,1 remained empty so that you, fat bastard, had a place for half your ass and your briefcase.
Now, fat bastard, I have been aboard many a subway with people your size and I assure you that with some careful maneuvering, you can fit your whole ass on one seat- but moreover, did you briefcase need a seat to itself.
Did your poor briefcase have a bad night’s sleep too and arise to find itself in a total state of poopedness? Perhaps your briefcase had a foot injury?
Obvi none of that happened, dick, so why oh why, when I came and hovered over the seat hoping that like a good TTC rider you would acknowledge how rude you were being and remove the briefcase so I could sit down in the seat I obviously was aiming for- did you do nothing?
That is just not nice.
I know you saw me trying to get that seat and that you actively ignored me- well let me tell you a little something mister.... I would love to have rows of the TTC to myself too. I would love to spread out a disposable blanket, break out a prepackaged airplane pillow and fucking take a nap on my 10 minute ride. I would love to sprawl all my crap out, not put my precious gym bag on the dirty floor- I would love to put up my feet in the seat beside me every single time- what stops me is the same thing that stops me from saying what I think with no chance for digestions- it is called a social filter and its purpose is to make sure you do shit that is socially acceptable. Hogging 2 seats on the public transit system, I would say, is a felony no matter how big your ass is.
So hear this dude- I will forever (probs for a day or 2) be watching for you- waiting for the moment when you get on the subway after me and look longingly for somewhere to park your load. I will be sitting beside my precious lunch box who will, of course, have had a wild night and therefore in need of a solo seat. I hope you sweat standing.
Thank you,
Jane
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Karlstad Badlands
Hi folks,
So, today I am offish a homeowner! YAY.
This is a really really wonderful day for me and I am overjoyed at the fact that at 5pm today I will take a whole new route home and meet my hubs who will wait patiently all day long to walk into our front doors for the first time together.
I am freaking out people. There is just so much to do and so little time to get it done before I lose my cool of living out of boxes.
But the good news is that our weekend of new home ownership will be colored with visitors galore and a festival- like the whole neighborhood is welcoming us in with a big street party! And our cherries are ready too. Just saying.
Anyways- today has been the focal point of my whole week and even this past long weekend. We have now gotten a couch and wall mirror, we have arranged for our current kitchen table to be picked up, reworked and bleached, we are going to go see our new table in the next few days for our first visit (thank you to the amazing and ever talented Mr. Joel Barkin- joeldidthis.com), we have paint chips to ponder, a kitchen to build, a bathroom to rip down... It is amazing!
The good about it is that decorating and furniture is awesome. The bad of course, is that it is a bit stressful and the stress brings out rather dark sides of my hubs and I- take Tuesday night, for example....
Now, when I was in my teens, Ikea was my favorite place in the entire universe. I would literally go there as my haven- whenever I was stressed or needed to have some solo thinking time, I went to Ikea and slowly walked through the showroom, the warehouse the check out, the ice cream place... There was a calming element in the air and by the time I made my way out to the parking lot I was rejuvenated.
But like all nighters, binge drinking and crop tops, some things change when you hit your adult years.
What was once my paradise has become my own personal abyss of hell. A place that makes me shake with fear the minute I walk into those stupid big doors. The balls room that I once found so endearing makes me cringe thinking of the germs and potential fecal matter that litter the plastic fun balls and where this was once a place I turned off my cell phone and plugged into my ipod, now I pray for reception and arm myself with those stupid plastic measuring tapes that are not long enough to measure anything, a stubby pencil, a paper and summon the nerve to proceed.
I find the showroom overwhelming, the buying area more so and I know, with certainty, that whatever I buy, I will have to come back for some part- will it come broken or missing...hard to tell...
And, does it seem to anyone else, that the further you go into Ikea, the more the feeling of anger/tension builds?? By the time we got to chairs, my hubs and I were not speaking this time around. The Ikea curse....
Anyways, I think we will end up having out kitchen cabinetry done there so I only have a bagillion more visits to look forward too.
Anyways, just wanted to share my excitement with all of you- and to my wonderful friends/family who had messages waiting for me first thing this morning with notes of excitement and well-wishes, you are wonderful people. Really.
YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, today I am offish a homeowner! YAY.
This is a really really wonderful day for me and I am overjoyed at the fact that at 5pm today I will take a whole new route home and meet my hubs who will wait patiently all day long to walk into our front doors for the first time together.
I am freaking out people. There is just so much to do and so little time to get it done before I lose my cool of living out of boxes.
But the good news is that our weekend of new home ownership will be colored with visitors galore and a festival- like the whole neighborhood is welcoming us in with a big street party! And our cherries are ready too. Just saying.
Anyways- today has been the focal point of my whole week and even this past long weekend. We have now gotten a couch and wall mirror, we have arranged for our current kitchen table to be picked up, reworked and bleached, we are going to go see our new table in the next few days for our first visit (thank you to the amazing and ever talented Mr. Joel Barkin- joeldidthis.com), we have paint chips to ponder, a kitchen to build, a bathroom to rip down... It is amazing!
The good about it is that decorating and furniture is awesome. The bad of course, is that it is a bit stressful and the stress brings out rather dark sides of my hubs and I- take Tuesday night, for example....
Now, when I was in my teens, Ikea was my favorite place in the entire universe. I would literally go there as my haven- whenever I was stressed or needed to have some solo thinking time, I went to Ikea and slowly walked through the showroom, the warehouse the check out, the ice cream place... There was a calming element in the air and by the time I made my way out to the parking lot I was rejuvenated.
But like all nighters, binge drinking and crop tops, some things change when you hit your adult years.
What was once my paradise has become my own personal abyss of hell. A place that makes me shake with fear the minute I walk into those stupid big doors. The balls room that I once found so endearing makes me cringe thinking of the germs and potential fecal matter that litter the plastic fun balls and where this was once a place I turned off my cell phone and plugged into my ipod, now I pray for reception and arm myself with those stupid plastic measuring tapes that are not long enough to measure anything, a stubby pencil, a paper and summon the nerve to proceed.
I find the showroom overwhelming, the buying area more so and I know, with certainty, that whatever I buy, I will have to come back for some part- will it come broken or missing...hard to tell...
And, does it seem to anyone else, that the further you go into Ikea, the more the feeling of anger/tension builds?? By the time we got to chairs, my hubs and I were not speaking this time around. The Ikea curse....
Anyways, I think we will end up having out kitchen cabinetry done there so I only have a bagillion more visits to look forward too.
Anyways, just wanted to share my excitement with all of you- and to my wonderful friends/family who had messages waiting for me first thing this morning with notes of excitement and well-wishes, you are wonderful people. Really.
YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!
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