skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Saw my old stalker today. We made eye contact, I permitted a quick smile and scurried along. The woman freaks me out, I don't know what department she works for, just that she's in my building. I don't know how it started or ended but I'm glad she's out of my life and I only have to see her once in awhile.I visit the washroom every morning after I come in to work. She was always in there. At first she just stared at me when I was at the sinks washing my hands. Then it progressed to "Hi" and then small talk. I didn't mind at first, what's a couple of pleasantries now and then?It started to get freaky when she began cutting me off before I got to the door to leave and insist on a conversation. Soon she was bombarding me with questions about my private life, my family, clothes and such. Discomfort usually turns on my aloofness and I'd have to politely give some non-answers while purposely making my way to the door.I endured, I'm not easily scared away so I stuck it out even though there were daily horror stories to share with friends and co-workers. What finally made me throw the towel in, change washrooms and hide everytime she saw me from thereafter was that fateful morning she sent chills up my spine...So she was there as always, when I entered and did my thing. I noticed when I came out to wash my hands she was just leaning against the counter on the other side of the washroom watching me. O..K... We have wall to wall mirrors so I kept my eye on her while she had hers on me. She stared. And stared. Finally things got vocal:"Nice pants.""Thanks.""You got them at Jacob.""...Yes...""They were on sale for $34.99 and you have another pair just like it in brown."YOWZA! "....Uh........huh...nnn....."That's when I broke all laws of physics and got the hell out of there without using the door.She tried to track me down a few times after that episode but I made a point of ignoring her, staring past her if we met in public and turning away if I saw her trying to talk to me. There was no mercy, I had to do it cold turkey. She got the point after awhile and left me alone. I do wonder sometimes if she ever found a new victim and what became of him or her. If you ever see her, turn around and walk away. Fast. She is about 4'10" and looks like this. Just imagine the hair and glasses rims black. You could recognize her from a block away.
"Two ten-ride tickets to Union Station please.""Two?""Yes."*tap tap tap.. tap... several quick glances up from the buttons*
"Are you a student?""Me? No................. but thaank youu...."*smile**simper like a lunatic*Easy peasy.
Yesterday I was on the RT going to Scarborough to meet up with Mr. Stinky after work. Between Midland and Scarborough Town Centre, someone had flipped up sections of sod to make some kind of message and I wanted to see it. Approaching the spot I could make out "YES". There was another letter in front of it and I waited eagerly to see what it was. Then I saw it, it was an "E".What the hell? What does E YES mean? Is that a gang name? Is that some kind of gang message? What a stupid name. That's like, meaningless. E YES... I don't get it......... oh... wait........ *siiiiiigggghhh*Moral of the story? You don't have to be blonde to be a blonde.
I often wonder when people are angry or frustrated and they write it down on their websites, why they use symbols and stars to swear. The reader knows of their intentions, the author has made clear what his/her intentions are, it's not like I can be confused when I read "@sshole".So why the deliberate change? Are they scared of being caught swearing? Is it the childhood guilt of being told that it's a bad thing that they can't quite wash away? Is it the safe way to express anger and still retain a good image? I don't get it. Like I said, it's not hard to decipher "sh!t or f*ck so whether or not you replace the vowels with meaningless symbols you're still cursing. Right?I have no problems with swearing. It's an easy way to express myself without having to be intelligent. As long as I'm not doing it around kids I don't see why an occasional cuss is wrong. Bad words to me, are for emphasis. I'm not the kind of person who peppers every sentence with fucks, shits and goddamns. So if you're going to swear, go all the way. None of this halfway cowardly shit. Don't be a pussy, if you want to say fuck then you have the right to do so. If you can't bring yourself to do it then you should just stay away from these bad words completely. Try darn or shucks or my goodness.
Sharp. Pointy. Painful to watch.
No, not your audition for Canadian Idol. I'm talkin' about women in high heels and stilettos.
Heels give height, they are sexy and eye-catching. They add to the mystique of the feminine form while filling men with dirty and sweaty fantasies. Stilettos are ultra-femme sexy with an edge: "I can balance on 3 inch points and I've got long, shapely, smokin' legs. Don't mess with me, I can circumcise you with my physics-defying toes." If Xena were around today she'd be busting chops with her leather bustier and skirt and knee high stilettos while seducing the handsome hero; she'd totally be every guy's wet dream. Xena: Sexy Warrior Princess. She'll kick ass and get some too.. Hoooahh!
It's very bad form when I check out a heel-wearing chica and she doesn't flow. Wearing high heels is a skill, balancing on an itty bitty piece of plastic is no easy feat. Not only must you master balance, you must also acquire coordination and walking skills. Pivoting on a dime? No problem. I cringe when I see wobbly ankles, wobbly like they might just snap off at any moment. Precariously perched (alliteration time!), these women look like newborn foals who don't know how to work their legs or 7 year olds trying on mommy's shoes for the first time. Ladies, it's not sexy when you can't walk properly. I don't see femme fatale when I watch you walk like that, I see inverted bobble heads.You need to practice how to walk in heels at home, away from the critical public eye. If you can't achieve nirvana in heeldom, don't wear them. Try something a little shorter, it'll be more stable. Too many women out there are ankle biters,
too many limping around pathetically and the cardinal taboo: bandaids.EEeeoouuuuww! I don't want to see those! First of all, if you've got on bandaids your shoes don't fit properly. Second, maybe you should be wearing something else while your blisters and scabs heal over. Bandaids don't scream sex, more like pain and pus-y, gaping wound. Sick. You can't hide them either, you might as well have on neon Scooby Doo bandaids on. It's all the same, people. will. notice. And don't think that they can be counted as accessories either. Unless you're a rapper...Embrace your womanhood, express yourselves and love what you were given. That also means your feet, ankles, legs, hips and back. Your feet are the foundation on which you stand, screw with them and you'll be sorry.
Let's beat this very dead horse until it turns into a mushy puddle of V8. Why, in this day and age are you still not washing your hands after using the toilet? You think nobody notices, but I'm very astute. I see dry sinks, I notice how little time passes between the flush and your exit from the washroom and I can hear how long the water is turned on and the lack of noise from the soap pump. I've also got spies working with me, we're a tight network and we keep a running list of candidates for grossness. Male or female, you will be seen so beware.Pumping the soap but not rubbing is not proper hand washing, you're just washing a glob of goo off your palm. It doesn't matter how many times you pump, if you don't rub it doesn't work. I'm not oblivious to your pretensions of soap pumping either while we're standing next to each other and you've got the water on. I may not be watching you but my peripheral vision still works and since I don't hear the pump being used.... And while we're at it, if you're going through all the motions why don't you just do it?!? Lastly, turning on the taps and flicking your hand through the water once or twice doesn't do anything other than moistening your hands.So maybe you think a simple rinse is enough. Fine. Just do it at home where you can recycle your own germs but in a very public place where the washroom is frequently used, even if you don't pee on your hands there are germs everywhere. Think about the door handle to go into the washroom, the stall door and lock. You have to touch everything twice, once before and once after. You have to touch the taps twice as well. Now think of the daily traffic....
I'm OCD enough as it is already what with the constant hand-washing, paper towel to open washroom doors, holding my breath and running away when people sneeze or cough, econo-sized jug of hand sanitizer with pump action on my desk and another purse sized sanitizer bottle at the ready. I can't even shake someone's hand or use another computer terminal without heading immediately to the nearest sink to wash my hands afterwards. I don't need your help to make me a total hypochondriac, thank you very much. I can do that all on my own.
And for God's sakes, I really don't want to see you come out of your stall (especially after a poopy or during those special 5-7 days of the month), walk out to the sinks and start picking your teeth or fixing your lipstick or rubbing your eyes or anything to do with your orifices. That's just sick.
It's dark outside again when I wake up . It's so haaarrdd...
I like doing this much better when it's dark out..
On Saturday we picked up the new island we had wanted since the house was purchased. It took over a year before we even had the means to make this big purchase and now it's just become a part of our overall debt.
It came in a few pieces: countertop, cabinets, bar top and supports. We were delighted that it was finally coming home with us, not too thrilled when we lego-ed it together and found that none of the pieces "fit". Oh sure, we could push them up against each other but the pieces didn't quite line up, weren't flush or level and the worksmanship was lousy at best. Several things were cracked or had obviously been put through some trauma... luckily they were to be hidden so you could argue that it didn't matter that they were damaged. But really, I'm paying with both my kidneys here. I should be expecting nothing but perfection.
What was really frustrating was that we didn't get any screws with our island. We were told "everything" was there but I guess screws aren't part of "everything". Since we're not carpenters or cabinet makers, how besides eyeballing and guessing, would we know exactly what to use to put this thing together? You want to make sure the pieces are secure but you don't want screws coming up out of the countertop either. Luckily we could refer to our existing counter and make some good guesses. We only had to visit Home Depot twice and it took all of Sunday, with a lot of tense, breath-stopping moments but it finally got done. Mr. Stinky even had enough confidence to rectify the crooked drawers and cabinet door the so-called professionals had so badly installed. If you opened the middle drawer it would actually catch the top drawer and pull that out too. Without using a level, you could clearly see how slanted it was.
Anyway, aside from the stress and frustration we managed quite well and here are the results. We promptly ran out and bought some bar chairs with Mr. Stinky being the eager shopper for once, and had a celebratory dinner on our new island. Come over to check it out, just don't put full body weight on it, the bar top is only held up with brackets. But still. It's sweet.
