My cats woke me up at 7.30am. At this point they should just be thankful that I didn't kill them both. Since I couldn't get back to sleep I watched some Star Trek (I finally picked up season 2 of TOS) and talked to a friend of mine for a bit. Now, being the frightfully clever person I am, I decided that it would be a good idea to spend all day making three batches of perogies. Alone.
Why? Why do I do these things to myself? *sigh*
So for the last five hours I've been rolling out dough, developing a wicked hand cramp from using the rolling pin, boiling perogies (which makes the kitchen even hotter) and washing dishes. And the best part of the story, I have to go to work tonight so I'm not even going to get to enjoy them until way later.
I'm pretty sure there is something wrong with me.
*In the event that you've never had or heard of perogies, you are missing out on one of life's greatest treasures. I will gladly give you the recipe so you can free yourself from your sad, pathetic, perogy-less life.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Not Want!
It's 7.30 in the morning. Wait. Let me repeat that. 7.30 IN THE MORNING! And I'm at work, surrounded by dancers and their parents and one woman whom I've heard ask god to bless no less than six people since she walked through the door. (Let's hope God is as all loving and forgiving as she seems to think he is, because if she were asking me for that much it'd be wearing pretty fucking thin by now.) I have a feeling today is not going to be a good day. (To be fair, not many days that start at 6.20 am are good days.)
90% of the people I can see at the moment look like they just dropped out of a stripper competition. There is so much hairspray in the air, if anyone tries to light a cigarette, we're all going up in the biggest fireball since the Hindenburg. And most of these kids can't be older that ten. It's actually kind of sad. (Even more sad are the mothers who look that way. In attendance are at least five graduates of the Tammy Fay School of Aesthetics.)
In all honesty it's not nearly so bad as beauty competitions, but you can see it on so many of the parents faces. "You're living my dream, so don't you dare fuck it up." Like every competition like this though, it's all big smiles and look-how-perfect-we-are people. The kind that if you watch and listen long enough, you'll hear the most horrible things said through a smile. It's something I remember painfully well from when I was their age. As much as I hate to admit it, I used to be one of those kids. (Though I was never really one of them, I never did buy in to the whole "girly thing" and they knew it as well as I did.)
So it should be eight fun filled hours of estrogen, nerves, insanity, pressure, judgement and bad music. If you have any mercy you'll come and put me out of my misery. Or at least come and keep me company.
*Update*
In less than an hour I've pointed to the clearly marked admissions desk about three hundred times, dealt with one stolen purse, a kitchen crew that doesn't understand that plugging every coffee maker in to one outlet blows the breaker and complains from people who live in the neighbourhood about people parking in front of their houses. Oh yeah, this is great.
90% of the people I can see at the moment look like they just dropped out of a stripper competition. There is so much hairspray in the air, if anyone tries to light a cigarette, we're all going up in the biggest fireball since the Hindenburg. And most of these kids can't be older that ten. It's actually kind of sad. (Even more sad are the mothers who look that way. In attendance are at least five graduates of the Tammy Fay School of Aesthetics.)
In all honesty it's not nearly so bad as beauty competitions, but you can see it on so many of the parents faces. "You're living my dream, so don't you dare fuck it up." Like every competition like this though, it's all big smiles and look-how-perfect-we-are people. The kind that if you watch and listen long enough, you'll hear the most horrible things said through a smile. It's something I remember painfully well from when I was their age. As much as I hate to admit it, I used to be one of those kids. (Though I was never really one of them, I never did buy in to the whole "girly thing" and they knew it as well as I did.)
So it should be eight fun filled hours of estrogen, nerves, insanity, pressure, judgement and bad music. If you have any mercy you'll come and put me out of my misery. Or at least come and keep me company.
*Update*
In less than an hour I've pointed to the clearly marked admissions desk about three hundred times, dealt with one stolen purse, a kitchen crew that doesn't understand that plugging every coffee maker in to one outlet blows the breaker and complains from people who live in the neighbourhood about people parking in front of their houses. Oh yeah, this is great.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Happy Birthday Steve-o
Happy birthday Steve! Hope it's a really super awesome one.
I'm gonna have to take you out for food or something.
And because I couldn't decide on which picture to use... here's the horrible Baby Huey pic with your horrible gnarley hand. hahahaha
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
If A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words...
This post is worth at least 15000. I think that beats even my angriest rants. (Also, I totally stole this from Robin...)
Here’s how it works:
1. Go to www.photobucket.com
2. Type in your answer to the question in the “search” box
3. Insert the picture into your Blog
1.) What is your Relationship Status?
2) What is your current mood?
3.) Who is your Favorite Band / Artist?
4.) What is your Favorite Movie?
5.) What kind of pet do you have?
6.) Where do you live?
7.) Where do you work?
8.) What do you look like?
9.) What do you drive?
10)What did you do last night?
11.) What is your Favorite TV Show?
12.) Describe yourself:
13)What are you doing tomorrow?
14.) What is your Name?
15.) What’s your Favorite Candy?
PS - #6 is my favourite just because that made me laugh really, really hard.
Here’s how it works:
1. Go to www.photobucket.com
2. Type in your answer to the question in the “search” box
3. Insert the picture into your Blog
1.) What is your Relationship Status?
2) What is your current mood?
3.) Who is your Favorite Band / Artist?
4.) What is your Favorite Movie?
5.) What kind of pet do you have?
6.) Where do you live?
7.) Where do you work?
8.) What do you look like?
9.) What do you drive?
10)What did you do last night?
11.) What is your Favorite TV Show?
12.) Describe yourself:
13)What are you doing tomorrow?
14.) What is your Name?
15.) What’s your Favorite Candy?
PS - #6 is my favourite just because that made me laugh really, really hard.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Birthday Nanny and Chico
I'd just like to take this opportunity to say Happy birthday to my Grandmother. I hope it was super awesome and I love you.
Also, The 22nd would have been Chico Marx's birthday. Happy Birthday, Chico. May you win all your afterlife bets.
Also, The 22nd would have been Chico Marx's birthday. Happy Birthday, Chico. May you win all your afterlife bets.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Dear Child,
You are risking remaining a child forever. You should know this because my ability to deal with your level of bullshit never really developed.
Though I suspect you aren't very old, I get the distinct impression that you look a lot younger than you are. I'm going to guess that your family has money, which means little to me and even less to others, trust me. I also suspect that people have told you repeatedly that you're cute and you think that this somehow makes you immune to malice. You would be wrong on that point. Very, very wrong.
You're obnoxious and rude, which may have slipped by your parents notice, but has not escaped mine. So let me explain to you, sweetheart, out in the real world people don't appreciate your kind and there are countless people who will take great joy in crushing you.
So in order to make our next encounter more pleasant and to save you a lot of trouble later on in life, let me impart a few words of wisdom to you. And I am going to suggest very strongly that you read each and every one and make them your mantra from now until the end of time.
1) Please and thank-you. Learn to use them. Over use them. With everyone. All the fucking time. It doesn't matter how small a favour or request, they are expected and notice is taken when they are absent. Not using them makes you sound like a demanding, ungrateful little shit.
2) Thinking things and saying them out-loud don't necessarily go hand in hand. There is a reason people just don't say certain things. The biggest reason being that the wrong thing said at the wrong time to the wrong person will land you in a special place in hell made just for you. You want to be in show biz, kid, you had better learn this one fast. Because anyone and everyone in show biz has had to learn the ass-kissing game. So just for the record, asking about openings in a company and remarking about a friend who works there and gets paid to "sit on his ass and play tetris" in the same breath is probably a monumentally bad idea.
3) Stop. Fucking. Pacing. Sit the fuck down and be quiet. It's really not that hard and for someone who is at least in their teens you should have been able to work that one out already. You're driving everyone insane. The same goes for your humming. Just fucking stop. I shouldn't even have to explain this one. Do you see any of the adults doing that? Do you want to guess why that is?
4) It's called an internal monologue for a reason. Because it's meant to be internal. As in "stays in your head". I don't need to know that the candy that you're eating is grape and I certainly don't need to know that you think grape is gross. Just spit it out and move on. That kind of bullshit is something I would expect from a four year old and even then it would be irritating. What it tells everyone that can hear you is that you're an attention whore. And trust me here, NO ONE LIKES AN ATTENTION WHORE. (And just a PS on spitting out candy or anything else for that matter - go to the washroom and do that you fucking moron. I need to see and hear you spitting out things even less than I need to hear you talk about eating them in the first place. What the hell is wrong with you!?)
5) Almost everyone who goes in to acting will not make it. You should come to terms with that now. Because I have an exceptional memory for faces and it would make my day if I ever got you as a waitress.
Okay, sweet cheeks, got all that? Are we clear now? I certainly hope so. I really do hate having to repeat myself.
Oh and just one final thing. If your parents are the kind of people your behaviour would seem to indicate, could you be a dear and keep them the fuck away from me?
Thanks!
-Gwenhwyfar
Though I suspect you aren't very old, I get the distinct impression that you look a lot younger than you are. I'm going to guess that your family has money, which means little to me and even less to others, trust me. I also suspect that people have told you repeatedly that you're cute and you think that this somehow makes you immune to malice. You would be wrong on that point. Very, very wrong.
You're obnoxious and rude, which may have slipped by your parents notice, but has not escaped mine. So let me explain to you, sweetheart, out in the real world people don't appreciate your kind and there are countless people who will take great joy in crushing you.
So in order to make our next encounter more pleasant and to save you a lot of trouble later on in life, let me impart a few words of wisdom to you. And I am going to suggest very strongly that you read each and every one and make them your mantra from now until the end of time.
1) Please and thank-you. Learn to use them. Over use them. With everyone. All the fucking time. It doesn't matter how small a favour or request, they are expected and notice is taken when they are absent. Not using them makes you sound like a demanding, ungrateful little shit.
2) Thinking things and saying them out-loud don't necessarily go hand in hand. There is a reason people just don't say certain things. The biggest reason being that the wrong thing said at the wrong time to the wrong person will land you in a special place in hell made just for you. You want to be in show biz, kid, you had better learn this one fast. Because anyone and everyone in show biz has had to learn the ass-kissing game. So just for the record, asking about openings in a company and remarking about a friend who works there and gets paid to "sit on his ass and play tetris" in the same breath is probably a monumentally bad idea.
3) Stop. Fucking. Pacing. Sit the fuck down and be quiet. It's really not that hard and for someone who is at least in their teens you should have been able to work that one out already. You're driving everyone insane. The same goes for your humming. Just fucking stop. I shouldn't even have to explain this one. Do you see any of the adults doing that? Do you want to guess why that is?
4) It's called an internal monologue for a reason. Because it's meant to be internal. As in "stays in your head". I don't need to know that the candy that you're eating is grape and I certainly don't need to know that you think grape is gross. Just spit it out and move on. That kind of bullshit is something I would expect from a four year old and even then it would be irritating. What it tells everyone that can hear you is that you're an attention whore. And trust me here, NO ONE LIKES AN ATTENTION WHORE. (And just a PS on spitting out candy or anything else for that matter - go to the washroom and do that you fucking moron. I need to see and hear you spitting out things even less than I need to hear you talk about eating them in the first place. What the hell is wrong with you!?)
5) Almost everyone who goes in to acting will not make it. You should come to terms with that now. Because I have an exceptional memory for faces and it would make my day if I ever got you as a waitress.
Okay, sweet cheeks, got all that? Are we clear now? I certainly hope so. I really do hate having to repeat myself.
Oh and just one final thing. If your parents are the kind of people your behaviour would seem to indicate, could you be a dear and keep them the fuck away from me?
Thanks!
-Gwenhwyfar
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Further Proof God Hates Me: Part 2
This is the longest I've been awake in two days. I'm not just kind of sick. I'm pretty sure I'm dying.
Some of you reading this are my friends. If you really love me, you'd put me out of my misery.
I'm going back to bed.
Some of you reading this are my friends. If you really love me, you'd put me out of my misery.
I'm going back to bed.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Further Proof God Hates Me
I'm getting sick. I can feel it in every fiber of my being. Germs invading, system failing, mucus glands oozing. Go figure, I just started a new job, I have three orders for baking and I'm in the midst of an insomnia attack. God hates me.
I woke up at 7am yesterday to find that my lungs were burning and my cough was getting worse. Today was met with a repeat of that accompanied by a scratchy throat and achy... well... everything. And as an added bonus I'm really, really, really, fucking tired. All of these things have added up to one cranky Gwen which was compounded by some asshole wearing too much perfume and giving me a splitting headache.
Please, for the love of Fabs, would someone just kill me now and put me out of my misery? Or at least bring me medicine and an extra pillow? Maybe some soup? And a blanket? And if you're on your way anyway, I could really use a tissue. Thanks.
I woke up at 7am yesterday to find that my lungs were burning and my cough was getting worse. Today was met with a repeat of that accompanied by a scratchy throat and achy... well... everything. And as an added bonus I'm really, really, really, fucking tired. All of these things have added up to one cranky Gwen which was compounded by some asshole wearing too much perfume and giving me a splitting headache.
Please, for the love of Fabs, would someone just kill me now and put me out of my misery? Or at least bring me medicine and an extra pillow? Maybe some soup? And a blanket? And if you're on your way anyway, I could really use a tissue. Thanks.
iWhat?
I was taking a look at iTunes earlier and I went in to my Top 25 Most PLayed songs. Looking over the list I can't help but think that it's not an accurate representation of what I've been listening to lately. Especially since the #1 song on the list is one I haven't listened to since last year.
So, does anyone know how I can start the count over to get a better idea of what I've been listening to? I mean, I know what I've been listening to, it's just that I'm curious to see if I've been subconsciously favouring anything.
So, does anyone know how I can start the count over to get a better idea of what I've been listening to? I mean, I know what I've been listening to, it's just that I'm curious to see if I've been subconsciously favouring anything.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Happy Birthday Fabs!
Today is Mr. Fab's birthday! And since I loves him so very, very much and since he's so very far away, this video will sadly have to take the place of any fun I could have come up with.
Hope it's a really, really, really super awesome birthday of awesomeness, Fabilicious!
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Another FYI
(To be fair, the last one I posted was almost a week ago. I've just been to busy and/or lazy to post anything since then.)
PMS + Pain + Sleepless nigts + More pain = Incredibly bitchy Gwen.
It's fairly simple, right? That being said, I am trying really hard to be as civil as I can manage and my mood hasn't completely exploded yet. But I have my limits. So let me warn you now and get it out of the way. If you push me right now, I will reach down your throat and rip out your heart.
Clear?
Good.
PMS + Pain + Sleepless nigts + More pain = Incredibly bitchy Gwen.
It's fairly simple, right? That being said, I am trying really hard to be as civil as I can manage and my mood hasn't completely exploded yet. But I have my limits. So let me warn you now and get it out of the way. If you push me right now, I will reach down your throat and rip out your heart.
Clear?
Good.
Monday, March 03, 2008
FYI
At the end of the night, when the theatre is closing down, please leave.
You want to stand and talk with your friends? Great. Do it outside. Meet at the bar down the street. Go to someone's house. Just get the fuck out. It's 11pm and some of us have been at work all fucking day and we'd like to go home.
I shouldn't have to herd you toward the door, especially after standing there for ten minutes with my coat on. What the fuck did you think I was getting at when I put it on? It certainly wasn't because I was cold.
Oh and by the way, if I herd you toward the door at the bottom of the stairs I want you to keep moving. Don't stop and chat some more on the stairs or at the top of the stairs. I want you out. All the way out. This should be this difficult. Just fuck off already.
You want to stand and talk with your friends? Great. Do it outside. Meet at the bar down the street. Go to someone's house. Just get the fuck out. It's 11pm and some of us have been at work all fucking day and we'd like to go home.
I shouldn't have to herd you toward the door, especially after standing there for ten minutes with my coat on. What the fuck did you think I was getting at when I put it on? It certainly wasn't because I was cold.
Oh and by the way, if I herd you toward the door at the bottom of the stairs I want you to keep moving. Don't stop and chat some more on the stairs or at the top of the stairs. I want you out. All the way out. This should be this difficult. Just fuck off already.
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