That About Sums It Up

I could tell you that I spent the morning answering stupid question, but this kind of sums up everything perfectly. This woman called to ask where we're located. I gave her the address and the intersection. She still wasn't sure.
"Do you know where (Auto Parts Store) is?"
"Yes."
"Well we're right behind them. So if you're headed north towards them you just need to turn left on 4th Ave."
"But... but... I'm headed south! What do I do if I'm going south!?"
"..." Oh yeah, she's serious. "You turn right on 4th."
And there's still another day of this shit.
*sigh*

A Girl Can Dream, Can't She?

I have an alarm program on my computer that I use when I have to get up earlier then I would like. I had to be up at 8am to get ready for work, so I set it last night. When the alarm goes off it turns on my computer and starts up iTunes. It's really a glorified clock radio alarm, but I like it a lot better then the mind meltingly awful sound my alarm clock makes.
I have to go to work because the dancers are still there. I don't want to go. They're a bunch of harpy shrews and they make me wish I was deaf and blind. So what tune did I wake up to this morning? (I almost always have iTunes on shuffle.) Johnny Cash singing "The Man Comes Around".
I could help but think "if only". That would make for a really awesome day. Just to watch the Four Horsemen ride through a building full of these freaks. Somehow, I think they'd probably like them as much as I do. I'd even get them some coffee. Maybe a muffin or something. I mean, really, I don't imagine they have much time to stop and snack and everyone needs to eat. You can't go around Apocolypsing it up on an empty stomach. You'll just end up making yourself ill.
I suspect that it will be these thoughts that will get me through today. I feel all warm and squishy inside.

S.O.S.

Someone, please, I'm surrounded by dancers... send help. Send help now. I'm begging you.

Being A Girl Is A Fucking Rip Off

$104.50
Let me repeat that for you.
$104.50
That's exactly how much I just spent on one new bra. Not many new bras, but ONE.
"Why?" I can hear you asking. Because Being a girl is a fucking rip off. And yes, I know I could go buy a cheaper one but there are problems with that idea too. The main one being the places that sell cheaper bras don't carry my size. (That's right, my boobs are that big. Yay me.) Then there's the fact that when buying a bra, you get what you pay for. So you pay less, you get a shitty bra. I have a bad back (like I said, big boobs) and a shitty bra does not help that problem.
So enjoy them while you can, boys, because if this kind of shit keeps up I'm going to have to chop them off.

Big Pimpin'

In case you'd forgotten or *gasp* hadn't heard, tomorrow is Mr. Fab's Big Honkin' Duet show II. Two solid hours of bloggers making complete asses of themselves, singing in the ancient tradition of Karaoke. It could be the best thing you've ever heard, although it could also be a thing of world ending, soul crushing, brain exploding horror. Either way, you really ought to be there.

Well, I'm all pimped out. It's true what they say "Pimpin' ain't easy".

I'd Sigh If It Didn't Hurt To Do So

After finally getting over that stupid flu/cold thing I had the last two weeks, I am now getting sick AGAIN! Last night at work I noticed my throat was starting to get a bit sore. When we finished watching a movie at my bother's place it was considerably worse. Then this morning I woke up to find I'm having trouble swallowing. It just keeps getting better and better.
The best part of it all, I actually have a whole three day weekend. I was planning on chilling out, and maybe getting a few things off my "to do" list. But no, I can't have a lovely germ free weekend. I get to go find some medication and hope that I feel better by Tuesday.

Dear Oil Companies,

Let me just start by saying fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
Now that we've got that out of the way, fuck you. Fuck you right up the ass with something sand-papery, you cock-gobbling cum dumpsters. I can't even come up with something bad enough to compare my hatred for you to that would put it in to perspective. No name I can think up, no expletive I could use, no words yet discovered would accurately describe my feelings for you and your "stealing toys from orphans" level of douche baggery. At this point I think even Hitler would be exclaiming "Mein Gott!"
You can rot in the deepest, darkest pit of hell for all of eternity. You and your fuck buddy George "Dubya".
So in closing let me just say fuck you, you planet killing, war starting, money grubbing, price gouging, soul sucking, cunts.

Sincerely,

-Gwenhwyfar.

So Much For A Lazy Sunday

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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!

Best Early 90s Reference Of The Week

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.

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.

I've Added A New Link

You can now find Garfield minus Garfield in the links.
Why?
Because it's fucking hilarious, that's why. In fact, go read it now.

Thirteen Things That Make Me A Nerd

I totally stole this from Janna.

1. I flatly refuse to watch Babylon 5 season 5 because it was horribly tacked on and I had my closure with the end of season 4.

2. I have seen every episode of Star Trek TNG in broadcast order.

3. I can name more than ten alien races from Star Trek off the top of my head.

4. I own more than two dozen Marvel trading cards.

5. I can pick out my favourite voice actors in any of the things they work on.

6. I have favourite voice actors.

7. I love TNG but I always wish that McCoy was the doctor because I fucking hate Crusher.

8. I make a habit of writing open letters to directors and musicians on my blog, not because I think they'll read them, but because it makes me feel better.

9. Watching the X-men movies, I am mentally cataloguing all of the errors in the story lines and characters.

10. I have to watch any make-up heavy movie at least twice because the first time I watch I don't really notice anything but the make-up.

11. If they turn a book in to a movie I absolutely must watch the movie before I read the book.

12. I still have my favourite stuffed animal and blanket from when I was little and I am as protective of them now as I was then.

13. I am willing to admit all of these things.

Hostess With The Leastest

I'm a terrible hostess. I know I am. It's not because I hate having people over or that I don't know anything about being a good hostess. It's just that I'm a lazy hostess which is something I've just learned to accept about myself.
My mother will spend hours scrubbing every nook and cranny of the house when she knows people are coming over. Even places guests wouldn't possibly see, like under the sink in the bathroom connected to her room. No guest is going to go in there, why scrub? She dusts the tops of the fan blades in the kitchen even when the fan is almost always on and no one is going to be inspecting the fucking fan. (I guess the moral of the story is, she's insane.) And my dad is just as bad. I can remember clearly being yelled at to clean my room because company was coming over. It seemed ridiculous to me as my bedroom door was always closed and no one without a death wish was going to come parading through to inspect how tidy my closet was. I guess I'm just not that worried about what people think about how I keep my house.
I'm also really bad for getting things for people. I don't know what it is. If I'm standing in the kitchen with someone and they ask if they can have a drink, I almost always point out that they are well aware of the location of both the glasses and the drinks. Help yourself. I think I've finally got most of my friends trained to just go get whatever it is that they want. That being said, I'm not impossibly bad about everything. If I make tea or coffee and I got to fill my cup, I always fill everyone else's cups first. If I'm getting something for myself I make a point of offering some to everyone.
I think most of my friends know by now that when they come over they really don't need to knock and wait for me to answer. If I'm at home and awake chances are terrifically good that the door is open. Just come in. All I ask is that you don't let the cats out.
So if you come over, and I'm always happy to have people over, the door is open, food and drink are in the fridge and pantry, dishes are in the cupboard and the bathroom is next to the kitchen. I'd say I'm sorry about the mess, but really I'm not.

Question

If you're making someone happy because their happiness makes you happy, is that selfish?

Stupid Ice

I slipped and fell yesterday. I'd love to tell you it was an entirely graceful move on my part, but that would be a lie. I hit a patch of ice on my steps, luckily it was the bottom step and I was going down so I didn't crack my head wide open and I fell into the snow. Unfortunately I fell hard enough to jar my arms and back. So at the moment everything from the tips of my fingers to my elbows and my entire torso are completely stiff and sore.
Stupid winter.

From Me To You 24

- If you have been ignoring you neighbours for months and treating them like shit when you do interact with them, it's best not to assume that you can still come and borrow their shit. Especially if you just take it without asking. That's called stealing and if I catch you again I'll break your face. The same applies to your girlfriend.

- If your popularity is based on your looks alone, it's probably a bad idea to threaten anyone who is unpopular because of their looks with violence. A broken nose will affect you more than them. Trust me on this one.

- The only really good advice my mother ever gave me: Never throw the first punch but always throw the last.

- I shouldn't actually have to say this but COVER YOU FUCKING MOUTH YOU COUGH! Jesus Christ on crutches! I really don't need your nasty germs sprayed all over me and every surface within 20 feet of you.

Crazy Eights

8 Things I’m Passionate About
1. Film
2. Writing
3. My art
4. The people who take the time to read this non-sense
5. Reading
6. My cats
7. My family
8. My personal integrity

8 Things I Want to Do Before I Die

1. Travel around Europe
2. Find a job that doesn't make me crazy
3. Find a way to make my anger in to a positive thing
4. Spend at least 10% of my life NOT being broke and worrying about money
5. Actually meet all of the bloggers I love (and sodomize them)
6. Win the lotto
7. Meet everyone on my list of people to meet before I die
8. Find someone who doesn't drive me crazy, treat me like shit or lets me down at every given opportunity

8 Things I Say Often

1. Fuck
2. Shit
3. Hell
4. Ass
5. Balls
6. Damnit
7. Fine, then I'll just have to kill you
8. I fucking hate that

8 Books I’ve Read Recently
1. Thank-you, Jeeves
2. Jeeves and the feudal spirit
3. The Porcelain God: The social history of the toilet
4. Dexter in the Dark
5. The walking dead 1-5
6. What ho, Jeeves (I was on a P.G. Wodehouse kick, fuck off.)
7. From Russia with love
8. Goldfinger


8 Songs I Could Listen to Over and Over

1. Death Valley Queen - Flogging Molly
2. Factory Girls - Flogging Molly
3. Pretty Voice - Cloud Cult
4. Car Crash - Cloud Cult
5. Me and Bobby McGee - Janis Joplin
6. Here it goes again - Ok Go
7. Them there eyes - Billie Holiday
8. Feeling Good - Nina Simone

8 Things That Attract Me to My Best Friends

1. Twisted sense of humor
2. Being able to understand at least half of the stupid jokes and obscure references I make
3. Laughing at my stupid jokes and obscure references
4. Intelligence
5. Honesty
6. Passion for what they believe in, even if I don't completely agree
7. Nice ass
8. Not getting pissed off when I call bullshit and being able to call it back.

8 People I Think Should Do Crazy 8’s

1. Robin
2. Adam
3. Jason
4. Blue
5. Bron
6. Janna
7. Turnbaby
8. Chelle

Don Cherry, I Love You

I'm serious, completely serious. I love this man so much. And this coat is a thing of dreams. Wonderful technicolor dreams. I want to be buried in this coat. If I ever win the lotto it's the first thing I'm going to buy.

I Finally Found it!

A "holiday" I hate more than Christmas. I hate this stupid fucking bullshit day. More than you will ever know.

Just Getting Paid To Write Would Be Good

I have a suspicion that anyone who has a blog that they actually update regularly secretly dreams of being a writer. I know I would love to get paid for writing. Hell, I do enough of it. But then it was Hunter S. Thompson who said "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." So maybe it's a "grass is always greener" kind of thing.
Anyway, on to the meme (which I'm stealing from Fabs.)

10 Signs A Book Was Written By Me

1. Most of the cover is obscured by the "Explicit Content" warning sticker.

2. After about the first ten pages you realize it really is just one long rant about something stupid.

3. Total occurrences of the word Fuck (or some variant): 35,478

4. Understanding everything in it exposes you for the nerd you are.

5. There is an entire chapter devoted to bending bloggers over a child sized coffin and fisting them.

6. There are chapters devoted to Kevin Spacey, Alan Rickman and the Wonder Twins.

7. Jerry Falwell's corpse reanimates itself in order to protest its release.

8. Page 115 is just a grocery list that got suck in there by mistake.

9. The audio book is read by John de Lancie but he is credited as Q.

10. When you take every fifth word from every third page and get instructions for building a working time machine.

FYI

If the nature of my complaint about you is the way you speak to me, giving me the silent treatment isn't hurting my feelings. I've been wishing that you'd shut the fuck up for months.

Dear Marilyn,

Or is it Mr. Manson? Does it matter any more really? Can we talk for a minute? Because there is something on my mind and it's your latest album. I picked it up today because, despite what's been said about the glory days of shock rock, I still like your stuff a lot (though I'd be lying if I said that Mechanical Animals was my all time favourite album).
Antichrist Superstar was great, it came out at the right time for me and for all it says about me, it meant a lot to me at the time. It was what I needed to vent some of my personal rage (now I have a blog to help me with that). Listening to the older albums and everything that followed I was right there with you. Right up to Golden Age (which I really do love, by the way). It was stagey and over the top and shlocky, but I loved it. In fact that's part of the reason why I loved it.
But this new one, Eat Me Drink Me, I... I just don't know what to say. I listened to the first track a little confused. I thought maybe it was because I'd been listening to a lot of Rammstein in the last week and I was having trouble switching gears. So I listened to the second, more confusion. After the fourth I shut it off. I can't remember the last time I listened to a CD put out by an artist well established in my collection for the first time and shut it off less than half way through. But I actually decided I must be in a weird mood or something. I'd pick it up later and try again. It can't be that bad.
It's later now and I'm listening again. I know it's not my mood. I know it's not a mental gear still stuck in german industrial. It's this CD.
It is that bad.
And worse than that, it's laughably bad. The more I listen the more I want to turn it off. I think it's actually breaking my soul. It's just so fucking... emo.
Christ, man, you went from being the religious-right's number one enemy, the fucking Antichrist Superstar to being a sad sack, ballady, wannabe spooky, emo of the fucking week. I mean this shit is so fucking lame I didn't even really hear about it until very recently because no one was protesting it. The rabid, suit wearing, bible thumping Jesus freaks weren't offended enough to protest which means the media didn't report it, which means no free advertising. And as much as I'm sure they would hate to admit anything of the kind, they have been the biggest help to your career over the years.
You know this as well as I do. I've watched you for years. You're a salesman and a damned good one. You've sold yourself, your image and you've used every trick in the book to make sure than everyone knows your name and knows your music. It was genius. You deliberately pushed people in to a frenzy because you know how much free advertising and controversy are worth in the long run. I think that you should be applauded for the skill with which you stayed on top of it all.
But this garbage isn't even worth one fucking protest sign.
Every song is a garbled mess. The music itself sounds like you've hired some drug addled homeless crazies with no knowledge of musical structure or ability to play, well, anything and let them have at it. A good 75% of the vocals sound like they're being slurred by a hopeless drunk who's just lost his best friend, his dog, his job and anything else he ever valued. It's the same aggravating monotone talk-moan-whine-not-quite-singing bullshit on every goddamned fucking track. The lyrics are such emo whiney shit that I can picture a fourteen year old with that cockbag haircut sitting in a dark room trying desperately to write something deep and dark and spooky. Even the fucking CD insert is annoying. Every picture is of you, looking sad and whiney.
I'd blame this all on drugs or alcohol, but I know that you've been going hard on those since day one. So what? Did you write this album sober?
I would happily welcome back that questionable Glam Rock faze, complete with boobs and all, rather than have to listen to this shit. Listening to it I kept waiting for the music to stop, for you to laugh and apologize because it was a joke. A really bad joke. But you didn't, because it's not.
It's just sad, shitty, garbage.

Sorry for being so harsh, man. Sometimes the truth hurts, but you have to hear it. And me, I'm no good at sugarcoating.

-Gwen

I Shouldn't Be Left Alone

I don't know what it is lately, but in the last week it seems like whenever I'm around people I'm in a pretty good mood. This afternoon I made it through an entire car ride with my mother without feeling the urge to strangle the life out of her. Work has been good. Even the most trying person I had to deal with all week didn't faze me at all.
But as soon as I'm home alone it all goes to shit. I fall into a really horribly shitty mood. I'm not angry or sad or anything. I just feel like shit. I think the closest thing to how I feel is a general sense of malaise.
I'm sure a big part of it is that I have entirely too much time to think. I know better than anyone that it's not a good thing. When I sit around thinking about everything I end up working myself into, well, this. But I'm really struggling with a way out of the cycle. I'm broke so I stay home and end up thinking about being broke which makes me feel like shit. So I try thinking about ways to not be broke which ends up making me feel hopeless (don't ask why, I don't know). Gah... Stupid brain! Shut up!
Anyway, I feel like shit.
*sigh*

Hrm...

I blog more when I'm in a good mood.

Things I Think

Listening to an audience clapping in a darkened theatre, it sounds almost like rain on the pavement. And when the applause rains down it's a beautiful thing. I understand how people get addicted to it because even when it's not for me, I want it to go on forever.

New Levels In Laziness

Not only am I just stealing this meme from Robin and Adam, but I'm not even going to do the whole thing. Just the ones I feel like answering.

YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color + favorite animal)
Black Cat

YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (your middle name + street you live on)
Embury (I don't have a middle name)

YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your dad’s side, your favorite candy)
Edith Sourpatch (that sounds dirty)

YOUR PORN STAR NAME: (your first pet’s name + street you grew up on)
Ozzy Dorian Scrivener (Hawt!)

JEDI NAME: (middle name spelled backwards, your grandmother’s maiden name spelled backwards)
Nella

YOUR SUPERHERO NAME: (second favorite color + favorite alcoholic drink)
Black Hellraiser (is that like blackula?)

YOUR ACTION HERO NAME: (first name of a main character in the last movie you watched, last food you ate)
Bill Creme Egg (Oh yeah, that screams action hero)

YOUR WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (your parents’ middle names)
Leigh (Like Cher, I only need one name)

YOUR GOTH NAME: (black + the name of your pet)
Black Dorian Ozzy

FYI

I am judging you based on the kinds of books you check out at the library.

From Me To You 23

- Things that are certain to make me laugh at you: wiping your face with the bundle of cutlery wrapped in a napkin, flossing your teeth with the string from the tea bag, picking your teeth with the end of your straw and admitting to playing DDR by yourself at home (especially if it's the Mario version).

- If you're only getting one word answers from me and you have to actually say something to me first to get me to talk at all, I don't like you. In fact I don't even like you enough to waste my time explaining all of the things about you I find repellant. Believe me, if it gets to this point you should just stay the fuck away from me.

- If your girlfriend sounds like someone's mother, run. Run far and run fast. Just get the fuck away from that scary bitch.

- If you want to ask reference type questions, ask someone in reference. That's why they get the big bucks. And I'm certainly not getting enough to do their job for them.

- Acting snotty because you want me to do something differently will make me care even less about whatever it is that you're pissy about. You act like a civilized person and so will I. That's how it works.

- Repeat after me, pissing off my entire staff in order to save a few dollars is NOT worth it! The couple of dollars you'll save won't cover the loss of good people who know how to do their job.

- People work harder, for longer and do a better job when they can take pride in what they are doing and feel like they are accomplishing something. Trust me on this one. I know what I'm talking about.

- Me not liking you and me being angry at you are not always the same thing. Assuming otherwise is silliness which will make them the same thing very quickly.

- If you have to ask, I'm not mad at you.

Sloppy Seconds Go To Robin

They'd be less sloppy, but we all know that Mr. Fab is the jizziest.
Robin kissed me today, which is fine by me. She can kiss me any time she likes. In fact I have a few suggestions as to areas she might try kissing, but that's not for here.

And now it's my turn, isn't it? By bitch list is as follows...
Blue, Janna, Michelle, Sourpuss, Robin, Turnbaby and Fabs.


The Mwah! Award is a sweet kiss given to say thank you for friendships and comments in the blogosphere. Apparently it was started by Jenn in Holland.

Harder Than It Looks

35

This stupid thing seems really easy, but when the timer started my brain froze.

Excellent

Aside from being just a straight up awesome ad for something that I think very highly of, this ad has been honoured with some fantastic awards.

WTF?

I can't be the only one that noticed this. I just can't.

Tagged? What The Hell?

I believe this is the first time anyone has tagged me, ever. So I guess the honour of taking my tagging virginity goes to Mr. Fab. Well done, Sir. I'll be walking funny for days, I'm sure. You're the jizziest.
On to the meme.

Here are the rules:

Link to the person that tagged you.
Post the rules on your blog.
Share six non-important things about yourself.
Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

1. My taste in music can be a little strange and I find that peoples expectations of what my musical taste should be varies greatly from person to person. However almost everyone has been surprised that I'm a fan of Elvis, Roy Orbison, Harry Belafonte, Blondie and Johnny Cash.

2. I'm really competitive and I love to win. Don't give me that "isn't not whether you win or lose" bullshit. If winning wasn't important then why keep score? I'm not just in it to win it, I'm in it to crush you and then grind you in to the dust. (This attitude gets much worse when I'm competing with a guy.)

3. Despite what most people think, I'm actually pretty easily pleased and made happy. It's just that I am also easily angered and annoyed. The simplest explanation is that I'm emotional.

4. If you don't want an honest answer or you want a sugar coated truth, don't ask me. Seriously, you're just going to be annoyed, pissed off or hurt by what I have to say if you ask. And I'm not interested in your whinny bullshit when answer your fucking question.

5. I worry about everything. All the time. And I'm prone to panic attacks. When I'm in the middle of one it's not fun for anyone.

6. I can't stand driving without the radio or a cd playing. Unless someone is in the car with me. I turn it off as soon as anyone else gets in the car because I hate trying to talk over the music.


Alright I know that at least two of these people have been tagged already but I don't care.

- Robin
- Adam
- Bron
- Janna
- Michelle
- Blue

It's Too Fucking Cold To Be Creative

Yesterday was just lovely, what with the blizzard-like conditions. Today isn't looking like it's going to be much better, starting off at about -45. So it is officially too fucking cold for me to even attempt creativity. That and my everything hurts because I slept weird last night.
I haven't done one of these in a while (this particular meme, not memes in general), so here is the soundtrack to my life, for now anyway.

Here's how it works:

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie

Opening Credits: Heaven is in your mind - Traffic (starting off on a good note, pardon my pun)

Waking Up: Dried up, tied and dead to the world - Marilyn Manson (things went down hill pretty quickly there)

First Day At School: The Reflecting God - Marilyn Manson (This is pretty fitting actually)

Falling In Love: You've got to hide your love away - The Beatles (I wish I could say I was surprised.)

Fight Song: I did it my way - Elvis Presley (this is quite possibly the worst fight song ever.)

Breaking Up: Apple of Sodom - Marilyn Manson and Rasputina (Honest, I don't have that much Manson in my iTunes)

Prom: It's a man's world - James Brown (Don't ask, I have no idea what that means)

Life: Thank you for the venom - My Chemical Romance (sadly, this fits all too well)

Mental Breakdown: Helena - My Chemical Romance (Yeah, I could see that)

Driving: Waitress - Cloud Cult (it's got a pretty good driving beat. I could dig that)

Flashback: A Sunday kind of love - Dinah Washington (good grief)

Getting Back Together: The man comes around - Johnny Cash (I believe this is iTunes way of telling me "when hell freezes over")

Wedding: Rita Sue and Jonesy - Jeff Beal (It's from the Carnivale soundtrack and it's actually really pretty, but kind of sad)

Birth of Child: Love Train - Wolfmother (uh... yeah... weird)

Final Battle: Woman - Wolfmother (not a bad final battle song as far as the beat, but the content makes it a little strange)

Death Scene: Minnie the moocher - Cab Calloway (Um, okay. Maybe Bertie Wooster gets me in the end.)

Funeral Song: Amazing Life - Jem (The weird part is that I probably would have picked it if I'd had a choice. It's one of a couple that I like.)

End Credits: You spin me right round - Orgy (This wouldn't have been something I would have picked, but it works for me.)

No, It's Not A Girl Thing

Does anyone have $500 that they would be willing to give me? Because I really, really, really want these...

I'm going to take this moment to point out that I am NOT a "shoe person". In all honesty I own 4 pairs of shoes and only wear the one pair all the time. I don't see the point in owning hundred of pairs of shoes. I only have the one pair of feet. But I am in love with these boots.
I should mention that they are made by Motor Cowboy, makers of kick ass boots. Seriously, if I strike it rich these guys are going to benefit. If you have already struck it rich, you should check them out. Because as much as I love their shit, it ain't cheap.

Allow Me To Explain

Hello my dear troglodytes, gather 'round whilst I clear up a little matter. It seems some of you may have missed a memo or something.
If you rack up over $300 in fines at the library by, let's say losing ten items, you can dispute it until the end times and it's not going to go through. Got that? Because, you fuckwit, no one in their right mind is going to go "Oh, it's only $300 worth of our shit they lost, but they've got a really good reason so I'll just wipe it off their file! La-dee-da!" And waiting a couple of months to come in and get a new card doesn't magically make the computer forget that you LOST TEN ITEMS.
How fucking stupid do you think I am? Or the whole fucking system for that matter? The whole world isn't out to get you sweetheart, you're not that fucking important. You are, however, a useless waste of skin who is taking up far too much of everyone's time and energy with your douche baggery, your bullshit and your pathetic attempt to work the system.
I don't give a shit what your sob story is. It's about time that you realize that out here in the real world you're actually expected to take responsibility for your fuck ups. That you can and will be held accountable. That there isn't always someone or something you can pass the blame on to. And you should really get it through your thick fucking skull that there are people out there who just don't fucking buy it, not one second of it.
Don't get me wrong now, this isn't just about library fines. You've annoyed me because it's not just the library where this kind of bullshit goes on. Any system designed to help people who are genuinely in need of it is continually plagued by your sort. People who feel that they are owed something. Not that they've ever contributed to anything, ever. Just that the cosmos owe them something, everything, anything that they want. It makes me fucking sick.
People like you leech of the system and suck it dry. You make it impossible for the truly helpless to get anything. You turn people who really do want to help in to bitter, jaded shadows with no charity left. You drag everyone around you down in to the shit instead of trying to lift yourself out of it. Worst of all you pass that same disgusting attitude toward life on to your children, making sure we've always got a fresh crop of leeches to suck us all dry.
So you'll excuse me when I say fuck you and stay the fuck away from me.

Happy Birthday Adam!

Today is a very special day. It's Adam's birthday. So go to his site and give him you wishes, presents, cash, food, whatever you may have on hand.
And now, here's a song.

FYI

I've added new links. Mostly because both of these loverly ladies have said nice things about me recently. Which is really all you have to do to win my affections. Go check them out now.

That's Gonna Leave A Mark

You know what'll put a damper on your day? Getting a giant splinter jammed in to your heel. I can't say whether or not prior knowledge that it is going to happen helps at all. But I can tell you the a surprise stabbing sucks. A lot. The following need to dig said piece of wood out of the foot with a pin also sucks. A lot. And finally, the continued pain throughout the day and night - you guessed it - sucks. A lot.
All in all, it's not something I could, in good conscience, suggest you try. Which may or may not have something to do with the throbbing pain in my heel that spreads out to my toes and up to my knee.
Let me conclude by saying "ow".
owowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowow owowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowowow

Happy Birthday Kelly!

I Always Thought I Should Have A Slogan

Or at least a surgeon general's warning. Unfortunately this site only does slogans. So here they are. Be sure to have shirts, buttons, banners and what not made up to spread the word of Gwenhwyfar awesomeness!

- Gwenhwyfar - be ready.

- Step into the light with Gwenhwyfar.

- The Gwenhwyfar man.

- The best Gwenhwyfar in the world.

- Gwenhwyfar, the original.

- Gwenhwyfar inside you.

- My way is Gwenhwyfar.

- The ideal Gwenhwyfar.

- Gwenhwyfar, to hell with the rest.

- Gwenhwyfar is a never ending story.

- For the love of Gwenhwyfar.

- There is no life without Gwenhwyfar.

- Gwenhwyfar - be prepared.

- The Gwenhwyfar universe.

- Firstclass Gwenhwyfar!

- Nobody doesn't like Gwenhwyfar.

- Gwenhwyfar nonstop.

- Gwenhwyfar makes your day.

- Gwenhwyfar - it's like heaven!

- Gwenhwyfar is good for you.

- I love Gwenhwyfar.

- Gwenhwyfar, the freshmaker.

- And on the eighth day, god created Gwenhwyfar.

- The magic of Gwenhwyfar.

- You can't stop Gwenhwyfar.

- Gwenhwyfar. Making people sucessful in a changing world.

- The Queen of Gwenhwyfar.

- Think different, think Gwenhwyfar.

- Gwenhwyfar only.

- 3... 2... 1... Gwenhwyfar.

- When you say Gwenhwyfar you've said it all.

- Don't get in the way of Gwenhwyfar.

- I wish I was a Gwenhwyfar.

- Go far with Gwenhwyfar.

- There's only one true Gwenhwyfar!

$#*&!

God fucking shit hell damnit! My new fucking camera that I fucking love just fucking died because the fucking battery fucking crapped the fuck out. Which is just fucking peachy as it's a lithium fucking battery that cost $16 fucking dollars a fucking pop. So I called london fucking drugs to ask about rechargeable fucking batteries and the fucking things are fifty fucking dollars. Fuck! So I'm going to have to fucking wait until tomorrow to see if any other fucking place has them for less.
That wouldn't be so fucking bad if Kodak had any fucking sense and made the fucking camera so that when the fucking battery dies that it would shut itself the fuck off instead of leaving the fucking thing in the fucking on position, thus making it impossible to put the fucking cap on.
FUCK!

More Lazy Thievery

Sorry guys, I'm having a really not creative, completely lazy week. I can't even think of anything that pissed me off enough to rant about. At least nothing I haven't ranted about at length before. So I swiped this from Robin.

1. What would you do if your ex just showed up at your house right now?
Take my bat to his head and enjoy the fact that I have a rather long, hard, slippery set of stairs up to my door. Then leave him to freeze to death.

2. What describes your relationship status?
A lot of words that would make even the strongest spirit weep.

3. Where are you?
Physically? My bedroom. Mentally? In a dark and lonely void. Emotionally? Curled up in a corner crying.

4. Have you ever been called a bitch?
Only because it's true.

5. Would you do anything for someone else?
Anything? No. Most things? Probably. Actually I hate saying no unless I have a really good reason, so your chances are good.

6. What is your favorite animal?
Crows. I love them more than you and if you ever hurt one and I find out I swear by all that is unholy I will make you suffer before you die.

7. Who have you thought about most today?
Elliot

8. Are you a bad influence?
I'm not even going to try to deny it.

9. Color of your underwear?
Blue.

10. Honestly, what would you rather be doing right now?
I'd rather be in my huge mansion swimming in my oversized vault of money a la Uncle Scrooge while Kevin Spacey and Johnny Depp duel for my affections and Alan Rickman laughs at them both because he knows I love him.

About A Girl 2

- My face is crooked which annoys the hell out of me. It also makes it hell to get my glasses adjusted.

- I'm never unwilling to apologize when I hurt someone or if I've done someone wrong. But you will only ever get one "I'm sorry". If you can't accept that, then it's your problem, not mine. If I don't feel like I've done anything wrong you will get an apology without my accepting any actual responsibility. "I'm sorry your feeling were hurt" or "I'm sorry you feel that way". Don't expect anything more, you won't get it.

- I tend to laugh at inappropriate things or things other people don't find funny. This is a problem when people go to movies with me. I burst out laughing at Hannibal, during the lobotomy scene. If you're uptight about those things, it's best you don't take me anywhere public.

- If you get me started on a topic that I'm passionate about don't expect me to stay calm. It can't be done.

- I collect cookbooks. I have no idea why, but I love them. I have quiet a lot, from all over the place and from as far back as 1918. Chances are, if you need a recipe, I've got it or I can get it in no time. (For example, I have two recipes for gruel.)

There Needs To Be A Better Name For It

"Second cousin" just seems like such a crappy title. There has got to be something better. What am I talking about, you ask? I finally met the latest addition to the family. Little baby Data. I have to say though, I think someone at the hospital fucked up. The kid is not only TINY but also lacks any kind of tail, third eye, parasitic twin, abnormal body hair, etc. that one would expect from the spawn of Jay. However, she does do a pretty wicked impression of an old man.
We came to an understanding and so long as she holds up her end of the deal, I think we'll get along fine. I will continue to hold her in exchange for her continuing to not scream at me or projectile vomit on me. She is free to do either of those things to Jay, with all the force and vigor she can muster. But not me.
I also fully intend to teach her bad words, rude faces and to fill her full of sugar when no one is looking. Because, after all, what else is family for?
What's that? Not all family does that? Just me huh?
Okay, I can deal with that.
Now I just have to make the other two Star Trek uniforms.

Who Said Fridays Had To Be Creative

I swiped this from Adam because, well I've got nothing of my own right now.

Let’s make a band:
1. Band Name
The first article title is the name of your band.

2. Album Name
The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album.

3.Album Cover
The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

Now take your pic, add the band name and title to it, then post it.

Apparently I was born to be in a celtic band of some sort.


I think I actually like the second one I got better.

Like Drinking And Driving

Baking and blogging. Just don't do it. You think you've got a handle on things, but you're wrong. Bake for 10 minutes, yeah I can't do that. Wait... What's that burning smell? Oh. God. No.

These are the cookies of an attentive baker.


And these are the cookies of a blogger.

*They've been quarantined as you can see.

I know, it's not a pretty site. But let me be an example for the rest of you. Pay attention to your cookies.
(Lucky for me I have a grandpa that loves burnt baking. Seriously. I have cousins who will back me up on this one.)

Time To Say Goodbye

I've often been reminded that no one ever promised that life would be fair or easy. Which is probably for the best as it is riddled with unfairness, struggles, injustice, and sorrow. For every moment of joy, there is a moment of pain. For every moment of happiness that comes with with the first hello, there are the tears of the final goodbye. It's the balance of life.
It seems that no amount of experience or time ever softens the blow. Though I'm starting to understand that holding on to the happy memories rather than the sadness make the moments that follow a little easier. Knowing that the lessons learned and the impact made by that person will never be forgotten or taken for granted.
Goodbye will never be easy, so I'll hold on to the pieces I have and know that you're never really gone completely.

People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad. ~Marcel Proust

About A Girl

Okay, so after doing the Seven Weird Things post the other day I read a few different blogs all suggesting different ways to keep yourself writing. The consensus seems to be set daily features. Now as much as I'm not really down with a set schedule for every single day, but monday is normally a shit day anyway. So from now on I'm going to try to remember to do at least one of these. They may not all be weird, they may not all be exciting, but they will all be true.

- I have a tendency to eat some strange things, but I swear they're all delicious. Peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, peanut butter on perogies, smoked eel, pickled herring, cheese wiz and raisins, etc.

- It takes a lot for me to say I hate a movie. I can usually find something I like about even the worst films. But if I do hate a film, I hate it a lot.

- I'm prejudiced against certain names. I know it's stupid but you have enough bad experiences with the same name, it kind of forms a mental block. Highest ranking for men, Scott and John. Highest for women, Amber and Tara.

- I hate wearing socks. I only wear them when I have to and when the need has passed they are the first things I ditch.

- I have a horrible tendency to walk around my house in my pajamas which, however sexy you may want to believe it is, is not. You obviously don't know enough single 20-somethings who own cats.

The Morning After

Last night was the big radio show with Mr. Fab and I must say, that was not just one butt load of fun. It was more like a dozen butt loads of fun. I only wish it had been longer. Somehow time and space don't matter during that show and it becomes the shortest hour ever.
We talked about child sized coffins, hinterlands who's who, my fear of hospitals and moths (which I found a kindred spirit in Mrs. Fab, at least on the moth issue), flying, japanese sex toys, where to keep a vibrator disguised as a vegetable, butt plugs, KFC, Canada and much more. I also got a chance to talk to Turnbaby, mistress of the sultry southern drawl and Robin, keeper of the American snow and a wicked hot lady to boot. Lynne called in too, but I talk to her all the time. So there.
Anyway, I had a blast. Thanks to everyone who listened, called in, came to check out the site, sat in the chat room, etc. And thanks again to Mr. Fab for having me on.

Oh, forgot to mention, if you missed the show you can still hear it in the archives.

The Big Reminder

Just in case you all forgot, I will be the guest on Mr. Fab's radio show tomorrow. That's 7pm EST. Don't ask me what that is your time, I haven't got a clue. Be there or be square, in fact be there and also be square.

Old City Cemetery

Yes, I know it's terribly goth of me but honestly I find the cemetery a very peaceful, relaxing place. It's where I go when I'm having a bad day or if I'm stressed. Odder still, the new cemetery doesn't do it for me at all (and this one is home to my great grandfather.)

Seven Weird Things

After watching Mr. Fab's video post I decided to take a crack at this meme. I'm kind of neurotic (and by "kind of" I mean "completely") and I have lots of weird habits, so I should be able to come up with seven, no prob. Let's see...

1. When I eat breakfast I have to take a sip of my drink (no matter what it is) before I eat any of the food. I usually do this at any meal, but I'm really picky about that one at breakfast. Don't ask me why. I have no fucking clue.

2. There are certain movies I HATE watching with other people. Not to say I hate those movies, not at all. In fact almost all of them are my favourite movies. Which may be why I hate watching them with other people. So don't ever ask if I want to watch Edward Scissorhands with you. The answer will almost certainly be no.

3. I can't stand sitting with my back to the room, even worse if I have my back to a door. I seriously can't deal with it. It makes me all jumpy and uncomfortable. If there is even a glimmer of hope that I can sit with my back to a wall I will take it. I'm pretty sure I was a mob boss in a past life.

4. Despite the fact that I work at the library, I buy a lot of books. I know I can get the same ones, for free, from work. But I like to own my books. Mostly because I want to be the first one to read them. That and I am the most anal retentive person in regards to the state of my books ( as well as DVDs and CDs) that I know. I take great pains to keep them looking the way they did the day I bought them. Which means if I catch you cracking the spines of my books I will do the same to you. (As you may have guessed, the list of people who are allowed to borrow my books is short and only getting shorter.)

5. I hate liars. I hate them more than I can put in to words. It is also one of the few things I cannot forgive. Ever. If you lie to me once it makes you a liar and I have to question everything you've ever told me and anything you may tell me. And I have absolutely no qualms with completely removing you from my life. No one is important enough to escape this judgement.

6. I talk to my cats. Yeah, I'm the fucking crazy cat lady, you got a problem with that!? Fuck you.

7. I never put my heat rub, migraine pills or MSM cream (for tendonitis) away because whenever I put them away I end up needing them. I don't know why, but it never fails. So I leave them out.

---------

Bonus:

8. Sharp knives must be washed and put away immediately after use. I don't do that with any other dishes (though I probably should), just the sharp knives. It actually bothers me a lot when someone uses my knives and then leaves them all dirty and crusted with gunk next to the sink.

9. When I buy a new season of any TV show on DVD I have to watch it all before I watch anything else. Which means I have watched no less than 15 seasons of various shows in a single sitting. (I did that with every season of M*A*S*H*.) I have no idea why, it's just something I do.

10. It's pointless for me to have more than one pair of shoes because when I find a pair of shoes I like, that's all I'm going to wear. No matter what the function or the weather. I will wear them until they die, I will mourn my shoes and then I will buy a new pair just to start the process over again.

More Pictures Of Stuff

I took these today, mostly just outside the city on a dirt road. For my money, I can't think of any way I would have rather spent the day.

Delicious Music

This really makes me want a snack, or at least a flute made out of a carrot.

I Have Nothing To Say

I'm sorry guys, I'm having one of those weeks where I'm not feeling funny. Or angry. Or anything. I just don't have anything worth saying. (Yeah, yeah, when do I ever?) So here's a brief update on what I've been up to or am going to be up to.

- I received my brand new PSP (gotta love christmas money) and despite what some cousins (who will remain Jay and G) may think, I love it a whole bunch. Definitely a step up from my old Gameboy. I also got a game, because what's the point of a new system without games? So I've been playing the new Beowulf game, which all-in-all, not a bad game at all. Now I just have to get a memory stick.

- I spent even more money in another rash move today when I ordered the Complete Jeeves and Wooster. I realize this makes me the biggest fucking nerd you've never met, but I love Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry more than I can say. I also love P.G. Wodehouse more than you. All of you. To my credit though, I did order it off Amazon and saved myself almost $60 (which I still can't fucking believe... what the fuck is Future shop trying to pull!? $145 my ass.)

- Everyone I sent packages to before christmas has now received them. No one has complained. I think my work is done.

- My friend Chris not only brought me a present from Japan, he brought me a fucking Bento Box with engrish! *squee!!!*

- Next week I will be guesting on Mr. Fab's radio show. I'm a little afraid, especially if you replace "a little" with "extremely". But anyone who knows Mr. Fab should be. Feel free to listen, but I'm not promising to be even remotely entertaining. I don't want you to get your hopes up and them be horribly disappointed.

Congrats!

Jay and Laura, congrats very much.

Thanks for taking the pressure off the rest of us for a while. (And when that runs out I'll just do like I usually do and tell them to talk to Reid.)

IT'S HERE!!!!!!

It's not often I check for mail (like actual mail type mail... you remember... a person delivers it to your house) and end up squealing like a schoolgirl and giggling like a maniac. But today, today was different. At first I was confused because, though the package had my name on it, I had no idea who it was from. Plain brown envelope, not a sender I recognized, I certainly wasn't expecting anything. Hmmm...
So I sliced it open and slid out a clear CD case that has become the highlight of my day, possibly my year.
SKULLMONKEYS! YAY!
I bought it off eBay ages ago and had been waiting long enough that I had stopped compulsively checking my mailbox every ten minutes. But now it's here and it's all mine!
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you should be ashamed of yourself. And once you've become sufficiently shamed you should seek out and play it because it is the greatest game in the world. (With the exception of the Neverhood.)

Now That Xmas Is Over

New Toy

After much bitching and complaining about my very old, very shit, very thrashed camera my parents got me a new one for Xmas. And my, is it ever spanky. I love it. A lot. Especially because after my parents gave it to me my mom realized that it's way better than hers and this is annoying the shit out of her. (Don't you all wish you could have wonderful children like me?)
Anyway, I should mention that I am not a photographer in even the broadest sense of the word. I don't know how I manage to do it, but I fuck up 99.9% of every picture I take. But I still do like having a camera because sometimes you just need to snap a picture of something. This camera makes me especially happy because it has a panoramic setting, which is something I love and it's something I know I can do reasonably well. (By that of course I mean the pictures don't look like they were taken by a drunken 5 year old.)
So here are a few pictures I took the night I got it.

Box Set Luck

Nearly every xmas for the last ten years I have had at least one box set on my list. And I normally get one from my parents or my brother. But for some reason Gwenhwyfar + xmas + box set = disaster. I don't get it. I buy box sets for myself throughout the year and never have a problem but come xmas, there is always something wrong. Most notably was last year.
My parents relented and bought me a Johnny Cash box set (they hate Johnny, the freaks). I, being the childish present opener I am, opened it right up. (Don't ask why I do that, I don't know. I just have to see the whole thing.) And inside... nothing. I really thought they were shitting me. No disks, no booklet, nothing. In fact the spots for the CDs were warped so they wouldn't have held any CDs even if they had been in there. (By the way, you try taking a box set back on boxing day and try to convince the guy at the returns counter that there were no disks in there.)
This year my bother bought me the entire series of The Young Ones and I was ecstatic. (if you haven't seen this show, you should. Two words - Rik Mayall.) Once again I cracked it open to take a look. And then I noticed something. Three disks. Disk two, disk two and disk three.
Crap.
I even tried the disks to see if it was a misprint or if they were fucking with me. No. Disk two, disk two and disk three.
Crap.
*Sigh* So we're going to take it back and exchange it.
Maybe I'll see if they can do something about my box set curse while I'm there.

To All My Friends,

I appreciate you all more than you will ever know. You have all at one time or another (whether you knew it or not) been the support I needed most. And I owe you all a thousand thanks.

Always,

-Gwenhwyfar

Saying It While You Can

I've heard it said a hundred times I'm sure. "Say it while you can." Tell the people you love that you love them. Tell the people that have helped you that they have made a difference. Tell the people who are important that they mean something to you. While you still can. Because you never know what tomorrow holds. Because if you don't, one day you'll find that you can't and nothing will fix the guilt you feel at never saying the words out loud.
Yesterday I found out that someone who was at one time a very important person in my life is dying. And as I have no real way of telling him in person I'm going to take this opportunity to say it, because I never took the time to tell him.
Thank you, Sir. For all the days I know you stayed late just to listen to me. For giving me someone to talk to. For making me feel important. You made some of the most painful years tollerable just by taking the time to learn my name and giving me the opprtunity to talk things out. From the first time I met you until the very last time I said good-bye you were nothing but supportive and understanding. Even when we both knew I was being selfish or childish you still validated what I was feeling. You gave me worth when I felt worthless.
I don't think you'll ever really know how much that meant to me, how much it still means to me. You helped me become a stronger person and I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay.
I am forever in your debt.

A Little Bit Of Holiday Stealin'

Not only am I being lazy, but I'm a thief. It's going to be a good day. (And apparently my iPod thinks I'm a lesbian who listens to too much cloud cult.)

Rules: Put your music player on shuffle, press forward for each question and use the song title as the answer.

What does next year have in store for me?
Hung up - Madonna

What's my love life like?
Peaches - Presidents of the USA

What do I say when life gets hard?
Scabs, Guns and Peanut Butter - Marilyn Manson

What do you think of on waking up?
Princess Bride - Cloud Cult

What song will I dance to at my wedding?
Bad Timing - Blue Rodeo

What do you want as a career?
Lucky today - Cloud Cult

Your favorite saying?
Happy Hippo - Cloud Cult

Favorite place?
Cooking it up - James Asher

What do you think of your parents?
Fly me to the moon - Dinah Washington

What's your porn star name?
Management's Advice - Jeff Beal

Where would you go on a first date?
Blue Moon - Billie Holiday

Drug of choice?
I'm only happy when it rains - Garbage

Describe yourself.
Shoes - Kelly

What is the thing i like doing most?
Black Sunshine - White Zombie

What is my state of mind like at the moment?
Diary of a dope fiend - Marilyn Manson

How will I die?
Best Friend - Cloud Cult

Who Loves Q?

I loves Q.

Just sayin'.

You're All Retarded, Right? Is That The Problem?

On my drive home from work (a whole 20 minute drive) I was nearly rear-ended no less than eight times. Why? Because some people seem to forget how to drive as soon as it snows and others didn't know how to drive in the first place.
If you can see the glare off the street, chances are that they're fucking icy, you stupid fuck. Didn't you clue in when you fish-tailed around the corner? There's a really good reason I'm doing 40. It fucking snowed all day and the roads are terrible.
But that's okay, you keep chatting on your goddamned cell phone and braking at the last possible goddamned second. It's okay that I can see you skidding toward me, pumping your fucking brakes because, hey, I was right. The roads are terrible. And please, by all means, you ride my fucking bumper for as long as you can. I know there are two lanes of traffic, but changing lanes is a lot of work. Right?
I'm sure you have somewhere really important to be, so it's perfectly okay with me.
I fucking hate people.