Which I shall do again here:

It was a bit of a relief to spend so long NOT dealing with trolls, concern or otherwise. But you know what they say…

Haters Gonna Hate! Julian Assange and Me

So, just to double-check, as there is every possibility I may be headed to LA to house-sit for a friend, come February which, I don’t care what April says, really is the cruellest month. Have I made the right choice of career (all others having rejected me out of hand, but that’s their loss HATERS GONNA HATE AMIRITE)?

Let us ask the almighty Interweb:

You Should Be a Script Writer

You are verbal, witty, and expressive. You have probably always had a way with words. You are intellectual and brainy. You are well read, and you will read anything you can get your hands on.You have a vivid imagination. You can create a whole new world inside your mind. You love challenges, especially when they involve learning new things. You love to step outside your comfort zone.

GPOY: Occupy Pumpkin Patch

via Vicki McLeod

One does not simply walk into Gourd Door

I had the best costume today, even if the mask didn’t fit very well.

V for Vogue

The best part was that when people at, say, Starbucks looked surprised and alarmed (and they did) I just said, “Well, we TOLD you to expect us!” and they’d laugh.

Didn’t get the pumpkin carved in time (Elvish characters are a bitch to make without a proper Elven Pumpkin Carving Dagger) so I guess I’ll be eating a lot of curry, soups, and pie [holla, Oxford Comma] in the near future. And even though I had no jack o’ lantern and the porch light was out, I did get a few kids showing up: one four year old Super Mario, one six year old witch, a three year old um something vampiric I guess, and two older kids around twelve, one dressed in civvies and the other at least halfheartedly tried with a boy scout uniform. I rooted through the kitchen in desperation and ended up giving out all the apples. Super Mario Boy, “Oh goody, I LOVE apples!” By the time I remembered the lowfat caramel dip (what do you dip in it, Jenny Craig?) I was all out of Trick or Treaters for this year.

Then the cats and I spent four hours watching the fireworks in the park behind the house. Yes. Four. Hours. Every time there was a pause the black cat would freak out and start frantically pawing at the glass to make it start again. The bizarre thing is, it worked Every. Single. Time. The other cat expressed himself more directly, by expressing himself over the rug which is, thank god, machine washable.

In other news of unholy manifestations, I see that He is risen at last.

That’s right, bitches: Cthulhu is back!

Cthulhu is fit to be Thai'd

As you can clearly see from these before-and-after pictures of the Chao Phraya river, He has returned…to Thailand. Great, do you have any idea how much the airfare will be?

HE could be a little more considerate, knowmasayin’?

Cthulhu as Nixon. He really IS evil.

and believe me, I NEED that Flak Jacket lately

Keep your shoes on. You’ll see why.

In Vancouver, when we go into someone’s house, we generally take our shoes off; it’s something we probably picked up from Asia, and for those of us who don’t enjoy vacuuming, which is all right-thinking people if you axe me, it makes a great deal of sense.

Not in Yellowknife.

Judging completely by my own experience, for I cannot judge by anyone else’s, not being anyone else (except for icecoaster) and thus not having had their experiences, I would say not only don’t take your shoes off, but you might want to keep that jacket handy as well, and not just because it’s getting chilly lately.

In case you’re unfamiliar with the history of my Great Yellowknife Adventure, here is some background which should fill you in, right up to the present moment. You may want to keep a sick bag handy as well; I don’t make up the facts, I just report them.

So…in Vancouver I live in a co-op, which is both extremely well-situated and extremely affordable, my earnings since I got sick last fall being of the minimal variety, and co-op rates being tied to income. When people ask why my earnings have been minimal, I explain that being self-employed and having to take several months off for health reasons, then, while recovering, jumping back into a market where social media trainers outnumber social media students by a ratio of about two to one is precisely what I believe Forbes defines as your basic “challenging business environment.” So, earnings being minimal, and Vancouver being somewhat less enchanting of late for various and sundry (although, alas, not tawdry; that would be more entertaining) reasons, I cast my eye abroad. Or along. Or above.

And ended up in Yellowknife. My friend Nancy, whom I met on Twitter, sent me a message that Kellett Communications was looking for a digital project manager. We chatted via Skype, they checked me out on LinkedIn, and after a few back and forths they came back and said they’d hired someone with more direct project management experience, but would I be interested in coming up and learning it while they built up the social media side? Well, given the chance to start basically the first social media agency in the NWT, I said Yes! Well duh, of COURSE I did. There’s nothing someone who’s good at something hates so much as not doing that thing, and god knows, I wasn’t doing it in Vancouver, but Yellowknife was like stepping back to, say 2002 in Vancouver in terms of social media: everything was just about to start happening. An awesome opportunity, and while I was up there, I could get involved with a nonprofit or even start my own, bringing the power of the digital revolution to remote communities just as I had to the homeless and the marginalized on Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside.

I got a start date (which I managed to miss by a day: my own damn fault for not allowing enough time at the airport, yes, even at 5am) and a sublet; the sublet was amazingly handy. Four blocks from work, fully furnished, and (for Yellowknife) a good price. I should explain something: a good price for Yellowknife is approximately what a Yaletown condo would cost. This is not a place that one could describe as “reasonable” by any means. Or on any level: read on.

The sublet was courtesy of a commenter on Crasstalk, and she’d be gone from June through to the start of October, which was perfect, as I’d know by mid-September whether or not the job would be a go; after you’ve been self-employed since the last century, going back to working for someone else is a big adjustment, and so it proved. Over and over and over again, but more of that anon…

All was going swimmingly for a couple-three weeks, or as swimmingly as anything can go when it involves me waking up before the crack of noon, when I got an email from the woman from whom I was subletting: things weren’t working out down South, she was coming back. Hokay then: we briefly considered her subletting my co-op in Vancouver but:

1. I’d left it in No Sublettable Condition, having recently taken delivery of a bunch of extra furniture I was supposed to sell (guess what I didn’t have time to put on Craigslist before I left?) and me being at the best of times no great housekeeper; when you add being seriously ill for a period of months and then in recovery from surgery, you have one epic hell of a messy apartment.
2. My housing agreement (indeed, ALL co-op housing agreements) specifically outlaw subletting, to discourage profiteering.

So. Back she was coming and what was I going to do about it? Well, as it happens I stayed on the futon in her living room till, with Nancy‘s help, I found a shared house with a sympatico-seeming hippie type at a wicked good price for Yellowknife, and arranged to move in August 1. When we parted I said, “So, unless I hear something from you that everything’s gone sideways,” for lo, I am way cautious, verily dudes. For that carpet has been pulled out from my feet already here in YZF, as you can conclude from the above and if you can’t, take some smart pills and read it again, but where was I? Oh yes, “we’re on for the first of August, right?” She nodded and said, “right,” and we were in business.

Cut to August 1.

There I am, trundling up the walkway to the door. There Nancy is, leaning against her mother’s car, ready to help me with my things. And there the hippie is, walking out the door towards me with a shit-eating grin on her face…take it away, icecoaster:

Who YOU calling a tramp, buddy?

Oh, guess what. Sorry I didn’t get back to you. I’ve been offline. Camping, actually. So you couldn’t have gotten in touch with me but, anyway, when I didn’t hear from you I just, you know, sort of figured I’d just go ahead and change my mind. Sorryyyyyy. So, yeah.

So.

It’s a good thing I’ve been scouting out charities to volunteer for, because at least I am well-informed about homeless shelter options in Yellowknife.

Cut to August 2.

There I am, beavering away (does not mean what you think it means; you have a dirty mind. That’s why I like you) at Kellett, doggedly learning that Project Management isn’t my favorite thing in the world but oh well, it must be done. And there I am, doing it. Right there on the lunch table. Because I don’t really have a desk, but that’s another story; well, I have a desk, but it’s in the boardroom, which is down the stairs, down the sidewalk a couple of doors, up some other stairs, and down the hall, but that’s neither here nor there, not either desk which I have.

Make that had a desk.

I get an email from the boss: could I come and see him for about 15 minutes? Sure, of course I can; I may be newish to this “employment” thing, but if there’s one thing I know it’s when the boss says, “could you” you say YES. So I said Yes and was even on time when I got there and when I got there he laid me off.

“Not enough social media work, sorry.”

Imagine my joy.

And then he clarified that, no, he wouldn’t be getting me a ticket back to Vancouver.

Being efficient-like, I went back and packed up my lunch supplies and papers and such (although dammit, I did forget that fresh new case of mini-yogurts in the fridge, and when you’re homeless anything you don’t have to heat up is bonus points) and went back to the place I was couch-surfing until I found a house-sit, and emailed the co-op, figuring, not unreasonably, that they would revise their estimation of the housing charges.

No such luck: because I was employed on August 1 (the holiday) I had to pay over $700 for the Vancouver place. Which wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t also had to pay $1400 for the Yellowknife place in July. Between the two of them, my housing charges for the four weeks I was employed exceeded my net pay by a significant amount. And that’s why I can’t just buy my own ticket back to Vancouver.

Today I got an email that because they don’t yet have the ROE from Kellett proving that I was laid off, my housing charges for September are also over $700.

Ah, but there’s more, if you’re still with me. And if you’re not with me, you’re agin me, as old people with single tooths in their heads are wont to say. Why would anyone wont to say that, though? I ask yez.

So. Thanks again to Nancy, I got a really good house-sitting gig for most of August: handy to stores, three stories, jacuzzi, cushy sofa, big tv, lynxes walking down the driveway. Sweet. After that gig ended, the deal was, I stay with Nancy a few days, house-sitting while she was down South, and then on September 1 I crash on my friend’s futon; this was the place I’d originally sublet. She felt bad enough for me to let me crash there for a few weeks until I fly back to Vancouver on the 18th for Social Media Week.

Cut to today.

I open my email and there, in #000000 and #FFFFFF, it is: the email that says Sorry, you can’t stay here.

Indeed. Apparently I cannot.

But wait, I just thought of something...Teepee for me

Now, I don’t know about you. I only know about me. Do we have to go over this again? But one thing I do know about other people, and particularly people who pride themselves on being mathematically/computorially/autodidactically inclined is, the very existence of things like tarot cards offends them on some level.

So, naturally, I forwarded the information about Julian Assange‘s tarot cards to the head of the JulianAssangeFanciersGuild. And who among us would not have done the same, I asks yez? Eh?

Quite.

Some time later I got chatting with the tarot card reader (a tarot card reader who does readings via Twitter: welcome, in one perfect swoop of fellage, to the Twenty-First Century) and she offered to do a reading for me, for free. And as I’m inordinately fond of that particular F Word, I accepted, and that with what I believe is called alacrity. And while you’ll have to do without Julian’s reading, for lo I cannot find it, you can read mine, and it is VERY entertaining, particularly if you know anything about tarot.

Now, you can argue whether or not it “works,” but the one thing you cannot argue is that it is very, very, VERY, and did I mention VERY unlikely that any person’s reading will consist entirely of Major Arcana, ie facecards, over multiple readings and, indeed, multiple readers.

But.

Somehow, it always works out this way for me. Al. Ways.

And so it was this time, mathematically impossible as it was.

@raincoaster I'll read 4 u anytime on request! I'll draw one now! Wheel of Fortune! What goes up, must come down. Stock Mkt. Turn of events—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

To everything, turn turn turn, there is a seasoning WAIT THAT'S NOT HOW IT GOES!

@NYC_TarotReader Any time. I've only had my cards done a few times, but it's always freaky. ALL major arcana, it freaks the readers out—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@NYC_TarotReader and see? Major arcana, just like I told you—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster powerful people who have cleared up a lot of the past become Archetypes when called 4 causes and 2 serve a true cause! MustBU!—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

There's a big yellow thing in the sky and I think it's giving off radiation WHAT DO I DO???

@raincoaster got the Sun on that so ur going somewhere..either from childhood home or sunny clime..anther Major! Man!—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

@NYC_TarotReader Ha! that's hilarious! My stock on @EmpireAve is going down, and I moved North. Does this mean I'm going back to Vancouver?—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@NYC_TarotReader Oh my, I have to copy these down and save them to a folder. Between you and @angelneptustar you're scaring me!—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster Divination is incredibly accurate. In the Chaos of the cards is Order! What seems random, never is! Just need 2 c more 2 realiz—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

@NYC_TarotReader I just moved from rainy Vancouver to Yellowknife, where it's sunny 24/7 right now—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster the cards never lie!!!!! Like ppl do;-)—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

@NYC_TarotReader Well, I've been slightly creeped out every since they predicted my cancer, but they haven't been wrong yet!—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster Readers don't usually do that! Under treatment?Pau D' Arco,herb from bark of amazon tree cure my adv cancr when all else failed—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster too much power of suggestion!Reader off base! Illness, yes! Specifics like cancer, NO!Reader taking ur power away!lots of abuse—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

@NYC_TarotReader He was my best friend, too, and it scared him. I was diagnosed a month later. All better now—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster alls well that ends well. As a best friend a reader can see ad say more so I quess that's cool!—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

@NYC_TarotReader Turned out he'd seen Death looming, basically, but that I'd have a year to fight it off, during which I'd have luxury.—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster death can b read many ways; change, trasformation; rebirth! Glad ur better now!!!—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

What can I say? He made me do it!

Hang it all, Houdini!

@NYC_TarotReader So all he said was "You'll get your idea of perfect luxury and I'm not going to say any more".—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster drew last cards 4 U. Devil & Hanged Man. Illness,Fear, Bondage& and Transformation. All looks different fr an inversion. Free—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster all Major Arcana again. Wow! U must b something else again!!!—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

Well, can’t disagree with THAT now, can we?

@NYC_TarotReader Ha! well, even my enemies would agree that I'm Something Else! So those last ones are inverted? Good—
  (@raincoaster) July 26, 2011

@raincoaster keep up the good work! Shine On u Crazy Diamond!(Pink Floyd)—
Shyanne LaCuesta (@NYC_TarotReader) July 26, 2011

and some further remarks I got via DM:

they follow each other. Resurection 2 regeneration/gestation

I read both neg and pos as part of the read. Positive if best happens. Neg if u fuck up! Either possible according 2 ur actions. Open future….

Freedom…reads situation and best and worst outcome…depends on how u handle it,,,,

So hanged man is the persecuted or the Ego B4 tranSformation. And Death is Transmutation or Inertia/Slow Change. Either can happen..

It a Eyes Wide Open Conscious Choice.,free 2 choose….the old free will thing…it says choose w caution…here’s situation and ur CHOICES

And I choose: to take this as an easy blog post! So, I’m ahead on that whole “productivity” thing already!

Batman's Buggysnake was HUGE!

What’s that they say about not frightening the horses? Now that we’ve set the mood, here is a lovely little video of Batman’s sexiest costars, including everyone from Eartha Kitt to Tallulah Bankhead. Okay, they’re really one soul in two bodies. How about everyone from Zsa Zsa Gabor to Jill St. John…oh, okay, same deelio. Lemme try again.

Well fuckit, just skip ahead to 1:29 to witness Batman having a Brady Fetish Moment.

MARCIA!!!

Doesn’t that just turn your crank?

Batman gets his bat trunks in a twist

As if that weren’t enough, check out this Euro-fabulous (or is that Brazilian-fabulous) Bat Dance, 100% Prince-free!

and the sequel

But wait: there’s more! Yes, it’s Hump Day, and that means gossip links! And since this roundup took me two and a half hours, you’d better believe you’re only getting one post per blog today! Click over the jump for the extra-elaborate and extra-profane celebrity gossip for the day.

Hotter than EuroDisney: it’s the Abortionplex! Yelp, the greatest website of the bourgeoisie, reaches its apotheosis in this collection of reviews of the Onion’s fictional Abortionplex. Come for the D&C’s, stay for the Mojitos! (raincoaster)

Servicey! How to open a bottle without a bottle opener. And NO, “twist it off” isn’t the answer unless you’re the Incredible Hulk. I knew the Incredible Hulk. The Incredible Hulk was a friend of mine. And YOU, sir, are no – you know what? I’ve used that joke too many times. (ManoloFood)

Do the Maliboogie! You put your left foot in. You take your left foot out, with great effort, because you were as stupid as Katie Holmes, and wore three inch heels on the beach! (Ayyyy)

Steve Buscemi welcomes you to Emo Disney. So I guess today’s gossip blogs are travel themed. Still, I’d totally pay to see Steve as Mickey Mouse, directed by Quentin Tarantino. When you get your picture taken with him, ask if you can hold the severed hand. (Lolebrity)

“Oh I say!” says Prince Philip. “No, seriously, I said that? I said THAT? Well bloody hell, you don’t think I was SOBER at the time, do you? Quick, blame the fucking peasants!” (Crasstalk)

Lady Gaga is completely tasteless. The GooGoo Diet? Real dieters stick with The Drinker’s Diet, even if they dumped the man who invented it! If it was good enough for Dino, it’s good enough for you, honey. (AgentBedhead)

George Harrison pities the fool. Then wonders why a Canadian gossip blogger is referencing Mister T on a Beatle post, then shrugs amiably as well as posthumously, realizing that nobody who lived through the 80′s escaped unchanged by them. (BusyBeeBlogger)

Justin Timberlake DID NOT GO THERE! And you can’t make him go, you with your tawdry, nicotine-stained fashionistas. GOD! (CelebDirtyLaundry)

Cougar Sausage! Someone needs to tell Janice Dickinson that turkey skin and gristle in a tube sock is not an attractive look. (CelebritySmack)

Jet Skis fail to take a victim. This time. Hey, that gives me an idea for a horror series. GET ME ELI ROTH! (CelebVIPLounge)

LeAnn Rimes Fatty Fat Fat Fatso Fatty Fatpants. There, if that doesn’t get me trashed on Jezebel, nothing ever will. (CityRag)

Blake Lively is apparently spotted like a hyena under all those clothes, or at least that’s what her publicist is being paid to say. Do you think she ever looks back at her humanities degree and wonders where she went wrong? (DailyStab)

Courtney Love, aristocrat. Stiffing servants like she was born to it: Thatta girl! At this rate one of them will poison you shortly. (EarSucker)

It’s Bimbo vs Bimbo in the Seaside Smackdown of the Season. In related news, Jon Derek wants her number. (FitFabCeleb)

The Womb Broom Room: sixteen celebrities sporting mustaches. And not ONE is an Italian woman (well, we’re not sure about Efron)! (GirlsTalkinSmack)

Sue Sylvester lays the smackdown on that uppity Wasilla Hillbilly. In related news, Jane Lynch for president! (HaveUHeard)

Justin Bieber is so totally perving to this topless massage picture in private. That’s an auto-timed Twitpic if ever I saw one; young man, you go to your room and LEAVE THE STARLET BEHIND! (HollywoodHiccups)

RPattz and KStew’s wedding video! ZOMG CAN YOU BELIEVE BREAKING DAWN IS COMING??? ZOMG can you believe how much longer we have to pretend to be excited about this shit? Someone stop that woman before she writes another! (INeedMyFix)

Jennifer Love Hewitt’s latest drama: this outfit. Is that an oversized, beaded beige Iroquois jumpsuit? (MathewGuiver)

Britney Spears: too special for the unassisted human ear. Like the gods of ancient Greece, she requires the services of a special interpreter in order to make herself appreciated by mere mortals. (PoorBritney)

Oh, US TOO, PARIS! (PopBytes)

Squeeeeeeee! Peter Brady is single! Cougars, start your engines! (Swoonworthy)

This is as close to amputee porn as Reese Witherspoon is ever going to get, so enjoy? Also, she looks like she’s ready to claw your faceoff, so bonus Catfight Points. (TheSkinny)

Avril Lavigne doesn’t give an F about Americans. But she gave one TO Americans. Oh, those kooky Quebecois! (TheSkinnyChic)

Selah.