Not only is she PRETTY sure she saw Colin Freaking Firth down in Gastown today, but she got all her paid blogging done by 10am, she got invited on a Bobwheeling ride-along, AND she picked up all of the following for a grand total of less than $30:
DVD of The House on Haunted Hill starring, again, Vincent Price. I understand the actual house has been torn down, which is a bloody shame and just goes to show you LA has no sense of history.
DVD of The Ice Harvest, which I only bought because I’m a sucker for a John Cusack movie. Well, because I’m a sucker for a John Cusack movie and a caper film. Well, because I’m a sucker for a John Cusack movie and a caper film and a dark, twisted comedy.
When the hell did I switch to the first person, anyway? Being up in the daytime has COMPLETELY discombobulated me.
A lovely pink lacy cardigan that covers mah butt.
A lovely ombre baby blue cardigan that, again, covers mah butt.
UPDATE: I forgot to mention the beautiful blue/grey houndstooth hipster sombrero and the $80 wrestling boots I picked up at the DemiCouture sale at W2 on Sunday. But I DID! The wrestling boots are black Reeboks, which will wear out in no time but are cushy as the road to Hell in the meantime, and being black ankle boots make me feel like Batgirl every time I put them on. And the two of them together cost me $15. YES, you SHOULD hire me to do your shopping. 10% of gross and I’m yours.
And as I was rooting through the rather random assortment of DVDs there and passing up some awesome films like A History of Violence because it was $9.99 instead of $1.99 like the others and it’s Cronenberg and how many times can you watch that, really, even if you ARE a Viggofan? one of the Army Navy staffers walked by, uttered a squawk, and grabbed the Mamma Mia which I’d moved from in front of the much more interesting Van Helsingwhich isn’t actually an interesting movie unless you’re fascinated by the optical illusion of the cross-stitch on Kate Beckinsale’s bodice (are those nipples or are they…?) or by the sheer sexual magnetism of Hugh Jackman, which gosh, nobody we know would be, would she now?
Did I mention I’m rather overloaded at the moment? I believe I may have made a passing reference to that situation in the recent past. And overload is antithetical to blogging. Antithetical? That so totally can’t be right.
Stupid spelchekar!
Well, add to that the fact that my bank card apparently won’t work, even though for once there is money in the account and which usually means VISA is mad at me for some reason although I DID make the payment this month but, let’s face it, Mister Visa is an evil, evil man.
And people are now stopping me in the street asking me how to post on their blogs when FearlessCity is down, which it has been for something well over one and possibly approaching two weeks, so I take a few hours out of my day, meet them at Job Shop, and set them up on WordPress.com of course instead. We’ll copy/paste later, although by that time they might be spoiled for Drupal blogging, who knows?
And, oh yes, having spent some of today trying on clothes I realize that making time to exercise is No. Longer. Optional. Frankly, I’m lucky my ass fits in a jeep, never mind jeans.
Also, I’ve consumed basically nothing but bacon-maple donuts, fries, dim sum, cake, and alcohol since Friday afternoon, for which I have to take my friends’s word, as I do not actually recall. Not that this is unusual for me…
So, blog posts are coming. In the meantime, have a nice summer song:
B-52’s Roam
I hear a wind
whistling air
whispering
in my ear
Boy mercury shootin through every degree
oh girl dancin down those DIRTY and DUSTY trails
take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
around the world the trip begins with a kiss
roam if you want to
roam around the world
roam if you want to
without anything but the love we feel
skip the air-strip to the sunset yeah
ride the arrow to the target
take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
around the world the trip begins with a kiss
roam if you want to
roam around the world
roam if you want to
without anything but the love we feel
fly the great big sky see the great big sea
kick through continents bustin bounaries
take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
around the world the trip begins with a kiss
roam if you want to
roam around the world
roam if you want to
without wings, without wheels
roam if you want to
roam around the world
roam if you want to
without anything but the love we feel
take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
It was a beautiful Sunday. Not a drop of rain, just enough sun to burn off the moisture from the Seawall, leaving it perfect for skating. A slight sea breeze, keeping it cool enough to be enjoyable and Chinatown fresh enough not to attract too damn many screaming shithawks. My chores were done, my work was done, and I was free.
I checked my email.
Suddenly, it was no longer a perfect Sunday. It was a deeply, irrevocably flawed Sunday.
It was the Sunday on which I found out that the contract which makes up 40% of my income had vanished, Poof, into thin air. The company just stopped paying their bills, it seems. The company for whom I’m subcontracting is going to pay me for my work to this point, but not beyond, so suddenly I find myself with a considerable amount of free time and a considerable hole looming in my bank account.
Naturally, I self-medicated in an entirely irrational fashion. I figure if the universe can be irrational to me, I can be irrational right back. I went on what someone on a budget as tight as mine would call a bender: I went to the Ovaltine for a house burger and diet Coke, $7, then I took myself down to the A&N boutique where I bought two new, lacy bras for $4.98 apiece and three summer tees at 3 for $9.99, and then I went for a long walk down Robson where I saw many, many shoes I now cannot afford and even walked right past the 40% off sale at the Gap without so much as going in or even pining much, and then I went to Dix and bought myself an IPA and a Red Truck Ale and a very nice man heard me out and bought me a conciliatory Red Truck as well, although believe me, when I’m on a vegan diet it doesn’t take much to get me quite entertainingly loopy and I was, and then we talked about El Alamein and Monte Cassino and Ypres and many similarly cheerful topics dating from before we were both born.
And then I came home, thought about working out, thought ah, fuckit tonight because, really, how often can anyone, even me, have a day like this, and decided to work my aggro out watching V for Vendetta yet again. If I’m still aggro-acious in a few hours, I’ll suck down a coffee and go out for a run.
starring Donald Murphy, Felix Locher, and Sandra Knight
raincoaster 