M

I am off to a weekend with the family!

(I rented a bike so that I can actually relax)

OK, blogosphere, I'm gonna level with ya.

Things, they aren't going so well for me right now. I'm in a spot of bad luck with a layer of crunchy bad decisions and peppered with colourful sprinkles of the end of sanity. Job problems, money problems, health problems, people problems. I don't intend to turn into a whiny blogger, but I just wanted to let you know; if I'm lacking in the good-read department, it's because I've got some stuff going on right now.

That said, I sifted through my archives and found a few entries that I thought were good. So here they are. Read them instead.

Smashy McBangBang

Reality TV Show Ideas

Superpowers I Want

The Power Ballad

And if you want to know the latest addition to my bad run of things, keep reading.

Right Now.

It came like a smack in the face. From ten people. At once. I walked into the bar, and they all turned around. There I was, faced with a table full of people who I was wrong about. I thought they were my friends. I had called them. "We'll have to get together for a beer!" They said. "Wouldn't it be fun to get everyone together? Like old times!" And there they were. Getting together for a beer.  Like old times. All of them. The call had come from the two who had been on vacation for three weeks, and had enough going on that forgetting me would have been more than fogivable. I wanted to be pissed off, I wanted to storm out, but I couldn't. I was just hurt. "Was anyone going to tell me about this little gathering?" I choked out. "oh, it was last minute," came the chorus. "I didn't find out til this afternoon." "Me either." I'm pretty sure I checked my email and didn't drop my cell phone in the toilet. So I'm off the radar, I guess. There were definately faces I was glad to see, for sure. It wasn't all bad. But I couldn't shake the feeling, intentional or not, that I was getting burned.

But.

I do have some amazing friends, I do. And it's turning out that they're not always the ones I necessarily expected.

I've been blessed with an uncompromising supporter since high school, who has grown and changed with me, and whenever I have one of these moments says "they don't deserve you!" or "she's an idiot!" and reassures me that sometimes, people just suck. And will screech along to "Layla" with me.  She's pickin' up what I'm puttin' down. She's smellin' what I'm steppin' in. 

I have parents who go above and beyond the call of duty of parenthood (sometimes driving me nuts), but that make me feel safe because whenever I get in trouble, they're halfway through booking tickets on the next flight, or what they can do to make it go away. They tell me they're proud even though they have no idea what I do.

I have a roommate, purely by chance, and following a string of bad living experiences, who deals with the fact that I am a messy insane vegetarian who tracks mud in on the nice clean floor. She listens to my never-ending whining, calls the cable company for me, and tells me that I should keep the too-tight t-shirts that I ordered.

I have a friend whose doorstep I show up on, unannounced, spandex-clad and cold, and he feeds me and tells me my ass looks good.

I have a friend in England who I miss dearly and who I am convinced will singlehandedly save the world (and will still watch Alias while doing so), and will always be human and send me poo stories when she's living in these crazy places and doing and eating crazy things and meeting crazy people. And even though she's saving the world, I selfishly wish she still lived down the block and I could call her for a cup of coffee.

I have two friends from my hometown; we've all gone our separate ways and now are scattered all over the eastern seaboard, but whenever we talk it's like home. (It always comes back to the gremlins in the woods.)

I have two unviersity roommates who survived me, despite the fact that I am a completely impossible person to live with.  I occasionally would do things like come home shitfaced at 8pm, eat a pile of chocolage and pass out on the floor.  During finals.  And now, despite hours of separation, these are lifelong friends who I know I'll never lose.  (And leaving cheese on N's pillow was still funny)

There's the friend who is now boyfriend-of-old-roommate, who is a co-founder of the Big Head Fat Kids Dumbhead club (we have a handshake!), and is willing to come on 3am cheese-pizza missions with me when it's -40 out and his girlfriend is waiting at home.

There's a friend who I can't even keep track of (Colorado? San Diego?) who remembers my birthday, without fail, every year. And there's the one who lived in a van for a year, windsurfing, and disappears into the woods for months at a time, but I know we're friends for life, so I don't need to check in that often. There's the friend who is somewhere in Southeast Asia, who writes when she can, and I miss, but I also know she's coming back. I have riding buddies who let me suck their wheels for hours at a time and wait for me when I get dropped and deal with me when I bitch and spit and cry (as is the tradition at the end of any race). And there's the one who always comes to my parties, and slow dances with my married friends to Phil Collins.  And countless others, who go for coffee and beers, and deal with me, and love me.  And I love them more than they'll ever know.  Because I'm not going to get all schmoopy and shit.

There are a lot of fantastic, good people in my life, and I have a lot to be grateful for, and now I'm getting a bit teared up here in my cube. Very bloody professional. So sometimes, I guess, one (being me) must just let the past go and realize how incredibly lucky she is.

And that sometimes, Van Halen was right. Right now, it's your tomorrow. Right now, it's everything.

Last night was the Pride parade. Very odd, to have it on a Monday night (usually it's Sunday afternoon), but as always it was the colourful chorus of drag queens in their costumed sheen, combat-boot wearin' militant-type lesbians, the Gay Pilots association, at least ten different groups making points about civil union and the right to marraige, people collecting money for AIDS research, an advocacy group for demystifying homosexuality in the public school system, and the smattering of randoms that always grace this particular event. There was one group, whose sign I missed, that consisted of 4 girls doing highland dancing (barefoot on the cement no less, OUCH) while two drag queens played bagpipes. I still have no idea who they were. Queer McGill was there. (I have to admit, I've never been a fan. First of all, Montreal has got to be the most liberal city in North America. There really isn't much to protest about. But if you're going to protest, must you do it in the middle of my exams? Because that's just disrespectful.) I'm sure the Raliens were there, but I was gone by then (last year it was a large group of people in varying stages of undress... including one very large women gracing us all with her... talents? Tracts of land? ew). I do have to hand it to Montreal, to line both sides of a street 6 people deep on a Monday night... it's amazing the support this city shows. Thousands of people come out for this event, and most of them aren't even gay. It's as if gay pride has finally taken on the meaning it was supposed to, a celebration of culture rather than a defiant stance against bigotry.

Then I heard some rather good news, Heidi and Alex have finally bitten the big one and gotten engaged! Yay! On asking her father: "Just because we hugged doesn't mean we can't lay pipe and shit." On her mother's reacation "fuck! fuck! fuck!" On telling her little cousin "...and I said 'Tasha, Alex and I got engaged' and then she hugged me with the pee bucket."

*Rant (not about H&A) deleted because, frankly, it's not good readin'.*

Suffice to say, I need to get out of Montreal.  Yesterday.

new estimate on the Jetta scratch: $250.00

much better.

I had a fairly normal weekend, by my standards. Friday I was exhausted from a week of shitty money issues (only to be redoubled last night, but we'll leave that story for another time), so I was very close to just sacking out on the couch and watching the Tour by myself and going to bed. But I dragged myself out the door and to a friend's place to watch it with other people. We then went out to a bar (one of my old stomping grounds) where I discovered two things. 1) I am old. Though I'm only 24, I was pretty well asleep at the table by 12:30. 2) I can't tolerate smoke anymore. It's foul and makes me sick. 3) I also can't tolerate alcohol anymore. Two beers and I'm giggling like a schoolgirl with a dirty magazine. Did I say two things? I ment three.

Saturday I got to sleep. Sleep, blessed sleep. Oh, you are so drastically underrated. Dragged myself out of bed and to breakfast and a perusal of the sales on St Denis. Saturday afternoon I went out to Bromont to ride with some friends who just moved out there. They've got a great little (tiny) basement apartment about 50 meters from the trails. Not fair! Four of us went riding. We took it super easy, joked around and talked the whole way; I'm definately extremely out of shape and still not 100% where the lungs are concerned, but I can't take it anymore, so up the mountain I went. Anyway, it was fun to just roll at an easy pace for a while. I realized that I don't really have any friends who just want to ride casually and for the fun of it; most of my riding buddies are either naturally in superhuman shape so I have to kill myself to keep up with them, or are crazy racers who are always pushing it to the limits. And I have to kill myself to keep up with them, too. It was good times to just go out and not be competitive and roll around and enjoy the view from the top. Besides their little apartment, my friends out there have this ginormous dog, Miles (as in Miles Davis) who reawoke my deep-seeded love for dogs. He's a year and three months old, so fully grown with a puppy-like demeanor, and about 2.5' at the shoulder, and he's the friendliest dog ever. You can just see he's thinking "HI! Who are you? You smell different. You're a new person. I like new people. Are you going to play with me? You are?! Oh, yay! We're gonna be best friends for ever and ever and ever! Look at me! I love you I love you I love you I love you I do! You're the best! Wanna wrestle? You do?! Oh, boy! Yay!" I really do love dogs. There's a certain special bonding when the dog doesn't know anything about you other than the fact that you feed it and love it, and it loves you unconditionally in return. They're not finicky and bitchy like cats. They're just big, slobbery, piles of love. They're the always-ready running buddy or TV-watchin' friend. I need to move out of the city and get a giant friendly dog. Maybe I'll name my dog Monkey. Then I'll get a monkey and name it Dog. It would be my big joke on the world.

Sunday I dragged myself out of bed for a 100k ride, my first since my mysterious lung illness. It went OK; I let myself get dropped a few times, because I knew pushing out the sprints would result in me not being able to finish the ride. I was really, really wiped out by the time I got home, but I finished, and (I think) with minimal bitching, so all in all not bad

**M's attempt at a brief Tour wrap-up**

I got home in time for the final stage of the Tour (I unfortunately screwed up taping Saturday's stage). Oh, did I ever jump up and down and squeal when Vinokourov won.

How can you not love this guy?

Holy, was that ever a great finish. That guy rules. I like him, because he keeps pushing. He keeps coming back, he doesn't give up, and he won yesterday despite being on a team full of selfish assclowns.  I like Basso because he's just likable. I like Valverde because he beat Armstrong.  I like Robbie MacEwan because he is an unapologetic cocky bastard. Next year is going to be a hell of a race, and I wish it were starting right bloody now. As to Armstrong... hats off to his seven Tour victories. But, as to him being the bestest ever, take it from someone who knows.

**end of the section with way way too many hyperlinks**

Currently in the works for tomorrow's blog: TEAM is MEAT backwards. And rearranged. Discuss.

I wrote a long rant about this whole car-scratch incident, but I've ultimately decided; this is not worth my time/energy. I'm going to tell the guy he can deal with insurance today. *aah* I feel better. Oh, and I learned something about myself through this whole fiasco. I only want advice if it's going to reconfirm what I've already decided.

Christa's blog linked me to a "what kind of yarn are you" quiz. Now, I'm not a knitter. Hell, I'm about as domestic as an untrained monkey. Or a pirate monkey! (OK, just for the record, I don't poop in the corner of my cage, I do use the washroom.) But I thought I'd give it a shot. After a few generic questions, I came back as "mercerized cotton." (I had to look up "mercerized." Something about treating yarn with caustic soda to make it more receptive to dye and shiny.) Apparantly, I am "...always very crisp and neat. You are very playful and are happiest while outdoors in the sunshine. You are sometimes accused of splitting hairs, but in the end people find you pretty easy to live with." Happiest while outdoors in the sunshine, definately, but crisp, neat, and easy to live with? Wow, that's off. I am, by far, the messiest girl I know. I take most of the guys I know to school on the messy bus. My cube looks like a bomb hit it. I lose stuff all the time. I keep mud-covered bikes in my room. And easy to live with? I think those that have/do will plead the opposite. I mean, I did throw the phone at my first roommate when her mom called her to wish her a happy birthday at 7am. And I don't mean "tossed it to her," I mean threw it at her. At her head, I think. Good thing I throw like a girl.

I got a phone call yesterday, while I was taking a nap. I didn't recognize the number, so I cursed and rolled over. Damn good thing I didn't answer. Because any of you who have ever woken me up know that I am a cloven-hooved beast when my slumber is disturbed. When I woke up of my own accord twenty minutes later and checked my messages, it was a very excited man from a placement agency.

In Tucson.

I don't know much about Arizona. And I definately don't know anyone who lives there. So, can I leave everything behind and trapse off to Tucson, AZ for a six-month contract? That remains to be seen. Montreal was never supposed to be permanent, and I've been fed up with it for a long time, but I had kind of decided it was going to be Seattle. Or Boston. Or San Francisco. But Tucson is going to be hot. And the people are going to be totally different (might be nice to be in an English/Spanish area instead of a French/English one, so I can actually communicate, though). It's a red state. And I really liked the idea of Seattle. Anyway, we'll see. I missed about two minutes of what he was saying, because a pigeon pooped directly on the cat, and it was taking all my energy not to crack up.

I do badly need a change of scenery, though.

update.

estimate: $653.88.

for this:

FUCK.

update #2:

"Hi Mary, I get a another appointment tonight to see if I can have a better price but I can’t guarantee anything"

Victory will be mine...

1) Got out of bed (no small feat).

2) Went and stood in line for Quebec medicare.

3) Hit parked car in parking lot on arrival at work.

Seems like today is shaping up nicely.

Currently, I'm job hunting. The next step is probably the interview process, which I'm a little out of practice with; I interviewed for this job in early December. So, I thought I'd brush up on some standard questions and formulate responses, so I checked out monster.com's interview question generator.  But the sarcastic side of me just can't be suppressed. Hopefully, I can just get this out in one fell swoop and be done with it.

What is your greatest weakness?  You know, I've never really liked that whole "working" thing.

How would you go about establishing your credibility quickly with the team?  Well, I've learned that my cash pay-offs are usually a crowd favourite.

What do you think of your previous boss?  That bastard... he'll never find his car.

How many quarters one on top of another would it take to reach the moon?  Hm, I don't know... six?

Do you have children? If so, how will you handle daycare?  Little brats can fend for themselves once in a while. Damn breast milk isn't free.

If you were at a business lunch and you ordered a rare steak, and they brought it to you well done, what would you do?  Well, I'd stand up, calmly grab that smarmy waiter by the lapels, shake him, and say "look here, buddy, did I ask for it freakin' Cajun? Did I? Did I? No. I didn't think so." Then, I'd probably take him out back with my boys and beat the hell out of him.

Tell me about yourself.  Well, I'm 33, female. I like long walks on the beach and dinners in, and I particularly like it when you kiss my neck... The biological clock is ticking, so I'm looking to settle down, have a house and a family, and start my life with someone special.

What's your salary history?  *snort* Let me tell ya, the money in porn is not what it's cracked up to be.

Tell me about a time you had to deal with a conflict on the job.  A few years ago, I was working with this guy who kept asking me to "do my job" and stuff. So I framed him for robbing a liquor store. That sure solved that one.

What can you do for us that other candidates can't?  I bet you don't have anyone who can put their entire foot in their mouth. Really! You don't believe me? Check this out....

What are you most proud of?  The fact I've had four marketing jobs, and I don't even know how to read! What do you think of that?!