take it outside


Monday, March 28, 2005

So you hate the Duvet part of the laundry process. Let me help you. I may be retarded, but I just figured this out and had to share. Forgive me, I'm so so tired.
Step 1: Lay the duvet cover inside out with the bottom facing you. Stick your arms inside it.
Step 2: Poke your arms all the way inside to the furthermost corners. These will eventually end up being at the head of the bed. (No buttons at the top this way.)
Step 3: Grab and hold the duvet corners from the inside of the cover's corners. Hold on tight.
Step 4: Grab the concentric sets of corners from the exterior, thereby turning the duvet cover rightside out, as you flip it.
Step 5: While still holding the corners, stand on the bed and shake the duvet cover down over the duvet. It will be evenly distributed this way.
Sleepy sleep baby sheep, and dream of your beloved zombies, and dead pets.

Sunday, March 27, 2005

Save a horse, ride a Cowgirl.
Brandy and I (seen here after the 40 of rum) went to Trenton Ontario for Easter dinner. It turned out to be a really good time, much fun had by all. I was happy to be an adopted member of her family, and bartender. We all went to Presquille after dinner and played on the beach picked up some great pebbles, played frisbee, flew kites, etc etc. Later, after dessert, I got my ass kicked all over the place by her family at cards. Her gran can pull aces out of nowhere. I spent some quality time with her niece and nephew, and taught them a thing or two about pouring the perfect beer, and mixing simple drinks. Hot tubbed utnil the wee hours, it was all good.
Cheers to you and yours!

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Girl Goal of the Year--Accomplished!

Firefox and Netscape were formatting ok, but apparently the fonts I was using in my earlier CSI post were what was causing the problem in Explorer. Fix-Fix! It looks craptacular now, but it'll do. If everyone would only switch to Firefox, I could stop worrying about it. Until then I must respect people's rights to use crappy browsers, and figure out how to write effectively without using italics.

I had this goal to learn how to walk in smokin' stiletto heals. As of tonight, I can check that one off the list. I walked 2 blocks to dinner tonight, (thsuper cool to see Neil down this way,) and have the enormous blister to back me up. Please note: all that shit behind me, yes you do see every system known to man; they're not mine. As i've said, I'm more of a book nerd than...well maybe...tools... and uh, robots... but the only video game I've played recently is Katamari Damacy, which I highly recommend. Personally I'd rather put that kind of money into a plasma cutter. Damn, now that is sexy.

Good news: the whole reason I have these delectable daggers to don is due to the siren call of rock. Finally, the last CD I ordered has arrived. The music shop called me, and drew me in, and I spotted the spikey beauties along the way. Now all I have to do is spend countless hours trying to figure out how hard my rock is, whether there's going to be a gentle prelude, any respite, or just hammer it all the way, untill you feel it. Feel it in your chest, blow out your speakers, and get kicked out of your apartment. Can I get ah "HELL YEAH!"?

...rolling your own...no one to take home...
like you got no soul... ain't got no...
heal you warn you hold you warm you
It's all I got
but it's what I got
and I got it bad...

Monday, March 14, 2005

Fuck You--It's the Forensics-Off!
I actually thought up a lyrical poem about these two comforting fellows, while laying on the couch hunting for more CSI. So tired, so very very tired. Something along the lines of Grissom was here first, with his catchy one liners. He needs a hug, but don't put up with whiners.
Basically the point is that I've now accepted CSI: Miami and David Caruso as Horatio Caine, grudgingly, into what passes for the sometimes loosely "forensic" story telling in my TV viewing. He needs moisturizer, but he's all right. I believe him when he says he'll get you. Clearly a win-win situation when you find two back to back episodes that you haven't seen.
"Mac" Taylor on CSI: NY doesn't quite live up to the sly cheese you've come to expect from Grissom, or the drawling dryness of Caine, but the worst essence of both. I don't trust him. "Bring a spatula." Indeed. The best part of that script is that the investigator acually brought one, and proceeded to use it. Yes yes, to pry up a flattened body.
To Gary Sinise: The year is 2035, and you are an astronaut. You and three other astronauts must travel to Mars, dodge asteroids, and experience high G-force!

Sunday, March 13, 2005

Tip of the hat to Pete for some of his tone.

I used the word irregardless in an email as a joke, while poking fun at someone. Nobody found it funny, or even noticed it. Here's why they should have:

"Irregardless is a word that many mistakenly believe to be correct usage in formal style, when in fact it is used chiefly in nonstandard speech or casual writing. Coined in the United States in the early 20th century, it has met with a blizzard of condemnation for being an improper yoking of irrespective and regardless and for the logical absurdity of combining the negative ir- prefix and -less suffix in a single term." [It has been considered a blunder for decades and will probably continue to be so, although one might reasonably argue that it is no different from words with redundant affixes...] (sic.)1

"...like debone, and unravel." I finished, while scrubbing the one remaining plate in the sink. I'm a bad person because I generally don't fill the sink, but let the water run, as I wash and rinse.

"Sort of like flammable/inflammable." I add helpfully.

"But can you ever really bone something?" David says, pausing to absorb my level brow.

I think this is the part of the story where I called him a Chinaman and asked him where he learned Engerish. He then showed me where he learned it, which was the place where he was also taught to punch ladies in their bellies. 2

Then, Dave and Pam came upstairs, and I informed Dave that I need his expert assistance in choosing the arch top guitar of my dreams; because, should I ever become rich 3, I would need to know which of these beauties to pose beside. (If I could decide, I would post the links for you. They're so beautiful.) If Dave had hands they'd be shaped like guitars. His current hands are busy playing WoW.

"Do they have a maker?" He asked. I squirmed.

"Well uh, none of the big brands like I'd know, like Fender," Dave looked at me some more, " Or Fender," I say, after an uncomfortable pause. "Not that I'm well versed, being a...the...is the word...where's the word...neo-phyte." (Ah Keanu, bringing it on home for me again, like sweet, sweet candy.)

"That works. You could also use plebe, catechuman, greenhorn..." Dave supplied agreeably, showing off his degree in rhetoric.

"Don't forget philistine!" David exclaimed from the kitchen. (No, this was where I called him a Chinaman and the tummy punching ensued. Tactfully, Dave and Pam decided this was the best time to leave.

David does need better self esteem, but I only let David have the upper hand for show. You want to know why he never talks? Because his jaw's been wired shut on account o' all that punching him in the face I do.4

Sho' you heard me right, "I'm the boss of the hotsauce."5

1. Dictionary.Com: " Although one might reasonably argue that it is no different from words with redundant affixes like debone and unravel, it has been considered a blunder for decades and will probably continue to be so. " Orig.
2.This place is apparently Ireland, and full of Chinamen.
3.The average starting price is upwards of $4,500USD. If only I had $17,000USD for the really nice one.
4.This never happens. David and I only express our affection for one another by purchasing too much Life cereal.
5. "The Boss Lady," Davis Jones as covered by The Detroit Cobras' album: Life, Love and Leaving.

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

I should probably take the time a make a "sleepless" blog; to tell the stories, the ramblings, and musings that come into my head while i watch my fingers on the keys...thinking that it's time to go to bed and wishing i could find another crossword to do. I thought that it was time to got to bed at 2:30 as well, and that went perfectly as you can see. It would probably be good to separate these types of thoughts from the day to day blog updates and commentary on things that aren't going bump in the night, but oh well:

I'm trying to take breaks from my sleeping pills becasue they impact rather unglamourous parts of my life negatively. I also tend to get incredibly tired at about 9pm, but don't go to sleep, because I don't want to get up at 5am. (ah irony.) I tend to re-think both of those ideas right around this time of night, and would probably sleep through my afternoon class if i took my pills now. I do get the nights where i go to bed believing in what i feel, and everything lines up and makes sense, and i fall alseep after taking the time to savour that novelty. I don't know what personal hurdles i'm going to have to climb over to get those particular nights to be the regular pattern, and relinquish the rattled, confused, mind racing nights, (where i try to imagine rationalizing my actions and feelings so as to be understandable to the people in my life,) to the waste bin of my subconscious.

The thing is, subjective experiences such as reality are completely relative. So even if i can make things make sense to myself, and get back to backing my decisions 100%, i still have to deal with all the shit from other people potentially rejecting what i have to say and feel, or worse, disagreeing with me about how I feel about things. I say screw that--right now, while i'm not trying to sleep and supporting myself emotionally to do what's right for me--but try telling that to my brain when it hits the pillow... I also try that sneaky yoga technique, where you tell yourself that it's ok not to worry about things and go to sleep, because all that garbage that's bugging you will still be there when you open your eyes again.

Try, try, and try again.

Monday, March 07, 2005

The Worldwide TIO Exclusive

Who's ready to ask the hard questions, selflessly explore uncharted territory, take the risks that no one else is willing to? That's right, Take It Outside is here for you. And I've got the skinny on the most asked question of this year:

ALP: Diet Pepsi Twist, Do you taste better before or after, what must have been a horrible, painful ordeal to you? I realize this must be hard for you, take your time, please.

DPT: (sniffling noisely) I even have a new improved taste as you can see in the picture. I just want to be loved, I change everything for them and look what they made me do. I hate myself so much.

ALP: I understand this must be so difficult for you to talk about, the past 2 years of being the new kid on the block, being almost universally maligned, having your self respect undermined by every cola around you, but I really must know, you owe it to the people watching your story unfold; do you taste better?

DPT: No. They tell me, no. (quietly sobbing)

Diet Pepsi Twist seen here, been torturously processed through a Brita filter, one dark night during March.

Friday, March 04, 2005

I hate this. I am prone to crying and it certainly doesn't help any.
Judit sent me an xls fwd entitled "Found an ideal job for you!" And it made me laugh; the irony, the pure co-incidence, the... the... stupidness of it, it cheered me up right good. I put in my usual moniker and came up as a suicide bomber, i put in the name i've been thinking about starting to use, that came out jungle explorer. I entered many of my friends names, and had a good laugh at their expense as well.

But i don't want to be a suicide bomber. Even though it seems, emotionally, that is exactly what i am.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

There's so much snow that I have no place left to put it. I've shovelled 5 times in the last two days, and it's still snowing. I LIKE to shovel snow, because it's great to get outside and work. I'm very out of shape, and it makes me feel good to do something, instead of _trying_ to do something monotonous like the eliptical trainer. From the perspective of a country girl, going to a gym makes me feel like it's vanity muscle that i'm getting, not real muscles from working. this sounds weird i guess, if you're city bred and need gyms to get exercise, but maybe you'll understand. So, while some people are off playing in the sun, on beaches, i'm here gloating over my finished taxes, (already in the mail,) and my enourmous pile of snow.