I'm sure you're all wondering why I've suddenly disappeared off the face of the blogosphere. Well, turns out that when I hooked up this weekend I got more than just laid. I haven't been this sick in quite a long time. Seems like a high price to pay for sex.
So I missed work today. Really, I should've called in Tuesday and Wednesday too, but for some reason I felt so damn guilty even though I was actually sick. It's not because I'm particularly honest. Hell, at the bank I never used sick days when I was sick. If I was already miserable I might as well be at work, right? Why waste a sick day on being sick?
The thing is, my boss wouldn't care if I called in sick. She's so laid back that for some reason I don't want to take advantage of that. Even when I'm sick as a dog. It's kind of perverse really. I mean even if I weren't sick, we know everybody uses sick days as a sort of personal day, right? It's an unspoken agreement. Sometimes we just need a rest. Hell, I don't qualify for vacation until November people.
By the way, walk-in clinics suck. I really enjoyed my 3.5 minutes with the doctor. Way to earn your $200, ass-wipe. Makes me miss the smarmy British doctor from my hometown. At least he'd make a little small-talk first.
But in a way this is sort of a blessing. When you're sick, all your other problems seem smaller, less important, and entirely surmountable. Health is something you don't really appreciate until it's gone, and once it's back everything else is just gravy.
On the other hand, this happened literally seven days before my drug plan kicks in. You win this round, god!
I've lived in a lot of different places in my 24 years, and I can tell you that despite what many people say, Ottawa's not half bad. It does tend toward the conservative in many ways, but it has a very nice downtown, not too too expensive rent and is moderately friendly. The amenities are pretty good too. Lots of museums and cultural things.
But sometimes to get the really good stuff you just have to come to the big city:
Where else in Canada can you be a short walk away from a thetan test? It's as if L. Ron Hubbard blessed the city himself.
Oh how I adore Toronto, where even the fleeting desires of celebrity whack jobs are tended to at every opportunity. The tourism marketing practically writes itself.
So I was taking a look at the site stats today, as I often do, when I noticed a couple of anomalies. Normally my visitors are about 70% Windows 2003/XP and 30% Mac OS X. However, this time I was excited to see a Linux user. While I do the iBook thing I've been a big fan of Linux for a while now. But something else wasn't quite right.
Windows Me. One of my visitors was running Windows Me.
You don't have to be a tech guru to know that Me was, by far, the most horrific Windows version ever to spew from the code-developing bowels of Microsoft. Me was coming pre-installed on computers when I started first year university, so of course that's what everyone had, and it was a freaking nightmare. Non-stop problems.
You know that "clunk" sound old monitors make when they change resolutions or turn on? They make that when Windows blue screens too. One friend of mine was actually terrified of the sound, to the point that she jumped when she heard it, because Me crashed so much. Now she'll forever associate it with lost documents and wasted time. They didn't nickname it Windows Mistake Edition for nothing.
Anyways the bottom line is: if you're browsing this site with Windows Me, you're going to be seeing a lot of this:
If you are this poor Georgia soul I want to help you. I swear, give me the money and I'll catch a Greyhound over there and install Windows 2000 on your computer. Hell, even better, me and my Linux buddy will mail you a Linux CD and walk you through the setup. With my help you'll be able to think of blue without trembling in fear!
Truth in marketing is tough to find these days. When they're not outright lying to you they're either stretching the truth, exaggerating, or glazing over the bad spots. But don't worry, our good friends at Equality are on our side with...process cheese product.
That's right. I was at my local grocery store the other day and had a hunkering for Cheese Whiz. Being a starving wannabe student I went straight for the generic, most honestly named product I have ever encountered. I can just imagine the meeting where they finalized the name for this thing. Somewhere out there a high-paid exec thinks this was a great idea. Right off the top of my head I can think of four snappier names:
- Cheese Zip
- Cheesetastic!
- Cheese Louise
- Cheesus Christ
Deep down, I hope this is the start of a new trend. After all, wouldn't it be easier to shop for a car if one of the options was a Ford Crapbox? Would you still go to McDonald's if they named the Big Mac the Artery Sludge?
Consumer advocacy groups should really be pushing for stuff like this. After all, if companies refuse to give things that are bad for us disgusting names, how can we be expected to make the right choices?
PS The other shocking thing about this product: the first ingredient is actually cheese, and it's not spelled with a "z"!
Those of you who've known me for a few years know I have a habit of occasionally going over the line. Pretty much every close friend I've ever had has been mega-pissed at me at some point for taking a joke too far. The funny thing is, I never see it coming until that look of rage washes over their visage.
So that's why I was surprised to get a Facebook message from an old aquiantance about one of my posts. Before I quote him, take a look at what I wrote.
At the time, I didn't think much of it at all. I was too busy trying to be clever and witty. Now, here's what my acquaintance had to say:
Now, speaking as a fat ass (though not one who has been to the gym in a while), I feel I must explain. Anyone with a 40+ waist is not oblivious to our disgustingness, but we do enjoy forgetting about it for a while. Lifting weights is a nice form of exercise to get people moving and strength-building. Cardio is essential, yes, but if you have a 40+ waist it is going to sloshing around in a frightening way and drawing even more attention to ourselves (which is even worse if the eyes looking at us are attractive guys and girls). Plus, if your a fast ass, it's damn uncomfortable to have your girth slapping around. Imagine getting on a running machine carrying two or three sacks of potatoes inside your clothes that have been mashed. It's not fun. And it kills your joints.First of all, he gets kudos for saying his part with a degree of tact that I often lack. You can tell he's spent some time in journalism school, that's for sure.
My fat ass gets about 2 hours of cardio through walking every day (that's not counting walking around to get places and errands - it's a 2 hour dedicated walk), but I've still got a 40+ waist. I have excellent blood pressure and circulation, but I simply eat too much to loose weight.
Yes, we allowed ourselves to get this size, but at least this fat ass is in a gym and not at McDonalds.
Have a little sympathy and compassion for the fat ass. It's not easy bringing youself into a space with fit people all around, and their disapproving glances do nothing to encourage us. If being fit was a prerequisite for going to a gym, they should do us all a favour and tell us so.
If there's something I am definitely guilty of, it's that I didn't even consider how my post would make an overweight person feel. And if I'm going to write something that might hurt other people, I should at least put some thought into it first.
Now as for whether it's practical for an overweight person to do cardio, there are elliptical machines and exercise bikes that will take it easy on the joints. I guess what I was trying to get across was that if you're going to put all that time into self-improvement, why not take the route that would bring the most benefit? Of course, if I'd phrased it like that I wouldn't be in this predicament. So while I stand by the point I was trying to make, I am prepared to publicly apologize for the way I said it, especially the "disgustingness" remark.
So, my seven or so daily readers, what do you think? Did I cross the line? Was this apology enough or should I have repented the whole thing?
One more sign of the apocalypse:
Sleep medicine experts have successfully treated a rare case of a woman having sex with strangers while sleepwalking.There are a few VERY IMPORTANT questions that come to mind:
The behaviour had disrupted the lives of the woman and her partner. At night while asleep, the middle-aged sleepwalker - who lives in Australia and cannot be identified for reasons of confidentiality - left her house and had sexual intercourse with strangers. The behaviour continued for several months and the woman had no memory of her nocturnal activities.
Circumstantial evidence, such as condoms found scattered around the house, alerted the couple to the problem. On one occasion, her partner awoke to find her missing, went searching for her and found her engaged in the sex act.
- Who were the guys she was sleeping with?
- How did she seduce them in her sleep?
- Perhaps most importantly, did they know she was asleep?
Quite frankly the journalist's job is to anticipate the kind of questions that the reader is going to ask, and I'm very disappointed that the writer failed to include these tawdry details. I know that people who are sleepwalking can appear to be conscious and even carry on a conversation, but they don't talk about this at all. I'd really like to know more about what the hell was going on.On a brighter note, it is encouraging that even while sleepwalking she was smart enough to use a condom! You know your safe sex campaign is successful when people practice it even when they're unconscious.
Anyways, if I had to do something in my sleep I'd take sex over eating or murdering any day. Still, it sort of takes the Coyote Ugly thing to a whole new level, doesn't it?
So for the first time since the summer I now have a permanent place to hang my hat. As a bonus, my rent is cheaper than it was in Ottawa and I get to wake up to this view:
Of course this all comes at a price.
I have to share the apartment with two other people. Not just any people, but strangers I met off of craigslist. This is moderately terrifying as I've never done the move-in-with strangers-thing before. The live-with-a-close-friend-thing and the-live-with-your-boyfriend things went pretty well, but needless to say it's a pretty big risk.
The thing is, they seem kind of...innocent. Which is good, in a way. They'll keep me out of trouble. I do wonder how they'll react when they find out where I'm going this weekend, though.
Oh and I also live in the most densely populated neighborhood in the country. Yes, lovely St. Jamestown with over 25,000 people in a square mile. Some people call it an urban planning nightmare. I'm going to be calling it home. Still, I have to admit, the collection of 30+ story buildings is more than a little Orwellian.
People warned me about living here. They said it was unsafe, and so forth. But those of you who've known me a long time know that this is far from my first time living in sketchy surroundings. Hell, based on what I've seen so far it's not even that bad. And budget living in Toronto requires sacrifices.
Of course it's not perfect. The elevator is essentially an unfunny clown car, where you have to squish your way in if you have any hope of getting anywhere. And just when you think it's completely full, someone new will squeeze their way on at the next stop. While moving one woman informed me that if I waited for an elevator with room to breathe I'd be waiting all day.
But I'm reserving judgment for now. It remains to be seen whether this neighbourhood is as bad as it's made out to be. My craigslist buddies don't seem to scared so I'm cautiously optimistic. The location is good, the rent is great, the view is unbeatable and I have a kitchen sink. Let it never be said that I lack optimism!
