Thursday, 25 August 2011


     Long time no post.  I returned in the beginning of the week from another relaxing holiday.  I didn't get as much drawing done as I had anticipated; ironically enough, I'm really private when it comes to the act of drawing, like performance anxiety.  I was surround by family most of this trip and only had 3 solid nights of hermit times.
     I was also a little caught up in a show.  I had one week to watch all 54 episodes of the first season of Digimon.  It was a personal journey of self improvement.  I pounded some Mike's Hard Margaritas and hunkered down in the sleeping cabin for my solo Digi-fest.  Turns out you can cut a 20 minute episode down almost by half if you skip the digivoloution sequences.  I managed to get though 24 episodes that night.  I don't know if it was the Mike's, but man, that show is such an emotional roller coaster. 
     On a semi-unrelated note, here's a new fun segment that should really appear as a solo post: Adventures with Mummy.
    As you can see, I am really good at strait lines.  Also that my mum and I have some of the most stimulating conversations ever.  My family has a lot of strange lingo exclusive to our lineage which confuses friends and innocent bystanders.
     I'm pretty busy with preparations for school, and a guaranteed-to-be-comical camping trip over the next week, but I promise I will have my Jersey Shore meets Harry Potter dream inked soon.

Sunday, 14 August 2011


     On Wednesday, Caitlin and I went to see our very first 19+ show because we are responsible grown-ups now and can do these things.  We had the privilege of seeing Beirut at the fabulous Commodore Ballroom.  it was a killer show, well worth the years of waiting for them to come to Canada.  Before we qued up in the ticket holders' line, we poked around for a bit, bought some clothes, what evs, the usual; except for the camera crew and vaguely familiar, very short group of guys on the street corner talking to random passers by.
     After running away from the Asian guy with a clip board accosting us to "COME JOIN US", we headed for the line up.  After an antsy wait, we finally got inside the venue we've been dreaming of since childhood.  The interior of the Commodore looks like something out of The Mask, and not the scary one with Cher and her deformed son.

     After giving our hard earned money to the barkeep, we settled onto extremely tall bar stools and surveyed the building for architectural details and other such refined things.  I have never seen so many hipsters in one place.  It was a little horrifying.  
     I spotted something worth investigating. 
     However, I was quickly thrown into INDIGNANT CARI MODE, signature eye twitching, partially audible swearing under my breath, various limb tensing and flailing and all.
     Don't get me wrong, I'm all for finding inner beauty, acceptance, and all that crap, but seriously?  Yes, I can admit I am in spinster mode.  Spinster mode, for those who are unaware of this fantastic state of mind, is when a girl behaves like the middle aged aunt that never got married and works in a job she hates and her 26 year old niece just got married and she beats rugs with a broom  in her front yard whilst thinking about her high school boyfriend that stood her up on Valentine's day and she curses loud enough for the neighbours to hear and everyone fears her unpredictable wrath fuelled by a hatred of other people's romance. Anyway, I just find this enigma so perplexing is all. 
     After a good fume, and an expensive but excellent margarita, I was able to continue with the festivities.  

Saturday, 13 August 2011


     It seems about time I made a logo, what with almost 700 views under my belt now(thanks guys!).  I'm just killing time before we spirit away to our cabin again where I can get more drawings done, but I am working on a fun, maybe even Jersey-tastic, post after a dream I had.
     So here you have it, some dreams, some adventure, some totally implausibleness:  Thing of Stuff.

Tuesday, 9 August 2011


     You know those Snickers commercials where 20-somethings turn into old people or angry old people when they're hungry?  I suffer from this affliction.  I often get a bit demonic for a variety of positive and not so positive reasons, but at work it's the worst because I still deliver excellent customer service; I just walk away with squinty, seething eyes of hell fire hatred. 
     One of the perks to my job is people often bringing in food to promote our bakeware department and cake decorating classes. 
     It depends on the day, but my fellow staff members never seem to eat the precious free treats.  I hold myself accountable for the generous person's feelings that brought the kind gesture, so people damn well better eat that shiet or nice people stop doing nice things without positive feedback.  Sometimes you gotta take matters into your own hands.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, when the food is free, I can eat like no other, but I need to be sure no one is watching.  Those cookies had been in the fridge for at least 2 days and no one had gone for them; they had icing for Christ's sake, even if they had fallen on the floor, I didn't know so it didn't matter(I'm occasionally a selective germaphobe).  The only problem, eating them before anyone else came in the break room.
               15 minutes to eat as many large sugar cookies as possible
                                                           Challenge accepted

Monday, 8 August 2011

Ya Dig?

     A few weeks ago, I watched all four seasons of The Wild Thornberrys and The Wild Thornberrys Movie in less than a week.  I don't know if I should be proud or ashamed, but I feel no remorse.  Of course, as anyone who watched this fantastic Nickelodeon cartoon would know, Nigel Thornberry is the best part of the show.  He was voiced by Tim Curry, and it is simply outrageous.  The writers must have sat around thinking about ways to make a show focused on a girl who can talk to animals with her magical powers EVEN BETTER.  "I know", said writer #3, "let's get Tim Curry to make the most hilarious noises and say stereotypical British saying while doing so".  Bless that person.
     So, some of you may have been turned on to the Feat. Nigel Thornberry meme, and know the wondrous additions he made to many of today's hit songs.  That meme may be dead, but it lives on forever in my heart and on my Ipod.  I have a habit of playing feat. Nigel's for my pals at totally unexpected moments.  Sadly, far more of my peers were not as devout watchers as I was as a child. 
     Speaking of watching eerie amounts of children's television, I somehow ended up watching  five hours of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic on Friday.
    Haters, it's by the same people that spawned Powerpuff Girls, so shut your face holes, it's awesome.  Some of my friends were aghast that I watched so much of one kid's show in one sitting, but I have an abundance of pillows now because I got rid of my couch, so I decided to make a pillow nest beneath my window.  Having a grounded sitting nook is wonderfully comfortable, safe, and peaceful.  It is perfect for extended viewing sessions.
     I love watching a series from the pilot to the very end.  I have a killer attention span and I don't waste time with shows not worth watching.  Hasbro knows their shit.  They gave us Transformers(the sick 80's cartoon, not Michael Bay's version consisting of a pubescent boy's wet dream), My Little Pony, and Pound Puppies.  Slipped that one in there...oh yes.  Anyway, I'm a sucker for nostalgia.  Cartoons, toys, and dressing them up is my main motivation to procreate.   
     Fun Fact: as of today, I have been single for only 7 months of my entire adult life (adult life consists of grade 10 till present, because kids start to slightly resemble functioning members of human society round that age).  It's funny, even if I was attached, I'd still be doing all the same things, like watching hours of children's programming and knitting till my fingers bleed.  Also I don't have an account on the My Little Pony website.  Who does that?  But seriously guys, does anyone know how many points you have to get before you earn your first Cutie mark?

Monday, 1 August 2011

A Gentle Reminder

     After almost a year, I tired my hand at driving again.  Aside from maxing out at a rousing 30Km/h, I thought I did pretty well.  I have yet to try driving in the city.  I've only practised on the deserted roads in the centre of the little island we vacation on.
     The middle of the island is flat and grassy.  The warm, dry, fire-hazardous grass is home to crickets, quails, mice, and bunnies.  I was surprised, and slightly relieved not to have spotted any lagomorphs playfully bounding around the island thus far on our journey, as bunnies are a little bit of a gut wrenching reminder of my recent ex's positive qualities.
      It's too damn bad they have to be so cute.  I got super stoked when a cluster of wild rabbits wanted to cross the road just ahead of my car.
     After watching one after another join their mates across the street, I was left with a distinct stabbing pain in my chest.  After a few mellow dramatic, hammed up sobs followed by maniacal laughter, I received a "what the hell is wrong with you now?" glare from my ever sympathetic mother.  Thankfully that put me back in the driving zone quickly.
     Earlier that day, I went into my favourite New Age store.  It offers scientifically viable services such as: angel readings, chakra readings, aura readings, and aroma therapy!  I like this hippie hut because back in the day when I had access to the equipment, I would buy gemstones for jewellery making.  I like it now because it confirms stereotypes and supplies me with decently priced Nepalese jewellery.
      Since I was a little girl, I have wanted tarot cards.  After a few months scouring the more colourful areas of Vancouver to no avail, I gave up on my dream.  As soon as I walked into the New Age store, I knew.  I asked the same dreamy looking clerk that's always there if she had tarot cards.  She pointed majestically to the far corner of the store.  The last, perfect, classic pack of cards was there on a stand, just for me.  It was fate.
     You see, dear reader, when one looks for their own deck of future divulging tarot cards, it is recommended their deck is picked for them by a person of a mystical persuasion for the bond between the cards and the divinator to be especially strong.  Little does she know that I'm probably going to bust this deck out at parties as a fun trick and make my own deck with personalized cards based on the original set, but that's ok.
     I eagerly read the instruction booklet and began assigning cards for the people in my life who will be common significators.  It was a hard decision between the Queen of Wands, who wears a tunic with lizards on it, or the Queen of Pentacles, whose personality matches mine.  I was originally drawn to the Queen of Pentacles, so she seemed the more fitting choice.  I searched through the deck for myself.  Lo and behold, she kind of looked like me, meaning she has short brown hair and a face.
     Upon closer inspection, I was floored by the cruel irony of the universe present in the lower right-hand corner of the card.
     Now by this point in the day, I had been doing some thinking about symbolism, memories, how sentimental I am and such.  Instead of spiralling into sorrow and wallowing in my own crapulence,  I realized that the lump-in-the-throat feeling may be a good thing.  Remorse that something is over means it wasn't a total waste of time; to me, that is very good thing.  Growing apart, death, and moving on are all a part of life.  I am the kind of girl that normally holds grudges, long, bitter grudges.  Strangely enough, not this time.  Could I be growing up to some degree?  As much as I do not enjoy feeling melancholy, heartache reminds us that the world is so much bigger than ourselves, and that we share our experiences with the people we choose to surround ourselves with.