Merry Whatever your family, culture, tradition calls it! After finishing my last shift before the holiday last night, the spirit totally possessed me when I took that first sip of Light Nog and Bacardi Oakhart.
My brother also got me a set of Copic markers, in sketching grays, so I am so stoked to play around with them.
Wishing you a happy holiday full of magic and cheer one family event, gift, and party at a time!
The holidays are a time of indulgence. Sadly, I've been in a really strange frame of mind lately: probably because finals are eating all my brain power. I keep spending money I don't have and day dreaming far too much. Anyway, a Christmas posting spree is about to go down after the next 2 days. Today was day one of a three day Psychology examgasm.
A word of advice for anyone, all the time: don't drink a big coffee when your body is not used to sugary caffeine then go on the public transit without a washroom for over an hour. It sometimes means you wet yourself 5 feet from your door.
Not that it happened.
Whatever, It's almost time to party.
If you look in the notes on my iPod touch, there are only dreams and really important quotes from silly adventures. Today, let us begin the wild journey into my subconscious (actually I believe in Day Residue and random nerve firings while in REM sleep, but you're here for entertainment not a psychology lecture).
My drawing abilities are a little rusty right now, so bear with me, and we'll get through this. Thank glob for 4 day weekends next semester.
A few nights ago, I dreamt that I was hosting a tonne of people at my family cabin. There was a property beside ours for sale so we went over to check it out. Equipped with a full on beach house sleeping cabin and separate boardwalk toilet, I decided to see if it had indoor plumbing. There was a cat inside the little out-housey structure so I gave it a scritch then dropped trow to tinkle. In real life, I would never, ever, ever pet a wild, flea and tick ridden cat then touch my junk area, but it's a dream and anything can happen. And that was certainly the truth. The toilet had one of those chain dangling flusher pulls, so I had to take advantage of that because I've never used one before. To my horror, as I stood up to pull my undies and pants up, I had a spongy set of male genitalia.
Possibly an even more strange turn of events, the cat I had been petting came out of the toilet.
It told me that it was an ancient demon, but I was pretty pissed off that it gave me a D after petting it and saying nice things to it. I didn't even call it a pussy.
Adjusting to my possibly fake, non-function man parts was really challenging. The texture was like stress ball material, and was definitely not human skin, or even part of my body. I tried tucking it between my legs, but that made walking really uncomfortable.
I gave up and put my shorts back on, if anyone notices, maybe the sorcery would go away.
The terror disappeared from my unnatural package and I returned to my friends, a make-shift Scooby Doo Mystery Team, complete with Chris Hemsworth as Fred.
Don't get me wrong, Chris Hemsworth is a wicked hunk, no lie. I just just felt like drawing a derpy version of him for fun. Anyway, I think I had woman-parts again because we went swimming and my bathing suit fit fine and I wasn't embarrassed of my gender ambiguity.
The take-home message from this dream is that I have NEVER, EVER had such a vivid dream about junk before. Hopefully I haven't scared anyone for life. It was just so strange. Here's one more piece of uncomfortable fun to round out the post!
Future dreams will be waaaaaaaaaaaay less vulgar, I promise!
I know, I know, I keep procrastinating. I have another modelling gig coming up so I'm working out all the time and have been watching another anime so my free time keeps disappearing (also it's Halloweekend so what else do you expect from me?). The transition from fall to winter is beginning round these parts so I find myself falling asleep at strange times and screwing myself over productivity-wise.
Anyway, this anime I'm watching reminded me of something worth pondering, in what universe do ladies have tiny frames and HUGE boobs? We could go into great depths at the unrealistic standards portrayed in anime, but who really gives a fuck. It's the physics of boobs in anime that gets me. The semi-overt movement of breasts during mundane tasks does liven up the show, but as a lady with lady parts, I certainly don't see them in that extent of constant movement.
Some days, I swear, the gravity of boobs changes. Different undergarments have different effects too, but there is something else. Boobies, such an enigma.
I'll be straight with you guys, I'm not sure what I can accomplish over the next few weeks. Hopefully I can get some drawing done soon, it really is leaving a void in my life without it, but I know this is just a temporary state and I hope to be quirking the internest up again soon....sooooooooon.
I have decided to turn the focus of of this blog onto my dreams for a bit. Not the lofty goals which keep me awake and smiling at night, but the kind that wake me up at 4am wondering how the random firing at my synapses created the image of a 32 year old Skeletor woman with a tonne of tattoos in a sheer dress sitting on the arm of a couch, and I can only see her from behind and she had an absurdly exaggerated butt cleft that was dirty and soiled but she is somehow, at the same time a guy really important to me.
Anyway, one run on sentence later, I can tell you that I've been keeping a log of my most outlandish dreams for the last 3 years. Illustrations are a must. Enjoy!
Today, I realized I am over half way done my degree. I am not a teenager any more. I am not dating someone that is still a teenager. I'm still working a dead-end job I've had since I was a teenager, but that is neither here nor there. Life is pretty flippin' sweet. Things are happening that are making me very excited for the next 7 years.
The best part, I decided in the shower, is the interesting people I've met over the last 3 years. University really is the best way to meet new, smart, interesting people, even if it's totally in passing and by chance.
In two hours, I have my last midterm. I have never been so excited for the weekend. I had a midterm and hour ago, that is also important to know. It's going to be a rough day, because I'm a paid subject in a synesthesia study at 6pm tonight till 8pm, and I'll be done my multiple choice midterm probably by 3:30. Oh well, Feast for Crows will keep me company and there's only about 200 pages left. Time to demolish that.
Anyway, I've been neglecting this blog again, but putting a lot into my life, so hopefully you can forgive me.
making my dreams come true and shit!
(I'll add pictures this weekend, I promise. There are going to be some GNARLY hangovers in the next few days so quietly drawing will be a welcome change.)
I've always wanted to make a bento box for a special boy. If you are unaware of the Japanese tradition, a girl makes a bento for her paramour to show her affection and cookery skills (don't worry, we don't all watch anime, we can still be friends). Anyway, I've been wanting to try making a cake pop based desert for a while, and had just bought an adorable dinosaur container so here's what I came up with!
Cute, huh? I honestly wanted to curl up and cry by the time I was finished. It was more than 8 nerve racking hours over 2 days, but it turned out exactly as I'd hoped. Except that the salmon sashimi was next to impossible to dip in chocolate.
Here we are before the dreaded melting chocolate dripping.
Yes'm, that is tempura shrimp make out of cake, chocolate, and Rice Crispies. Their stupid tails kept coming off in the chocolate so I did have to doctor a few attempts together. For a girl that can never eat shrimp, they look pretty good.
This is the sweet face of victory. Savour it people. I think I'll stick to cup cakes from here on out.
Public transportation owes me at least a month of my life back from being debilitated by illness. I even passed up boxing this morning in hopes of not making my ailment worse. Granted, as soon as I felt a tickle in the back of my throat, I should have known.
Last night, we celebrated my best friend's girl friend's birthday. The night started out well, but Tim and I left in search of cheaper liquor and we were denied re-entry without paying cover (we were harsh duped by the earlier shift of bouncers). While we sipped our Jack and colas behind a truck container, my congestion got worse and worse; however, I was enjoying buzzed chatting with my fine male companion so I tried to ignore it. It wasn't a very well crafted ruse.
Busing home was by far the worst part of the night. Trying with all my might to ignore the river of salinated sebum waiting to run just inside my face, I somehow managed to get home without him seeing my dolled up face deteriorate right before a bus full of stranger's eyes.
I just looked dranked and droopy for a time, but I couldn't fight it anymore.
It was shoes off, straight running time when I got far away from any traces of intelligent, judgmental life. I may have also peed at my neighbours' fence, but that's not the first time. Sadly, the night was far from over. Despite taking copious amounts of night time sinus meds and some Dimetapp a few hours later, sleep did not come easily due to all the post-nasal drip a sinus infection entails. Only my left nostril was leaking like an old faucet, so I turned to a trusty method of flow control.
Thankfully, I have yet to have the T.P. get stuck in my nose while sleeping, I pray tonight I don't wake up dead.
Long time no update, and to that I do appologize; however, nothing really has happened for me except another photo shoot and the usual mundane crud. I've been working at the same entry level, minimum wage job on and off for 5 years and a brief holiday was well appreciated. Coming back to normal life is kind of a worrying because I really do need to find something I enjoy enough to make working and being a full time student worth while when only punching 2 shifts per week.
Also I'm lazy.
Turns out government liquor stores don't want to hire faded peach and bleach blonde mop tops representing their fine wares to the Canadian public. After waiting a long time and letting the pink fade into even crazier hair, I was unexpectedly offered another modelling gig and wound up with Ariel on crack red hair in an even stranger asymmetrical cut than I'm used to. It all worked out because I have a red wine and chocolate in a dark, romantic room auburn hair now in a cutie patootie pixie cut now. After a lot of really positive feedback and encouragement, I've decided to pursue real modelling. If I can get paid to do one thing, I can end my career, but it would be an amazing way to make mad bank while stuck as a student. Who knows what may happen?
Another reason I've hardly been on my computer is because I have been absorbed into the world of Game of Thrones. Eventually I want to make a picture of the newest hit band, Eddard Stark and the Magnetic Zeros, with hits such as "40 Day Dreamwine", "Winterfell (Home)", and "The Battle of Black Water". Don't worry guys, it's gonna be great, I promise. Anyway, I'm on to the 4th book now, I read the 3rd book in about 6 days, so it ate over half of my holiday to my magical island.
That being said, tanning and reading on the beach is one of my favourite things, and swimming whenever I want is pretty splendid too. I even got to see my spirit guide, the river otter, almost on a daily basis.
There were babies too, 3 adorabulous, squabbling babies! One morning, I went to poke around on the sand bar at low tide. The otter gambled out from behind some logs near the mouth of the trail down to the beach and we startled each other. It made a break for the water, but it was so shallow that it ran aground on its tummy and flapped about for a bit, realized the futility of the energy expenditure, stood up, and walked into a deeper area to swim away. The look of almost embarrassment then mild distaste on its face were ridiculously anthropomorphic but so identifiable. We are one in the same.
One piece of really good news is that my best girl got her driver's license! Now both my best friends and my boyyyyfrrrieeeenddd can drive me around so I can have my learner's permit FOREVER.
Thankfully going back to school means more initiative to kill time, so we all know what that means...consistent posting!
The universe really does work in mysterious ways. Last night I went to a hipster bar. My drink was free because our mustachioed server decided I didn't need to pay. Flattering, yes. Things were going well...but not for long.
We played Apples to Apples, a word game leading to side splitting moments so oft. Its anarchist stoner older brother that still lives in his parents' basement, Cards Against Humanity, is the best game ever hands down though.
We left pretty early because the birthday peeps Caitlin and I didn't even get introduced to, decided to call it a night. I think my crew waited around in the streets like hooligans for a while then I got a burger and ran into an old friend for uncomfortable only-I-was-inebriated-and-probably-just-yelled-at-him-like-some-kind-of-maniac small talk. Oh well.
Upon returning to the swank apartment my friend was house sitting, we drank more and played Cranium, but only the acting cards like charades but with humming sometimes. All I know is that if I can ever afford the beautiful fixtures and furnishings I saw last night, all my other dreams will probably have came true already. It's almost my birthday so I guess I have to start formulating the perfect wish.
It was time to catch the last seabus to North Van, so I soldiered off by my lonesome to wait with all the other reeling drunkards. I forgot my headphones so I had a hard time ignoring some ESL buddy guy yelling "I LIKE YOUR HAIR, ARE YOU A STYLIST? OR ARE YOU MODELING?" Thanks and walking briskly away did not suffice. He decided that sloppily mauling at my arm was the best way to win a fair hipster lady's heart. What's more, yelling, "CAN YOU PLEASE SLOW DOWN, I'VE BEEN DRINKING AND YOU SHOULD WALK WITH ME....WHY ARE YOU ALONE?" would make me want to go with him even more.
Eugh...as unpleasant as it was, I was set to kick some lout ass because I've started cardio kick boxing. Roundhouse kick to the ear and run like hell, I can dig it. You're probably thinking, "oh, the poor pretty girl doesn't have to pay for drinks, gets hit on, and has people offer to do seemingly nice things for her. Life is so hard, isn't it?" But in all fairness, getting hit on by strange drunk men, especially when you are not at all interested makes me feel like meat, a fabulous piece of meat. I felt pretty icky as I came home, sobering up with each passing block. Listening to the hollers of the midnight masses is actually really frightening to me. To be honest, the droning of a thousand different conversations in a crowd is one of my most anxiety provoking situations. It's like being in the centre of a writhing mass of screeching animals, kind of like that scene from Mean Girls in the cafeteria.
I digress, today was Father's day. After work, my family went to my Grandad's house for dinner. For once I left my phone at home. Hoping to be greeted by jovial texts from my homegurls, or maybe even my man, I got slapped in the face by the universe. Months, and months, and months after corning me on the bus and accosting me until I gave him my number to be his "class contact" in a second year psyc class in September, this creepy older guy decided to ask me where to buy recycled wallets out of juice and wrappers and containers and shit. Out of the freaking blue. Basically internest, trust in me when I say that if a girl doesn't contact you for months, does not reply to to your invite to your housewarming party a month after your class together is over, and never contacts you again after, she is not interested.
Why do people in general decide that it is okay to talk to strangers? Working in retail is a good way to become disenchanted with friendliness. I suspect desperate loneliness in people that corner sales associates and those adjacent to them on buses.
I just want to clean my room, curl up on my bed, and watch the new season of Workaholics. Having a romantic adventure would be nice too, I think I'm harsh anticipating my birthday and the possible arrival of real summer heat, nice weather, getting out of town, and kickin' back good times.
It was my best gurl's 20th birthday last weekend. Time flies far too fast. I can't believe we are so close to escaping teen pregnancy! From what I do remember of that night, there was a lot of yelling, especially in the back of the bus as we waited to get home. It was my duty as bff to ring in midnight and her surpassing the ability to ruin her life with teen motherhood. Because we all know there's SUCH a huge difference between 19 and 20. Fingers crossed I make it till the 4!
Jokes aside, it was such a fun night. Flask in tow, and some old skool hip hop on the sound system, when the DJ played some MJ, our brain connection was as strong as ever.
Ham on, ham on whole wheat, all right?
The years may change us in some ways, but we will always be fundamentally the same and make each other laugh so hard my fake eyelashes melt off my face before we even hit the club. That night was one of those things-sound-like-they-maybe-went-horribly-wrong-come-the-end-of-it-but-actually-make-you-smile-now-because-your-relationship-is-stronger-hopefully kind of nights. Other than working all the time, I'm genuinely pleased with my life right now.
Reading in bed is a simple request, reading on my breaks seems doable too, but do you think I ever get to?
My glasses of 9 years broke 2 Saturdays ago. It was very sad times. My fashion forward 6th grade eyeware had seen me a lot of things and it hurt to feel the left arm completely snap off. Then again, at a house party half a year ago, it did get bent vertically in the air and I woke up with soap in my hair and a car mirror in my bed so they really did outlast their expected longevity. Who knows what they've seen that my natural eyes cannot remember.
I'm a gangsta, but cha'll knew dat, big baus dawg, yeee I had to do dat. Keep a blue flag hangin' out ma backside only on the left side, yeeeee das da crip side.
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that the thug life really does feel so damn good. My bestest bro comes home from a magical far away trip abroad to the land of beer cheaper than water, and I'm looking forward to getting my fellow party juggernaut back. His adventure has me yearning for out of country travel, but I've never done it before so I'm only going off of TV, movies, stories, and of course, my fantasies.
After applying for my very first passport on Monday, I am especially filled with lofty dreams of white sand and clear aquamarine water.
I may or may not require the ability to legally leave the country, but being able to go outlet malling would make me feel a lot less left out. Hearing tales of the oversold goods and not quite par designer clothing have built up high expectations over the years. If Gap miss mates and odd size clothing isn't enough, there's always Trader Joe's...
Upon further reflection, it's probably best the drinking age is 21 in America, maybe by then I'll have a real job and will be able to afford the wholesale liquor and snack treats in outrageous quantities I so long for.
I came to the sad realization that I missed Thing of Stuff's 1 year anniversary! However, that being said, I've been happy, making money, and enjoying time in a healthy relationship so I'm not too upset. Last night, I made dino sprinkle cupcakes just for fun, luring Tim to come over with the prospect of helping me. He got to learn what I'm like in the kitchen.
Anyone that's baked with me before (very, very few people) know that I get into OCD beast mode and have to do everything myself. He came at the right time because only icing and decorating was left and it's much easier to share knives than an electric beater. As you have probably figured out, things have been very domestic lately. I would never lie to the anonymous internet, I've been watching a lot of anime and reading...books. You can take the nerd out of school, but shiiiiiiiiiiiet, I forgot how delicious reading is. 14 year old boy adventure novels are way too addicting. Also, I may have started reading a certain book series turned major HBO series but I'm only past the title book's prologue so I'll wait to join the fantasy masses and blog about it.
(Paint skilllllz, there was no way I was going to draw the throne with all those blades and hilts)
Also, with consideration to catching up on things that sound like things I'd like but have never bothered to check out: Invader Zim. Last night, my boyfriend flipped out that I had never seen it. Yes, I developed this affectation of quirkiness without witnessing even 5 minutes of semi-spastic, detailed humor. Needless to say, I was hooked after the first few minutes.
I think I can see where I fit in.
It's funny, I have about 4 unfinished posts and even some inked doodles good to go, but I just need to get my butt in gear. Happy 1 year, and thanks for lurking!
Welp, it's all over now. All the crazy, stressful, amazing things last week have come to a close. The only reminder is my shocking pink hair. It's most definitely strange having everyone looking at me because it's 3 different shades of pink, 2 shades of purple, and my face is framed with an amethystine shadow. Of course, I'm still rockin' the asymmetry though. Celebrity hair, as my brother is calling it, is a huge time commitment but the whole legit fashion photo shoot experience was dreamy. Not gonna lie, I feel like Nicki Minaj or something every time I leave my house now.
Granted, I feel so exquisitely out of place in the Valley. In an area seething with long haired high school girls and G'ed up skater hoodrats, this semi-permanent high fashion statement is kind of hard to cover up. Oh well, you only live once. My advice to any other amateur hair models out there, if you allow them to do what ever the hell they want, you must have the confidence to rock what they give you.
The best part about having short hair is that you can't see it around your face. I am continually shocked when I look in mirrors, especially all the times I've gone hard in the paint Sunday onward. Staggering to the ladies' room and being greeted by Strawberry Shortcake's avant-garde emo hipster cousin in the mirror is certainly novel!
Despite the occasional bout of slight self-consciousness, posing to M83's Midnight City and getting more make-up poofed on my face under the bright lights will be a story to tell the grand-babies for sure.
I start working again tomorrow, so it's back to buisness and anecdotes and such! Happy summer to my fellow university-goers!
I don't totally believe in superstition, but it's only 1:30 and shit's been fucked pretty hard already.
My English final was this morning at 8:30, of course before I went into the exam I had a pee break so I wouldn't have to be uncomfortable while writing. I now know why my handicapped washroom had two locks, halfway through my hover-pee, the door bust open and some blonde chick started screaming. I yelled,"OH MY GOD!" and ran to close the door, clam out like a baus.
Needless to say, it was not how I'd hoped to start my morning. At least my english final felt really good. Yes, it was mostly bullshit, but at least it's done.
Then I got to my last bus exchange, but I saw a familiar profile of my demon-ex, so I nonchalantly checked the bus schedule, read that a 20 minute wait was in order, so I just kept walking. I walked through some back alleys, then through the first park (Seylynn/Bridgeman), then over the bridge, then a block farther over and all the way up this Brooksbank trail then I was beside the highway, so I went down a hyena path death-ravine and up and down and up again until I came out at Lieutet. I was only two blocks away from my boyfriend's house, but wearing black tights, a mini skirt, leather Steve Madden fashion combat boots, a three-quarter length sleeve tee, and a pink and gray flannel in the pelting sun kind of made me sweat off a dress size. For the good of the relationship, I walked to Grand Boulevard to take a safe bus.
Not wanting to wait another god damn twenty minutes, I continued walking. Once I could see the mall, there was no point not finishing the job. I braved hordes of high schoolers and elementary school children on lunch to eventually get home as of 15 minutes ago.
All this to possibly avoid a panic attack.
MERRY FRIDAY THE 13th, may your day be more felicitous than mine.
Update: Legit lost 2 pounds of water weight from that walk.
In the words of Berks, "It wers the berst of terms, it wers the werst of terms". Indeed, my Gerseberms-loving friend, it truly is.
After a few very disappointing weekends, this just passed, especially Friday, filled me with such happiness. First off, my avant-garde style caught the eye of a stylist in need of a model for a hair styling competition! I firmly believe that ANYONE can model with enough make up and directed posing. Soon, I will be living proof. Also I will most likely have bizarrely coloured hair, fingers crossed for super light cotton candy pink or mauve!
Friday night was full of weird coincidences, friends from the past and present, and basically 3 very different events in one night. The evening began at 6:20 and ended at 3 for me and I regret nothing. Not even holding my best friend up while he peed in a very public area.
Even my love life is super cuuuuuteeee. Optimus Prime can transform into cake pans now, so he gets to congratulate Tim on a very recent achievement as soon as the kitchen is clean (who needs to write final essays that are worth 45% of the total course grade in advance?). The only thing really wrong right now is having to think about final exams. I am way too excited about this hair modelling venture and the impending freedom of summer to have to worry about things. Even with 4 months of summer ahead of us, September waits ominously just in my peripherals; we may get into why depending on how distraught I get as plans formulate.
For now, let us all enjoy the longer days, exciting nights, and the irrepressible rebirth that sprouts up from Spring.
A few weeks ago, we went out to celebrate a friend's birthday. It was nice to see some people from high school I seldom keep in contact with. Knowing me, my primary incentive was to get a bit buzzed. I had a bottle of coffee with Bailey's, Kahlua, and Peppermint Schnapps in my purse and had to make many escapes to the bathroom to supplement the pitcher of sangria. After we had paid our bills at the pre-gaming spot, an old friend and I ventured forth into the dark of the urban night on our first adventure in years as an epic duo.
After he did his thing in a brick alcove, he noticed me having some trouble with my milky brown concoction.
We all know the alcohol yell. Anyway, it's funny how easy it can be to reconnect and settle back into roles in the friend group like no time has passed. These are very special friends. I always feel so refreshed to hear the words, "this is why I love you! God, I missed you!"
It got me thinking about how much I've changed over the last few years, or haven't, I suppose. Sometimes I wish I could talk to myself as a protective guardian from the future. First off I think 15 year old me would chew me out for getting jealous of my friend going to the Ke$ha concert, and being able to identify with the longing for an "excuse to dress like a whore and be covered in glitter".
After that, we'd talk seriously about some decisions in her life and I would urge her to rid herself of some dead weight. Most importantly, I'd reassure her that everything will work out.
You see, gentle reader, I'm going to let you in on a little secret about my personal life as I feel like most humans can relate. A lot of changes have occurred in me between now and the last two years of high school, when we begin to become functioning human beings. Often times I feel like a completely different person, and not necessarily in a good way.
Feeling like a part of me has died is rather disconcerting, considering she was the whimsical and irrepressibly free spirited component of my psyche that radiated contagious joy. There's been a bit of a battle royale waging between parts of my brain for a while now, a most viscous cycle of self doubt and loathing only to lead to more trouble for no real reason.
It's taken me a while to revive myself, melodrama aside, that freak is still totally alive and kickin'. Although subdued, she can be coaxed out through obscure nerd things, artsy shit, and pervasive optimism. Yes, dear reader, this free drink snagging, often shamelessly self promoting and self deprecatingly proud weirdo's self confidence fluctuates like a chubby 12 year old girl wearing a bikini only because she knows wearing a tankini will alert everyone on the beach to her lack of self esteem (can you guess who the funny fat nerdy kid was in elementary school?).
It was only while flailing through the alleyways of Gastown in the wee hours of the morning when I realized that like it or not, I'm the same random girl I've always been. I often hide how marvellous I think the world is because cynicism is an easy form of humour that helps sensitive people avoid being hurt or disappointed because no one takes them seriously.
Maybe this is where I evolve into my all-encompassing adult stage?
(my baby tee has long necks on it)
I think Cali Swag District said it best, "now you just do you, and Ima do me", "All my bitches love it, you ain't fuckin' with my dougie".