tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62075227377370502632024-03-06T01:56:06.268-05:00sussex5 minutes in the closet with me.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.comBlogger112125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-69489923179372722362012-12-03T13:11:00.001-05:002012-12-03T13:11:16.275-05:00Cracktastic chocolate covered toffeeWhat a good way out of a baaaad mood. Whip up a batch of toffee, coat it with chocolate, fleur du sel, cacao nibs and pralines.<br />
Melt one cup of butter, add one cup of sugar and bring to a boil over medium heat. Stir constantly, and allow mixture to come to 280 degrees STIRRING CONSTANTLY. When it reaches 280, turn off the heat and continue stirring until it reaches about 290.<br />
Pour into a baking tray greased with butter and allow to set for 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, sprinkle liberally with chocolate chips and allow them to melt for 2 minutes, then spread them until they cover the surface. Sprinkle on whatever you like, gently pressing in any large bits like nuts. Refrigerate until set, then remove with a spatula, crack into pieces and keep in an airtight container. Fuck yes. <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Tc5S0i-IT_A/ULzrP3R6r6I/AAAAAAAABM4/LyplvjmWGRY/s640/blogger-image--903515230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Tc5S0i-IT_A/ULzrP3R6r6I/AAAAAAAABM4/LyplvjmWGRY/s640/blogger-image--903515230.jpg" /></a></div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-7294886127836434262010-03-01T22:22:00.002-05:002010-03-01T22:25:40.513-05:00Little Rat, Little Rat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw0p8IVc6DIm-baGGCg5ATIS3q_-aOQ6KSNoNSfjq-Uha6EEyBVZ1xADSMiOhNev0hD0bDI_NS8Fe9SD667WWIK4n7siJQ2lrlZMScZsn9OjOW8aT26XcbaWRUybrqf-ko433giFk5Ndzu/s1600-h/cam+158.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw0p8IVc6DIm-baGGCg5ATIS3q_-aOQ6KSNoNSfjq-Uha6EEyBVZ1xADSMiOhNev0hD0bDI_NS8Fe9SD667WWIK4n7siJQ2lrlZMScZsn9OjOW8aT26XcbaWRUybrqf-ko433giFk5Ndzu/s320/cam+158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443872032646452370" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm sorry your eye is fucked.<br />I hope you don't feel too bad,<br />and want you to stay alive.<br /><br />Little Rat, Little Rat,<br />As long as you're not in pain,<br />I'll tickle your ears again<br />and we'll wait and see.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-43076496701241261692010-02-16T15:02:00.003-05:002010-02-16T15:15:34.208-05:00O Amor Natural<span style="font-family:verdana;">Happy Valentine's day. I remember watching this documentary about the posthumously published book of Erotic poetry by a famous Brazilian poet when I was a teen. It blew my mind for several reasons. Firstly, I had never heard of someone writing about sex or lust in an artistic or beautiful way before. "Dirty" words or ideas made acceptable by being framed by an artist in a tender way.<br />Another thing that shocked me about this doc. is how it uses the elderly. Old people read the author's poems, give their opinions, and sometimes their personal sexual or romantic experiences. It forced me to view old people in a new way: as people who used to be young, and who fornicated, yearned and explored in their youth. I tend to think of the past as a more sexually repressed time, a sanitized, powdered age, forgetting that no matter what type of repression exists, human needs always find an outlet.<br />For awhile, I thought that the documentary also reflected a different attitude towards sex among people in Brazil. Watching it as an adult I'm not so sure, but I still think it's worth a watch. Happy Humping.<br />Watch below in parts.<br />xo<br /></span><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cPUHzvifuMc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cPUHzvifuMc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-76272847396524149102010-02-02T19:02:00.006-05:002010-02-02T19:11:36.685-05:00Annoyance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/S2i9gEIR_SI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/xgTUzOf-DwM/s1600-h/Dying.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 284px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/S2i9gEIR_SI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/xgTUzOf-DwM/s320/Dying.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433801308984442146" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">This* is just to say: I am very bored with the contemporary obsession with fonts and witty/emo phrases oh-so-skillfully arranged, pretending to be art. Inspiration, maybe. Art? Meh.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">*O hai! I made this in mspaint to express my feelings. Isn't it beautiful?</span><br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-56894372586399005822010-02-01T22:02:00.005-05:002010-02-07T23:09:07.369-05:00Crazy things I believe<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.quitor.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/apple-eating-knife-600x487.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 487px;" src="http://www.quitor.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/apple-eating-knife-600x487.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Crazy things I believe number one:<br />eating apples without washing them strengthens your constitution, making you less susceptible to illness. I don't know if this conviction came from being too lazy to wash apples, or a period of apple-eating good health. I know it's silly, but this I believe.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-2149720080221944092010-01-29T22:16:00.003-05:002010-01-29T22:24:30.717-05:00Audio Candy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDrN-2gcjnupXkew0sPGNsv1vUvc0kyPRIhatKk1coIgweNNvizkidswgL7799652pJQCir3wbvAWvttYdiOjiVnNERxEmUmNa8B1HwgoL5_GWnl2kP2iskjc_iRG4mJFVLr3ax3uzSXM/s400/15_trees_5_scatter.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDrN-2gcjnupXkew0sPGNsv1vUvc0kyPRIhatKk1coIgweNNvizkidswgL7799652pJQCir3wbvAWvttYdiOjiVnNERxEmUmNa8B1HwgoL5_GWnl2kP2iskjc_iRG4mJFVLr3ax3uzSXM/s400/15_trees_5_scatter.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:arial;" >Dear, sweet <a href="http://greatgreatgrand.blogspot.com/"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Pete</span></a></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://greatgreatgrand.blogspot.com/"> </a><span style="font-family: verdana;">gave me a wonderful gift the other night.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">He stood outside my old apartment and recorded 45 minutes of ambient noise to help me sleep, and generally prove that he's awesome. Did I mention that it was -19 outside?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I used to fall asleep to the sound of streetcars entering the station, drunks heading to/from the bar, cars and trucks and dogs. All of the noise of living just off a busy street. Now I can do it whenever I want. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm a damned lucky fool.</span><br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-28568404047516602042010-01-19T19:58:00.004-05:002010-01-20T13:37:50.687-05:00Sugar Friends<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/S1ZV5MqSyuI/AAAAAAAAA7w/eY01oH3gcis/s1600-h/32580564_89497f1caa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/S1ZV5MqSyuI/AAAAAAAAA7w/eY01oH3gcis/s320/32580564_89497f1caa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428620841981233890" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Call them Sugar Friends. Call them your Cinnamon Fantasies. Call them when you're having a party and you run out of ice or cutlery. They are friends who you can count on to help you do things like drag home scavenged furniture, explore new recipes, eat your leftovers/offer you their leftovers. We all have friends like these, but when they move into your neighbourhood or you move into theirs, something special happens.<br />Calling all my close friends near and far. Move to Seaton Village and share my sugar.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-82982529097960969402009-11-27T15:17:00.005-05:002009-11-27T15:21:58.002-05:00Master Khan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8G4LtKMB5nLhOuXpu8IhIUZsINZJcl9wyoiNqkktYNFuFLa2HaNF1PnRDb6pLG-fjrZtsFa5UOeh8EIOiziMijYHITCdy2QbyoOYxVxe49oiL-d3HHIokbcVRZ6Ijp0acuK8ikocxFKe/s1600/Ethnography+042.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8G4LtKMB5nLhOuXpu8IhIUZsINZJcl9wyoiNqkktYNFuFLa2HaNF1PnRDb6pLG-fjrZtsFa5UOeh8EIOiziMijYHITCdy2QbyoOYxVxe49oiL-d3HHIokbcVRZ6Ijp0acuK8ikocxFKe/s320/Ethnography+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408880416587294690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcdxFsuOGXM9ME4xXTi9j2lwi3CRY9QmShVpf_3AXVp1TP3dPOfckuZ_xsppGz6V_O3cn5dcp90RtqjTWOGkeZDjOo19aTG5CuiQv3XHSs5MkAvCrZRPbwl4aqcCHB8uCUe-C5xNtP3qCQ/s1600/Ethnography+038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcdxFsuOGXM9ME4xXTi9j2lwi3CRY9QmShVpf_3AXVp1TP3dPOfckuZ_xsppGz6V_O3cn5dcp90RtqjTWOGkeZDjOo19aTG5CuiQv3XHSs5MkAvCrZRPbwl4aqcCHB8uCUe-C5xNtP3qCQ/s320/Ethnography+038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408880208534653714" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />Do you know this mouse? We believed we had caught the elusive Master Khan, however this morning, well after the release of the fugitive into the wild, another critter who looked suspiciously like him scurried under the dresser. If you see this mouse, call 542-6666 (KHA-NNNN) immediately.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-45952427041173521952009-11-23T12:36:00.001-05:002009-11-23T12:38:42.754-05:00Working on your Resume<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SwrIWK5LJkI/AAAAAAAAA4U/Q5ZHiyIh4Zs/s1600/baseball+jc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SwrIWK5LJkI/AAAAAAAAA4U/Q5ZHiyIh4Zs/s320/baseball+jc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407354585818539586" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Working on your resume, while at work, on a computer whose screen everyone entering the premises can see: Tacky. <br />Tackier than baseball JC. Tackier than blogging while at work.<br />End Transmission<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-59156829196617903742009-11-19T19:50:00.003-05:002009-11-19T19:54:44.733-05:00Unemployed in St. Thomas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SwXn6T1UrqI/AAAAAAAAA4E/8nxJorlS2GE/s1600/bunny.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SwXn6T1UrqI/AAAAAAAAA4E/8nxJorlS2GE/s320/bunny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405981916670504610" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;">Working on a project for school. It involves choosing 75 books to buy for a library in St. Thomas Ontario (whose notable characteristic recently is that it has lost thousands of jobs in the auto and manufacturing sectors).<br />Unfortunately, we chose the Dewey area of 'Recreation and Sports', which means I'm sifting through a lot of books like 'How to win at Internet Poker' and 'Solitaire and other solo games' and 'Drinking Games neither you nor your friends will remember' and 'How to become an awesome online gamer'. <br />Every book hurts a little. Except Amy Sedaris' book on entertaining, which I think might be a perfectly justified addition to any library.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-80278103383895549832009-11-14T20:17:00.002-05:002009-11-14T20:24:54.828-05:00Moondog<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhApd7XBkkJtXyIv72YBOS9N8MOEjBfRGLsKt5Kgpyidk58xw6IFd5vahoR4MbFVZz1yZjAnR3YH9zZkRD8YWH-YyIlC7sHfsacd_VvQ9kuBW6PmK9m_38ie-NiSu-M5mClV54nojbm5zwL/s1600-h/Cc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhApd7XBkkJtXyIv72YBOS9N8MOEjBfRGLsKt5Kgpyidk58xw6IFd5vahoR4MbFVZz1yZjAnR3YH9zZkRD8YWH-YyIlC7sHfsacd_VvQ9kuBW6PmK9m_38ie-NiSu-M5mClV54nojbm5zwL/s320/Cc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404133570268542642" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I went to Wikipedia to discover the name of the type of Jazz played occasionally on my favourite <a href="http://www.wfmu.org/Playlists/Doug/">playlist</a>. Was it free jazz? Experimental? Whatever it's called, it gives me a goddamned headache, and makes me milli-anxious. <br />Instead I discover Moondog. I'm still not sure if I like his music, and it seems he's become a bit of a cult figure to some, but he's an interesting chap. Blind, he lived on the streets for many years by choice, and earned the nickname 'The Viking of 6th Avenue. Apparently, though, he was a talented composer who even invented a couple of instruments.<br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7guHqujmrs">Here's a sample</a> if you're interested.<br /><br />Go Moondog!<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-58120426002352575052009-11-09T22:12:00.003-05:002009-11-09T22:14:15.078-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SvjaOiSAhFI/AAAAAAAAA3g/thGM_PNL5A8/s1600-h/taster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SvjaOiSAhFI/AAAAAAAAA3g/thGM_PNL5A8/s320/taster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402307696286270546" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Today I thought I came up with the perfect job for myself. I wondered if it already existed, and it seemed to me that it might be an untapped market, and that I could land or create the position. <br />Unfortunately I've forgotten what it was. Goodbye, calling.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-12266388253238636082009-11-06T21:59:00.003-05:002009-11-06T22:05:03.697-05:00What to do<span style="font-family:verdana;">When you're walking down the street, with a load of confusing feelings. When things seem out of control and you want to laugh like a mad person. When you're too old for most of the classic self-destructive behaviours, and too prissy to go out on a bender.<br />Solution: SUPERCUTS. 10 minutes and 14 dollars later and I'm a new(ish) woman.<br /><br />Ask Manny for the <a href="http://images03.olxsg.com/ui/3/05/74/49960174_1.jpg">short-long</a>. It'll do you good.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-21039142023563953882009-10-30T16:48:00.005-04:002009-10-30T18:35:42.006-04:00Wall Decals<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SuteVVET3xI/AAAAAAAAA2k/gUO-HU-aNcU/s1600-h/Picture+040.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SuteVVET3xI/AAAAAAAAA2k/gUO-HU-aNcU/s320/Picture+040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398512298859159314" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">They really tie a room together</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /><br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-88692298103625686072009-09-29T18:05:00.003-04:002009-09-29T18:28:57.390-04:00Love Bites<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJv6-XnqHBXD2vpJNqPO1-Ir3OJjiyuH8kbNWaJbul-p8gw1Z7hHOZIUvBIxTNJuO1hMMRN6EYUOeVarmUOsWw0YpM6X4Ottr9VfUckeFQZSzXWmGgjR1f3sAVXNwhCk5V594KjUR5UTz/s1600-h/love+bite.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJv6-XnqHBXD2vpJNqPO1-Ir3OJjiyuH8kbNWaJbul-p8gw1Z7hHOZIUvBIxTNJuO1hMMRN6EYUOeVarmUOsWw0YpM6X4Ottr9VfUckeFQZSzXWmGgjR1f3sAVXNwhCk5V594KjUR5UTz/s320/love+bite.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387014662224277298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;">How many people do you love?<br /><br /><br />I only love a handful. I only feel capable of loving a handful. Another few I like, sometimes quite a lot.<br />The rest of you, I'd like to push away with the glowing torch of my misanthropy, like you're beasts closing in on me in a low cave. That is all.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-42481320815205217352009-08-25T17:16:00.007-04:002009-08-26T12:44:37.671-04:00The Hobbled Woman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/uimages/sf/1-14-09%20pillow%209.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 430px; height: 298px;" src="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/uimages/sf/1-14-09%20pillow%209.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">The following has been bothering me for the past few days</span>. <span style="font-family:verdana;">I recently read that the '<a href="http://www.stylesensestilettosprint.ca/">Stiletto Sprint</a>' will be coming to Toronto. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm not usually one to get up in arms about things like this--sure, I think about them, but rarely does it seem so clear to me that I am unhappy with something. I feel that this event is an excuse to sell interest in the company's consumer goods, encourage an unhealthy attitude towards appearance to the participants, and to make a spectacle of women, all under the guise of 'a good cause'.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> The charity (</span><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://www.lookgoodfeelbetter.ca/" target="_blank">Look Good Feel Better</a><span style="font-family:verdana;">) benefits minimally from the event (there is a minimum 15$ entrance fee, all of which goes to the charity...the participants do not get sponsors or donations of their own). The women all receive a 'Stylesense Prize Pack' (which I assume will be full of Winner's coupons) and are competing for the $10,000 prize money, as well as the chance to "show what they can do in heels". The race will be shown on Breakfast Television, where the whole city can watch the participants look like idiots. Don't get me wrong, I'd have less of a problem with this if the charitable connection were more obvious. I have no problem with charity events that use exceptional tactics to get attention for their cause and raise money. I don't feel that this is the case here. The whole thing makes me uncomfortable. </span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-86520046272449208172009-07-24T22:05:00.004-04:002009-07-24T22:16:07.733-04:00I am not Bananas<span style="font-family:verdana;">I tidy up my room, open some unread mail from my optometrist, and a bewitching scent floats out of the envelope. My optometrist has scented business cards. Apparently he is not the only one.<br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">"</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">Scent Your Business Card- (an ebay guide)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">Not only will your business card reflect your business visually, you can have an added dimension that is guaranteed to make an impact on someone’s nose. This method works well for those of you who sell gift baskets, baked goods, flowers, or perfume. Perhaps your name, or company’s name, is Rose, Rosemary, Jasmine, etc. or that is your logo—so a matching aroma would be beneficial to helping people remember your company.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">Scented cards won’t be appropriate for many people or businesses</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> (for example, if you run a mortuary? Or a brothel?)<br />The card actually smells very nice--like woody citrus fruit, but without the alcohol taint that gives you a migraine.<br />Dr. Andrew Leung, you've outdone yourself once again.<br /><br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-89785207691128186542009-07-21T13:25:00.002-04:002009-07-21T15:26:08.173-04:00Skirts Can Be Treacherous<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SmX6itHZcSI/AAAAAAAAAws/YCnAxROWT3o/s1600-h/2450078029_d4264a7991_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SmX6itHZcSI/AAAAAAAAAws/YCnAxROWT3o/s320/2450078029_d4264a7991_b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360966405587562786" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">I wore a flowy skirt to work yesterday. I just didn't feel like wearing pants and that is my right. I've actually come to appreciate the freedom and comfort of skirts in the last couple of years instead of looking down on them as impractical and crippling. When I left work at midnight yesterday, though, my imagination started to go a little crazy. What might jump up and bite my legs as I knelt down in an empty lot to pet two sleepy cats? What strange sewer snake might jump out of the grating on the sidewalk, paralysing me forever and rendering me highly unloveable? What crack-addled man at the sketchy boarding house would see the flash of colour and determine that I was his next victim?<br />I got home safe (as I totally knew I would) and thought more about whether pants or skirts are truly freeing, and thinking about how we try hard to keep the snakes and rats and badgers away from our cities. Thinking that only a city girl has the privilege to walk around in a state so theoretically exposed to danger.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-23835994326183519632009-07-19T23:34:00.003-04:002009-07-19T23:41:04.397-04:00Another drunk post<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://collegeotr.s3.amazonaws.com/images/blogs/78e5c7d6c42fb17b8a93adaea8931ccd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 281px;" src="http://collegeotr.s3.amazonaws.com/images/blogs/78e5c7d6c42fb17b8a93adaea8931ccd.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Went to a barbecue tonight. All was well, I was being social and funny, and felt pretty confident. Until I said something sexist. And someone called me on it.<br />I don't even really believe what I said. I just said it. I guess some part of me believes it. It was something that implied that men can't be blamed for cheating as much as women (in the case that the man is your partner and the woman is your friend) because your friend should know better, and a man can be more easily tempted when put into fucked up circumstances (like being wasted or heavily hit on). Someone took this to mean that I was implying that men are stupid, which I was not.<br />Someone else made the point that when the pants come off, everyone knows what they're doing. I agreed with that. I don't know what caused me to say what I said. It feels like a dark mark on an otherwise very lovely evening with some great new people. I'm taking it fairly lightly right now, for some reason, but I think I will actually think about it more seriously tomorrow. For now, the sleep of the well-boozed and well-snacked.<br /><br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-48753541997422474192009-05-28T10:12:00.003-04:002009-05-28T10:41:47.780-04:00On Being Hateful<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.vinylpulse.com/vp_pics/playskewl/PlaysKewlGimmeShelterLowRes_o.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 364px;" src="http://images.vinylpulse.com/vp_pics/playskewl/PlaysKewlGimmeShelterLowRes_o.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">For the last couple of weeks I've been impossible. I've had trouble being around anyone, and everything has made me unhappy or unsatisfied.<br />When I'm somewhere, I want desperately to escape. When I'm alone, I'm lonely and introspective.<br />I went to an event alone the other night after work, an event full of people schmoozing, with some lectures and musical entertainment scheduled. I stood around for 40 minutes, drank a beer, and then went home. I had absolutely nothing to do to keep myself entertained. There was nowhere to sit, no one to talk to or even make eye contact with, and nothing to look at after I finished endlessly surveying the audience from the stairs. The bartender served 5 other people and ignored me while I stood at the bar. I saw people secretly smoking and I wanted to rat them out to the bouncer. I overheard a boy telling his girl he'd never cheated in his life and I believed him. I saw seemingly underage girls in ugg boots and backpacks pooling their money to buy a drink. I felt tired and angry.<br />Why did I buy a ticket to this stupid thing? If this was my idea of the kind of cultural event I would enjoy, why was I miserable? Why was what I thought I'd enjoy so boring and unpleasant? What do I really want to do with my time?<br />Which leads me to the problem. Everything seems to be unpleasant these days.<br />There's too much stuff on the desk in the living room and my blood starts to boil. Someone asks me for help at work and I instantly go from zero to fifty on the aggro scale. Someone makes a comment about my home or appearance and I want to keep them from ever seeing, or hearing anything to do with me again. I work really hard to be alone so that I avoid having these intense feelings, but they're still here even when everyone else is gone. I get into fights when I'm trying to express my opinion. I'm afraid I might crack, and I've gone from one of the most helpful people around to someone who shuns social contact. All I do is complain. And now I have to do write a paper.<br />Something has to change. Fucked if I know what.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-58733158810388187422009-05-06T22:06:00.003-04:002009-05-06T22:36:26.660-04:00Movie week<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SgJCPq6kwLI/AAAAAAAAAnU/cP_-QMu1toc/s1600-h/shaz_03.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SgJCPq6kwLI/AAAAAAAAAnU/cP_-QMu1toc/s320/shaz_03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332897745745526962" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm at day 5 of this unplanned week of movies.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I went to the theatre on Saturday night to see <a href="http://nihonqc.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/adriftintokyo.jpg">Adrift in Tokyo</a></span>, <span style="font-family:verdana;">which turned out to be a cute, but not exceptional movie. It was nostalgic, and conveyed mood well</span>. <span style="font-family:verdana;">It was full of walking, talking and eating (three of my favourite things) and the young male character had no love interest, which is a choice I respected.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />Day Two - Rented 'In the Realm of the Senses' based on a positive <a href="http://www.nowtoronto.com/movies/dvdreviews.cfm?content=169144">dvd review in NOW Magazine</a></span>. <span style="font-family:verdana;">The review, which I scanned, made it clear th</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://image.guardian.co.uk/sys-images/Film/Pix/pictures/2000/11/02/intherealmofthesenses.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 128px;" src="http://image.guardian.co.uk/sys-images/Film/Pix/pictures/2000/11/02/intherealmofthesenses.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">at the movie revolved around lust and sex, a</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">nd was explicit. I did not realize how explicit.<br />I should have known when one clerk at Queen video gave me </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">the </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">dvd (which I'd called ahead for) and said to the other clerk "This is the person who's renting it." I had no idea a movie could depict what this movie did and get an NC-17 rating (I later learned that NC 17 is not the last rating before X, but replaces the X rating).<br /><br />Day Three - Went back to Queen video (was hoping to see the same employees so I could give back the dvd and go "</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFR17gMcC7L74l3J52P6CByqhkjxpsh6el6j4qQzCCB_CuLIzmbXXyp2f9P3BMyKj3gOcpVeRQWP0rgRAI2Fnv0bQvnf-y_cHc7Tzszr-4_Egh_r5cfml1Nwt2MmFsTQNrqlz-7JKhQqU/s400/happy_together.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFR17gMcC7L74l3J52P6CByqhkjxpsh6el6j4qQzCCB_CuLIzmbXXyp2f9P3BMyKj3gOcpVeRQWP0rgRAI2Fnv0bQvnf-y_cHc7Tzszr-4_Egh_r5cfml1Nwt2MmFsTQNrqlz-7JKhQqU/s400/happy_together.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">bleckhh!", just to prove that I'm not a perv)<br />and picked up Wong Kar Wai's Happy Together. It was satisfying (although, not very happy-I should have known it was a somewhat ironic title) in that is was very moody, colours were used or not used symbolically, and the sets and plot were a great contrast to the personalities of the characters. I'm amazed at how convincingly gay Tony Leung is, and how passionate and emotional both of the actors were. I feel like this is the first portrayal of a gay relationship I've seen that really felt authentic. And painful.<br /><br />Day 4<br />No, not another asian movie. Watched 'For Your Consideration' (I may be the last person in Toronto to see this film). The most interesting part of the film, for me was watching older people play youthful characters, or characters striving to be youthful. I found myself thinking of the actors a lot, wondering whether they felt awkward about being old and playing people fighting their age, being old and playing people desperate to be cool and hip. It wasn't hilarious, but there were a couple of lol moments. And I think I could listen to Harry Shearer all day.<br /><br />Day 5 . . .<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-61130232481020060302009-04-27T20:08:00.005-04:002009-04-27T20:14:59.757-04:00Toying With Designs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SfZJ3sKUWyI/AAAAAAAAAnE/FJJ-73xEIw8/s1600-h/Jumping-Cat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 151px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SfZJ3sKUWyI/AAAAAAAAAnE/FJJ-73xEIw8/s320/Jumping-Cat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329528430135630626" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I liked the images that I found related to the last post so much, I played around with them and turned one into a pattern. It's been my ambition for awhile to find a picture (preferably from archive.org, but perhaps not) and turn it into a pattern to print on fabric. Then I'd like to make it into a skirt.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SfZJ-u2fQbI/AAAAAAAAAnM/fYM5ouDxgGE/s1600-h/Jumping-Cat3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SfZJ-u2fQbI/AAAAAAAAAnM/fYM5ouDxgGE/s320/Jumping-Cat3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329528551116849586" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">My sewing skills are pretty bad. I'm getting better, but it doesn't come naturally to me. Also my sewing machine came from the garbage :)</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">This is what i have so far. It seemed to need something more, so I added a dot in the middle. Also, making it only two per pattern allows me to print it on standard paper at a higher resolution. I'm working on another cat one now.<br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-69737320438398859702009-04-26T11:44:00.007-04:002009-04-26T12:18:41.823-04:00Porno Comedy Show<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_0ghMLF7OTQPEhRJPsiwrm5pEQ3i6_ioAeXoRytjmAC17Ixtc7ZmbJtyYnsdASnQGgH32cKpC-L4w4Dz4CJYwOaJKrtR_d-LDlvhOotkaAdkjF_od1nz1PCeYwq8DIpcvq8K4RkE8JRV/s1600-h/Food+Blog+018.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_0ghMLF7OTQPEhRJPsiwrm5pEQ3i6_ioAeXoRytjmAC17Ixtc7ZmbJtyYnsdASnQGgH32cKpC-L4w4Dz4CJYwOaJKrtR_d-LDlvhOotkaAdkjF_od1nz1PCeYwq8DIpcvq8K4RkE8JRV/s320/Food+Blog+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329027557727022114" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I read about this night on BlogTo, and by the end I was sad to learn that it would be the last one of its kind. It was a blast.<br />The premise: the internet has killed the porn industry. The video store is closing its porno basement and selling everything off for 5 bucks. Come see a sexy comedy show and perhaps take home a souvenir.<br />I enjoyed every act.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The whole room was pink-tinted. We ended up near the bj section, j</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ust behind the gay pr0n area. The bum stuff was on our right. Strangely, it managed to not be that awkward. But I have to admit, that when I picked up the movie on the top row, far left, I co</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">vered the penis on the cover before reading the info. I didn't even realize that I did it.<br /><br />All the comedy was sex-themed. I am clueless enough that this was not obvious to me. One of the first acts w</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SfSD1G01afI/AAAAAAAAAmk/f1oGraNUpGY/s1600-h/Food+Blog+020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/SfSD1G01afI/AAAAAAAAAmk/f1oGraNUpGY/s320/Food+Blog+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329029207474661874" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">as a g</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">irl</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> group, sort of a musical acting comedy tr</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">oupe. When they walked on stage chant</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ing about 'yoni power' I knew I was going to love them. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">They need to come up with a long-form of their a</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ct and turn it into a 'Best i</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">n Show' type movie. They did some great bits about their first sexual experience, complete with chanting in unison and grand, wavy vaginal gestures. Good girls!<br />I didn't get a picture of all of the pe</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">rformers, but the opener was great as well. She was incredibly crass, and made a great joke about preferring the taste of vegetarians.<br />Next up was Jimmy Hogg, who I imagined would be a 200lb trucker. Instead he was a musical brit who sang about his platonic love for children. The sentiment I remember liking most was<br />'We'll play a g</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dXh5lt60rAB5qDvGaQe-PsFwHYpBBUchkoo4QexHsg3wH6nF-Bcif5663zrnGSvhWRIHHjAmytBaoFqIIlTk7GuI1nl6Z2jLcNB6zzg1Zpo6a-PiV6mobf1p1KpsV1ti0G7oc4rJrwFc/s1600-h/Food+Blog+021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dXh5lt60rAB5qDvGaQe-PsFwHYpBBUchkoo4QexHsg3wH6nF-Bcif5663zrnGSvhWRIHHjAmytBaoFqIIlTk7GuI1nl6Z2jLcNB6zzg1Zpo6a-PiV6mobf1p1KpsV1ti0G7oc4rJrwFc/s320/Food+Blog+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329030626536678114" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">ame and the winner gets ice cream. Unless I win, and then we'll both get ice cream, but </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">I won't win, I'll let you win. But I won't let you know that I let you win'. I yelled something while he was on stage, instinctively tried to contribute to his joke (yes, it's possible to forget that comedians really <span style="font-style: italic;">don't</span> like it when you do that) but he took it in stride.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBuMLIOUcQ9QSalaxoI27KZ7AEgYx68S5BdRxheYH_m_DJoTQBWHnfzAJtq5pZLugsz7mA54MOFXlrb7nPJwoIqn-hxkI0SJe6PS112TpbeLTE6XO-CHoYxX-oogTANtGfc8FjD260kISD/s1600-h/Food+Blog+022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBuMLIOUcQ9QSalaxoI27KZ7AEgYx68S5BdRxheYH_m_DJoTQBWHnfzAJtq5pZLugsz7mA54MOFXlrb7nPJwoIqn-hxkI0SJe6PS112TpbeLTE6XO-CHoYxX-oogTANtGfc8FjD260kISD/s320/Food+Blog+022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329032150667045202" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The most memorable acts of the evening came at </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">the end. First, a woman with her 'dance partner' Gerard - A dummy with her hand under it. She did an incredible job of using her right hand to seduce herself, and ended up getting herself drunk and passing out 'in his arms' (after showing a fair bit of garter-clad thigh).<br />The grand finale - the adorable and hilarious host did a dance to what he proclaimed to be his 'coming out' song from the nineties - the most glorious of dance tracks, '<a href="http://hypem.com/track/566246/Bizarre+Inc++-+Im+Gonna+Get+You+Original+Flavour+Mix">I'm gonna get you' by Bizarre Inc.</a> He did this dance in shorts, totally balls-out.<br />Combined with drinks with Deb, a stellar night.<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-34809547961451439872009-04-22T23:05:00.002-04:002009-04-22T23:19:15.346-04:00Is there any better reason to be full of joy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/Se_b8r4lqbI/AAAAAAAAAmM/sEenk69n1JU/s1600-h/2320549366_3e760e1738_o.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bUXYU2VO4PU/Se_b8r4lqbI/AAAAAAAAAmM/sEenk69n1JU/s320/2320549366_3e760e1738_o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327718719821294002" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;">Than the sight of cats jumping through hoops?<br />This is a shot in the Inle Lake Monastary in Burma-Myanmar, where they train cats to jump through hoops. Let's go?<br /><br /><br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207522737737050263.post-39696795179769362632009-04-19T21:31:00.003-04:002009-04-19T21:42:39.118-04:00Eating for two?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheX9ADbjOMmyS8a3KMXD8O3C_5KIT6M66vuRvVJaYKS1M0b5jxkEx4hRps_vqMDU5JY_B8fjqgefkbAcoPWr2Z90R96s8v2eJutUmV09qJLiwmmfx_o4nXUJQuo8WUe_IYob1CfV5ba8dP/s1600-h/2699537523_4e2d2e71eb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheX9ADbjOMmyS8a3KMXD8O3C_5KIT6M66vuRvVJaYKS1M0b5jxkEx4hRps_vqMDU5JY_B8fjqgefkbAcoPWr2Z90R96s8v2eJutUmV09qJLiwmmfx_o4nXUJQuo8WUe_IYob1CfV5ba8dP/s320/2699537523_4e2d2e71eb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326580670341931058" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">No, not <a href="http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla%3Aen-US%3Aofficial&um=1&sa=1&q=eating+for++two&btnG=Search+Images&aq=f&oq="><span style="font-style: italic;">that</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></a> kind of eating for two.</span> <span style="font-family: verdana;">I ordered from New Generation Sushi after a long day of disassembling furniture, cleaning and moving mattresses in preparation for the new roommate. When I got my order home, I noticed that it had two pair of chopsticks in the bag. They must have assumed that due to the volume of food I ordered, I must be two people</span>. <br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">All of this home preparation is strange and new for me. Up until now, no one else here gave a crap about the apartment, and I was the last one in. I wasn't about to take responsibility for making the place look better or keeping it super tidy if I was going to be doing it all alone.<br />But now that I'm the senior roommate (wtf...am I in goddamned college or something) I feel more of a sense of responsibility for the place. Now I do things like buy tablecloths and clean baseboards instead of wake up hungover and crawl to brunch.<br />On a related note, I got very down after going out with people from my faculty. Not only was I terrible at making conversation, but I found only one or two of them remotely interesting or friendly. I biked home drunk, huffing and puffing and feeling like a big boner.<br />Should've <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Pool_%28film%29">gone to a movie instead.</a><br /><br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05338469688870149610noreply@blogger.com0