you can't stop the music!

earlier in the week i started listening to all of these bands that for some reason or another i had given up due to unfortunate relationship incidences. but then i decided i wasn't going to forfeit partial custody of my music library, so it became the week of taking it back. although it did raise some issues. like why did i ever think it was a good idea to get involved with a guy that i associate with keith sweat's 'twisted'. i don't even think i can blame the fact that it was the 90s. and on a similar note...rancid...i think jerkface can keep them.

today i brought headphones to work cause listening to music on one volume bar with my face crammed up close to the speaker isn't exactly ideal. so now i am BLARING angry girl music into my ears inspired by a relationship crisis of another kind.

on a less bitter note i discovered food paradise last night in the form of a local indian joint i will soon be moving into. plus next door is a deli that sells fancy ice cream. maggie beer is the elderflower paved path to happiness!

i have to go shoe shopping tonight, after much consideration and attempting i have realised that i just don't think there is any way i'm going to be able to wear sneakers (albeit fancy ones) to pauline and ant's wedding on sunday. why did i leave it till yesterday to start thinking about what i should wear. why am i not a regular girl that owns at least 1 pair of fancy shoes. why did i enforce so heavily my assertion that 'if i can't wear sneakers i'm not going' in day to day and night to night life. would it have killed me at some point to keep a pair of heels from my 16-20 year old hey days. or heaven forbid to buy a pair of non rubber based shoes some time in the last 4 years.

mental space

ok i have moved offices, and while it is awesome to be away from the crazy land i previously inhabited the spot i have moved to has come with it's own set of issues. namely the fact that the walls appear to be made out of cardboard. and not the heavy duty packing box kind. we are talking 4 sheet pasteboard. you know, where it kind of gives the impression of being solid board but upon closer examination you realise it's bendy. so i can essentially hear EVERY wood my neighbours say. what's worse is that it's amplified. which in turn means they can hear every word I say. now normally eavesdropping would be fun, but here's the thing. 1. they are boring and rarely talk. 2. i talk alot and with reckless abandon. so job dissatisfaction, the phrase 'students are such assholes', and the words 'previously on veronica mars' (hey, dvds help me to CONCENTRATE ok, white noise people!) are all unfortunately coming through loud and clear onto their sides of the office 'walls'. so i conclude it is really more about offering some sort of mental space rather than a clearly defined physical area. i am almost certain this will lead to my eventual demise in the building. sabotaging team moral apparently does not end in raises.

nor does playing the gossip really loudly. but you know what, beth is rad and sometimes screaming out the numbers 1,2,3,4 is just what you need on a friday afternoon.

i dislike of montreal. almost as much as i dislike you.

i have no hot water

and i haven't since last thursday night. plus my car is broken and i've been told to minimise driving and to under no circumstances turn the air con on. which would be fine in say any of months from march through october. but right now it's 35+ and i park on the street/outdoors both at home and work. my car is therefore some sort of portable tincan sauna. and even with the windows completely down it seems no air can actually penetrate! this is doing nothing for my love-o-summer. or total lack thereof. my car was just in for a service 2 weeks ago...how could they miss this! the phrase 'don't turn on the aircon because something in the engine could explode' was used over the phone. oh and the brakes screech like hell!

meanwhile this valentines day my only appointment is now with my mechanic. and calling him 'my' mechanic is really a stretch as for the life of me i couldn't with any certainty tell you his name. i think it's joe.

i should highlight that i'm not self obsessed and the reason i don't know his name is because my dad has stepped in to help with mechanic issues after watching a today tonight report on how women are getting ripped off by mechanics. therefore 'joe' and i have had no real time to bond. meanwhile i stumbled into a similar situation of ineptness (on my part) yesterday on the phone with a plumber,
PLUMBER: "what's the problem"
ME: "i don't have any hot water"
PLUMBER: "yeah"
(pause. a long one.)
ME:" yyyyeah"
PLUMBER: "well what kind is it"
ME: "yeah i have no clue at all about this stuff, i won't even pretend i do"
(another exceedingly long pause)
ME: "well what do you mean?"
PLUMBER: "what kind is it. is it gas or electric"
ME: "yeah the landlord didn't even know so i've really got no clue".
PLUMBER NOW BUILDS IN A DISAPPROVING/JUDGEMENTAL SILENCE WHILE IMPLYING HE IS VERY BUSY AND HAS BETTER THINGS TO DO.

between the year long construction, the ongoing plumbing issues and the newly established bug problem (specifically of the spider persuasion) i'm really so so glad that i overpay for this crap den.

temperamental princess

diana has been put on a pedestal in my camera collection. she is being taken down now after i realise i have possibly shot the majority of a 16 roll film on pinhole mode. while technically this may be my fault i just seem to have such shit luck with this camera. i'm about 3/4 rolls into it and nothing remotely attractive has presented itself. never before has it taken so long to get the hang of a new toy! when diana stops being a bitch i will post some pictures. hold your collective breath ok.