Thursday, March 31, 2011

We Need New Noise, New Art For The Real People

Porn star names, live childbirth and avocado aliens.

This is what video blogs are for.

Oh, and for the record? I'm crazy about babies and fully plan to have two of 'em one day. Keep that in mind as you watch this. And judge me. Because my brain ain't right some days.



Mortimer St. James, signing off.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

See, The Life I've Had Can Make A Good Man Bad


Every time I talk to any of my Toronto friends since I've moved back, they tend to ask similar questions:

Are you glad to be back?
How's the apartment?
Are you happy?

Depending on circumstance, I give canned answers:

Yup!
It's small, but good.
Sometimes, sure.


But if I were to actually sit down with any of them and answer honestly, it'd likely be a bit different.

Truth is, this move back to Toronto has been a year-long impatient wait. In that time, my "new Toronto life" was built up in my ol' brain a bit more than it should've been. Like it was a new start that would magically erase any and all problems I had. Even my counsellor had believed that.


New start, sure. An improvement? Maybe so.

But it was silly of me to think that I was coming back to sunshine, lollipops, rainbows and vats of delicious beer.

When a person leaves, they become a bit of a novelty when they're visiting. But if they're back for good? They're just kinda... there, for the most part.

So, I'm just kinda here. Thankful for the friends who have reached out, or answered me. Disappointed in the ones who don't, after everything. A lot of my old life here was forged by someone else, and it's a wake-up call to feel like I shouldn't belong the way I used to.

Ohhh, the crazy vagueness I provide you lovely vultures with.


But if anyone were to ask me why the hell I'm back here, or what my purpose is?

That answer is simple.

I'm here to make shit happen.

And so, make shit happen I shall.


In other news that is about as non-related as one could possibly get within the same blog post...

Your fave(?) Shambled Rambler named Kris is today's Woman of the Hour over at GayGuide Toronto.

Check it out here. Do it!


Saturday, March 26, 2011

Prick Your Finger It Is Done, The Moon Has Now Eclipsed The Sun


Last night, my Neil came by for some beers and laughs.


When we get together, shit gets weird. And by that I mean we get weird.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to blame Neil for the Rebecca Black song being in my head all night and all morning. He hadn't watched it and wanted to see it, so... I put it on. People aren't kidding, that crap is catchy.



And thus started the drunken YouTube surfing. An educational experience, as we watched a live childbirth while searching for an SNL skit.

Ouch.


But most of our time was spent watching my video blogs with the closed captioning on. Their subtitle feature is still in beta, so it is amusingly incorrect (especially to people with a few beers in 'em.). Thanks to Nick "NBomb" for the tip!

The following pictures are examples of the insanely incorrect closed captioning on my videos:


Subtitle says:

"Because of the labia fit but I'm pretty sure we all want that"

What I actually said?

"He says that it's a lame answer, but I'm pretty sure we all want that"

Close! But the labia part kinda changes subject matter... Yep. We're talkin' vaginas, folks!


Subtitle says:

"Puny human princess"

What I actually said?

"...to make him a drum set"

Yeah. I kinda prefer the puny human princess, to be honest.


Subtitle says:

"sarcasm at sister some of the originating retarded people single-mindedly sticking backpack"

What I actually said?

"Other than that, I'm sure some of you are just nice, kind-hearted people... and no matter what, you're gonna kiss that guy."

Jesus. YouTube's got some splainin' to do, because that isn't even remotely close. Damn backpacks.


Subtitle says:

"that maggie frozen aggressing innately pata faction cracks."

What I actually said?

"That man is probably gonna grab you. But hey, at least he's not gonna punch you in the crotch!"

Yeah. That makes complete sense to me. Guess I'm an advanced being or sumthin'.

So there you have it.

Grab some alcohol and watch some YouTube with the CC on. You're welcome.


Thursday, March 24, 2011

I'm Hiding Out In The Big City Blinking, What Was I Thinking When I Let Go Of You?

It's finally happened.

The return of the video blog.

8 long and Cobain-ful minutes of cookies, Masuka, dating dead guys, fortune-telling, bitching and squinting at the sun.

Boy oh boy.

The least I can promise is that you'll, uh... have a pleasant experience. Trust me.


Shambled Ramblings on YouTube

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

I Know She's Living There & She Loves Me To This Day; I Still Can't Remember When Or How I Lost My Way

I dunno if it was that damn Super Moon on Saturday night or what, but my last post wins the prize for 'Weirdest Comments Ever'. Take a bow, guys. You earned it.



Sitting at my desk and looking out my window everyday, I see a lot of people go by.

Dog-walking, headed to the park, carrying their instruments to a gig, carting hockey gear to a game, jogging - they aren't sitting at their desks, people-watching like this chick. (But hey, don't get me wrong... people-watching is a lost art that I've truly mastered. You should be proud.)

It kinda makes me think, "Hell. I'm 27 and I don't know how to do a lot of things that I should know."

And so, in my pea-sized yet fantastically functioning grey matter, I've compiled a list o' things I'm determined to learn in the next little while:

- How to skate. I'm a bad Canadian. The first time I put skates on, I fell backwards and fractured my wrist. Got a little gun-shy and only pushed off of my left foot after that. Need to learn properly.

- How to play my guitar. This one's already in motion. My nails are cut down, I've contacted a guitar teacher (and some of my friends have been volunteering for years). Mama's ready to touch some Ziggy Stardust.

- How to cook... better. As a single girl living alone, I tell myself it's ok to live on pasta. My diet consists only of carbs; veggies don't exist. If I make myself learn how to cook different things, perhaps that'll change. (But not bloody likely).

- How to run in public. No, seriously. All these healthy people going for runs past my house at all hours of the day... they're making me wanna try it. And I can't run, so this one's not gonna be pretty. Don't expect video.

What are you gonna learn, huh?


And now, let us all marvel at the beauty and wonder of poutine.

Good day, blogworld.



Saturday, March 19, 2011

Now That You've Found It, It's Gone. Now That You Feel It, You Don't.

The other day on Twitter, I wrote: "Living alone is fucking awesome/lonely".

The amount of responses and messages I got to that was a bit surprising - it's always good to know that other people get where you're coming from. And hey, the "awesome" came before the "lonely". That counts.

But sometimes, on nights that look somethin' like this:


I get bored.

And so, on an evening of such stir craziness, I required entertainment. So I re-activated an old dating profile that I hadn't touched since early summer.

But once the onslaught of messages began, I remembered why I stopped checking it out in the first place.

I shake my head at some of these pick-up lines. They'll surely lead me to drink.


Here are some examples:

"Do u like getting railed for hours???" 

Hell of an intro, dude. Not even a hi, hello, what's your sign?  And you should probably have asked if I dig guys who make duck expressions in their mirror pics as though they were 16-year-old girls discovering Facebook. Also - the picture of your ass? Take it down. Seriously.

"Hey sexiest girl on earth ;) ;) ;)"

So... you're a world traveller? Wink, wink, wink....

"Do you date older men? I have a fast, expensive car that you would look stunning in."

I do, yes. And gosh! Sure, I'll take your car. Thanks!

"Lol Why are you single? Are your pictures fake or something? lol are you really a fat girl pretending to be a hot one? lol"

Lol. Yep. Lol, I'm a fat girl. Lol ya got me, I'm a faker! ....lol.

Chimpin' ain't easy.

Needless to say, there are some good messages. But this online dating crap still ain't my thing. It's way too much work to wade through it all.

I guess I'll stick to real-life encounters with the opposite sex.

How 1999 of me...


Wednesday, March 16, 2011

They Say Every Man Goes Blind In His Heart, & They Say Everybody Steals Somebody's Heart Away

Finally bit the bullet and unpacked my boxes of CDs.

It's kinda like taking a trip through my entire life up to now. Albums, artists, songs... they all remind me of certain places, people and times.

Especially if I stole...uh, borrowed... the CDs from people.


I'm more than well-aware that it's 2011. No one keeps CDs anymore. Everything's digital. (Yep, and they have internet on computers now!)

Yeah, yeah. My computer's filled with a quadrillion and a half songs, too. It's all a pissing contest, right?


But I refuse to part with my CDs. Even some I don't like and will never ever listen to again. And the ones I should be embarrassed to have mixed in with my good ones.

I keep 'em.

Maybe Maynard would punch me if he knew that my Tool CDs were once on either side of the Spice Girls' first album.


And there's a good chance that all Limp Bizkit albums should've been tossed after grade ten. But then how could I throw 'em on and remember how I used to sing the songs a bit too loud and profess my love for Wes Borland?

Come on now.


This is a CD I made for an ex a loooong time ago. All songs were meant to have some form of "meaning". And sure, they did at the time.

But really, I just made a kick-ass mix CD. Which is the reason I somehow (stealthily) managed to get it back.

Why let a perfectly good playlist go to waste?


Another mixed CD circa Grade 9 or so.

Awful left-handed penmanship.

I'll never throw it out.

 

There is nothing better than throwing on a really great CD and enjoying it with someone special.

That's why so many memories are associated with the songs.

It's time to make more memories.



So let's make 'em.


Monday, March 14, 2011

If You Complain Once More, You'll Meet An Army Of Me


Spent the weekend doin' a little CMW-ing. In fact, I saw a band at the Bovine on Friday that I liked so damn much, I went to see 'em again the next day at Wrongbar.

Maybe I also developed a girl crush. Maybe two. And maybe I proposed.

Maybe.


I consider it my first proper weekend back in Toronto. Y'know, one where I didn't just spend all my time unpacking and trying to organize all my crap into my li'l apartment.

I miss seeing live bands at different venues, and forgot how much I dig it.

I have a feeling my concert calendar is gonna get full fairly quickly.



Problem is, I've been so busy that it's been a long time since I've gone out two nights in a row. It was almost sad how tired and old it made me feel by Sunday.

I'm not a spring chicken anymore, guys. The days of going out every night til 5am are so long gone, I can hardly remember 'em. (Blame the booze if you must. I blame late-twenties senility. And maybe that voodoo curse that was once put on me.)

I hope to hell that I'm not getting boring and overly normal.


...nah.

I'm not.


Thursday, March 10, 2011

Where Do We Go From Here? The Words Are Coming Out All Weird

My friend Aaron translated a message into German before sending it to me yesterday. This was the original English message:

Hello, Goetz. I am happy for you that you have finally returned to the wonderful city of Toronto. It's an exciting time. Your apartment looks great. Two decks, for the win!

After the German translation, he translated it back into English to see how messed up it would be. And messed up, it was:

Hello, Goetz. I am happy for you that you are returned in the end to the wonderful city of Toronto. It is an exciting time. Your dwelling regards largely. Two covers, for the victory!

We Germans are angry, and weird of face. Your dwelling regards largely.

So, he changed it into Italian, then back to English:

Hello, Goetz. I am happy for her that she is returned finally to the wonderful town of Toronto. It is an exciting time. Its apartment looks at large. Two bridges, for the victory! 

 ....then Japanese and back to English:

Hello, it is double play. I am happy for you and you shall returned in the wonderful city of Toronto last. It is stimulative time. It is seen your apartment largely. Two decks for the victories!

Thanks to the rotisserie channel and Japanese translation - it is stimulative time.



Ah, it's the little things that make my day.



Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Hey Child, Stay Wilder In The Wind & Blow Me In To Cry

If any of you Torontonians noticed that the atmosphere got a little more "Krisified", I fully take all the blame for that.

I'm baaaaack.


Moved back to the west end over the weekend, hence the brief blogging hiatus. I dig where I live, dig the apartment, dig the 'hood. Lotsa diggin' going on.

I'm still unpacking and organizing some things, so there aren't too many apartment pics happening in this post.


But there's park pics.


And dog pics.


And a pic of me drinking the first pot of coffee I made in the new place.

(Yes, I completely embrace my own dorkiness. You should, too!)


Waffles in the morning sunshine. Aunt Jemima looks positively radiant for a 300 billion year-old lady.


Daisy's a pretty good roommate, minus yesterday afternoon. We won't talk about that right now. You do not want me to see me angry.


This is where I blog from. It's called a desk. There's a computer there. Did you know that they have internet on computers now?

Technology blows my mind.


Salty and Pepper, whose commercials are known to make this chick cry, have found a home in my kitchen. It makes me stupidly happy.


Front deck is awesome for people-watching. Not that I do that.


Back deck is attached to my bedroom. While awesome, it also attracts noisy birds damn early in the morning.

They wake me up and make my li'l hunting dog a bit crazy. Tweet, tweet.


The Lizard King has found a place to live.


Daisies from my mom - they make my desk look a helluva lot better.

It's good to be back, I gotta admit.


Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Have No Fear For When I'm Alone, I'll Be Better Off Than I Was Before


This picture here pretty much captures my week. Messy and all over the damn place.

Ah, the joys of moving. Feels like I just did this not too long ago. But it was almost a year back, which was 6x longer than I planned to stay in Niagara. So we're due.


I have no time to be interesting, so bear with me as I bore the crap outta you 'til I move on Saturday.

Between work, packing, buying stuff for the apartment, etc, etc... I can only make time for sleep. "Interesting" and "fun"  went out the window once "move" became the focus.


Daisy is smarter than I give her credit for.

She sees the boxes and bags, and the moving anxiety is hitting her. It likely reminds her of the last time we uprooted and she's probably pissed at me for doing it again.

Little does she know that this particular move will be awesome for her. (Is it wrong to say "I told ya so" to a dog?)


So after Saturday, you blog-reader folk should expect some new adventures, new faces, new shenanigans.

A new start to a(nother) new life....


... and new rainboots that I bought for High Park trips. Daisy approves.

Ch-ch-ch-changes are afoot in big ways. So s'cuse me while I go pack up my world and prepare for 'em all.



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