Monday, January 30, 2012

Rest In Peace

On Saturday night, my Omi passed away.

I talk a lot about my German traits, but don't often tell of  where they came from. I guess that would partly be from my Omi; my dad's mother. She was a feisty one, and had a certain way of voicing her negative opinions that everyone kinda came to expect. That was just Omi.

But as I sat here at my desk on Sunday morning, crying over the news, the very things that we may not have considered her best traits suddenly became "the things she'll never do again". And I automatically missed them. She won't be telling me that my hair is too dark, too light, too long or too short. She won't critique my boyfriends based solely on their appearance. She won't pick a favourite between me and my sister, only to change her mind the next time we saw her.

These were the things that drove us crazy. And somehow... I miss those things greatly.

In the end, it was hard to see her worsen in that bed over the past couple of years. Her spark was gone. She didn't even tell me I was wearing too much black or that I was too pale - she rarely knew who I was anymore. I was merely just a friendly stranger who would visit, say "Love you, Omi" and kiss her on the cheek. Nothing more.

Sometimes the end is for the best, and we rely on the good memories to keep people alive. For me, I'll remember the times when I was little and she'd sing German songs. Or how she always let me hold the pretty crystal that I was so sure was worth a bajillion dollars. And I can't help but smile when I think of how she told me that I had to marry the Prince of Monaco (pronounced mo-NAH-co, of course), or maybe that nice-looking Leonardo DiCaprio boy because he visited his German grandmother every weekend. She also liked to ask if I had posters of Rick Springfield up on my wall, and if I was yet dating my fun (also gay, though she begged to differ) friend Kevan.

It's these memories that I'll hold onto.


Rest in peace, Omi.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Deaf And Blind And Dumb & Born To Follow

On Wednesday, I unexpectedly got a message from my new hero, Tristan.

Knowing that I had been none-too-happy about missing out on Tool tickets, and then was too broke to buy them from someone afterward, he asked if I wanted to take his tickets because he couldn't go.

Uhh... YEAH I DO.

So instead of sitting on my ass at home as planned, watching Californication and Shameless, I was off to finally see Tool. Kapow.

My pictures... not so good.


And my phone died right away. But whatever, I don't care. I was entranced by Maynard. And we were at a fun angle as far as the light show goes... I think Matt got some fun video of that.


Partway through, a group of big dudes came along and kicked out the people beside me for being in their seats. Lucky me, a 300 pound guy ended up beside me instead. A very, very drunk 300 pound dude.

We were pretty high up, and I'm really afraid of heights. This guy is all over the place, dancing, swaying, and looking like he was going to fall over and drag me with him.He kept elbowing me in the boob with his drunken movements, so I had to tell him to stop.

The guy was a mess. At point point he decided to call his girlfriend. His side of the conversation was something like this:

"Baby...baby... I love you. Baby, I can't hear you! Baby... I'm at Tool. You're the only girl for me, ok? I'm sorry, baby. You're the only one. Baby... I can't hear you, but I called you from Tool. Baby I love you. ....baby."

Mmhmmm.


After Tool played 'Sober', the guy turns to me and Matt and yells "That is the truest song ever made! It's true for moms, dads, kids... it's the truest ever!!!"

I said "Because children should not be sober?"

"No man, it's more than that! It's so true... like how a kid might see people who are drunk...." and then he mumbled some stuff. Who knows.

That was roughly the part where his drunk friend on the other side of him grabbed me and told me to switch places with the guy beside me. Apparently they decided that I was single, and I must therefore mate with Other Drunk Guy.

No. I'm good, thanks.

So while the large drunk guys were amusing/frightening, the show itself was awesome. Very glad I got to go.

Thanks Tristan - you're the bee's knees.

And for anyone that wasn't there.... watch this. Same concert in Reno: the full show:



And no - I wasn't "that girl", and didn't wear my Tool shirt.

Happy Friday, folks.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Doesn't Mean That Much To Me To Mean That Much To You

My Facebook page lists 'staplers' as one of my favourite things.

People have asked if that's actually true.

Well... yes. Yes it is.









And yes. Yes I do have your stapler.

Swingline or die.

Monday, January 23, 2012

I Assassin Down The Avenue



Earlier today, the always-awesome Nick brought up a topic that I've been in many discussions about through the years. Hell, it even came up on here once or twice.

It's the importance of musical tastes in relationships.


Do partners who have similar tastes in music have a better chance of lasting?

And do most of us pick partners with the same tastes - is it a make-or-break issue?


For me personally, yes.

My long-term relationships have all been with guys who liked at least a good portion of the same things I did. One ex appealed to my metal side. Another jokingly(?) nicknamed me "rock pig", but we shared a love of music in general and had a great time at concerts. My eclectic tastes can sometimes make this easier - I'm pretty varied, and if a dude can introduce me to new sounds to love? Perfect.

But if there are no similarities in our tastes.... if he's not someone I can go to live shows with, blast my songs in the apartment for us both to enjoy, or he mocks my choices because he has shitty taste in music (by my own damn standards, of course)... then it will not work.

Trust me. I've tried. (Sorry 'new gangsta rap', dude. You didn't know who Neil Young was. G'bye.)


Am I alone in this way of thinking?

I know many couples who perhaps aren't as music-obsessed, and their tastes are extremely varied from each other. And yet, it works. For them.


What about you, reader-folks?

Can you (and would you) date someone who is your musical polar opposite?

A Monday thought for ya. Discuss.

Friday, January 20, 2012

I'll Wake You Up When This Is Over

As blogging takes a backseat to business, allow me to bring you on a trip down memory lane (although, since it's Masuka-related, perhaps 'mammary lane' is more appropriate).

Long before Daisy, brunette-life and singledom, I met Masuka at the Proud FM Christmas party (prior to my actually working there). He asked me to come in to voice some commercials for him - my first time ever doing so - and then he sent me a clip of my horrible bloopers.

I posted this in 2008, but randomly came across it today. Oh, the memories...

(Mom, ignore the f-words. I said fudge. Mmm... fudge.)




I am the very picture of elegance and grace.

Happy Friday, pigdonkeys!



Tuesday, January 17, 2012

She's A Diamond That Wants To Stay Coal


When I go out, I often forget to take photos.

And when I do take them, they're usually left on my phone and forgotten until weeks later.

So I decided to take a gander through my random shots - because the whole point of pictures is to remember those nights and capture moments (which usually consist of me being an idiot).


Like my absolute giddiness to be holding Masuka's bowtied dog, Oakley.


And the booze wall at my buddy's unnamed-yet-kinda-named bar at 1602 Dundas W.


Without a picture, I may have forgotten about the dude who made me try to do The Worm, yet another night at the nameless bar. 

(I didn't succeed. It was push-ups all the way).


And, ok... maybe I just have a vast collection of photos from random nights at my friend's bar.

But years from now I may look back and say "Aw, remember that bar? What was it called again?" and there'll be no answer. See? Memories!


Why did I take this?

Who knows. Possibly to show that I'm good at multi-tasting, or that the Raptors are good at losing. A random moment in time.


This photo serves as a reminder - when I was young, I thought this statue-holding-lady was actually Susan Sarandon.

It may be because I was watching Little Women at the time, but it took years to convince me otherwise.

I had forgotten until recently.


Photos from last night at The County General were a must. You can't see it, but Joel's eating a veg dish.

A rareity.


This here blurry goodness is a smorgasbord of  delicious happiness.

And THAT my friends is why you take pictures. To remember the un-shitty stuff and reflect on the tasty... um, I mean awesome... times.


...and maybe some bitchfaced times.

Either way.

You get it.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Picking Apples For The Kings & Queens Of Things I've Never Seen

I know the majority of my friends and readers are musical folks. Some of you play it in bands. Some of you listen to it constantly. And some of you have heard music this one time through these little box-like things that emitted tones and other noises.


Well, I require your help.

A bunch of ya keep telling me to do more video blogs, but here's the thing - YouTube is "all up in my grill" as they (who?!) say.

Since I post music on each of the videos, I get in a bit o' trouble. This is because I have no rights to the songs, though I tell myself I own the rights to everything that was ever created. Ever. YouTube sends me emails that say "You'd better watch those songs yer posting! They don't belong to you, we can take that shit down!"

And sometimes they don't let me publish at ALL if certain songs are featured. Those emails are more like, "Silly bitch, you know that Gordon Lightfoot's record label would raise hell if you put him in a video about what your dog thinks of circumcision. And Black Sabbath would rather piss on your clips about dating than be in 'em. We're shuttin' ya down!" (note: My recollection of these emails from YouTube may be slightly hazy. One can't be too sure.)

So... I need different music. I need an intro. I need filler. I need stuff 'n junk 'n things, or my days of video bloggin' will be done. Yes, I can hear the collective sighs of relief. Too bad. I'm gonna keep posting them, I just need ideas and assistance.

Me & Ziggy Stardust (pictured) aren't quite ready. We're learning.
If you have any ideas of how a shamblin' ramblin' intro should go, throw 'em at me. And if you or your band have any songs they want featured, let me know

Tell yer friends. Use the force.



Wednesday, January 11, 2012

He's Gonna Win Someday

Our favourite neighbourhood perv, Masuka, likes to ensure that I update my blog-o on the regular. So he sent me a bajillion topical emails; I'm posting some of 'em here with answers for my dear fiend. I mean... friend:

You've been brunette long enough, when are you going to go redhead?

My hair was red for a bit. My hairdresser also wants me to go really red... but I feel like everyone's doing that. I like the dark for now. Shutyerface.

Are you still looking for other jobs even though you're so busy with your current gig?

Non. Keeping very busy with current gig. Sourcing clients is, in itself, gig-hunting.

Has Daisy ever not liked a boy you brought home?

Daisy is a hussy. She likes all boys, everywhere. She's only barked at two people in her life, and I think they were drug dealing murderers who stole her puppies and fed her uncooked Brussels sprouts. These are my assumptions.

No.. more.. Brussels... sprouts!

You said Daisy was gonna be the mascot of your company, yet i see her nowhere in any of your company logos... why do you hate her?

Guh. Since when is 'logo' synonymous with 'mascot'? If that were the case, my mascot would be the letters M and H. She's the mascot. It's her company, I just work here. Who's the bitch?! Me, obviously.

Can a dude and a girl ever truly be friends? Don't you feel like any dude you're friends with right now is only that cuz you wont sleep with them and given the opportunity, they would sleep with you?

I blogged about this long ago. And now I feel depressed because most of my friends are male. But I'd like to think that we're all actual friends. Or most of us, anyway. Some of 'em are dirty pirate hookers.

Can you explain why you're so insecure when you're so hot? ...and where were you when i was in highschool?

I'm not as insecure as I used to be. I am what I am what I am. And when you were in highschool? I was in a heavy metal band called "Flesh Eating Death Monsters" and we were touring Europe. But our drummer  left us to start a Christian rock band, and then I ruined my vocal chords in the Glasgow Screaming BitchFest of '99, so... here I am. Hi.

Flesh Eating Death Monster
Did you notice i used the appropriate version of "you're"?

Did YOU notice that I fixed the grammar, punctuation and spelling of each of your questions?

How tempted are you to correct other people's grammar when they talk to you? Like if a dude is hitting on you in the bar and says "I seen this guy", don't you just wanna smack him and be like you're too stupid to date me.

 Yes. I'm liable to hit the dude and steal his beer. It's a problem I have.

I notice you like rock dudes and hang out with a lot of them... and you're a rock chick... but do you have a dirty little secret? Like.. do you secretly like star trek nerds?

I'm a sucker for a hot geeky dude. But hell, I dunno my tastes anymore. I like stuff.

Truth.

By the way, i still have a ps2 and rock band that I've been holding for you for 7 months. When are you going to come pick that up?

Right now. I'm outside your window. Knock knock.

Why are you single?

It's my new hobby. My next hobby will  be yodeling. And after that? Boyfriend-having.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Once You're Gone You Can Never Come Back, When You're Out Of The Blue & Into The Black

We all know that I'm crazy picky about who does my hair. I've had some bad experiences with hair stylists (orange streaks? blonde blotches? Bleached roots? Blech.).

So when I found "the one" in St. Catharines when I lived there, I vowed to never let her go. Why? Because she listens to me, and she is awesome. I always leave happy. And even though I live in Toronto, I still go to St. Catharines to get my hair done. That's loyalty, folks.

My hair appointment over Christmas had to be cancelled, and I had a bit of panic because I was only there for a few days and couldn't re-schedule. "Waddya mean I have to find someone in Toronto? What if they cut all my hair off? What if they dye it the wrong colour? What if they're MEAN?" I've refrained from going to see anyone else in hopes that I'll make my way back to St. Catharines soon and let Sara work her hair magic.

Oh, hello roots.

free gif maker

Yeah. Don't judge me.

So let's call this a Public Service Announcement. Don't let bad hair happen to you... and don't make bad hair happen to others. To you awesome hair stylist wannabes - please. Apply to this. It's a scholarship to the Aveda Institute which means that we, your future customers, will know that yer not gonna screw up our hair and make us cry. Ya dig?

To win, just submit a video explaining (in an awesometastic way) why you are "Born to Style". Winners get the grand prize of full tuition at one of Aveda's top hair schools in Toronto, Calgary, Winnipeg, Vancouver and Victoria. There's also a celeb panel of judges, so maybe you can convince 'em to hire you. BAM.




In all seriousness, please win this. And make the world a better place, one hair follicle at a time.

Cuz that'd be just... uh, super.


Last day for submissions is March 31st. G'luck!

Friday, January 6, 2012

Don't Come Around, I Got My Own Hell To Raise

I randomly stopped at my long-forgotten Formspring account yesterday, and saw a buncha questions I never bothered to answer. So, since this migraine and neck pain has taken over my life and I'd like to refrain from bitching about it, I'll answer this gem from 11 months ago:

How do you expect to ever have a boyfriend that will put up with guys hitting on you and being creepy wanting you and complimenting you online or even in person? Would you shut it down for someone?

 
My Big Mac brings all the boys to the yard...
Hmm.  

Correct me if I'm wrong here, but every girl everywhere gets hit on and complimented at one point or another. So if all men took serious issue with this, they'd be unable to ever date. Right? Right.  

But since you bring up the online/blog aspect of it all, I'll answer that. A compliment via blog comment is a pretty harmless one. It's either a complete stranger I'll never meet, or a friend or acquaintance I already know. Therefore, when an anonymous reader says something creepy or asks me out - it poses no real issue. Obviously, nothing ever becomes of that. So it's nothing for my "future awesome boyfriend" to worry about.  

I'd assume that any guy I ever end up getting serious with will know of all my online crap before we date - so if he didn't like that, he probably wouldn't date me. I shouldn't need to shut it down for anyone at this point. But if it became a problem, or things got too weird... ah, who knows. I'll cross that bridge if it comes, or throw him off of the damn thing.  

A privacy issue is one thing. Anyone who doesn't want to be mentioned or pictured is not. I don't blog/tweet/update about absolutely everything. In fact, most things are kept to myself. (Surprised?) And if you'll notice all the posts where I mention "my friend" or "my buddy" and have no pictures of them? Yeah. It's because either I don't want to tell you too much, or they don't want info made public.
 
"My buddy" is jealous of your comments.
So... to finish answering your question: I'd expect that my boyfriend may enjoy learning about me by reading some past posts, and might like that this type of a site is a great memory preserver, should he wish to be a part of it. Shutting it down because someone compliments me would be the same as being told I'm not allowed to go to bars anymore due to men hitting on me. That's bullshit. I'm a big girl. 

I've dated guys that, at first, wanted their friends to think I was attractive and then later became insanely jealous anytime another male even spoke to me. I'm as trustworthy as you can get, and a one-man girl at all times. If he was smart (and he must be, to date me. Ha!), he'd know that.

There's your long-winded answer. Future boyfriend... please take note. See you at home!

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

You Write The Words, But I Miss The Volume

First post of a new year. Is that some kinda big deal? Nah...

I've been seeing everyone's posts, pics and updates about their crazy times on New Years Eve. My party plans changed after a suck-tastic Saturday full of bad news, sad situations, and a frozen apartment.

So, instead of dressin' up & heading out, I stayed in. A friend came and made me some dinner after fixing my broken radiators (it's lovely to longer be constantly shivering), and we spent the night watching hockey and drinking some beers (thanks to Drew).

There was also some Jaws action. Dunna... dunna... dunna...


Starting the year sober and without hangover is a pretty good way to go. That's a new one for me. Guess I'm all growed up, albeit accidentally.

I also got to spend the weekend with my favourite little guy.

Jack and Daisy are still best friends for life.


And don't tell my foodie friend Joel, but I also celebrated the beginning of 2012 with a delicious Big Mac.

Haven't had one in awhile, and oh how I've missed it.

It's the little things that had to make up for a bad Saturday morning.


I'm not making any resolutions. A new year doesn't have to mark a new beginning - I just plan to keep going with the things I'm doing and gain more personal success as I go. That's not a resolution; that's life done right.

2011 brought some of the changes I was looking for and really needed, so I don't need to bitch about how awful it was this time (you're welcome). This chick's on the right path, and onward I go. Wontcha come along?
 
So happy-few-days-into-a-new-year, folks.

Hope you're enjoying the freaking cold snap that hit us today. I'm not.


...is it summer yet? (Ah shit. I forgot that I wasn't supposed to bitch. Whoops.)

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