Tag Archives: Rod Peter Jr

February 2006

Sexy-Ass Skirt – Thursday, Feb.2/06
By which I mean: today I’m wearing the skirt that makes my ass look especially sexy.

In Other News
I am not tired, and I even woke up at 5:58 am (2 minutes before my first alarm went off), and I think it’s because I didn’t sleep way too much, like I normally do. After work I went for a quick tea break with Liv, and then met Joel at Chapters. We ate nachos and drank booze at the Irish Times (and the nachos were even decently cheesy, since I made a point of requesting extra cheese). Apparently the glasses at the Irish Times are larger than normal, and since I’m just a cheap drunk we were both a little tippy by 6:30. I wanted to take advantage and get my NEW “FUCK YOU!” BARBELL (oh yeah!!!!) installed, but the piercer at Urge was gone for the day so no luck there. (I found my Dream Belly Barbell while out with Jared on the weekend — forgot to mention that!)

Joel had his car so we went to see Nanny McPhee at the Odeon to give us time to sober up. It was Mary Poppins For Dummies . . . VERY heavy-handed with sad little gimmicks that I suppose small children might enjoy. Or perhaps I’m just being patronising.

Anyhoo, once I was home I checked my phone messages and realised that I’d double-booked myself for Thursday (today). That’ll teach me to make plans when I’m half-asleep. So I called Jared and postponed, and now I’m free to properly meet my New Person of the Day, aka Barry (Q’s UVic aquaintance), after work.

Did I mention that I’m wearing my Sexy-Ass Skirt?? Poor guy.

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2nd Good Sleep in a Row – Friday, Feb.3/06
I think it must be these after-work encounters that are responsible. I have to stay awake until 9/10pm, and then I crash, and so I have 8 or so hours of sleep and wake up just before my alarm goes off.

I met Barry yesterday. He’s tall and has amazing eyebrows, so naturally I was weak-kneed from the beginning. And he’s smart and edumacated and funny, and he smiled lots (with pretty man-dimples). And then he kinda stumbled on his way to the washroom and my carefully applied Shell o’ Suaveness cracked . . . clumsiness is infinitely endearing. BUT I am being Good this time and NOT falling in love within minutes/hours/days, dammit. Really, I’m not. I’m going to be Cool and Aloof and avoid any/all untimely expressions of Love. You’ll see.

So I’ve only sent him one email so far today. That’s me, being restrained.

In My future, I See . . .
It’s Nadia’s birthday bash tonight!!! We’re going dancing. I am very excited. I love these girls. And tomorrow is Chanelle’s birthday, but I might not go if it looks like a Couple’s Thing (ew). Also, Joel has invited me to see a play a the Belfry sometime this month, which is exciting – I haven’t seen a Belfry play in a really long time, and they’re usually excellent.

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Making Pre-Storm Lasagna – Friday, Feb.3/06 – 7:50 pm
We’re all just WAITING for the Apocalypse to hit the island. In preparation I bought two bottles of faux vino, rented three DVDs, and now have a big pan of lasagna in the oven.

Nadia had to go to Vancouver today (the ferries will likely be cancelled tomorrow) so our Darcy’s Birthday Bash was cancelled. Kind of a shame, because I felt like going out, but now with the storm swirling offshore I’m kind of pleased to be somewhere inside, safe and warm.

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Shaking My Ass – Saturday, Feb.4/06 – 6:27 pm
Between naps I ate lasagna and watched Mad Hot Ballroom. I love dancing. I suspect I’m neglecting that part of my soul — I did ballet & jazz until I was 18 or thereabouts, and African and belly dancing and swing in university. These days the only time I shake my ass is while doing dishes or semi-drunk at the bar. In another life I would have been a showgirl. But in THIS life I can multitask (hobby-wise) so there’s no excuse for neglecting my ass-shaking self.

So I did dishes in my underwear and listened to Eminem’s Curtain Call, and now I’m loving my entire Eminem collection. I’m going dancing with Liv & Lauren tonight. I can’t wait.

Politics & Playing it Cool
It’s complicated, this whole dating and/or meeting new people thing. I was supposed to hang out with Jared the Carpenter this weekend, and I was supposed to call him today. But I feel like I milked that new-person-conversation cow. Meanwhile, he’s thinking (I assume) that we’re potential daters. And I’m just being a bitch by not calling when I said I would.

(Moment of empathy for)
Barry said he’d call me, and Q says that means this weekend if he’s interested in a date-situation. I am not a patient-waiter sort of person.

So I’m going out tonight. I’m going to shake off all this relationship-anxiety crap.

And maybe meet some new hottie.

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Ugh – Sunday, Feb.5/06 – 10:55 am
If anyone ever says to you, Hey, let’s invent a cranberry-flavoured chip! PLEASE smack them.

I know this because. I had a bag of Miss Vickies for dinner last night, and drank cranberry-vodkas at Evolution. And then puked in the washroom.

Yes, I’ve become a Drunken Club Puker.

I’m so ashamed.

But wowwee, I sure felt better after that . . . and I don’t feel sick at all today. I’m eating lasanga . . . as usual.

So I ended up leaving at midnight (which is pathetic) because I was having a VERY hard time focusing/walking/etc. (And there was the puking incident.) I called Quinn as soon as I was out of the bar, and he talked me to safety until I was in a cab.

QUINN: “And don’t try sleeping on that goddamn loft bed.”

Alcohol is such a tricky tool. It’s so easy to overdo it, and thereby ruin your planned night out . . . to make me feel extra stupid, one of my favourite dance songs came on just as I was leaving.

Whatever. Lesson learned, blah blah blah. The storm’s stopped — I might go for a walk today.

Oh, and weird moment of the night: Liv said my arms looked all toned & athletic in my sexy tanktop. Perhaps eating bowls of lasagna is a strange form of exercise???

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Walking With Ryefield – Sunday, Feb.5/06 – 6:52 pm
Ryefield came over today with a bag of greens from his garden. We tried to lure the bunnies out to sample the buffet, but they were shy. Peter ate some, but only once we were out of sight.

Ryefield was in a vicious accident awhile ago, was in a coma, and then spent months rehabilitating in the hospital. I think I mentioned some of his weird vocabulary side-effects earlier . . . anyhoo, we talked lots over tea, then walked down to Ross Bay and back up. Ryefield’s 32 and stunningly beautiful. It’s a pleasure just to look at him.

And now I’m sleepy . . . also I checked my work email and apparently our ministry was in EVERY major newspaper this weekend, so my morning will be busy tomorrow. I can justify going to bed early.

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So. Whatever. – Monday, Feb.6/06 – 6:52 pm
Apparently this “being cool and aloof” thing works. Barry called me today and we’re going to the opera on Thursday. He said he thought The Rape of Lucretia was a play . . . very cute. I keep wondering why people want to take me to plays, and then I remember that I write plays. So, naturally. Silly me.

Also, I am even being cool and aloof re: telling y’all via this site, since he called at 3pm or so this afternoon, and it’s almost 4 hours since then. Of course, I did have a nap . . .

Anyhoo, I’m pleased. Or whatever. You know.

Peter’s Such a Cutie Patootie
He’s sprawled out on his yellow welcome mat by the porch door, and he’s so lazy that he’s grooming himself just by bobbing his head and stretching his tongue out. No extreme neck movement, no reaching around to his backside . . . how regal.

Speaking of which, Mom sent me a video AND three pictures of Hollis today!!! They tried to feed him non-boob-food and he wasn’t too pleased about that. He sounds like a dinosaur when he skreetches. Also, he says “Momma.” Evy assures me he also says “Aunty Heather.”

Mom called me last night — her and Dad are coming to visit me this Sunday! My first thought (I guiltily admit it) was that I’d have to let them have my bed. I love my bed. Dammit. And then I thought about seeing my family again, love love, et cetera . . . I suppose one night on the couch won’t kill me. I’ll just have revel in my Mattress all this week.

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Everybody’s Away – Tuesday, Feb.7/06 – 6:23 pm
Jessie’s been training this week, and Liv was ill both Monday and today, and Q took a “mental health” day today, so it’s been a very strange few days at work. I miss our foursome gossip lunches. I hope Liv’s normal again soon.

Meanwhile, I’ve been super busy with work, and I’ve been trying earlier hours so I’m a new sort of tired.

Whine whine whine.

Matlock is a Tease
On the weekend I woke up one day at 4am so I flicked channels and found Matlock just as it was starting. Oh, lucky!!!! I hadn’t been able to catch a Matlock episode in months.

So I watched it, battling sleepiness, for the full hour, only to have it end abruptly, “to be continued.” CRUEL. How often is a Matlock fan awake at 4am? Not to mention on consecutive nights?? And there was no guarantee that if I DID manage to be awake at 4am the next morning, that the 2nd part would be the episode that aired.

Sometimes I’m tempted to buy DVD collections of Matlock, Murder She Wrote, and Columbo just so I never have to experience times like this. (Do they even have a DVD collection of Murder, She Wrote??????)

Also
I had a “breakfast burrito” (i.e. scrambled eggs, cheddar, salsa in a tortilla shell) for dinner yesterday. IT WAS HEAVEN, especially after multiple days of (really yummy) lasagna. I love eggs. And cheddar.

I think I might have that again.

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Mid-tv Drama – Tuesday, Feb.7/06 – 10:37 pm
There was shouting and swearing and crying from one of the apartments down the hallway during a commercial break of The Rick Mercer Report, and wow do I love RealLife Drama when it isn’t my own.

I mean — I feel really awful for whoever was hurt and sad.

Then the commercial ended and I un-muted the tv because RealLife Drama tends to leave gaps in the plot and that would have bothered me for DAYS.

Also, Peter’s been spending way too much time on that yellow door mat. I think he’s avoiding me. Or just playing it cool and aloof . . . or his leg’s broken and in typical rabbit/prey style he’s pretending that everything’s fine so I don’t eat him.

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Peter Still Loves Me? – Wednesday, Feb.8/06 – 9:09 pm
I lured him with a full food dish, grabbed him, and clipped his back nails. Which, by the way, were ridiculously long. He did all the usual Bunny Signs o’ Panic: heavy breathing, grinding his teeth . . . but I did NOT cut the quicks or anything like that, and it was fast, and he’s now a little stunned, sitting on the couch. Silly bunny.

BUSY Work
If it’s possible to run around like a fiend while sitting at a desk staring at a computer monitor, that’s what I did. At one point there were THREE coworkers lined up at my cubicle to ask me for projects. I love my job. I’m busy from start to finish, and if it ever gets overwhelming I’m allowed to say HELP ME!! or go for a walk or something. They appreciate the importance of mental health at my office. I like that.

Tomorrow I get to dress up all pretty and go to the opera with Barry. It’s been sunny and beautiful today, and I expect it to stay that way . . . hopefully it’ll be nice enough to wander around Victoria a little beforehand.

I went to Quinn’s after work today to snuggle with Celeste, his overweight lapdog. When Q came home he did situps and Celeste got all excited, and jumped onto his tummy, licking his face. It was wonderful. We had chilli for dinner and now I’m a little concerned that I might have stinky chilli farts tomorrow while sitting beside Barry in a stuffy opera hall. Stay tuned.

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When Can I Stop Being Aloof? – Friday, Feb.10/06
I’ll have to ask Jessie, Liv & Q today . . . I had a great date with Barry last night. He’s so tall. I mean, great. We went to Shiki Sushi for dinner, and tried some new rolls (salmon tempura — strong fish taste, but yummy nonetheless), and drank tea and Barry tried green tea ice cream for the first time ever, and we talked lots. And then we realized it was almost 8 and we had to get cracking over to the Royal. So we did, and had great balcony seats with an aisle for Barry’s freakishly long legs.

Aesthetically-pleasing Rape
I was most interested to see how they’d present a rape scene (it IS “The Rape of Lucretia,” after all) without it being terrible and tacky and traumatic. And until the rape scene I was giggly — operas tend to make me giggly, since they are so FAKE, what with the excessively formal music and flowery narration, etc — but then Lucretia was in her bed and the light was just so goddamn pretty. Purple on faux marble, white silky material . . . anyhoo. And then I really got into the whole experience . . . the 1940’s narrators/chorus mediate between the Roman-times story and the 2006 audience “with eyes that have wept for Christ” (or something like that) and it’s just a great gimmick, theatrically & thematically. Love vs. lust, purity and jadedness, etc. And Barry was holding my hand, so that also made everything better.

How strange, to see an opera about rape on a date.

So the opera ended at 10 or thereabouts, and we were going to get a drink at the Med Grill but it was closed, so we decided to say goodnight, and I GOT SMOOCHED. Oh yeah. So there. I got me some sugar. And it was very very good sugar.

But enough of that.

So hopefully I’ll have more adventures with Barry to report, after this busy weekend . . . I’m going to see a play with my buddy Joel tonight, and eat nachos and drink cider, and tomorrow I’m venturing to Nanaimo to meet up with my parents before they come to Victoria Sunday. Busy busy busy. And with smooch-cooties.

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Laundry, Laundry Everywhere – Saturday, Feb.11/06 – 2:48 pm
I decided to stay in Victoria today and clean my house so my parents don’t have to wade through bunny hair when they visit me tomorrow.

I did laundry early this morning, and since the house drier is TERRIBLE I hung everything up, so my undies are clothes-pinned to a wool line across my living room and socks are hung everywhere else, and shirts are hung up on my loft frame. It’s very moist in here.

I don’t know where the sunshine went, but it’s grey and kind of windy outside . . . hopefully Barry and I will go for a walk or sit somewhere warm and drink tea for awhile this afternoon. This is snuggling-while-watching-craptv weather . . . I don’t know if that’s an appropriate third date. And Q’s off in Vancouver being a sinner and hooligan, so I can’t ask him for moral guidance. Or etiquette, whatever . . .

Anyhoo, I watched Wedding Crashers (the “uncorked” version) just now. It’s so bad. I really wanted it to be a great movie because I’m stuck owning the DVD thanks to my sneaky Columbia House membership.

Last night I saw The Love List at the Belfry with Joel, my UVic buddy. It –

(entry suddenly interrupted by a phone call, a boiling kettle, or something — can’t remember)

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Parents to Arrive @ Any Time! – Sunday, Feb.12/06 – 1:01 pm
See half-completed entry for yesterday below.

I’ve been a schnozzle at updating due to cleaning, sleeping, and unexpectedly long visits with Barry. Sorry about that.

Highlights
Went to Darcy’s to drink and eat nachos with Liv, Nadia and Michelle. Jessie & Jon & friend showed up just as we were leaving for Red Jacket. Red Jacket is shittiest club EVER. 99% of employees have major attitude and make you PAY for it ($8 cover, mandatory $2 coat check, expensive drinks). THIS IS NOT VANCOUVER, DAMMIT. Various flirtatious dramas vicariously experienced via female companions. Barry showed up (I invited earlier) and he DANCES which is stunning for such a tall man. I’ve never met a tall guy who feels comfortable dancing when not completely sloshed (or ever). Very sexy, along with usual sexy-Barry qualities. Took Barry home with me at midnight. Yadda yadda. Barry left at noonish, I ran around finishing house chores. Parents should be here asap. It’s sunny outside. Peter left a poop in his newly-cleaned litterbox that looks like braided black jelly.

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Guilty Admission – Monday, Feb.13/06 – 7:12 pm
I’m eating bunny food.

I was dishing out the pineapple and oh, it looked really good, so I divided it three ways.

Visiting With the ‘Rents
It was a short visit so I miss them! A writing teacher told us to always “leave them wanting more,” and it’s true. We had a long dinner at Swan’s last night, and they kidnapped me from work for breakfast today. We talked about how wonderful Hollis is. And now they should be almost landing in Cranbrook, with an hour and a half drive home.

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Post-Valentines Sleepiness – Wednesday, Feb.15/06
Yawn.

After work yesterday I went home, grabbed my rolling pin, pie crust recipe, and some random ingredients, changed into comfortable clothes, and went to Q’s where I was mauled by Celeste. Celeste is very very overweight these days. It’s leftover pudge from her gluttonous Christmas with Nadia and Nadia’s family, plus minimal exercise due to Q’s laziness, plus . . . I’m not sure. That’s probably enough to explain her pudge. Anyhoo. Celeste and I drove to Safeway and I bought AMAZING steaks, romaine lettuce, etc etc, and then I went back to Q’s and napped until 6pm. At which point I marinated the steaks and started on the pies.

In conclusion: we had an amazing dinner. Guests included Liv, Jessie, Spencer, Lauren, Leland, with end-of-the-evening-visits from Jessie’s Jon, and Barry. My lemon meringue pies (2) didn’t have enough time to cool properly so we couldn’t eat them (Leland tried — the filling was like lemon soup), but the apple one was great. I’d forgotten my apple pie recipe at home, so I invented the filling — and I used Golden Delicious apples instead of my usual red ones, on the advice of the Safeway produce guy. Very yummy. Q cooks a perfect steak, and his Caesar Salad Dressing is the most amazing salad dressing ever created on the planet.

Barry came over to pick me up after his writing class, at about 10pm or so, and we went to my house and he stayed over, even knowing that I had to work at 6am Wednesday/today.

So a very exceptional Valentine’s Day, all in all, thanks to my Victoria Family, excellent food, and a snuggle partner. Hope yours was equally pleasing.

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I Love Thursdays – Feb.16/06
Hollis was born on a Thursday, we go to Atomic Vaudeville on Thursdays, CSI is on tv, and everyone’s chipper because it’s almost Friday but not quite so we aren’t lethargic and anxious about the weekend.

I’ve been very confused lately, seeing shiny cds hung around Olympian’s necks, and used as icons in the newspapers. Is this a new fad, I wondered? And no, it turns out that Torinians/Italians/2006 Olympians are using shiny cds as Olympic medals.

Gold CD = gold medal.

I don’t understand it.

If we’d had a Backyard Olympics when I was a little kid (which we never did because we just weren’t sporty enough — we made Hitchcock-esque films and read to each other) then we might have used chiny cds as medals. (Except that we didn’t have cds then. Dammit — yet another logistic gap in my little analogy here . . .) But grown ups, professional athletes, multi-billion dollar sports ventures using shiny cds as medals????? It just feels wrong.

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Hollis’s First Email!! – Thursday, Feb.16/06 – 2:27 pm
mjn vb k .o 7vv7s rhgd56 7victrx5xcf56686cyf bc jb ,ghvb gvbhjm

love hollis*

* I think Evy wrote that last bit.

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Windy Cold Friday Day – Feb.17/05 – lunchtime
Ew. I walked to work today from Barry’s house — it’s very close, only a few blocks, but wowwee that wind was vicious. It’s so cold out there!!!! I’ve been lusting after Q’s fireplace (and a snuggle with Celeste) all morning.

Yes, so, I went to Barry’s last night. He lives with a roommate, Scott, who is currently in Toronto. They have a beautiful, huge apartment — typical ’70s size, with hardwood and huge windows. And Barry’s room is painted yellow 🙂

The strangest part is the shower — here’s one of the tallest men ever, at 6-foot-four or something, and the showerhead is JUST above my head. One day I’d like to watch Barry try to wash his hair. It must be the yoga that enables him to bend like that.

Anyhoo, this weekend will be very exciting, but not for the usual drunken reasons. It’s the Times Colonist Book Sale!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Over 30,000 books have been donated by my fellow Victorians, and on Saturday Jessie & I will join the ever-present throng and hunt for classics (aka Horatio Hornblower, by C.S. Forester, for Dad). Saturday afternoon I’m watching Liv at her recital, and then I MIGHT (but probably won’t) accompany Liv & Jessie to watch a Doors cover band. Or maybe I’ll rent 1,000 bad movies and gorge on Miss Vickies . . . whatever. It’ll be a good night, I expect.

And maybe I’ll get around to writing some more interesting thoughts — unlike these obnoxious day-after journal entries.

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Weird Saturday Morning – Feb.18/06 – 12:17 pm
Sometime in the past twenty-four hours, the trellis wall on the bunnies’ balcony blew off in the windstorm. That’s pretty impressive, considering that the wall has already survived seasons of Victoria windstorms.

So I equipped myself with hammer, SuperGlue, a hoody and my cell phone (in case I needed Dad’s advice), and went out to fix the problem. Kim, my upstairs neighbour and the bunnies’ GodMother, arrived to help me with the heavier/more awkward bits, and now everything’s back to normal, and relatively stable out there. I’m going to somehow tie the trellis to various parts of the balcony to help it withstand future storms, especially now that it’s been pieced together by ME, and not my Dad, the SuperCarpenter.

And then I checked my work email, to see what’s going on in the world, and one of my bosses had written to ask me if I could throw together a quick media package of all the overnight media (since we’re, as usual, frontpaging it up today). So I worked for a wee while, and now I’m craving dim sum, which doesn’t necessarily follow from work in a logical manner, but that’s how it is.

Also today is the Times Colonist Book Sale. I really want to go, even though I don’t need any more books for myself. Dad’s always looking for more copies of C.S. Forester’s Horatio Hornblower series (that way he can lend them out to virgin readers and get them addicted). But I’m going to watch Liv’s recital at 2:30/3, so I have to work around that.

Anyhoo. A busy and unusual day so far. I haven’t even had a pot of tea yet, since I’m out of drinkable milk. Maybe I’ll go to the Shell station and remedy that . . .

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Clean Dishes Everywhere – Sunday, Feb.19/06 – 11:17 am
Well, everywhere in the kitchen. I love washing dishes. It’s the only time I get to listen to music properly — and I’m all warm from the dishwater, so that’s nice too. I shook my ass to Eminem’s Curtain Call today . . .

I went with Liv, Jessie & Lauren to The Unknown Soldier, a Doors cover band, last night. It was fun — we found great seats, ate a tonne of food that’s bad for us (i.e. onion rings!!!! I love onion rings!!!!) but there was also a plate of veggies & dip so there was the illusion of a well-balanced meal. The lead singer was a lot of fun, although he was clearly disappointed with the chatty audience . . . Liv chugged doubles, and then was shocked back to sobriety by her bill. We left around 11/12, between sets, because Lauren & Liv were restless and wanted to go dancing, and Jessie & I were lame and sleepy. Jessie’s man Jon picked us up and drove me home.

Peter’s Pissed
In other thrilling news . . . Peter’s extremely upset with me these days because we’re out of hay. To demonstrate his disapproval, he:
– leaves poops everywhere;
– chews on inappropriate items, such as the yellow door mat (plastic!) and the pissy newspaper in his litterbox;
– stares at me. (This is the worst one.)
I really need to get some hay today.

Reinforcing the Trellis
In preparation for future windstorms, I want to “tie” the trellis to the rock posts on the balcony. Ideally, I’d like to get some chain, to avoid rain-rot, bunny teeth, and to work with the aesthetic needs of the house. Also, I want to nail on some more supports — to make those triangle-angles that Dad says are strongest. So I need some more wood.

Oh, and I’m Itchy
My skin’s been BIZARRLY (how do I spell that???) dry this past week. I NEVER have dry skin — I sweat too much for that nonsense. And this is Victoria, dammit — ocean humidity and such. So, on the advice of my girlfriends, I have been:
– applying LOTS of moisturizing lotions
– avoiding the loofah in the shower
– avoiding drying soaps
– NOT scratching.

And then I mentioned to Liv & Jessie the other day that I have 3-4 showers per day, because it’s cold in my apartment and I LOVE the hot water, and they looked at me like I’m a moron, and pointed out that there’s a lot of chlorine in that water and that I’m not giving my body a chance to create/use its natural oils.

So I haven’t had a shower yet today, and I didn’t have my pre-bedtime shower last night (which would have been shower #5). I’m going to TRY and survive the day by washing my hair and face only.

I might get smelly.

But I’m willing to take that risk.

And the dishwater made me nice and warm, so I’m not even cold.

Sexy Updates – Rated NNAFR (Not Necessarily Appropriate For Relatives)
Barry’s in Vancouver this weekend, so I’ve got nothing too exciting for you. I have had a number of emails/phone calls from some of my other male “friends” (aka past potentials) but I’m just too apathetic to follow up. I quite like Barry — so we’ll see how this goes for now.

Also, Barry was talking about the “mysteries” of the female body the other night, so I’ve exploited this opportunity to buy him a book called The Lowdown on Going Down — it’s written by a speech therapist and is ALL ABOUT crazy mouth exercises, with also some basic demystification info re: female anatomy. I realise it’s . . . controversial . . . to buy a new snuggle partner a “how to” sex book, but he opened the door, dammit. I’m just walking through.

For anyone out there who is interested in quality sex books, you should know that I am a conneiseur. In my writing classes, the professors always said that the two most difficult subjects to write about are Sex and Death. This is SO TRUE. (Really — try it sometime. And then let me read it, so I can point out to you all the terrible cliches you’ve inevitably used.) So I like to browse sex books and judge how the writers have approached certain subjects, their use of words vs. illustrations, their biases re: female/male stereotypes, their treatment of non-heterosexual relationships, etc. A lot of current sex books are illustrated with sexy cartoons, use urban popculture references (“If you’re willing to spend $7 on a coffee, why not $14 on a quality sex book?”) and are a lot more accessible than older books (that is, they’re funny, open, and there’s less scientific crap that you have to skim over). With this in mind, I’m a HUGE fan of the book I chose for Barry. I read it Friday and it’s brilliant — the best oral sex guide I’ve read to date. I highly recommend it. In fact, I might give you each a copy for Christmas next year.

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Chugging Hot Chocolate – Monday, Feb.20/06 – 6:48 pm
And the Wackiest Weekend Award goes to . . . Liv!!

I wandered over to Liv’s house last night for supper and walked in on the strangest, most fucked-up, inappropriate phone call EVER MADE EVER.

One of Liv’s buddies from Evolution had called and chatted for a fairly long time about the girl he’d taken home the night before, the exceptional (albeit violent) sex they’d had, blah blah blah. And then he asked Liv out on a date.

Really.

Men constantly surprise me . . .

Barry Musings
Most of you know about my problem re: falling in love with complete strangers I see through the bus windows/etc. So this time around (i.e. meeting Barry and our subsequent dates) I’ve been trying this new thing called “Playing it Cool,” which means essentially that I do everything the same, except without the constant internal monologue and daydreams about moving to Okinawa together. My Crew advised me to keep my heart protected for this one, so I compromised and wrapped it in SaranWrap, which has been surprisingly pleasant — not falling in love after 5 minutes has led to fewer (aka no) anxiety attacks, heartbreak, sleepless nights, and so on.

Sooooo when do I get to unwrap my heart? When do normal people fall in love? When do dating couples get to be excited about each other? This is all new & scary — mainly because I’ve never restrained myself before (internally).

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Coming to Terms with Wisdom Teeth – Tuesday, Feb.21/06 – 7:35 pm
I think I’ll get them out. I’ve been stalling . . . it just seems so unnatural to have something removed from my body that’s grown in (and isn’t going to kill me).

(Peter just discovered the parsley I put in his food dish — what a happy bunny!!)

Today in the mirror I noticed that my front teeth are buckling. Barry told me about that particular Wisdom Teeth side effect. So I booked a “consultation” with an oral surgeon after my dentist check up this afternoon, and in March I’m getting proper xrays taken, and then I’m getting the bastards scraped out of my gums.

I think this will be okay. Thank god I have a sweet ass dental plan through work.

Food, Food, Glorious Food
And then I went grocery shopping. I have SO MUCH CHEESE in my fridge . . . two blocks of swiss, one cheddar, even half a block of mozzarella . . . and lots of veggies. It was extra funny, buying carrots and parsley, sprouts & salad greens & celery & a cuke, AND A BAG OF RABBIT FOOD. Ha. Irony. Or something.

Also, I did my income taxes last night (started to — didn’t file them or anything yet), and I get a refund of $692. Yay!!! Even better — today in the mail I got another T-whatever form, for the interest I’ve paid on one of my MANY student loans: it’s more than $1000. I don’t know how that works out re: my tax refund, but I like being able to claim it. It’s the illusion of not just sending hundreds of dollars into some vast student loan void . . . I get a sexy piece of paper with an amount on it at tax time! Yippee!

I think that’s most of my exciting news . . . the government tabled the budget today, which means a VERY busy day tomorrow. I’m going to throw itchy-skin caution to the wind and have a hot shower, then go to bed and do Sudoku puzzles until I fall asleep.

Also, Barry’s back from Vancouver now, so I’ll get to see him again soon 🙂

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Wasted Sexy Undies – Wednesday, Feb.22/06 – 10:26 pm
I THOUGHT I would get to see Barry tonight, but apparently my emails weren’t clear enough because he thought our plans were unconfirmed, which led to an 8:30pm conversation that sums up all my displeasure with men & relationships:

BARRY: “You can come over, if you want.”

Um, no. I’m something to be wanted. Asked for. If a man is away for three, four days he should want to SEE ME ASAP. I don’t do last minute, half-assed house calls.

So I’m still here, at home, watching murders on television and swearing under my breath.

I’ve Stumbled into Heaven – 7:41 pm
Monty Python’s Personal Best is on tv. Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod. Also, I have a bottle of blackberry faux vino in the fridge. All I need is a tall sexy man to smooch.

Worst Experience Ever
I can’t believe I forgot to mention this yesterday — it was a traumatic incident . . .

When I got my teeth cleaned they used a mint-flavoured polish, which is really gritty (I guess it sands the enamel or something??). And then, of course, I rinsed a lot and fluorided and rinsed. But when I was waiting for the bus after grocery shopping I bit down and a grainy chunk of minty polish EXPLODED between my teeth. Sand everywhere. Disgusting foul mint-taste everywhere.

I almost died.

Still makes me shake, thinking about it.

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PMS + Alcohol = Exercise, Thursday, Feb.23/06 – 8:12 pm
So it got all snowy and grey-skied and snowy/rainy, and instead of going for a walk Barry and I drank beverages at Serious Coffee. (I confess — coffee for Barry, a to-go cup of faux wine for me . . . I was hoping it’d calm me down somewhat.) And mid-coffee date Barry got a phone call and planned something with someone, which I later learned was post-dinner socializing at the Tapas Bar with his friends Dave & Noah.

Which, of course, made it impossible for me to bring up the whole sleepover idea.

(I’m tired of being the sexual one. I think these are Dad’s cursed genes. Certainly, it’s unladylike of me.

Anyhoo.)

And so I said, um, so, I suppose that means you’ll be running off soon, and he said Well, I can do dinner, if you want to.

Yay. I’m a time-killer. Like tv.

So I said, No, I’m not a Better-Than-Nothing time-killer. Also, I’m cranky and I think I should go before I start a fight with you.

And then I went home and drank the rest of the faux vino and danced for almost an hour to Eminem in candlelight.

I’m afraid to turn off the Eminem — I might lose it.

“Lose it.” Ha ha. That’s an Eminem song.

Men are undeserving fuckers (sorry, men) and I’m tired of y’all. Wish to god I could be a lesbian.

Instead, maybe I’ll be a writer for a wee while. I’ve heard good things about that.

(Also — lesson to you men who clearly don’t know shit: Make Yer Woman Feel Wanted and Special, or She’ll Ditch Your Lame Ass.)

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Coming to terms with PMS – Friday, Feb. 24/06 – 4:32 pm
I’ve been a moody wench all day. I’m trying to repress that, and look forward to a comforting evening with Barry: a walk ‘n’ talk, and hopefully a sleepover if I manage to control my bitchiness.

I have good friends, because they:
1. listen to me whine and complain and moan; and then
2. they tell me to stop it, because I’m just being moody.

This Saturday is Atomic Vaudeville’s launch party for The Qualities of Zero, which will be playing at the Belfry theatre in March. My guests and I will be dressing up for the event. I hope I can still sort-of zip up my sexy faux fur coat . . .

It’s been sunny and not-so-chilly all afternoon, and I really want to wander around outside. Hopefully Barry will be able to venture out before it gets dark.

I’m going to drink some vodka now — my inner wench is starting to pout.

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Chilly Apartment – Saturday, Feb.25/06 – 7:44 am
No wonder I have too many showers/baths in a day! It’s freezing in here, and I’m in . . . three layers of PJ-wear!!!!

Anyhoo. Drama.

I was still pissy mad yesterday after the whole Barry’s An Insensitive Twit episode, so Liv & Jessie Q took me for sushi at lunch, and then I went out last night with Liv & Lauren. And we danced and danced, and chatted up boys, and gave out phone numbers (well, I did — they were busy canoodling their evening candies), and drank double vodkas, and looked FABulous (as Lauren would/did say). I spent a lot of last night talking with a sexy 21 year old I know from Invermere but keep not recognizing (most of my memories are from his awkward teenage years — Aaron’s a friend of my brother Joe). Aaron’s looking pretty good these days. It’s weird talking to someone who knows my family — I updated him on Hollis’s creation, Evy’s domestic paradise, Joe’s quasi-illegal (age-wise) live-in relationship, Mom & Dad, blah blah blah. Apparently when he was a young’un I showed him how to play The Offspring’s “Come Out and Play” on the drums, and now he’s the drummer in a wee local band. I feel like a teacher, discovering she’d made a difference 30 years after retirement. Heart-warming, truly.

After doling out phone numbers to a birthday boy (who kept telling me how much money he made, that he owned a house, and that he sold drugs for four years — yippee) and a shy little army brat, I was hoping Aaron would lose the family reunion approach and get flirty (I know — young and incestuous, but he’s looking VERY good these days) until he said:

AARON: “Wow, you really look like your dad.”

So then I got hiccups and went home. A fun night, nonetheless.

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Stumbling Drunken Musicians – Sunday, Feb.26/06 – 9:44 am
Nadia, Michelle and I went to Atomic Vaudeville’s launch party for The Qualities of Zero last night. VERY schmoozy . . . I met all kinds of interesting people, from Britt’s mom Carol to Brad Payne, a Calgary actor and producer of The Headless Cowboy.

Mike Delamont and Rod Peter Jr. helped amuse my galpals with their sexy banter, and after the party (full of quiche and Real Wine) I walked with them until I reached home. (Nadia and Michelle went dancing at Plan B.)

Highlights of the evening include: a tall, single guitar player who was the target of our girly gossip until he got stupidly drunk and couldn’t stand up. We made him sit down, and he sat quietly for awhile, but then stood up and managed to knock over the table of quiches and glasses of red wine. Those musicians . . .

Meanwhile, I met some great, interesting people . . . Paul Anka (that CAN’T be his correct name — I think that’s a folksinger or something) is a wealthy Texan who “discovered” Mike & Rod during the Fringe Festival. He owns two or more condos on the Songhees, one of which is all hardwood floors and a wall mirror where Rod & Mike rehearse daily. The other one is carpeted and lush, and he leant that to the launch party. Mike & Rod are going to New York sometime soon to film a pilot and start a tour. I REALLY want to be part of their laughtrack. We’re working out the technicalities.

I talked for awhile with Brad Payne, who is SuperSmart and (I think) even got all my jokes. Very refreshing. It was especially fun talking to him while the drunk musician was . . . weaving? is that the right word? . . . in his chair. Brad would say something clever, I’d respond, and then the musician would weave a little and Brad would look at me, and say something else.

Also, there was a cheese plate. I LOVE cheese plates. And brownies. And some other food that I didn’t even bother trying because the cheese plate and brownies were so good.

Writerly Talk
Britt reiterated her GENEROUS, WONDERFUL, TEASING offer to stage a reading of one of my scripts in March/April. We were talking about possible scripts, and I’m concerned that Mary/Mary (aka “On the Rag” — hahahahahahaha) is unaccessible to too many people, even though I love it and think it’s brilliant and could change the world if rewritten & presented properly. Alternatively, Britt was talking about developing a script from a starting idea, which would be SO HELPFUL to me, to be able to finish BitterScripts. I love that opening scene, and I want it to go somewhere.

Anyhoo, we will see. Maybe I’ll be inspired by some new idea this month . . . although it’s so hard to think of anything beyond work (coroner’s inquests and director’s reviews and that sort of thing).

And a Little Bit of Boy Talk . . . Just a Little Bit
I haven’t communicated with Barry since the Thursday incident. Here is what I think about that, in no particular order:

  1. This probably means I was right, and he was losing interest in me or had found someone else, and just couldn’t express it properly. So c’est la vie.
  2. He thinks I’m a crazy moody beast after being so pissy on Thursday, and he’s either scared of me now, and hoping I’ll just go away, or waiting for an apology (which he will never get because I was right in reading his “signals,” even if he didn’t mean to send them).
  3. He intends to wait out my mood, which of course is a bad idea since I’ll just get used to not having him around, and my tempermental short-term memory will delete him entirely. And/or I’ll find someone else.

That’s all I’ve got about that. Is it right to think that if a guy doesn’t “fight” for you he’s not worth it anyhow, since he:
a.) doesn’t care enough, and/or
b.) is a pussy?

Men? Any opinions on this one? Your people are SO STRANGE AND MYSTERIOUS.

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Daily Epiphany – Monday, Feb.27/06
I’ve become jaded in love. How the hell did that happen????? I’m the one who has to keep my heart in SaranWrap so that I don’t lose sleep over random men at Chapters. BUT thanks to these past few years of dating pussies + my Mom’s undying affection for that crap book He’s Just Not That Into You I’ve become sensitive to rejection. Which is weird. It’s un-Heather-like. I’m a self-absorbed, cocky wench — I expect everyone to love me. Where did I go wrong????

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All Dressed Up – Monday, Feb.27/06 – 6:31 pm
One of my most favourite activities ever is getting ready to go out at night. I listen to my favourite music (not just Eminem!) and get to play with my Drawer o’ MAC MakeUp and wear pretty things that are inappropriate for work or weekend brunch.

On a Completely Unrelated Note
I was asked today what the protocol is for those of you who don’t want to be the subject of this website, but who want to spend time with me. I’m not entirely sure. I will think about that one. Fake names and codes wouldn’t work too well, since y’all know who these people are anyways . . . I suppose I could speak in metaphor . . . um . . . I’m just not too great at keeping my big mouth shut. Especially about things/experiences that directly affect me.

Anyhoo, I’ll see how that works out in my mind . . . stay tuned for some really really subtle codes. Or not.

And Hey, “Torrible” the Comment Leaver!
You aren’t supposed to know about The Mint and Syn!!! You’re supposed to be in Toronto, so I can pretend you’re Levi MacDougall, stalking me lovingly. Dammit.

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Peter Says ” ” – Tuesday, Feb.28/06 – EARLY a.m.
Due to prodding by certain prodders I tried to explain the mandate of this website the other day, so here are some thoughts on that:

  1. My New Year’s Resolution for 2005 was to write everyday, but it’s boring & useless & unmotivating & unsatisfying to write when no one else will read it (unless I refine it and make it publishable/produceable). A website lets me feel that others can access & read my shite, and therefore there’s motivation & purpose to the daily writing goal.
  2. I’m fairly righteous and stubborn in my perceptions of the world. I like generalizations, categories . . . “eldest child,” “Aries,” “small-town girl,” etc. But I don’t think this is a healthy way to see the world, so by presenting these assumptions to you I tend to reevaluate them for myself, and also you get the opportunity to argue with me. Which is unpleasant, but ultimately very helpful.
  3. One day I will write something and you will be in it. This is a rehearsal for that experience: you learn to see yourself refracted through my eyes, and I get to learn how to “edit” myself to accommodate people’s feelings & vulnerabilities without feeling like I’ve “sold out” as a writer.
  4. My life is crazy. ALL our lives are crazy. There’s drama and intrigue and bizarre, fucked-up twists that boomerang out of nowhere. If I don’t record this craziness I won’t believe it in 20 years.
  5. In 20 years I can read this and see how self-involved and narrow-minded I was, and feel super great for having evolved into a better person.
  6. This is helping my writing. Not only through the practice of writing SOMETHING every day, but also because I’ve noticed verbal tics, certain limits in my vocabulary, etc. and being aware of these patterns has made it easier to avoid them, and to write well.

Also, the M Awards are tonight!!!!! I’ll be sitting with my favourite AV folks, and I’ve promised to “booh” Brad if he performs his excerpt from The Headless Cowboy for a THIRD time in my presence.