This Must Be What Dying Feels Like

Today I found my first grey hair. I am a few months shy of 29 years and I find a grey hair. I still don't know how to apply eyeliner. I look at people my age and younger who have made something of themselves. I still want my mommy. And here is this little grey hair, mocking me. Your greatest fear is approaching at a fast speed and you have nothing to show for your time. It seems to say. Do you have something you are passionate about? People use that word a lot to describe themselves; much in the same way they describe a great experience as being "epic." It doesn't really work. There are some though who really do have a passion for something. They love something so much that they devote their lives to it. Usually it's politics. Veganism. Cats. They make for incredibly boring company. Then again, I'm passionless and I'm just about as useless as pants at a party. Alliteration aside, I cannot imagine being passionate about something. To have it, to feel it, to warrant it. I'm basing all this under the assumption that in order to have a passion for something one must be GOOD at it. That eliminates every thing for me. It is important to note that it is not a two-way street; just because one is good at something doesn't mean they are passionate about it; all squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares. At any rate, I suppose I should get back to my purpose in life: to consume and then die.

Just drive into the dust!

I realize it is Saturday and I should have made a post on Wednesday, but I was sick and by the time the day ended I didn't care. I would have posted Thursday or Friday, but I figured you wouldn't care either.

last Saturday was fun. The NLHF Spring Fling Fundraiser found me completely intoxicated thanks to free wine from sponsors and from my friend who bought two rounds. I ended up sponsoring an IV poll for $200.00, which for that money should have my name engraved on it and should have an IV bag filled with gravy.
Then my friend and I went to Paddy's where more liquor was to be had and I stumbled drunkenly in what I thought was dancing. After almost blacked out on the taxi ride back home, I made sure to teeter and fall in car slush in the underground parking, specifically in the oil soaked car slush. I was totally hammered and cared not for my misfortune; I promptly threw up in the toilet, stripped down to my bra (apparently I was too drunk to get that off) and died in my bed.
The next morning I woke up still drunk and unable to drink water. A slice of bread cured that, but upon doing so made note of the curious oil splotches on the carpet.
And my dress is probably ruined.

Other than that I really have nothing further to report. I am sick; fighting off a cold. In some ways its worse than having a full blown one. There is constantly mucus trickling down my throat which causes a funny taste and texture on the back of my throat. I know in my mind only one thing can make this taste go away: sweet things. I would love a Pepsi right about now.

I was sick, like I said, on Wednesday, so I didn't weigh myself until after I got out of the shower. 149.5. I figure minus the half pound on account of wet hair. Although I weighed myself before the shower today and I was the same weight, so that blows.

Hunchback ends this week.
I am very sad about this.

My house is relatively clean. Bathrooms are clean, Living room is dusted and vacuumed, and with any luck will hopefully be steam vac-ed tomorrow.

I finished the first season of Castle last night. It's really...not that good of a show. The acting is atrocious, all the suspects are having affairs. It''s just stereotypically bad. But I feel like since I've invested this much time into it that I should finish what I've started.
Dave and I have recently really got into the show Community. I think it's the funniest thing on television. Best thing since Firefly. I really like that Anthony Michael Hall was in an episode.

Sure is a lot of sand.
I'm kinda hoping to just die of exposure out here before I die of boredom.

What the...

...what the fuck are we doing out here in the middle of the desert?
Someone call the police we need help!

Well, it's been the first week in the Lenten Desert, and I've already sucked Satan's dick.
It wasn't entirely my fault. My lapse in judgment somehow found me completely forgetting that Shirley Temples have Sprite in them. Darn. Well, the religious Christian in me said "Don't finish the drink," but the cheap Christian in me said "Dude, you paid, like six dollars for that. You better drink that shit. And smile, you're in public for God's sake."

As with last year, I intend to update only once a week. Somehow it makes everything seem THAT much more important, so really...it's all bullshit.

Nothing entirely important happened in the first few days following Ash Wednesday. I kinda wanted to murder everyone since I was jonesing for a soda, so like I said, nothing important. Just premeditated murder.
I had to get after Dave a couple of times; he sometimes makes assumptions about what I can and can't eat. Finally I had to tell him that I needed to make that decision, not him. But I know he just wants to help me as much as he can on this.

Saturday morning we left for Edmonton, but not before we spent an eternity in Tim Hortons. I've never been there when the indoor line was wrapped around the Wendy's section. My bagel and cream cheese was mediocre at best, but their smoothies aren't bad. Mine was more of a slushy having opted out of the yogurt, but next time I'll know what to do. The trip was a typical 4.5 hour journey. Potholes, trucks, and absolute idiots risking their lives. Seriously, people will pass on blind curves, up hills, oncoming traffic, pass on the inside, on the shoulder... at one point Dave said "I wonder how much it costs to be Invincible." I replied "Only your life."

I don't travel well. I really don't. You'd think after years of traveling with my dad (13 hours in the car at a crack..who wouldn't love that?), I would be used to it, but combining the weather, the lack of sugar and caffeine, the menstruation and the stress, I was ready to get out of the car at about Wandering River.

We got into Edmonton about 4:00pm, checked into the Sutton Place (best place to stay in my opinion) and discovered that we were starving. So we headed on over to Japanese Village, a Teppanyaki Grill that we ate at in Calgary. Dave's got a real hard on for the steak sauce there, so it was a fair trade: My Hunchback show, your steak sauce. Plus, I like it too, so in a Michael Scott World, it was a win-win-win scenario. I had teriyaki chicken with vegetables and rice. This is also where I had my Shirley Temple from Hell. We had some interesting characters sitting next to us. One group had a "movie buff" with him who enjoyed the works of such fine actors as Keanu Reeves and thought Christian Bale went bulk to anorexic for the switch of roles from Batman to The Machinist. It's actually the other way around, but he didn't believe me. The other group was a bunch of hippies, and predictably one was allergic to gluten. He brought his own Soy Sauce. After dinner, I passed out due to a nasty headache.

Day 2 was mostly shopping. Dave needed dress shows for the evening, and I wanted to pick up a few things to spruce myself up as well. I bought some shoes from Aldo (which I initially almost bought in Fort Mac for the Christmas Party, but decided against because they are nearly impossible to walk in), and some pretty things for my hair. We also made a quick trip to Warp 1. They had some great t-shirts there. I didn't pick any up because the cool shirts were touching the GLee shirts. We had Dominoes for dinner. Personally, I would have prefered Little Caesars, but I don't think I would ever turn my nose up at pizza.
No I would.
Papa Johns. Shittiest pizza on the planet.
Anyway, had LESS than three sliceds of pizza. I had like, 2.75. And breadsticks. That goes without saying.
Hunchback was amazing and I looked amazing. Really, what else needs to be said?
I plan on writing a review a bit later. Or maybe not. I mean what difference does it make?

Came home and passed out.

Sunday morning we left around 11:00am and met friends in Grassland for lunch. It was then that we heard 63 was closed because a truck carrying a house was in an accident. Dave went on the AMA website saying it was down to one lane, so he decided that we should continue on 63 and it would be open to two lanes by the time we would get there. I pointed out that the AMA website is habitually wrong.
Cut to 4:00pm and we're 12 KM south of Wandering River. We're at a dead stop. We move maybe 2 KM in the next 45 minutes. We decide to turn around and take 881 after a friend of ours (who was heading back to Fort Mac and happened to be a few cars ahead of us) saw us and called to tell Dave to turn around. We stop for Subway in Lac La Biche. By now the sun is going down and the roads are like ice. Between LLB and Conkiln, a truck was in the ditch. Fresh, too. Dave pulled over to see if they needed help. Turns out they live by us in Fort Mac, in the same area. They know Brent and they know the people we had lunch with in Grassland. So we give them a lift. It's a fucking caravan going on 881, cars stretched for as fart as you can see, and we're all going 60KM in a 100KM zone. I'm clutching my phone. CLUTCHING it. You couldn't pry it from me. I'm white knuckled and I'm not even driving. Still, I know that we're going to be okay because there's no way that we met these people by chance. There were too many coincidences for something to get worse.
We got home just before midnight. What should have been home by 5 or 6pm.
Dave did AMAZINGLY. Superb driving.

So I guess this blog wasn't a whole lot about food, and I would apologise but I don't own stock in your opinions.

Today I weighed myself, but I forgot to do it before I got in the shower. 150.5lbs. If we take off half a pound for wet hair, that's still 150. So...no change in a week.
Why am I doing this to myself again? I forgot.

Limes? What LIMES?...

...They didn't have any, they don't grow in the desert.

Yes, on Tuesday, I packed my bags and left for the desert.
I arrived at the Lenten Desert a bit parched and my luggage lost. I had a profound feeling of deja vu (My GOD, this grain of sand looks familiar...fuck, I'm heading in circles!)

It's another forty days of no junk food. Actually, as I have discovered, it's forty-six days, because apparently, we don't count the weekends. Yeah. Lent is only counted by week-days. I think whoever came up with that was either the boss in "Office Space" or Michael Scott.

Day 1 was difficult, but not particularly hard. It would have been a bit easier if for the strawberry jam. Strawberry jam has sugar, yet it is not junk food. I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich almost every day for lunch.
We have no bread.
That's one to you Satan.
By the way, love what you've done with your hair.

Today is Day 2. I'm menstruating and I think I'm getting sick. Without the sugar and the caffeine, I feel like a million dollar glass of ice-cold diarrhea.

Tuesday night I weighed in at 154.5 pounds. Wednesday morning was 154.0.
I didn't weigh in this morning because I have more important things to think about at six in the morning like not tripping and falling face first into the bathtub.


What follows are the junk-food stipulations. These are MY rules. Not yours. This is MY desert, and if you don't like the colour of the sand, you can piss somewhere else.
1. No fast food. The exception to this rule is of course things like Subway and...the Subway at the mall.
2. No dessert.
3. No chocolate, an extension of rule #2, but also applies to things like milk.
4. No chips or dip. The exception is guacamole, but only if I make it myself. The reason for this is because I know exactly what goes into it, and the only questionable thing is the salt.
5. No soda. None. Zip. That is my biggest temptation. TO me, water tastes like that ice cold glass of diarrhea mentioned above, only with less flavour. I've had people say that I can drink diet soda or caffeine free soda. No I can't. Because if I did, the point of all this would be lost.
6. Booze is totally ON limits.
7. I can have pizza, but only up to three slices once a week.

There are probably other rules, but for the most part it's common sense.

Last year it didn't seem as hard. Maybe because I was on my own for so much of it that I didn't have to factor in other people.
If memory serves (and by memory, I mean my refusal to look at the past entries of this blog and check), the only thing I really craved was the soda. 44 days to go.
I'm ready to cut a bitch.

In somewhat better news, we're going to Edmonton on Saturday. I hope we have good weather for it. Eating shouldn't be too much of a problem. Oh, and we're going to see Catalyst Theatre's "Hunchback" on Sunday evening. I am so beyond excited. No, really, you cannot even fathom. I could see this show every night. I can't remember the last time a show has moved me so much. I don't think it's ever happened. I'm sorry I missed opening night tonight, but I'm sure it was perfect.
It was always perfect.

Well, this headache needs a nurse.

Until next time...
If I live that long.

Bloody Hell, Where Have You Been??

Well, just finishing breakfast.

Oh it's been a while my gentle snowflakes, but have fear...
...I am still fat.
Or 150.5 pounds skinny as I like to call it. I think the skinny jeans are working. I still look like I'm perpetually carrying twins, but dammit my legs look FanTASTic!

Much has happened since I shouted at you last. All of it true. All of it not really worth mentioning.

I have watched Firefly in its entirety and cannot believe that a)I was so stubborn to not have watched it sooner and b) that the powers that [pretend to] be canceled it. It was the best show written since the Cosby Show. Yes I said it, and I want you to think about it.
THINK ABOUT IT.

Christoph Waltz rang the bell, and like Pavolov's drooling dog, I came running to eat out of his hand. He's probably the best thing about "The Green Hornet" movie. Actually, he's the best. thing.

Glee still eludes me.
Bieber eludes me. As he damn well should. Just keep on walking.

My "job" is still just that. A reason to get out of be in the morning. Although I have cats now, so they let me know that there's a reason to get up. If cats could point...
...then they would, I guess.

Does Sara Larson still work at Montana's?

The phrase "eat a dick" makes me laugh. I think that if you've never seen one, it's even funnier. What does a bucket of limp dicks look like? Little tuber thingies?

Things to cut out of my vocabularly: "Absolutely." "Shit balls" or the variation, "Shit balls in hell." "Punch in the face" or the variation "Punch up the bracket." "Dude."

I think that's good for now. Kept you up to date on all the high points of my lowlife.

Jesus, Before You Take the Wheel I'm Gonna Need to See Some ID

It's been...whoo, let's see: eight months since my last post.
Guess what?
I'm still fat.
I've given up totally.

A few weeks ago I decided to just listen to my body and eat only when I'm hungry.
That lasted a week and I got down to 149.5 pounds. Then Christmas came, and well--you can imagine. Back up to 151.5 but really, who's counting? Who cares? I've grown accustom to my pudge, my little appendage.
Really, when you live it Dirtsville and words like Fresh Produce are completely relative, who can blame me? When you're kitchen is the size of a closet in New York, is there really any wonder?

The last few days my body has been craving tomatoes. I'm thinking I might just go to a grocery store and start chewing on it. Maybe I have a potassium deficiency.

Last time I posted I said I was volunteering at a local "Faith" "Based" radio station once a week. Well I'm still there. Volunteering. Five days a week for 7 hours a day. And some weekends. F-U-N. Not only do I do a lot of the bitch work, but now I have the shittiest show on radio, the Tuesday and Thursday midday show from 10:00am-3:00pm. It's all pre-recorded, which works well for me. Still, it's a big pain in the ass. Each day I need 12-15 thing to talk about, and in Fort McHellHole, the picking are vast indeed. And with it being a "Faith" "Based" radio station, I can't talk about douchebags, liquor, supernatural creatures, movies about supernatural creatures, magicians or illusionists, non-Christian religions, etc. Not because we're jerks, but because of of our fifteen listeners might get upset, and our owner does NOT like confrontation.
Right now I'm actually researching information for breaks so I don't have to take it home as homework, even though I still have to get up early to come to the studio and record it! As you can tell, I'm blogging so...it's going well.

Until another 8 months,
Cheers.
J.

Well, what a bender. Classic.

It's been...a long time since I posted.
Many of you may think that I indeed put myself into a sugar induced coma on Easter, but alas, I did not. No, but if I remember correctly, I had two cans of pop and a chocolate bunny that my mom got me.

So much and yet so little has happened since my last post.
I'm back on the soda, which is really no surprise. I haven't been too much into the junk food, but I DO get chocolate cravings, and being a block away from the Esso quells that. We DO eat take out a lot because neither of us want to cook, and that hurts.

I've been volunteering at the radio station every day now, so that's good. I'm not doing anything really...productive. A spreadsheet here, stuffing envelopes there. Most people would find that boring, but I find that the more exciting the work, the more important it is. And the more important it is, the greater the consequence if you fuck up. In other words, no pressure. Not at all like when I was working at the bank.

We now have Kyle and Lester living with us. With Mother's Day upon us, I can appreciate even more what mother's have to go through when raising children, especially boys. Also, I would like to add that I am very blessed to not only have the mother I have, but also that I am the only one in this house whose mother is still alive. I want you all to think about that. Think about that. I live with three other people. And I am the only one with a mom.

Moving on to the very depressing, let's jump right into the EXCITING!!!
Guess what Dave bought for our vacation? Two tickets to see Eddie Izzard live in Edmonton!!! Isn't that fantastico? I'm so excited. I don't know what I will do when I get there. I think I'll die if I get to meet him. Even if it's in a quick line up.

Let's see, what else. We've seen Kick-Ass and Iron Man 2 in the movie theatre. Both were mediocre at best. I'm sure Dave would disagree, but what can I say. When it comes to movies, I am NOT easily entertained.

As Chair of the Playreading Committee, I've been reading some scripts. So far nothing has jumped at me and said "THIS IS THE ONE!" Still, it's early. I'm not thrilled about my committee; no one wanted to be on it at the official meeting, but no one has a problem joining at a meeting that I'm not even invited to. Not to mention nothing is official, and there are no MEN on the committee. Do I have the right to NOT accept certain members into my committee? I think I should be.

I've been trying to do "Spring Cleaning." My goal was to clean the house as if we were moving out of it, but that's a lot easier said and done, especially if you're doing it all yourself. Let's face it, I just cannot move my bed by myself, and I know better than to ask for help. Anyway, once I get the rest of Kyle's room done (which will be this week while he's at work), I will have the home upstairs Spring-Cleaned. That only leaves our bedroom, the second floor including the kitchen and bathroom, The Living room, the downstairs area and the outside of the house. So yeah. I'm a sixth of the way done. Pathetic, yeah? And with four people living here, the bathrooms have to get cleaned every week. I know I said the same thing a year ago when it was just the two of us (occasionally three), but it's even more true now.
The boys have been very kind to me though, regarding the cleaning. Dave bought me flowers last week, and today Kyle bought me a candle.
OH! I have to tell you what we did to Lester's room. OKay, so Lester is a huge JOhnny Depp fan. I mean HUGE. He's got the gay for him, BIG TIME. I had some glossy pictures of Johnny Depp (back from my days when I had the gay for him too), so I bought some cheap frames, put the pictures in, and hung them up in his room. He got a kick out of it. And they're still up ;)
I wanted to put a Jeff-Goldblum-is-watching-you-pee pictures in the bathroom as well, but I forgot.


Anyway, I've talked long enough about absolutely nothing, so I'll give the mic back.



Cheers.
J.