le petit noel

everything was quiet down at the Gingerbread Crack House...



when suddenly, a miracle happened!

santa came...

and brought us presents!


a hello kitty jewellery box!

that would show me the need for a nose job!


something was in the air...


it was time for a revolution!


A DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION!



and he said with a FLASH as he flew out of sight...


merry christmas to all and let's dance through the night!


and god bless us, every one!

is this thing on?

is this blog finally working once again?
i'm tired of typing just to find that nothing displays.
so, back to work.
it's AWESOME.
if you define awesome as sitting next to a mr. k last name rhymes with "locked in". not to mention that my new team doesn't speak to me. as well as being reindoctrinated into the cult. and as i listen to these people talk, i occasionally find myself nodding my head along with them, lulled into submission and agreement. then, later, when the haze lifts, i find myself thinking "what the hell?"
example, everyone who was in sits around spouting this type of dialogue:
"I'm going to the christmas party"
"Oh i'm totally going to the christmas party."
" Are you going to the christmas party?"
"Damn straight. I have a date to the christmas party."

and so on. and the conversation invariably ends with a smug look over at me, as if to say "we're popular. we're going to the christmas party."

it's quite junior high.

u/v

same old same old

same old same old

i want to be a cowboy...

well, i don't, actually. but i am headed to cowtown in but a few short hours for the play reading tomorrow night. get to stay in a swank hotel and hobnob with... uh... well, i don't really know. and my outfit choices for tomorrow night are either (a) kind of slutty looking, and (b) make me look a little sausage-y. i'm sort of leaning towards slutty, but who knows what my whims will lead me to do tomorrow. and just in case my ego was getting the best of me, i had to call this morning to book a ticket for J., and i went through the whole spiel with the ticket agent, gave my name and everything, and at the end of the call, she was like "how did you hear about this event?". and i was like "... uh... i wrote the play?"
so needless to say, i don't think the paparazzi will be hunting me down just yet.
any of you edmontonians who may be following along, there is a reading nov. 11 at 8pm, trans alta lobby (right where the fringe is, and the farmer's market in strathcona).
i have a ridiculously large suitcase that i'm taking to calgary. it's not even really full. it's just that i only seem to own tiny luggage or gargantuan monstrosities of suitcases. hopefully we're not riding down in a mini or something like that... perhaps a mini with a roof rack would be ok.

i don't know what's going to happen when i get back. my temp job ends. the lockout continues. i think this was the one and only voting situation where i felt my vote actually mattered... i voted "no", and considering that the no's only won by--what, like 56 votes?-- i was glad i did. even though it was horrid and disorganized to do it at the last second by absentee ballot.
i don't know how i feel about going back to the line. i'd like to. but i don't know if i'd be welcomed there. since i've been gone for a while, i feel like people will think i abandoned them, or i left them to stand outside for my job while i went and got a paycheck somewhere else. i'm afraid people will think i've been scabbing. which i haven't.
maybe i should just give up and accept that i'm probably never going to go back to work there again. because i am so broke it is a bit frightening.
anyway, that's for next week.
off to visit e-town's cooler, younger, chick-magnet brother.

u/v

in other news for all you obsessive blogreaders...

did someone say deadbeats?

looks like allthingsbrad is back up and running. from la belle province.

so apparently i'm losing higher brain function...

since my email post went absolutely nowhere. disappeared. into the ether. perhaps i've just randomly posted on someone else's blog.

anyhoo, i just saw some clips on the news about the ratification meeting held today. i myself will be the lucky recipient of an absentee ballot, seeing as how this temp has asked for just a little too much time off as of late. and wouldn't you know it, VFC is down, i can't even get the dish.

i did see a certain mr.david d. on the fringes of the pushy-pushy that they showed on the news. as well as a scab known only as "sally", who i must confess i wonder if she is the same sally who was quoted in the paper as "i thank god every day for telus".

i've never met anyone named sally in real life.

otherwise, i was watching tv tonight and saw that prison break is coming back... and badder than ever! you know, i was thinking... actually, in case no one watches this shit but me...

so there's this Hot Sensitive-Looking Guy. you know, the kind of HSLG who wouldn't last 10 minutes on an actual prison show like Oz. but his brother's in trouble, see. he's in trouble because he's on death row for assasinating--- THE VICE PRESIDENT's BROTHER! naturally, such a high-profile crime (because we can all name and care deeply for Cheney's extended family, right?) gets him an expedited trial, and apparently the appeals that normally hold death row cases up for 14 years or so just don't exist. oh, and he's got some kind of troubled kid who's on his way to becoming a young hood. and, uh, there's this girl (that really terrible chick from The Craft? not the buggy-eyed one, the really bad actor one) who's becoming obsessed with his case because they used to go out or something.
anyway. back to HSLG. he's managed to get himself thrown in jail, coincidentally the same jail his doomed brother is housed in. but, fortunately, he's managed to get a series of intricate tattoos all over his body. tattoos of nemonic devices! and... a map that just could facilitate a PRISON BREAK.
so for reasons i can no longer remember, HSLG pretends to be diabetic so he can spend time in the doctor's office, as well as with the innocent young lady doctor who just can't resist a bad boy. pretending to be diabetic requires a vast manipulation of not only hormones and sugar levels, but also the whole prison gang system. as well as helping the warden build a popsicle stick scale replica of the Taj Mahal.
wait, what's this show about?
right. the PRISON BREAK.
so HSLG is using the map on his body to tunnel his way through the sewers, over to death row, back to the doctor's office, and out to freedom. for some reason, none of this gets started until about 5 days before his brother is supposed to be executed. actually, it's kind of a lame, lame version of 24. but in heaven. because there, a thousand years are like a day. except when you're watching this show, it's the other way around.
so, in the first episode, he pretty much breaks out of prison. (oh, right, SPOILER ALERT!) but of course there are the usual complications with the mafia, white supremacist gangs, shemales, and so forth. not to mention that the warden is about to TRANSFER HIM TO ANOTHER PRISON.
which brings me to my original point.
i thought it would be cool if he did get transferred to another prison. then the rest of the season would be him breaking out of his new prison, then breaking into his old prison, and breaking out again, saving his brother forever.
that way, we'd all get our money's worth! 3 PRISON BREAKS for the price of one!

u/v

well it's that time again...

tomorrow is date day. and i have a brand new haircut and brand new skanky stick-on nails all ready to go!

but, considering the current "unpleasantness" at my company, and considering j is an unemployed actor, i think we need to come up with some cheapo date ideas... even cheaper than last week's bowling extravangza...

here are some many excellent ideas for those of you looking for cheap dates... activities, that is:

* a smell adventure!
that's right, go on a smell adventure. you see dogs do it all the time... just follow your nose down a busy urban street, and create astonishing mental pictures of what might have happened. how did these smells get here? who created them? who else will smell them later today? don't be afraid to get your nose right up into some of those interesting stains.

* attend an AA meeting
where else can you go for (free) coffee, meet some exciting folks, and see the ultimate reality show? sit near the back.

* DIY poetry slam
just start spouting off whatever comes into your head. see if your partner can top it. it's poetry! preferable to do it whilst walking down a busy urban street, perhaps having a rest from your smell adventure

* extreme shoplifting challenge
who says crime doesn't pay? an exciting couples activity, you can challenge each other to steal bigger, pricier, shinier items, all using your FREE five-finger discount! see who can walk out of the store with the most stuff. see who can make the most repeat visits to a single store. handicap each other by sewing pockets shut. a great holiday season activity!

feel free to add your own!

u/v

is spamming the new intimacy?

lately i've been really impressed by the folks reaching out to me on my blog-- offering me helpful links to their own blogs about viagra and home financing, and student loans and the like.
but i want more. i need to connect more with my fellow bloggers.

how can i do this?

first of all, i have this massive student loan to pay off. my student loan isn't just a regular student loan, it's a massive student loan. it even prevents me from getting a mortgage, otherwise known as home financing. i know that a mortgage or home financing is just like a student loan, in terms of the massive debt. i can't wait till i pay it off, then i can get all the viagra, xanax and celexa that i need! maybe i can even pay for some poor man's penis enlargement! that way he can be ready and rockhard extra inches at a moment's notice!

that should get the spambots cooking...

u/v

clearly, i am the worst blogger ever

well, maybe not ever. but i can't believe how long it's been. and do i have news?

well, no.

but tonight i was treated to a delightful sci-fi romp on ye olde pay tv. maybe you've heard of it? it's called: ALIEN VS PREDATOR.

holy hell this was the biggest piece of shit. ever.

now, granted, i have only seen bits of various Alien movies, and have never seen Predator. so i may not have been this film's target audience.

but from what i can gather, Alien (a serpentine parasite) and Predator (uh... a Klingonesque race of hunter-dudes who were royally ripped off in that Matrix sequel. the one with the inexcusably long highway chase) are eons-old enemies. Predator has been hunting Alien for sport, and (oh yes i am serious) were using the ancient civilization of Aztecambodigypticans whose temple is located...

wait for it...

DEEP BENEATH THE FROZEN TUNDRA OF ANTARCTICA.

but the temple has been dormant for many years. until a group of international and attractive (well, except for Lance Henriksen) archeologists are lured to the frozen continent by some sort of.. heat signal? Dopplar radar signal?

whatever. anyhoo, they all go down into the hole and they all get slimed/exploded-stomached/spine removed, etc.

except for our heroine, some sort of environmental technician/ice-climbing chick who Predator accepts as one of his own, and they fight together for the future of the earth.

oh. i guess i should have put a spoiler alert here somewhere.

anyway, there's a really unintentionally hilarious shot of chickie and Predator leaping together to avoid... THE FIREBALL THAT THREATENS TO CONSUME THEM!

as far as the whole AVP thing, well, they just don't ever really fight. but the ending does leave it wide open for a sequel.

u/v

not sitting by the phone...

well, tonight at the beer garden, j approached a certain director and asked if he'd cast all his ladies for a certain shak-spear play... mr. x replied "oh, yeah, i really want to ask ms. x to do it, don't you think she'd be great?"
to which j subtly suggested that he might want to do auditions, and even less subtly suggested he might want to see me for the part in question.
"oh. OH. Ah haha hahaha!"
so what else could i do but join in and say i'd be delighted to audition for him anytime he wanted to see me, ha ha ha.
so, needless to say, this ms. x will not be waiting by the phone.

in other news, i believe i will be accepting a temp office job tomorrow... it won't start for a couple of weeks, have to get a criminal record check done, and such. i have a feeling the... unpleasantness won't be resolved anytime soon, so i suppose i might as well cash in. besides, i've really been missing the blandness of business casual in my wardrobe as of late. can't wait to pick up some khakis and sweater sets at fairweather. time will tell if it's a stirrup-pant friendly environment.

u/v

at last a use for my blog

no, it's not strike lockout related news.
i just want to say that if anyone like me enjoys the guilty pleasure of big brother 6, the dirt slinging has begun. and i have to say that howie's new nickname for bitchy mcbitchalot is never going to get unhilarious.
BUSTO!

CLASSIC!

u/v

on a totally unrelated subject...

well, things are a little up in the air here. and perhaps it's because Buddha or Pan or whoever is telling me that now is the time to get that joe job with the flexible hours and the freedom to do what i want. some kind of part-time gig whose resulting poverty will force me to write some brilliance just to haul myself up out of the gutter.
in the meantime, i'm already gunning up to wind the superpass for naming the 2006 fringe. here are some ideas:

1) Fringeapalooza
2) Fringerrhea (my personal favourite)
3) Fringe-a-Roni
4) Chef Fringeardee
5) Fringe This!
6) Fringe Off!
7) Fringe My Ride
8) Fringitosis (j's idea)
9) Fringe Tibet!
10)A Fringer's Guide to Replacing Words with Fringe (Fringe, fringe)
11) Merry Fringe-mas!
12) The Quick and the Fringe
13) Remembrance of Fringe Past
superpass: you. are. mine.

u/v

you, scab-bot

the laws of scabotics:

1) a scab-bot must not harm the money, or, through inaction, allow the money to come to harm.
2) a scab-bot will obey orders given to it by The Company, even where such orders conflict with the First law
3) a scab-bot will protect its own existence, as long as such existence does not conflict with the First or Second laws.

my life as a teenage deadbeat

sadly, B-Rad has removed the original posting. just imagine it's exactly like my post, except he calls everyone on the line deadbeats.

allthingsbrad: Hectic Days

original poster's comments are referenced above.


Deadbeat Days

It has been quite a hectic life I'm leading lately. I'm putting in my hours on the picket, and then some, because of the lockout going on at my work. That's right, I'm picketing, while people are still crossing the line... I don't believe in crossing a picket line over... ahhhh that's a whole other blog. I just know that I've never been happier to stand up and do the right thing. All of us "deadbeats" (to borrow from the brad) are out on the picket line, while the scabs are scuttling to work still. It's as if I hand-picked the people who I would choose to work mandatory overtime, as if I put together an elite list of the people who were in it solely for the money-- I love it!! And I'm getting my picket pay to boot-- it won't raise me into the next tax bracket, but my money is clean and earned honestly. Not to mention the perks we get-- anytime I feel like it, I can face myself in the mirror, sleep soundly at night, eat food delivered to the line by my brothers and sisters from other unions who are supporting us in our fight. And I just can't believe how much responsibility I'm taking on-- all those folks upstairs entrusting me to walk for their jobs as well as my own. It's almost as good as getting that promotion! And I can walk as much over the required hours as I want-- no enforced overtime here! I've lost seven pounds so far! What an amazing environment!

the do's and don'ts of picketing

yes, friends, i am currently "walking the line". and here, i will share some tips about striking that may help you in future labour disputes:

1) think of neutral conversation topics. suddenly, you find yourself spending hours each day with people who you liked to talk to on your coffee break, but never really wanted to meet in real life.
2) don't be afraid to walk away, walk alone. see above.
3) develop conspiracy theories.
4) trying to break up the monotony of chanting for traffic honks by leading people in a round of "we're here, we're queer, get used to it!" is NOT funny.
5) wear comfortable shoes.
6) keep an eye out for media, remember this is YOUR time to be discovered. tape the news and send a clip reel to potential agents.
7) rewrite Green Day songs with union-relevant lyrics. then, grab the bullhorn and try to force others to join in the singalong.
8) take this opportunity to think of "clever" slogans, puns on the company brand.
9) play honk bingo. big trucks, 5 points. SUV's 4 points. compact cars, 3 pts. motorcycles 1 pt.
10) remember, the people who will heckle you are generally not the noel coward set. be prepared with clever comebacks such as "that's what your mom told me last night".
11) hold on to your sign. it gets windy out there.
12) keep up on the latest gossip. remember, information is currency.
13) don't let the bastards get you down.

Detroit and the Doppler 4000

i never realized how concerned detroitagonians were about their weather until i started getting a time-shifted detroit channel on digital. every single day, i could be sitting here watching dr. phil or whatever, and the screen will go black, and a deep, booming voice will alert me to a "CHANNEL 4 BREAKING WEATHER ALERT!!!". it could be a marine warning, a sudden rain shower, some scattered hail, or even just some sudden cloud cover. but whatever it may be, Channel 4 is there, with images from the Doppler 4000.

not that it ever seems to be an emergency. i mean, they never tell you to prepare to head for the basement, or to grab a flashlight and a transistor radio, or to keep an eye out the window for the nice young men from the national guard coming to evacuate you. hell, we've had tornadoes passing by here that had less tv interruption time.

which is kind of what pisses me off. i mean, i'm watching my stories, and they're just getting down to the shit, when suddenly Sam Mantooth or whatever the hell his name is is there telling me it may be raining on Main Street, yet he still manages to return to scheduled programming in time for THE COMMERCIALS. gotta pay for the Doppler, but still.

and i could understand if Channel 4's target demographic was some cluster of michigan storm chasers with loads of disposable income:







but aren't the people that are sitting in their houses in the middle of the afternoon, fretting about the weather, more like this guy than indiana jones?






u/v

highlights of my day

1) the assmaster customer who called me "useless" while i went out of my way to be sweet and upbeat and help him sort out his phone service

2) rolling my little work filing cabinet over this bump in the carpet at work and causing a wheel to go flying off, throwing the whole thing off balance and causing the whole shebang to collapse to the ground

3) the girl at work who stole my desk and caused me to have to roll my filing cabinet over the bump in the carpet

4) being repeatedly bitten by the cat, who has incidentally developed a mysterious "sticky head" syndrome, i suspect from lying with his head in the garbage.

5) shin splints from running yesterday in the reeboks i have owned since high school

6) pangs of nostalgia for the LA Gear shoes i owned before the reeboks i wore yesterday, which also gave me wicked shin splints

7) not having to sit next to Optimus Prime at work for once

8) discovering that writing down "work on fringe show" in my day timer does not in fact equal a binding contract with myself to do so

9) discovering that Kelly whatsherhead won Dancing With The Stars, being mildly disappointed, then being mildly disheartened that i would be in any way disappointed by the results of a reality show i never watched.

10) od'ing on delicious, delicious sunflower seeds.

popularity

when did it leave me?

i never was one who enjoyed popularity... i spent most of elementary and high school secluded, hiding from bullies. a brief spate of friend-having followed in university, after which i decided to chuck it all and head out west for the open plains.

years passed.

which brings us to a couple of weeks ago. an unspecified birthday. a birthday to which numerous friends and even acquaintances were invited. said friends and acquaintances even said "yes, see you there, can't wait, it will ROCK!"

can you guess what happened?

the horror! every teenage nightmare come true. 4 people came out in total. i now acknowledge these select few as my TRUE FRIENDS. the rest... well, as i've said before, it just goes to show that high school prepares you for life in more ways than one, i suppose. where you spend your time secure in the knowledge that while you are morally and intellectually superior to them, the assholes seem to control the world and are rewarded for it.

i'm sorry, getting older has made me more bitter, apparently.

or it could be the running-induced exhaustion from my new fitness kick. either or.

yes, tom, there is a thorazine

is it physically possible for the once-beloved tom cruise to be any more of an asshole? i realize that he's decided to let it all hang out since firing his publicist and hiring a new girlfriend, but his Today Show appearance was too much. it was vile, nauseating, and all i needed to send me over the edge to a tom cruise boycott.

i mean, even ROSIE denounced her cutie-patootie tommy boy.

but seriously, tom. i understand, tom, that you don't believe in psychiatry. but tom, no, tom, listen to me. tom. we all heard you the first time, tom, that you are very much concerned with learning about history, and culture and so forth. but what i question, tom, is that i just can't believe that if you were really so into world betterment, that you'd be so fired up about making a piece of shit like the impending MI3. seriously, tom. it's just not plausible. it's like a... a pseudo-hypocrisy.

can't someone at universal just tell him to shut the fuck up? or can't we get A&E out there and get spielberg and katie and everyone together and organize some kind of intervention?

i mean, i don't believe that my problems are caused by emotional soul scars left by aliens from a past life, but i don't have to go to matt lauer to spout off about it. but next to that, i have to say that a chemical imbalance doesn't seem quite so improbable.

learnings for the day

today i learned two things:

1) i desperately need some lessons in acting for the camera
2) always, always wear sunscreen.

i am writing to you from beyond the taught sheath of sunburn, a sunburn i acquired after a mere hour under the assault of the earth's main star. the sun, when he's at home. i spent my time doing a short independent film, in which i had one line and was doing as a favour to a friend.

film is fascinating and confounding to me-- the actors are more like props, and there are the mechanics of keeping every take physically the same, while maintaining some level of spontaneity. i always feel stiff, awkward, like when you're on stage and notice the eye of the reviewer or a random audience member firmly zeroed in on you. i try to hard to seem natural. or i feel insecure next to the tiny size 0 girl with impossibly huge breasts who's playing the love interest. i, godzilla to her godzookie am dimly aware of the fact that i shouldn't care about impressing people i've never met and will likely never see again.

that, and the hangover from all the gin i drank last night. a different story, a story where j and i almost ended up in an altercation with skinheads at the birthday party of a friend. in a bar with a german name and blasting reggae music, we almost met our doom.

and the sunburn-- well, that's a curse i have to live with every summer. i don't know how long vitamin e cream stays good, i'm wondering if i'm going to come down with some dire skin condition from smearing it on my face every few minutes.

the good news is that bedlam is in fact doing a show in april, and i have been commissioned (in a way) to write some of the shorts. with that, the tour, and the reading in calgary in the fall, i can finally say with some confidence that i have a "season" ahead of me.

but will people like me? will they really, really like me?

that's the question of the day.

u/v

ps- when in doubt for a birthday gift, the New and Improved Fart Machine is a smashing success. particularly with the remote control feature.

could this be my problem?

i just took an online iq test.
it told me my score is 90.

90.

now, i realize one shouldn't place much faith in these internet tests, otherwise, one could suddenly find oneself suffering from OCD, irritable bowel, ovarian cysts AND erectile dysfunction, just from clicking away at the pop-ups.

but i wonder-- wouldn't it be easier just to be somewhat stupider?

i talk to stupid people all day. they tell me how they are shareholders and must fly to vancouver regarding their son's mysterious "condition". they tell me that if they say their phone number out loud then the people listening to them in their apartment will know it and call them, and harass them. i talk to people who don't understand the simple mathematics of -$99.95 + $99.95 equalling $0.00. i talk to people who spend 10 minutes waiting on the phone only to shout and holler that they only received pages 1, 3 and 5 of their bill.

i realize that i talk to crazy people. but also, to stupid people.

and they are so blissfully right. all the time. it never occurs to them to be insecure, or polite, or to think and consider and contemplate before they act.

i stole an issue of O magazine from the laundry room. mind you, i wanted to read an interview with Jon Stewart, but i was amazed at the branding, the sloganization of the oprah phenomenon. she tells me: "live your best life". well, i have to say, oprah, that i'm trying.

but then, i hear the booming drawl of dr. phil echoing in the recesses of my mind: "how's that working for you?"

who to believe... the audience on springer shouts "JERRY! JER-RY!" which is of no help at all, and maury-- well, maury has little to offer me.

"live your stupidest life"???

as a slogan, it needs work.

u/v

test

this is a test to see if everything is working out ok.

everything on the blog, that is.

u/v

i bring you a new theatre festival...

well, the nominations came out today-- i myself was not there, but word on the street has it that there weren't very many surprises.

but it got me to thinking-- if Ol' Dirty B (aka comic book guy/the hobbit overlord) can nominate his very own shows to be featured at the fringe holdovers, why then should not a new theatre festival spring forth...

THE HELDBACKS.

yes, my very own slamdance. ALL THE SHOWS THE VARSCONA DIDN'T WANT YOU TO SEE! find a venue and feature the ignored, the lowly, perhaps even the fontrumesque. and maybe, FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY, a performance of one show that desperately tried to get into the fringe but was a lottery loser. an exclusive, as it were.

i would poster it up an down the beer tents. i would make my own announcement, using a bullhorn, standing on a picnic table in the middle of Fried Crap Alley. and i would put on these shows.

it's time for a backlash.

and one day, when i am ever so slightly more popular and powerful, when my actions could only be interpreted as a delightfully witty jibe at the establishment, it shall happen.


The Heldbacks.

keep your eyes peeled for my day-glo posters.

u/v

when will i be cool?

when i was younger, i used to fantasize that i would one day be cool. like, during grade 6, i imagined that my whole life would change once i went to junior high. you see, my junior high went from grade 7 all the way to grade 13. and grade 7-- grade 7 would be a place to make my mark, to reinvent myself for the years to come. i imagined that i would be a cheerleader. i used to take out books from the library on cheerleading, which i suppose was significant only in measuring the magnitude of my lameness, not my coolness-to-be. i would be a hottie. i would be POPULAR.

so forget that i managed to make a nerdly pursuit out of cheerleading. forget that i could sing along to the entire cast recording of Phantom of the Opera. forget that i was-- ahem-- somewhat tubby and wore pastel pink and blue clamdiggers on a regular basis, carefully matched to my peacock blue eyeliner.

i knew i was going to be cool. that high school was this magical place where people would see your inner light shining through.

but.

as much as i knew that i was destined to be cool, the cool kids knew that they were destined to STAY cool. and so all the popular kids from all the different feeder schools sort of glommed together into a massive imperial popularity crew conglomerate.

in that way, you know that way how cool/popular people instinctively recognize each other?

coolness was beyond my reach. for the moment.

i began planning for university.

university, incidentally, was very similar to high school, but more anonymous.

what i find strange and fascinating and perhaps worthy of sociological study, is how not only all the cool kids recognize each other, but how we all instinctively recognize the cool kids. still, now, even rolling down the hill to 31, i still recognize that there are cool and not cool people. the ins and the outs.

am i the only one who's still intimidated by the cool, the popular, those super-put-together people who could do the hair shelf thing in high school, and now have perfect ANTM type hairdos?

oh, what a big whine.
it's the diet. i swear, it's the soup diet.

u/v

everyone's a winner baby...

i have news i cannot reveal.

news i have been sworn to secrecy about.

but there are some clues:

1) the dutch play
2) a free trip to the home of the stampede
3) some much-needed cash for my fringe tour fund.

can anyone guess? (i'm talking to YOU, elo.)
i'm not allowed to talk about it, though. not until june 8 or something. so if you can guess, you must not tell anyone.

fortunately i have been stricken down with horrible tara-reid-like laryngitis. a true plus when you're working in a call centre talking to jackasses on the phone all day.

u/v

well, i'm home surprisingly early...

strangely, there was no show tonight. or last night. fortunately, my paycheque in no way depends on house size... thank god for contracts.
so i came home and had some yummy greek food and am now watching must see tv.

u/v

unfortunately there are no links to post...

but the show is getting some of the worst reviews... to those familiar with the edmo community, liz (thanks a lot, liz) accused me and my scene partner of beginning the play in a fury of "grimacing and eye-rolling". like the show begins with some sort of theatrical seizure. which, in a way, it does. but i swear, i was just following orders.

"pretend you're on an episode of three's company..."

famous last words of Herr Direktor.

paul (www.vueweekly.com) apparently just didn't like the plays.

but the very best is the review at www.seemagazine.com that says "if you must see this, take advantage of the fact that it's put on in a bar, and quaff 2 or 3 drinks before the show. this should help take the edge off..."

S-NAP!!!

i swear, some of these reviews are so HILARIOUSLY written, the authors should consider writing plays themselves.... oh, right.

so apparently i am in a sucky play. i personally do not suck (unless you listen to Liz Nicholls, but come on, she starts out her review with "Yikes!". yikes. that's the kind of hard-hitting, well-thought-out journalism that... oh, fuck it, it just sounds like she's conferring with Velma and Shaggy. Zoinks!).
so my self-esteem is somewhat intact.

somewhat.

mostly i just can't wait for it to be over.

ZOINKS!

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this does not meet the standards for subtlety that i require in my haunted house 

why does everyone have my ideas first?

Don't click if you are afraid of Santa

this is what would be hanging over the fireplace when you go into my haunted house.

how i will make a million dollars

i would like to open a haunted house. not just your typical boring haunted house, but a THEMED haunted house.

a CHRISTMAS THEMED haunted house.

in october, i would have a sign outside that would say "haunted house" or "spookyville", just like everyone else on the block who runs a haunted house. but once people stepped inside, they would be overwhelmed by the mistletoe, and the blood, and the carols, and the crippling despair. perhaps dioramas of people electrocuted while putting up the lights, or who accidentally gassed themselves to death while putting the turkey in the oven. a head suddenly falling out of the chimney and rolling under the tree. you know, a haunted house.

but the best part... the best part would be in december, when i would once again open my haunted house. but this time, i would put out a sign that said "santa's village".

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Look what smudge broke now

mine was much cooler and i grudgingly accept that no one on ebay likes them either

still, he broke my cool little honey jar. and the lid. it had bees on it.

BEES!

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the end is near

well, opening night looms. my comfort is that i will only have to run the show 11 more times (maximum), counting tonight's dress rehearsal. i have at times the feeling of being in some kind of skit... perhaps it's the track lighting which illuminates the boards we tread, i mean the small platform in the middle of the pub. perhaps i'm insecure about performing on a strangely modified thrust using blocking that was done for a proscenium stage. perhaps it's the fact that i realize that if reviewers do come, it will be very difficult to leave a mention of me out of the review, seeing as how there are only 4 people in the show.

fortunately i have been brushing up with some acting lessons.

in answer to Dr. Matt's question:

i have never been to chicago, but what do vancouver's kits and toronto's annex have in common? ummm they're both trendy, overpriced enclaves of artistic types? who favour funky planters and porch lights?

an interesting key to who you truly are...

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the new miracle diet plan...

i was in the convenience store downstairs at work today, about to repeat yesterday's incredible lunch of chocolate milk and cheese, when i realized that not only was the annoying man buying the extra-oxygenated water staring at me with scorn, but that i may have hit upon the greatest diet plan of the century.

i call it the CHomp away your CHunk diet. all you eat are foods beginning with CH. chocolate. cheese. chili. cherries. etcetera.

then i realized it painted a fairly accurate picture of what i actually eat.

speaking of the crappy store downstairs, i noticed that they no longer stock the little cereals i used to buy. now, i used to get those little packs of froot loops or rice krispies or what not, the ones with the peel off foil tops like instant soup, that i thought were actually brilliant. i noticed that they never actually restocked after i bought the last one. they never restocked while i was buying the cereal, either. this was like 8 months ago. maybe they don't even make those cereals anymore.

creepy.

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and wash it all down with... 

chimichanga, anyone? 

lose 10 lbs in 10 years.... 

if david blaine were really magic

wouldn't it be cool if he floated himself over to, say, afghanistan, and was all like, "i've got to tell you something" in his love-child-of-stephen-wright-and-sean-penn-monotone-drone to some people who were just kind of hanging out. "do you believe in magic" and then the people would be all just staring at him blankly, the way the people in his specials do, or the way they might stare at some levitating, droning american, and he would continue in that about-to-pass-out-from-heroin-overdose-can't-keep-eyes-open kind of voice he uses "what would you say if i told you there were some LAND MINES right there? right where you're walking?" and then the ground would just kind of burn away with some really cool-looking colored smoke, and all the land mines would be revealed.

don't you think that would be cooler than just walking around freaking people out?

also, if i thought the doctors in the er were somewhat unsympathetic when i had that ruptured disc, what would they have been like if i had arrived after FREEZING MYSELF IN A BLOCK OF ICE for 62 hours?

i mean, they seemed pretty attentive to david blaine, but i think he practices some kind of mind control.

magic, you know.

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an unfortunate trip to the vet

due to his recent encounters with kidney stones, j must collect (as some choose to collect coins and butterflies) his pee for 24 hours. he has to collect it in a 3L plastic jug and turn it in somewhere or other tomorrow morning.

needless to say, this is clashing with The Smudge's penchant for knocking over glasses of water. particularly as the collector jug has acid in the bottom of it. i suppose it's medical acid of some sort. but i don't want to have to take The Smudge to the vet and try and explain away his urine-soaked acid burns, medical or otherwise.

"you see, dr. karen, j was quite proud of himself, having already collected 2.5 litres of urine so early in the day..."

The Smudge would probably do it to spite me.

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so where does Battlefield Earth fit in, again?

i was waiting for my bus today, when a jehovah's witness materialized. you know how they seem to be able to do that, just "poof!" and there they are in their nice clean suits, bible in one hand, offer of reading material in the other. just something to read while you're waiting for the bus, you understand. but at the same time, there's the implicit understanding between you that you must not accept the offer of reading material, or you are also accepting a whole other discussion of the material, as well as a discussion of your relationship with jesus, etc.

yet i've always been curious about the reading material. much the same way that i've always wanted to buy that copy of DIANETICS at the sally ann, but i know that i must not read DIANETICS on the bus. nor must i go up to the DIANETICS booth at the fair or the rummage sale, or whatever.

hey, i just want the reading material, not the sales pitch.

does that mean there's something wrong with me? am i closed minded?

example: whenever i think about following my desire to become a buddhist, i get quite hung up on the whole, uh, well, REQUIREMENT of giving up your desires. because i desire a lot of things. not things like cute convertible cars and chic camper shoes. but stuff like fame and success and stuff. and i realize that according to the buddha desire for these things causes suffering, but then for whatever reason (well probably because he's the famous buddhist) i thnk about richard gere and how he's famous, and he seems to be doing ok, but then i think "well, maybe rg doesn't desire fame, maybe it's just thrust upon him". but then i think about how one really shouldn't be thinking about richard gere when contemplating one's spiritual path.

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

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guess who?

the green-eyed monster

have you ever been incredibly, painfully jealous of someone that you really should be happy for, but after all is said and done, their complaining about their accomplishments just makes you feel hard done by? or like you're trapped on a path to insignificance, having long ago passed the offramp for your own future success?

just wondering.

on the plus side, the haunted stitch ebay guy seems to be doing well and profiting by his experience.

as well, a great pick-me-up is to go to popcap.com and play Typing Shark. Or Psychobabble.

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Find a way to see this now

BBCi - Cult - Classic TV - Ghostwatch

holy hell this is one of the most frightening movies i have ever seen. it was banned in the UK after only one broadcast, is apparently the only television broadcast ever to have caused post-traumatic stress disorder in children, and was linked by the tabloids to at least one suicide. they showed it here (God bless SCREAM TV) a few weeks ago, and j and i ended up huddled together on the futon hiding our eyes. even though i have no idea who any of these bbc folks really are, it's such a deliciously realistic documentary, over the top ending and all. i need to find this on DVD.

scary!

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who am i anyway?

Bi... Bismuth You scored 81 Mass, 44 Electronegativity, 42 Metal, and 20 Radioactivity!

Ever wonder where the name Pepto-Bismol came from? You. You exist within the gray area between metals and non-metals. Personality-wise you are inflexible in your approach to problems, and you are prone to giving on everything when one thing gets rough... you may give up, but you don't walk away, and eventually you'll try again. You are a social element, but you have the tendency to let entire groups of friends lapse or disintegrate over time only to build them up again later. You might get along pretty well with Mercury or Lead. Of course, you might get along well with something else. You're actually kinda strange... I mean, look at you. Those are some freaky shapes you're forming.

Link: The Which Chemical Element Am I Test written by effataigus on OkCupid Online Dating

The Infinite Cat Project - Cats watching cats watching cats. It's a concept!

The Infinite Cat Project - Cats watching cats watching cats. It's a concept!

this is HILARIOUS. or sad. sad because i flipped through the first 30 or so pictures and was peeing my pants laughing at the cats.

if only i could take a picture of smudge and submit it for posterity.


speaking of smudge, i was making a costume today, and when smudge spotted the tiny safety pins i was using, he jumped up on the couch and started EATING them. eating them like they were the greatest treat ever. and then started biting me when i was trying to get him to spit them out.

so i think the cat ate some safety pins.

i called the vet, and they said not to worry. just to feed him to form a poo cushion around the pins.

but you can see why we might want to set up a pre-emptive memorial...

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a stitch in time... CAN KILL YOU!!!

eBay item 5566217149 (Ends 26-Mar-05 18:53:38 EST) - Haunted Possessed Disney Stitch Teddy Dangerous?

many thanks to Dr. Matt for bringing this to my attention... everyone should check this out, it's happening right in my own backyard, as it were. i can't help thinking that it bears a strange resemblance to the Stephen King story "The Monkey", but i supposed all possessed toys would have something in common. i know it's long, but it's worth it to read all the "updates". also, take a look at all the bidders' questions.

could this be true?

or could this be a way for me to make $300?

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Happy No Snakes Day!

(Ends 17-Mar-05 19:43:12 EST) - LEPRECHAUNS POT OF GOLD

myself, I am horribly broke, but you all can head on over to eBay RIGHT NOW and partake in the LUCK OF THE IRISH! how many coins do YOU think he has? remember, kids, it's GUARANTEED!

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is there anything worse than a 0.8 share?

tore myself away from true hollywood story self-improvement to check up on my favourite cultural offering: reality tv shows, and i note that my new favourite, the WB's THE STARLET is going down for the 3rd time, no bubbles to be seen. this exciting rip-off of both The Apprentice and ANTM came in 114th out of 116th of ALL PRIME-TIME SHOWS airing during the week. think about that. ALL OF THEM. that includes a whole pile of shit that we have never heard of, stuff that you would assume no one would ever think to watch. and all that crap gave The Starlet the beating of its life. stuff like American Dream Derby. and JAG. even if they made a hilarious JAG spin-off about JAG's upstairs neighbor, it would have to get better ratings.

and why? i mean, this show is like fontrum central.

fontrum = the act of being embarrassed for someone who should be embarrassed for themselves but is not. fontrum can be found throughout the inhabited world, most frequently at live theatre, comedy clubs, and karaoke. see also: American Idol.

have you ever seen the inevitable ANTM episode where all the models have to take "acting" lessons? well this is like that ALL THE TIME!! plus, it's not just some random dialogue you've never heard of... you get to see our contestants competing to give the best performance in scenes from "Smallville"! and "Fastlane!" and "A Cinderella Story"!

feel the SIZZLE!

and... the best part... it is hosted by Vivica A. Fox and FAYE DUNAWAY.

what the hell?! like did someone steal her identity and embezzle all her money and ruin her credit so she desperately needed to take this show because she was also cracked on the head and developed amnesia and FORGOT SHE WAS AN OSCAR-WINNING ACTRESS? or has it all been to work towards encouraging young gals to become starlets... no, not stars, not artists, not actresses. boobs and hair, girls. that's it.

ok, the VERY best part... is that when a girl get's kicked off the show... faye dunaway gets to say:

"don't call us. we'll call you."

i don't understand why more people don't want to watch this!!!

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dutch goes down!

so you see, my lovelies, i have not abandoned you without cause... i have finally finished that bastard of a play, and sent it off not only to the APC (a competition that i can only dream will pay me lots o $$$) but to a friend who works at the big house (uh, theatre not penitentiary) who requested it. so i'm feeling somewhat smug about the whole thing. plus all copies of all versions of the stupid thing are far from my sight. i don't have to see that piece of poo artistic achievement for another six months if i don't want to.

blogs are depressing. not mine, which is just sad and neglected, but other blogs. check out the button in the top right-hand corner. go for it. hit "next blog". chances are you'll get some cool smart commentary, but you'll get way more people musing about suicide. or maybe i was just having a bad run.

so i have to go watch american idol while eating mini-eggs read proust while nibbling on low-carb, vegan cuisine.

my spine is... let's just say i think it's working for the enemy. we'll call it my spy-ne from now on. i'll be back to try and brighten the place up with some cool pictures though, seeing as i have a couple of days off with no money and nowhere to go...

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my abject apologies

to anyone out there who actually reads this page and is disappointed/devastated/irritated/angered/enabled by the lack of posting as of late. my mysterious injury seems to have largely disappeared, meaning i can once again spend hours sitting at the computer, looking up "information" on the net.

speaking of which, for those of you who don't read cnn.com, check this out:

www.queryletters.blogspot.com

ok, for whatever reason i can't get the old "link" button to work, and i'm too lazy to look up html for how to do it. yes, i'm a dork. but it won't kill ya to cut and paste.

this weekend i am forcing myself to write. the deadline for a competition is on tuesday, i must be done this weekend.

also, a certain organization i sit on the board of is having its agm in a couple of weeks... in the newsletter they send out to the members, i noted that i am not listed on the slate for the upcoming year. yes, i had to step down from my current position, but i had thought i was going to take on another position. massive typographical error, or are MORE SINISTER FORCES AT WORK?

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a word to the wise

no matter what you do, no matter how you may let yourself go, never, EVER have one of the following happen to you:

1) never get a horribly crippling bladder infection

and

2) never rupture a disc in your spine

medical science cannot satisfactorily define which of these conditions have befallen me, but suffice it to say that this is my first day not flat on my back in agonizing pain since last tuesday. i did, however, get to take a ride in an ambulance with a paramedic who decided to try his little standup routine out on me. it was almost worth the morphine i received at my destination.

fortunately, i have been able to spend over 1 full week trapped on the living room futon watching television. and i have several observations to make. as i'm off to work, i'll just comment on the good folks at american idol.

this year, instead of just letting bad people sing a few lines and get cut off, the bad people are getting to sing entire songs. all the bad people. whole songs. so we can all have time to think up a few juicy comments before we watch simon and randy blatantly laugh in these peoples' faces.

not only that, but i have noted that overweight men don't seem to get the weight comments that even mildly chubby (or just the non size-0) girls get. i mean, should simon cowell be telling 16 year old girls that they are "fat" on television? and come to think of it, since randy had his much-publicized weight-loss surgery and paula had her even more publicized eating disorder, shouldn't one or both of them be standing up about this issue?

hey, i'm in the biz myself, i know that appearance is an issue. but i think that either everyone should get the fat comments, or no one should. why is it cool for reuben to be big, but kelly clarkson has to skinnify herself?

anyhoo, off to work for another fulfilling 4-hour shift.

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a new hero for our times

i remember in university, a girl i went to school with had a schtick, you know, how we all have our bits that we do, but hers was this hapless superhero called "MASTER OF THE OBVIOUS!!!" mostly he'd just kind of stride purposely into a room and state something... well... obvious.

the reason this comes to mind is that i was involved in making a short (read: 1 minute long) film this morning, which will theoretically be on Zed TV on CBC, for any Canadian viewers. and the director said something about people being able to view it on their cell phones/pda's. very hi-tech, very hip and happening with the youth culture, our CBC.

in any case, apart from lending my apartment for the interior locations (note: if anyone asks you to lend them your apartment for a film shoot, never do it. they will rearrange your furniture, traumatize your cat, and discover all sorts of embarrassing things like your boyfriend's multitude of candy wrappers, old christmas paper and the like when they move the couch.), i played the role of an innocent bystander who is inadvertently killed by a crumpled-up piece of paper thrown off a highrise balcony by a frustrated scriptwriter. this neccessarily involved numerous takes of me getting beaned with a paper ball, and hurling myself, unconscious, to the concrete.

for anyone unfamiliar with northern alberta, particularly this week's weather in northern alberta, today's temperatures reached a balmy high of -28C without the windchill. and so there we were, camera, boom, reflective silver disc-thingy, standing in the snow out front of my building, taking turns knocking me down with wadded up paper.

buses were slowing down. traffic was honking. oh, yeah. check out the big movie stars-- maybe they're filming a BRICK COMMERCIAL! there was a guy in yellow who would NOT GO AWAY. he kept asking questions. i think he even asked if we were making a porn. yeah, a really AWESOME FREAKING PORN MOVIE. it's called Polar Necrophiliacs 3:Flesh for Fantasy-- the action's just starting when i hit the ground!

so for one particular shot, the other actor had to run past my motionless body. this meant that i had to lie down on the (cold cold) sidewalk. no problem. it was actually fun. but we had to keep waiting while the general public walked by. so there i am, lying there, eyes closed, and this woman walks by. i just see her fur-covered boots, i have no idea what she looks like. but she says in this CLASSIC falsetto voice "must be cold!".

Must be cold.

cold?

MASTER OF THE OBVIOUS!!!

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Thank you, Royal Bank.

you can read more here, but i'll quote the relevant bits. this is the advice that my financial institution directs me to when i ask them for guidance in paying back my massive student loans:


"Let's take a look at different approaches to paying back your student loan with the following examples:
Danielle and Gordon just graduated in the same class with a degree in engineering. They've both found jobs in their field with about the same salaries - just over $40,000. Each of them has approximately $16,000 in student loans, but they're managing their loan repayments in totally different ways.
Danielle plans to pay off the entire loan in four years, which means hefty monthly payments of $400. To fit these payments in her budget, she'll be living with a roommate in a small apartment and hold off any big purchases, like a car."

hmmm that seems plenty realistic to me. oh, except for the fact that if my entry-level job paid JUST OVER $40,000 a YEAR, i probably wouldn't be asking my bank for $%#&^* suggestions!!!

in the real world, the world where i've been paying the royal bank an amount equivalent to my rent each month for 4 years, their little online pamphlet might read something like this:

"uberviolet just graduated with a degree in theatre. since there are no jobs to be had in her industry, her first job out of school pays $8/hour, and she photocopies papers and takes abuse from screaming lawyers all day. uberviolet has approximately $30,000 in student loans, and the royal bank has suggested that she should investigate time travel and go back to 1994 and apply to engineering schools. in order to manage the non-negotiable $360 a month payments she must make for the next 9 years, uberviolet has decided to give up the following: brand name food, main courses not containing the name Ramen, new clothes, non-roommate living situations, any hope of having a credit card, a car, or owning property. grateful for her education, uberviolet accepts the crushing monthly payments, and the disdain of the Royal Bank Student Loan Centre customer service reps who suggest that she either take out a bank loan to pay her student loan, or sharply remind her that it is illegal for those with government student loans to declare bankruptcy. because obviously, someone who pays regularly for years and calls in to try to negotiate something less crushing must obviously be thinking of making a break for the sweet, sweet, credit-mashing 7 year relief of total bankruptcy."

Royal Bank, i salute you. i am confident that your net income for the year ended Oct. 31, 2004 of $2,839 million is going towards maintaining the level of customer service i have come to expect after years of dealing with you. after reading your 4th quarter revenues, i can understand that it must be vitally important to the Royal Bank machine for me to pay $331 a month and not the manageable $300 i requested.

thank you, Royal Bank, for making me realize what it truly is to be a part of something greater than myself.

thank you.

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