May 31, 2007
Or should I skip the middle man and speak directly to his penis?
May 27, 2007
Superstar: Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?
Savia: No, I just have to deal with this. I am freaking out.
Superstar: How about I get you high and go down on you?
Savia: [long pause]
Now, who's going to argue with that?
Why does he have to live two provinces away?
May 22, 2007
The rules are:
- Each player creates a list of eight random personal facts/habits.
- At the end of your post, list eight people who you want to tag to also do this meme.
- People who are tagged will post these rules and write their own list of eight personal facts/habits.
Eight of Savia's Personal Facts/Habits:
- I will pick lunch over breakfast or brunch any day. I don't get the obsession with breakfast food.
- I force myself to eat olives. Why do I force myself? Because I feel like I should like them, being Italian and all, and maybe if I keep eating them, eventually my taste buds will come around. Hey, it worked for feta cheese and red wine.
- I have 23 litres of red wine (Barolo, in case you were wondering - a "big, bold Italian", I'm told) brewing in my basement. It's my fourth batch of wine to date. No one has gone blind yet.
- I hate spring.
- The path is shifting beneath my feet and I'm not entirely sure where I'm going these days.
- I am addicted to accessories and shiny things.
- Superstar left his Indonesian didgeridoo lodged in my couch when he went home. This is not a euphemism. Though I suppose it could be.
- The next few months are going to be really tough, and I wish they were over already. But I guess you don't get to appreciate the good stuff unless you drag your way through the crap, right?
Now for the taggie good times. I only have five, so hopefully the meme gods won't hunt me down and do naughty things to me (though that could be fun...):
May 17, 2007
Superstar's Nephew: Everyone likes you, you know.
Savia: (smiles) I like all of you, too.
SN: Who is your boyfriend, Savia?
Savia: See that guy at the end of the table? That's him.
SN: Who's his girlfriend?
Savia: Well, you'd have to ask him that one.
SN: I know who it is - it's you!
Savia: You've got me there.
SN: When are you getting married?
Savia: Uh...I have no idea.
SN: You should get married right away.
SN: Because I want to meet your kids.
SN: You should get married today. Right now.
Savia: And why is that?
SN: Because I want to see you kiss!
SN: Because I want to know what it looks like.
Savia: Now, why would you want to see that?
SN: I just do. (in an annoyed voice) When do you guys even kiss anyway?
Savia: (almost spits out her wine, then starts laughing)
SN's Dad: What is he saying to you?
SN: You can't tell!
Savia: Okay, I won't tell.
But I never said I wouldn't write it on my blog...
May 16, 2007
And while you're over visiting Schmutzie, please drop her a comment and send her some love. She's dealing with some pretty heavy news right now, and I can't even begin to know how that feels. I am still trying to get my head around it and make sense of it all as someone who cares deeply for her. And feeling incredibly helpless, because there's nothing that I can do to make this better. All I can do is think positive thoughts, send positive energy, and sic all of you on her to do the same.
May 10, 2007
And the nominees are:
- dry heaving
- crying jags
- cold sweats
- racing heart
- intestinal loveliness
- dry mouth
No, it's "Just Stress." Why do we always write stress off like it shouldn't be a big deal? Clearly it is if it ravages your body to the point where you can barely eat, sleep, or handle pretty much anything except for lying on the couch with a freakish dog, staring at a wall, or worse - the latest episode of Degrassi, the Next Generation (BTW, can you believe Lexi is stripping now? OMG!! But you've got to admit that Lextacy is a pretty cool stripper name.)
In case you were wondering, here's the freakish dog. (She just got a haircut!)
Actually, she's kind of looking a bit like a stripper in that pose, what with all the exposed naughty bits. What a whore. It's too bad the hookers are gone - she'd fit right in.
But you know what's good for stress? Besides hookers? Really awesome friends. I got the best email from Musically Speaking today that said, among other things:
Don't worry, things will be alright. By the way, have you ever noticed how we always say "running around like a crazy person"? I was just thinking...every crazy person I know sits still and barely talks. Ahhhhhh, doesn't that sound divine? To just sit with your thoughts and reflect on life and things you feel like pondering about...sign me up for the next round of crazy!!! I hope you're doing ok, and know you're very very loved!
Perspective is such a lovely thing. I really wish I had more of it and didn't let things like work get to me. It's difficult when you really care about what you do and want to make sure it's done really well, yet you don't have the (pick one: time/resources/energy/insert other reason here) to make it what it could be. And when you know that this product is going to be a reflection of you and people are going to judge you on its success or lack thereof. It's hard not to get wrapped up in that, you know?
Tomorrow will be a better day - I can feel it.
Because you know what else is good for stress?
This time tomorrow, Superstar will be in my arms, and let me tell you, that guy is getting Ninja Fucked.*
I'm going to give those hookers a run for their money, I am.
*Extra points to anyone who can tell me which obscure Canadian film this is from.
May 4, 2007
This was the phrase I was greeted with when I ran into one of my neighbours earlier this week. She said it so matter-of-factly, like she was talking about mice or ants or something. I had to pause for a moment to figure out if I had heard her correctly.
"The rumour in the neighbourhood is that the hookers have moved in, down the block. I don't know if it's true, but I'm going to find out."
So, I guess the hookers have invaded. Invasion of the hookers. Sounds like a horror movie. Or a porn parody of a horror movie. (Hmmmm...now, that would be interesting. Perhaps the thriving film community in the province would like to take note of that one. Hey, Mr. Filmmaker, I'll let you use my house if you say pretty please and buy me something shiny.)
Well, I guess it was only a matter of time. I do live in HoodLite, after all. I sometimes forget that, because it is a quiet little neighbourhood with a lot of new houses popping up, and my property value has almost doubled in the past six years. But the reality is that a few blocks away, there are some of the poorest living conditions in the country. In fact, a national magazine even declared my 'hood the worst neighbourhood in Canada. (Not sure that was entirely fair, but I'll let the politicians duke that one out.)
I suppose this adds more colour to the block. I mean, we have:
- The white trash neighbours with the baby who get drunk and scream at each other all the time and who also own two very large, unruly dogs that attacked my dog the week they moved in and that also won't shut the fuck up with the barking (like owner, like animal, I suppose);
- The neighbourhood watch army dude who actually goes around catching thugs who are trying to break into houses and sits on them until the cops come;
- The hell's @ngel who tends to a very lovely vegetable garden every summer that no one ever fucks with;
- The vigilante dude who once threw a hammer at a thug trying to steal things off his car and actually hit said thug in the back of the head but didn't end up catching him. He should have called neighbourhood watch army dude;
- My best friend's ex-boyfriend and his new wife. (I had bought this house to live down the block from Marlena. Too bad shortly after I moved in, they split and he got the house);
- Deadbeat house builder dude who started building a brand-new house at the end of the block and then didn't bother finishing it, and now it's a magnet for vandalism and unruly HoodLite urchin children. I wouldn't be surprised if someone torched the thing;
- HoodLite urchin children who are far too young to be running up and down the street by themselves, especially so close to the train tracks;
- And me, the gal who doesn't believe in watering her lawn and who looks forward to that beautiful day in mid-to-late summer when it dies and she no longer has to mow it.
When you have an eclectic collection like that, what's a few hookers? I thought. Plus, I really like saying the word "hookers." It has a good sound to it. Hookers, hookers, hookers. Woo hoo. If they're around, that means I can say it A LOT. How fun is that?
But my neighbour reminded me that there are a lot of kids who walk through the alleys on their way home from a nearby recreational facility. If there are girls 10, 11, 12 walking at night and smarmy men are driving around looking for hookers and decide to try and pick them up...
That image makes me feel ill.
So, now we are trying to figure out a nice way to let the hookers know that they can't stick around in HoodLite, if they are even here. My neighbour was thinking we should all walk around at night until they get the hint. For some reason, this puts the thought into my head of us marching around the block banging pots and pans with wooden spoons. I have no idea why, but that sounds kind of fun.
Hookers, hookers, hookers.