Cowboy boots, Gold Partridges and Date Movies

Didn’t buy the cowboy boots. Yet. Perhaps I will save for a special pair one day.

I start my new part-time job tonight – Screening rep for 20th Century Fox, Alliance films and Maple Pictures. Basically, I am getting paid to go to movie screenings and gauge how good/bad they went by audience reaction.

Tonight’s screening is “He’s Just Not That Into You”. I haven’t gotten free movies since being in radio, so I’m thrilled.

Last night, I purchased an earring stand from Urban Outfitters. I got it on sale for 5 bucks because it is gold coloured. They are selling Green and White ones for $16 bucks. Hello? A little paint goes a long way – and saved me enough to grab Opa! for dinner.

Before and After pics coming soon!

Sasquatch Countdown

The Sasquatch festival line up is to be announced 2 weeks today. Coachella was announced last week with huge acts such as McCartney, Morrissey, and Leonard Cohen in the first evening alone while Bonnaroo boasts Springsteen and my folky faves Jenny Lewis and Neko Case.

I’m aching to see The Decemberists, so I am hoping they are included at The Gorge this summer. Other bands making the festival route that I am hoping will be there are Franz Ferdinand, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Beirut, Antony and the Johnsons, and while I am sure Paul McCartney won’t be there, I am keeping my fingers crossed that Springsteen will be!

Meanwhile, I can’t stop thinking about these Cowboy Boots I saw in the mall yesterday, but didn’t buy. They will be a MUST for Sasquatch. I’m going shopping again tonight.

Ramblings of a near extinct blogger

I used to love to write. I would do it every night into the wee hours of the morning, and I was good. Well, a hell of a lot better than I am now.

Chad was getting worried because he hadn't been sketching the past few weeks. These last couple days the fog has lifted and he has been drawing like crazy. I am trying to drown out the sound of him blowing away eraser crumbs and pencil crayon dust every two seconds. (I have a real problem where repetitive sounds drive me bananas.)

How do I do this? By furiously typing and watching Battlestar Galactica - Season One. Well, not the show, just the menu, that plays the theme on a loop, which is also driving me crazy.

I had a vison/dream I died in a plane crash and the only thing I could think of while I was going down was how to let Chad know I really care for him. Funny how my subconsious admits the things I can't fully admit in waking life.

As for BSG, I've got to put my full attention on the show when I watch it, 'cause DAMN! It's good. Plus, all sorts of people I know are in it... that's weird to see. (Now all you BSG fans, don't go ruining it for me - I got hooked last week, and I only have 4 more episodes to go in the first season)

I'm going to turn my attention to that now and hope that my own, self-induced fog will too, lift soon.

A week or so ago, Chad and I received a notice under our door to report any strange happenings in our apartment building.

Putting together a list: the fights, passed out girls in stairwell at 8am, creepy guy checking door handles, the back door to the building being tampered with every second day, the crackheads (or so I assume) hanging out in either the front of back foyer, looking suspicious, etc, etc etc, we decided we’d better call.

I waited until I was at work to dial the anonymous report line, to find out that the person I suspected was doing the lock tampering (Shady, whom I called the police on) was suspected by everyone. That in fact, the two apartments causing us grief were causing everyone in the building grief. Apparently the aforementioned Shady, does NOT live in our building, he is a known crack dealer and the “lady” passed out on the stairs is a known prostitute in the neighborhood several blocks north of where we live.

Sigh.

The building operator informed me he is trying to get the tenants of both units evicted, but since each unit is privately owned, it makes things difficult. I’m hoping this gets resolved soon, because it’s pretty ridiculous.

Dusty Panther w/Don't Tell Kay

(click for large size)

Should be a sweet show.

Arson Cat demands it.

Reclaiming my Forehead

My plan was to grow out my bangs, and you know, reclaim my forehead.

It’s somewhat disconcerting, when wearing the hair up, to have people look at you strangely because they've never seen your forehead before. People at work claim they don’t even recognize me from a distance.

Growing out bangs is such a pain though. I am reminded of my tumultuous junior high years, when my half grown bangs were in my eyes all the time, shaggy and unkempt, they'd get in my mouth while eating, they'd never sit right. I wish I had a picture to post for you to understand.... maybe not.

Needless to say, upon reliving those chilling memories, walking into the salon, I opted to cut my bangs once again.

The saga continues. The new question is… I am sitting on the brink - right between light and dark…. do I continue my quest to become blonde again, or go back to black?

Shadier Happenings in not so Sunny-view Plaza

Things have gotten progressively stranger since last mention of this.

(the above photo came up when I googled shady people... how could I resist?)

Arriving home one night in the early hours of the morning, we spotted Shady in the building again. He confronted us, explaing that he was sorry for following us in, but he hadn't had a chance to get a key yet for the building door because they were "too expensive". He explained that he did in fact live in that unit (who knows where the lady who lived there went) and that he knew we called the cops on him (eek!).

I apologized, we went our separate ways. Chad wasn't sold. Dude was again totally strung-out on godknowswhat, and he was just awkwardly carrying (like a baby, I might add) a 2L bottle of pepsi while roaming the halls.

Since then, there has been an awful lot of commotion in the apartment between ours (he lives 2 down the hall). Shady comes and goes between the two apartments, and there are many odd characters on our floor making noise at all hours of the night. The aformentioned unit between ours shares a bedroom wall, and they hold parties in there every night of the week. (Am I sounding like a curmudgeonly old woman or what?!) Here's the thing. After the "party", comes the fighting, and the slamming of doors, and the shouting from the parking lot. Ugh.

When Chad went away to Nova Scotia over Christmas, I slept with a heavy frying pan next to the bed. Yes, a frying pan. I will never forget my mother telling me as a young child (probably 6 or so) That when I was older, living on my own, if anyone ever broke into the house, to grab a pot or pan and "Go for the knees".

How sad is it that I feel may have to wake up in the middle of the night and "Go for the Knees"?

This morning, when leaving for work at quarter to 8, Shady's female counterpart (not sure which of the two Units she belongs to) was passed out on the stairs, cigarettes and beer cans scattered around her motionless body. It took her two full minutes to get up and out of the way mumbling "Happy New Year" and trying to act as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. (which, in hindsight I suppose probably is everyday routine)

Umm... Hello? It's MONDAY MORNING AT 8AM!

Sigh.

Merry Christmas or Reasons I love/hate my job: Weirdo #3

I've been hesitant on bringing up weirdo # 3, because for the life of me, I just couldn't figure out how to sum him up. It's true when they say a picture is worth 1000 words - feast your peepers on this treat:


This gem of a Christmas card was left on my desk Friday afternoon. Yes, that is weirdo # 3 in the costume, yes, he is standing in his Mother's living room holding out a gift. Yes, he took a picture of it, and gave it to all the twenty something ladies in the office.

Click the pic to see it in all it's moose-knuckling glory.

Oh, and Merry Christmas everyone!