Monday, February 16, 2009

And so it goes...again

So, you would think that I'm just here at 9:30 to dash off a quick blog before work.

You would be wrong.

Because in order to do that, one must have a job, which I no longer do.

"What the fuck???" you say. "Pina, last week you had TWO new jobs. Now you have none? How can this be?? You're super smart, and we mean SUPER smart (although we know the theory of everything sounds like bull shit to you- it does to us too) not to mention gorgeous and all that, so we just don't get it!!"

Well folks, neither do I.

I was once fired at a store called Roots for not having enough "Rootsitude" and I laughed while she was firing me because "Rootsitude" is a fucking made up word, and you can't fire someone with a made up word, I looked it up in "The Big Book of Jobs" when I was trying to see if strippers, I mean candy stripers have to pay taxes the way everyone else does, and there it was- Rule 467- "If you fire someone with a made up word, they can laugh in your face because you are a super douche" Totally true.

Now I would gladly take that shit job back on my knees.



Sunday, February 15, 2009

For all of you that are stuck on what to serve your hungry little brats on hallowed President's Day, look no further!!
The good folks at RecipeSource have sent me the PERFECT meal idea for you!
It looks so good, that I couldn't help but re post it for you me, you and your kids will thank me later.

Categories: Main dish
Yield: 8 servings

1 pk Frozen french fry potatoes,
-thawed (20 oz)
2 c Shredded Cheddar cheese
2 c Sour cream
1 cn Condensed cream of chicken
-soup (10 3/4 oz)
1 cn SPAM Luncheon Meat, cubed
-(12 oz)
1/2 c Chopped red bell pepper
1/2 c Chopped green onion
1/2 c Finely crushed corn flakes

Heat oven to 350'F. In large bowl, combine potatoes, cheese, sour
cream, and soup. Stir in SPAM, bell pepper, and green onion. Spoon
into 13x9″ baking dish. Sprinkle with crushed flakes. Bake 30-40
minutes or until thoroughly heated.

Yummy, huh??

You're Welcome!!

Friday, February 6, 2009

On what is officially my last day as an unemployed lazy assed couch sitter who has watched every single episode of CSI Vegas (the ones with Lady Heather the dominatrix are my fave, because you know Grissom is in to some creepy shit and he seems to know a LOT about the domination/submissive culture) and they did do that episode about the furries, an issue I have a real problem with, but I didn't have much else to do.
It used to just be sports mascots that would send me screaming into the nearest bathroom stall when one was coming any where near me, but at least those people are doing a job, they're getting paid, paying taxes, etc. but plushies or furries or whatever they are called, these people get off by rubbing up against each other in giant raccoon or bunny or floppy eared beagle costumes headed costumes *shudders* and they fly all over the country to meet up with chickens and cats and...well you get the idea.
I know there is a name for this fetish, but I'm just to lazy to look it up, so you could go do it if you want.
They even have a bunch of made up words to describe what they do to each other at conventions, and the mental image I have now put in my own head of stuffed animals climbing all over each other has totally made me want to cry, or vomit, or both, I should move on to the real blog.
In April of last year I bought a camera. Just one of the higher end Canon point and shoots, and I started taking pictures. Some of the ones that I love the most (although they are tragic in nature) Usually, I would go downtown to the part of Vancouver where the walking dead get their dope, and I would give them a pack of smokes, or maybe a hot lunch, to let me take their pictures, and have them tell me their life stories. My whole idea was to contribute stories and photos to Sara's website on Myspace called "The Bum Chronicles."
I got some pretty good photos, and some really tragic life stories, stories that needed to be told even if it was just to remind all of us how much we have in comparison to others. To show that in spite of the fact that Canada has universal medical, and programmes to help people living on the streets, usually fleeing from situations far, far worse than sleeping in a doorway and pan handling for dope money, that just for a short time we should remind ourselves just how lucky we are, and just how poorly our social systems are being run, or even that a hot meal may be something that means far more to someone who hasn't eaten well in months that someone cared.
I took a lot of pictures, listened to a lot of stories (most of which would make even the hardest hearted person tear up) and I came home and started to write.
Then I hit a wall, big time.
It was the worst case of writer's block I've ever had since I learned to write "I love you Daddy" with my big box of 64 coloured Crayola crayons.
I couldn't make the words fit with the pictures, or vice versa. The words were there, but they were jammed in, stuck, and were not moving and no matter how I tried to get them out, the bigger the word log jam became.
And it sucked.
I kept all the notes and the pictures, figuring that when it was time, they would come together. Probably like a massive geyser, but they would come. And since I was sick, and not working, I was sure I would be able to write, I mean I had nothing but miles of empty days stretching out in front of me.
Still, 7, 8, 9 10 months passed and those stories and ideas and the ability to get them down, even on paper stayed stuck like the nasty gum that plastered the underside of my Grade 2 desk.

Until last night.

I sat down, and I started to write, and it was exactly as I thought it would be. Old faithful sputtered out some steam and then it felt like it was exploding. I couldn't type fast enough. I was up all night, and I managed to get out three separate blogs/articles.

The words and pictures came together like a 5,000 piece jigsaw puzzle.

They're raw, and need editing, but I feel like a huge part of my brain just cleared itself the way an early morning fog will suddenly disappear, revealing the bright blue sky, and the first warm Spring day when you need only a light sweater to keep the breeze off your shoulders.

And while I am a big fan of irony, especially the dripping, delicious irony of rain on your wedding day (that's for YOU, Char) it looks like after a whole year where I could have been writing every damn day, the words chose to come with one day left before I will have an entire free day to myself until at least April...the end of hockey season.

Stupid brain.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Sometimes the Universe gives you some good stuff back...

I have written a few blogs over the last year bemoaning my health, my money issues, boyfriend (or lack of) woes, my chronic pain, loneliness and unemployment.
Suffice to say, the last year has sucked it.
Some women think turning 40 is just a number and attach no real significance to it- 40 is the new 30, you're only as old as you feel blah de blah blah.
Now I don't know if it's the turning 40, or if I was just due for a bad year because I'd had 3 or 4 good ones in a row..(I'm a glass is half empty kinda chick to begin with) but I repeat, this last year sucked,
And hard.
I won't go through the litany (and bore the hell out of every one who has listened to me pontificate from the pity pot) but today, I got a little bit of the good stuff back.
I've been unemployed on a full time basis since about May, some it because of illness, some because it's no longer an employees market here, and competition is stiff -I said stiff. Heh- but it has been really tough (notice what word I didn't use) to find any barely above poverty level paying job here.
I've had to string two and three part time jobs together, over use both my credit cards and I've beaten my overdraft like a dead mule.
I've sent out over 350 Resumes, been to God knows how many interviews, and have laid a big fat dodo egg landing only a job that gave me no more than 7 5 hour shifts in an entire month.
That was until today.
As I was finishing getting ready to head out for a second interview for an HR position of 25-30 hours per week, my phone rang, and I was offered another job that I even forgot I had interviewed for as a weekend/night auditor in a bed and breakfast starting Saturday.Only part time, but still...
So off I go with a little more hop in my step to Interview two where the Managing partner tells me that she has no need to look any further, that I'm exactly who she needs and is looking for. She hires me, announcing to the ten people in the waiting room that the HR position has been filled, but that there are still sales positions available.
I start that job Monday morning. It's semi part time, but since I get to set my own schedule, I do not need to give up either the B&B job, or the Beer wench job and between the three jobs, I'll really only be putting in a 45-50 hour week, and I will be able to start to caw my way out of the Grand Canyon of debt that I've been camping out in, eating cold Spaghettios and meatballs.
It will also help with my new obsession...ebay.
See, sometimes the Universe is not too shabby after all, and the glass is looking a wee bit more half full than half empty. ( Of course,that could also be because of the big splash of Vodka I added.)

Monday, February 2, 2009

My Friend and Mentor (and now worst enemy) tagged me in 25 things about me (I fucking hate tags) but here we go.

1. I have 4 cats. They annoy me endlessly.
2. I am the oldest of two girls. (I'm the fun one)
3. Women who can't drive stick shift (or drive it badly) should have one finger cut off. (their choice of finger, of course.) What am I, a Mafioso?
4. I can put me feet behind my head. (creepy, huh?)
5. I have only been in love, truly in love, twice. (that worked out well)
6. I love cheese more than any other food on Earth.
7. I am not a shoe girl, but I LOOOVE boots. (not hat I would turn down a free pair of Laboutins...)
8. I HATE Internet Explore. I'm a Firefox girl all the way.
9. Pansies are my favourite flower.
10. I am phobic of stuffed mascots. They scare the living shit out of me.
11. I love food that starts with the letter P. Pizza, Popcorn..ok you get it
12. I have never seen a single episode of lost. Nor do I care to.
13. Sometimes I will eat only orange foods for weeks. I know, weird.
14. I lived in Istanbul for 9 months and Greece for 3.
15. I swear waaaaay too much. Ah fuck it, who cares. If you know me, you know this already.
16. I despise socks.
17. I don't tuck my sheets in for the same reason I hate socks. I am afraid there will be a fire and my feet will get all tangled and I'll burn to death, which is the worst death ever. Except maybe being crucified. That would hut a lot I think.
18. Anything pink should be put in a huge pile and set on fire. Sort of like the Burning Man Festival.
19. I have 7 tattoos. No, you can't see them.
20. 2 Is my favourite number, Uneven numbers bug me.
21. The only bug/creepy crawly I am afraid of if is the earwig. Those things go in your ear and lay eggs. It's true Science. You could look it up.
22. Black is my favourite colour. it IS a colour, too. Look that up as well.
23. I suffer horribly from Insomnia. Always have.
24. Spring and Fall are my favourite seasons.
25. I spell with the U because IT IS NOT SUPERFLUOUS!!

The End.

About Me

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There's not much to know. Well, what there is to know is really not for sharing. Ever.