Canteen Explorer Pie Legs

Dull moments don't exist in my life right now. I work 12-16 hour days and the weekends are no break.

Let's see... on Friday after work I drove over to Jane's apartment after having a nervous breakdown about a plaid dress. I got there and started drinking out of a green canteen and ended up at an "Explorer" themed birthday party in Westchester. I was talking to some big black guy on a tiny balcony for hours about his job. Apparently he watches TV for the government and "fixes" it when "things go wrong." Although when I think about it now he is probably just some stoner who watches TV all day and thinks he works for the government. Then I got pie all over my legs and washed them off in the sink with some guy who had a mohawk. Woke up on Jane's couch. Left early, went home.

Got home to find 3 Scottish men, the naked guy who lives downstairs, and his friend Jeremy all huddled around the table in the backyard.

Poutine Thievery

So on Saturday I woke up and thought to myself, "Holy SHIT I feel/look like a blob. I have to do something." Four hours later I have cut off a foot of my hair and spent 200 dollars on clothes. Which is not normal for me...at all. By the way H&M is terrible right now, I might as well have gone to the Gap. Maybe in the Gap they won't have music playing that goes, "And then I saw your name on iChat..." WHA? I showed my dad my new haircut yesterday and he said "You look like an international supermodel, like your dad." Ha. Anyway, Saturday night I went to see Japanther at Sala Rossa, where I got 100 dollars stolen from my backpack. I also got in a FIGHT (?!) I was dancing in front of this girl and she kept hitting me. I said to Sarah, "That cunt won't stop hitting me." Later the bitch found me and asked me if I wanted to STEP! HaAHA. Later on I got onstage with the band Ninjasonik? I didn't even end up staying for Japanther, I ditched my friends, got a pita and passed out. 

In other news, it's snowing again. Fuck this fucking poutine stand of a city. 

I'm so excited to go back to LA right now.

Also, I'm sorry, but Frank Zappa's lyrics/song titles are amazing. "Jazz Discharge Party Hats" and "Evelyn, a modified dog, viewed the quivering fringe of a special doily draped across the piano, with some surprise." I dunno why those come to mind, but I couldn't have said it better myself. 

Parmesan Eyeball Monkey

I have been having the MOST disturbing dreams lately. I guess I had one inspired by the man with the removable face. My mom forced me to get plastic surgery (apparently I didn't have a choice) and they removed my entire face. I was just two eyeballs and a brain. Then they gave me this other face to clip onto my face. I was especially disturbed by my nose which was just flat. I dunno, the dream was so real and so vivid I woke up so stressed out. 

Then last night I had a dream that I was at one of my parents' parties. I was swimming in the pool when I looked up and saw a human-monkey thing watching me from the kitchen window. I went inside and there were 5 monkeys that all came up to my hip but and were basically miniature people. I dunno.

ANYWAY.

I tried to watch the Godfather for the hundredth time yesterday. It didn't work. I can't tell the difference between any of the characters. They all look the same.

I made the best eggplant parmesan in the world. YEAH. 

Smelly Beings Organization

So one stupid night I was drunk and making out with a dude. The next day I woke up next to my friend and said "Shit! I can't believe I made out with someone, I smelled sooo bad!" Then I expected her to be like NAW GIRL YOU SMELLED GREAT. But she said "Whatever dude, drunk people smell like shit."

Then today I asked my friend if vegetarians' farts smelled worse. She said "All farts are worse" and then told me that when her vegetarian sister sleeps she smells like shit.

I really like the idea of just your state of existence being smelly. 

Pathetic Soulmate

Could I be any more pathetic right now? My roommates are gone again. They all have boyfriends so I'm never invited. I have to get all fancy tonight and go to see the Orchestre Symphonique de Montreal by myself. At least I get to wear my Alexander McQueen dress. I lost the TV remote like a week ago so my TV is stuck on Much Music (the WORST Canadian channel probably aimed at 14 year old girls in 1996). I've seen the finale of America's Best Dance Crew 4 times. I've been playing Boggle against the computer all day. On top of all this I had to create a blog about Frank Zappa for one of my classes which makes me feel exponentially more pathetic. I'm not linking it. 

The weirdest thing happened to me a couple days ago. I was walking to school and this guy walked past me. He was tall and French and scruffy. It was like, out of a movie. All of the sudden I had tunnel vision and felt like I was connected to him with a string. I stopped walking and just stared and had the weirdest feeling rush over me. OK, I see hot guys all the time that I drool over, but this was just weird. I THINK HE WAS MY SOULMATE? Oh soulmate, I've lost you forever. 

On another note, I've pretty much decided that the depths of Hell are filled with Tyra Banks audience members. And you are the teen that wants to get pregnant.

Naked Cheques

By the way, I suggest NOT showing up at my curtainless window at 2 AM unless you want to see ~my everything~. ie: me, drunk, naked, sitting at my desk writing cheques. 

K!

Studly Fleiss Parrot

I went to Toronto for a week and on the train ride back I watched the BEST documentary on youtube. Internet on the train? It was about Heidi Fleiss trying to make a man brothel or a "Stud Farm." She is so one of those Hollywood people who say they're gonna do something really big and exciting but are actually just eating macaroni and cheese in a truck. She can't string one sentence together and all in all is terrifying BUUUT  she made friends with her neighbor- a 90 year old ex-madame who lived with 2390482 exotic birds. Heidi fell in love with a parrot named Dalton. The old lady died and left all her birds to Heidi, so now she lived in Nevada with 23908230 birds like a zombie. The whole time I was wondering if it was actually an episode of Intervention.

 Heidi Fleiss' dad was my pediatrician. 

Also, that sweater. ~*Pandering*~

Rewarding Trimester Battery

Christ! I figured out what to do when you're really bored. Have a really big loud fight with your ex boyfriend for two hours! I mean...it's not too boring. 

I just tried getting my laundry out of the machine for four hours, no exaggeration. It REALLY freaked me out because all of my clothes were in there. If anyone knows me at all they know I change my outfit 3 times a year. So...this trimester's outfit was stuck in the washing machine. 

I just realized, I always think I should reward myself. For doing nothing. I'm sitting in bed playing online Jeopardy and think OMG I SHOULD REALLY HAVE A REWARD RIGHT NOW! Or I'm making the cat follow an olive pit around the house and think OMG I SHOULD HAVE A REWARD!

What.

I'm so totally baffled by these kids I knew in high school who still think they need to flaunt their drug-use and the fact that they have popped and snorted and smoked everything the world has to offer. What THE FUCK? We've all moved on besides you...

I really want to see where they'll be in...5 years even. 

BY THE WAY: I realized a couple of months ago that I have never had a sloppy joe. And I still haven't had one. Everyone tells me it's nothing special but those Manwich commercials get me really excited. 

And...before last week I had never seen a kitten in person. Only pictures. Cats were never even an idea growing up for me. 

Which makes me seem really sheltered (and the fact that I will never be able to use a canopener as long as I live). But I guarantee I have done a shitload of things normal people haven't done. ie: Walk down an Icelandic highway half naked with a jester hat on, lost for 5 hours. 

K?

I'm really afraid that I wrote 23908423 times better blog (livejournal) entries when I was 14.

Honey-crab Guatemalan Fried Chicken

NO ONE wants to read about how bored someone else is. But whatever. I am so genuinely bored.  Not just right now- but in general. 

I'm lying here in a pile of magazines and instruments, eating entire cucumbers and chain smoking in bed. I have no job- and it's nearly impossible to get a job here if you aren't fluent in French. Unless I want to work at a call center and kill myself. 

It's so hard to go outside at -30 degrees, and guess what? The groundhogs say we are in for six more weeks of winter. 

My little sister called me last night and said, "I heard you are bored." I'm glad news is a'travelin. She's so adorable though. Then she goes, "Get a pen and a piece of paper." I am eating handfuls of cereal and say "OK." She says, "No really! Get a piece of paper." So I got a piece of paper and she says: "I want you to go to the bookstore and buy Demian by Herman Hesse and Leaves of Grass by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Then go to the grocery store and buy those giant pasta shells and find the weirdest combination to stuff it with- like crab and honey. Then go to a cheap store and buy the marshmallowiest socks you can find. Go home, make the pasta, put on the socks, put on some Philip Glass, light some candles and read for five days."

Dang girl. That's a lot to ask from the laziest bitch in town. 

Oof. I'm being a huge bitch to everyone. I don't mean to, but I'm so fed up. I don't know how to meet people. I don't understand at the beginning of classes how everyone is chatting. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW EACH OTHER? Dumb bitches. I can never meet people at school or normal places. Only in public bathrooms, dollar stores, and maybe sometimes a bar.

I went to this bar on Saturday with my friend Emily. It was so damn crowded and I ended up losing her. I went outside to smoke and maybe see if she'd come out. But all I found were dirty old men. A 600 pound 48 year old hillbilly who was completely bald except for a dangling rat's tail saw me and went "Oh my god...WHERE DID YOU GET THAT SMILE?" and tried to kiss my hand. Then a 60 year old Guatemalan. 

Meanwhile, I found out later, my friend was making out with some hot French guy in his car. 

I'm so lucky. 

Sometimes I just want to eat fried chicken until the cows come home. 

Vicious Winter Funk Hot Dog

Well so much shit has happened I don't even care to recap.

I'm back in Montreal. My roommates disappeared five days ago, so I've been in this giant apartment alone. It's so empty and hollow and echoey.

I'm drinking some wine in my big empty apartment in a hard wooden office chair at a hard metal desk with cats on my pillows. I'm having one of those moments where I really want to start eating better, exercising, and getting up early. It'll pass. I wish it wouldn't but it will. 

I'm trying to sing some songs but I lost my voice yesterday.

I am taking a break from drawing the backs of people's heads and noses with fingers stuck in them.

I look like I grew a bunch of freckles on my nose but I actually just scratched the shit out of my face in my sleep creating tiny brown scabs on my nose. I would be really hawt with freckles. I should have more nightmares.

I went into the woodshop last week to rip apart some chairs and put them back together. The woodshop technician was telling me all these crazy stories. There was a shooting at my school many years ago. A professor shot four students. A couple months ago a drunk guy threw a bicycle through the window of the VAV gallery, and a hobo tried to steal the security guard's lunch. 

Yesterday I went to a party and the theme was "fat." Actually such a good theme. Rubbed stuffed pillow bellies on the dancefloor and ate mini hot dogs. 

I accidentally hooked up with a 17 year old kid who looked like Sid Vicious last week. We now affectionately refer to him as Kid Vicious. Oops, I still have his badass skunk tank top. No more hookups. I want to be celibate for a while. Which might be difficult considering my vibrator has mysteriously disappeared. How does a thing like that disappear?

I can feel myself getting into some sort of French Canadian winter funk. Shit. I need some vitamin D and a van and some music and a lake. It's not easy to be cheery when I have to wear an ankle length coat that makes me look like either a giant upright caterpillar or a giant black tampon.