...still mad at WOW.

sorry julia.




xmas schmexmas.

so in the spirit of christmas, here i am on christmas eve trying to de-irritate myself - so i decide to have a bath. this is shortly ruined by the sound of a woman through my closed windows, about a couple houses down the street greeting each of her guests as they arrive, by yelling festive things...which isn't out of the ordinary , or really in my favour to hate on except for one thing;

she sounds like fran drescher.

yes, even fran drescher has a biography. how do i know? because my mother owns it. my petite sour asian mother who hates most-if-not-all owns fran drescher's biography. of course my mother is the only person who owns this, why wouldn't she?!

i mean, maybe even my mother mistook her for a half Real Doll half Asian cross breed.

who am i to bitch and moan,
with such a long list of credentials, it's a wonder anyone hates her at all. she's also done an Adobe PDF eBook called Cancer Schmancer, and because of such, is toying with running for Congress apparently. i dont think someone entirely composed of poufy hair and an erratic nasal machine gun laugh can do such a thing, but hell, they put a cat in space, what do i know.

thanks france.


bah humbug.

forecast calls for extreme grumpiness.


so i finally have internet again after who knows how long, maybe three weeks? it wasnt too noticable since i had internet access at work, but while being detached from the world it really sunk in hard while i was busy being immobile at home on sick leave from work for nearly two weeks. as if now though, i am officially connected to the axisofweasels.


and i'd like to welcome julia, the latest inductee to the exclusive realm of those ambushed to shave my roomates neck.


find a new god.

well, two out of two hospital visits in two months, and to paraphrase; i'm pretty enraged that one standard question that you're asked by staff/doctors/ambulance peeps alike is "on a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?"

i don't kmow. you tell me? why did it take a call for back up men, 5 men to lift me onto a stretcher, one to strap me in while i was flailing and yelling as if on a rollercoaster and not to mention in the glorious heart of parkdale last night? oh, also my favorite scent is basil, i prefer willow trees to birch, mood colour red, age group 18-25, dominant planet saturn... thanks cosmo, AM I NEEDY??!

fed up, last night i asked forcefully "SERIOUSLY??!? ONE TO TEN??!" and then they repeat the question as though it's the most mandatory medical question used to determine an injury. i responded TWENTY, even though i did however mean 45 BILLION INFINITY YOU ASSHOLES, MY KNEECAP LOOKS LIKE A GOLF BALL ORBITING WHAT USED TO BE A FUNCTIONAL JOINT.

on the upside i did get the presidential suite of the hospital , full fuctional surgery room, complete with knockout gas and right beside the airborne-disease-dying-people fishtank. on the downside, EVERYTHING. it's kinda hard to pinpoint whether it was the incident itself, the low blood pressure for the first time in my life resulting in the inability to get morphine throughout this, the 8 hrs in emerg, the fracture clinic 3 hrs later in the "morning", the wearing of this brace/splint/crutches for the next three weeks, or never having finished the croissant i was eating in the first place.

this whole situation between a dog, the best luck in the world, a croissant, a desk corner, and my knee cap is mostly just enraging. by pure fluke i'm left barely able to wipe my own ass in this stupid leg brace/stint for the next three weeks.

i hope i'll recover to play the clarinet again.

when life gives you a dislocated knee,

You end up staying in the hospital for 8hrs unable to walk.


the internet i've been stealing for the past year and a half has newly smartened up and locked their connection,

expect rants to be fewer and far between, as well as n00dz.
me and julia just played xbox till 6am , we may as well be institutionalised.



i'll be the first to confess, i'm a complete scrooge. i'll take any accusations in stride. i loathe christmas with my entire being because 99% of it is comprised of things i hate. i think the most painful part of the entire christmas season is the constant web of lies i create leading up to christmas just because it's easier then explaining anything, specifically at work when every second question from customers becomes "what're your big christmas plans!???"
being balls deep in the immediate post-halloween-pre-empty-walleted christmas season brings the usual christmas agenda; the giving of cards, the lack of family, the hiding, the denial of christmas, the avoidance of christmas, the christmas day day-long slumber. this year may bring me a joint anti-traditional-christmas-hangout i believe, although i am worried that old habits die hard.
i've been giving myself more daily tlc brain time to stop and think about things, my brain wanders well. most of this time usually happens while decked out in spandex on an elliptical machine of sorts because gyming is the best thing to clear my mind, ever. i'm trying to get back to the peak fitness i had achieved last march-ish before patio season kicked in - the time of year where the seasons change, flowers and love blossom, and i con myself into thinking that nachos and beer are all the nourishment i need for 6 meals a day. i digress, i've been thinking long and hard about family, or my lack thereof. half by choice, half not; family is a weird word. friends as family is what i believe. i don't know if it was brought on by americanized thanksgiving the other day or just trying to tap into a pure source of christmas spirit, but i am thankful a million times over for all my friends who have been there for me, and all the ones who haven't but have meant well for the most part. you're all the family i'll ever need.
i'm not saddened by my lack of blood relatives, but just twice as appreciative of the family i've accumulated over the years not forced upon by blood, but by bonds far thicker.

i don't intend on pushing any of my scrooge-o-tology beliefs on anyone , i apologize if that's what this translates to. i promise to not be perma-crabby for the next month, i'll bite my tongue when anyone is gloating about wishlists or received gifts, just don't expect me to be the first to fight to put tinsel on the tree.

i keep on getting called fat and poor at work and all i can think of is how i've silent deathed my mother to avoid this.

then again, life could be worse im sure.