Sleep.in.Ideas

Someone Please Call 911

2009-01-24T13:24:00.003-05:00

So I'll be closing down this blog, having opened another one. Posts will be deleted either chronologically or in favor of content.
Thanks to those who happened by.

organizedrhyme.blogspot.com is the new link.

For My One Reader ;-)

2008-12-08T13:48:00.004-05:00

It seems as though my computer is being reluctant to allow me to post my reply, forcing me to resort to an entry. So, in the event that you happen to stumble back upon my page, you've earned an entry all to yourself.
I'm just hoping that my prior attempts at publishing the post did not result in you receiving the same exact comment on your page like 50 times... if so, I apologize profusely:P

Hmm...I was saying something along the lines of how blogging - for anyone who does it, at least - seems to share a mutual reason for existing... Expression, yea? In some way, shape, or form, we all get on here to do, in essence, the same thing. For me, I had a blog a few years back that I actually kept regular, but I've lost the touch, I guess.

Both of our childhood stabbings reinforce my thoughts towards children - or at the very least, the select few we've come into contact with - being evil. :)

From what I've seen of your eye - both of them - they look good to me. That is what I would call lucky.

Welcome Back to...no, not Facebook. Google Blog thing...

2008-02-01T15:58:00.000-05:00

I just spent the better part of an hour reviewing my 'blog', followed by fifteen minutes of "bacon, facebook and Jack Black. There's been a noticeable amount of time in between now and the last time I bothered myself to compose an entry. Well, to all of my readers, (and yes by 'readers' I do mean you, Patricia) go to hell! I've been busy.
Sort of.
In the months following August through to December, I spent the better part of my life in Oakville, hating it and being miserable. Luckily for me though, it ended on a wonderful note...those of you that know the situation, note the sarcasm.
And so now... oh yea, well I guess I ought to mention that yours truly is going to be a mom in just over two months! Who knew kissing could lead to such a thing!?
I've also had the bittersweet experience of being accepted into Humber College and finally got my ass to school last month. Judging from the way things have been going, I'll be lucky if I finish the end of the first semester.

I thought that perhaps I'd have a lot more to say considering it's been like 5 months, but...well I do need to pee and... my back hurts. Plus in 9 minutes, Young and the Restless will begin, so I've got to get all that taken care and then maybe, just maybe, I'll be back.

And hopefully, you too.

sleep.in.ideas

SILF

2007-08-20T10:35:00.001-04:00

So I'm in bed and it's just after midnight. I couldn't sleep for the life of me and I was starting to get angry. Have I done something to the sleep-gods to deserve this? I thought. Insomnia is only good for a triple-feature drive in...and well, I did that the night before.
So, where the hell was my sleep?

I got to thinking... I got to thinking real hard and for some reason I started to smell smoke.
No, no I didn't. That was a lie. My brain was not on fire.
But, I was in fact thinking. About what? You ask. Well that's a good question. I was thinking about the Sealy Serta commercial ads on tv...the ones with the sheep. I figured counting sheep was a common enough strategy to gain some zzzzz's, so I did just that.

By the time I'd reached seven, I'd gotten anxious and jumped straight to thirteen. From thirteen, I was getting a little bit bored and considered halting the count-up. But I was still wide awake and desperate for sleep.
So twenty-three rolled around the corner and I couldn't help but wonder, where do the sheep go? I mean really... I'm at twenty-three, what if twenty-two landed wrong, sprained his ankle and couldn't move. Here comes big, fat twenty-three doing a canon-ball over the fence (my sheep were jumping a fence in a nice meadow) and lands on top of him. Of course twenty-four won't know and he's gonna just hop the fence too and the next thing you know there's a pile up of sheep.

Well, to keep it simple and stop myself from having to clean up after their stupid mess, I decided to only have one sheep to count. He was a lazy bastard, that's why I chose him. He ran laps pretty much, up and over and up and over. He pouted and heaved and sighed... and his tongue hung out of his mouth. And just as he started to suffer from fatigue and exhaustion, I fell asleep.

sleep.in.ideas

An entry from Dec 2002

2007-08-03T11:15:00.000-04:00

Murder was the only way

A tortured soul began

Misconceptions had their day

When fearfully, she ran

The murder was that of her heart

Her tortured soul: denial

Her life is something that imitates art

Her confidence: a downwards spiral

They say everything in general

but 'general' drilled to her bone

They say their shit in general

but 'general's' not when you're alone

Can ignorance truly be bliss?

Our lack of knowledge be okay?

Can a kiss be more than a kiss?

When we've got such bullshit to say?

Anger replaced her confidence,

her loneliness and fear

Her 'tortured soul' splattered a picket fence

'Murder' hung lamely in the air.

Underneath the entry, I'd noted down a few things 1) "I think it sucks now that I've read it a few times." and 2) The poem was regarding a racist graffiti image in a school washroom. Anyway... I'll likely be adding a few more.

sleep.in.ideas.

Grudges

2007-07-31T12:33:00.000-04:00

Extra strength 'premium clumping litter' acts as an ottoman for my feet as I sit and contemplate the grudge I hold against my brother. I'm halfway through a load of laundry and the intrusive thought of 'letting bygones be bygones' roams insistantly through my mind without reprieve. Without hesitation, I'm usually one to do so, let things go. Holding grudges can tend to represent an act of immaturity, an unwillingness to let go of the past and just grow.

A week ago, a friend of mine was nice enough to compliment me in a way which made me feel better as a whole person. The comment made me think of the ways in which I affect the people in my life. To some, I may incur feelings of anger; to others, perhaps feelings of joy.

For my brother, apparently he seeks approval from me. I've affected him in such a way that he now strives to gain my trust. For those close enough to me to know what he's done, you'll likely also know that I've practically denied having a brother for an extended period of time. However, I've come to a point where I no longer feel such animosity towards him, but at the same time, I'm not yet ready to forgive and forget.

There are certain things in life that can't be swept under the rug. Though as I said before, sometimes you've got to let go.

Not yet sure which path to follow.

sleep.in.ideas.

More useless crap

2007-07-26T22:41:00.000-04:00

10 Years ago

1.) How old were you: 12
2.) Where did you go to school: Park Public School
3.) Where did you live: Jarvis and Dundas
4.) Where did you hang out: Uhh... Home.
5.) Did you wear glasses: No
6.) Who was your best friend: Cindy, I think.
7.) Who was your regular-person crush: Probably Paultin or Quoc
8.) How many piercings did you have: Two
9.) What car did you drive: Didn't drive.
10.) Had you been to a real party: No
11.) Had your heart broken: No
12.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: Single
Five years ago

1.) How old were you: 17
2.) Where did you go to school: Central Technical School
3.) Where did you work: No job at 17.
4.) Where did you live: Same place.
5.) Where did you hang out: Need I answer...
6) did u wear glasses?: No
7.) Who was your best friend: Cindy
8.) Who was your regular-person crush:There were quite a few. The ones I remember: Ryan, Ricky Trecartin, Matt Poch. ...
9.) How many tattoos did you have: None
10.) How many piercings did you have: Still two
11.) What car did you drive: Didn't drive.
12.) Had you been to a real party: Doubt it, but don't remember.
13.) Had your heart broken: No
14.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: Single
Present day

1.) How old are you: 22
2.) Where did you go to school: Central Tech
4.) Where do you live: Have lived in three different addresses since Jarvis
5.) Where do you hang out: Bars. Malls. Home.
6.) Do you wear glasses: No
7.) Who is your best friend: Cindy
8.) Who is your regular-person crush: The Rock=)
10.) How many piercings do you have: Six
11.) What car do you drive: Don't drive
12.) Have you been to a real party: Yes
13.) Had your heart broken: Yea
14.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: Engaged/Common-law

sleep.in.ideas.

2007-07-24T02:24:00.000-04:00

You.
Can.
Only.
Type.
One.
Word.

Not as easy as you might think.

Where is your cell phone? Purse
Your boyfriend/girlfriend? Bed
Your hair? Thick
Do you like someone? Yes
Your father? Drunk
Your favorite thing? Words
Your dream last night? Murder
Your favourite drink? Vodka
Your dream car? Enzo
The room you're in? Living
Your ex? Nonexistent
You are? Yes.
What do you want to be in 10 years? Mother
Who did you hang out with last night? Drew
What you're not?Green
Muffin? Sure
An item you want for Christmas? House
Where is the love? There
The last thing you did? Backspace
What are you wearing? Skirt
Your TV? LCD
Your pet? Two
Your computer? Laptop
Your life? Bullocks
Your mood? Bored
MISSING? Alcohol
What are you thinking about right now?Food
Your car? None
Your work? Work?
Your summer? Cool
Your favorite colour? Shade
When is the last time you laughed? Today
Last time you cried? Today
Friends? Where?
This survey? Go

Stolen from ... ugh, you know who you are.

sleep.in.ideas.

Will You...

2007-07-17T21:51:00.000-04:00

Will you curl my toes
or
Will you make me clench my fists

Will you give it to me like that
or
Will you give it to me like this

Will you open your heart
or
Will you close your soul

Will you be for real
or
Will you play a role

Will you say you love me
if it isn't true
Will you go so far as to
say 'I do'

Will you be my life
and let me be your wife
Will you smile at my sight
And will you love me just right

Because ...

I want to curl your toes
While you give it to me like that
I want to open your soul
Just to see where you're at

I want to feel your heart beat
While you give it to me like this
I want to feel your real heat
No need for clenched fists

I will say I love you
and it will always be true
I will walk down the isle
and say 'I do.'

I will be your life
And
I will be your wife

I will smile at your sight
Because
I know this is right.

sleep.in.ideas.

God. Parents?

2007-07-16T23:57:00.000-04:00

My family is the precise reason I don't go around my family.
Take this past Saturday's wedding of my cousin:
'Hi Sissy(childhood nic)/Trish/Patricia/Victoria/Rene/Cuz, wow I haven't seen you since you were (insert gesture the size of approximately two feet) this big, remember me?'
"Well, gee. Let me think about it. I was probably wearing diapers and having my food fed to me still, but yes, yes I do remember you. We haven't spoken or kept in touch by any other means, but of course, you are still fresh in my memory. How could I forget you Lisa?"
'It's Lynn.'
"Hey, I was close enough."

Seriously though, how are you, as my flesh and blood, upset that I've forgotten you when neither of us have made any attempts at contact? More often than not, you knew me as I was a child. Well, guess what happened? I grew the fuck up! So it's time to re-introduce your damned self.
Is that so hard?
Shit!

And my favourite (cause the above, is pretty much what happened at the wedding) was my Godfather. And by favorite I mean just who the fcuk do you think you are? My Godfather or something? Oh yes, that's right...Well shut up anyways.
We're at the reception. I'm sitting with Andrew, my brother Patrick, Uncle and Aunt, and another Aunt's boyfriend. I was about to sit down when my Godmother calls me aside and asks whether she should be angry now, or later. (Case in point, I'd seen her throughout the ceremony without greeting, well fuck, I wasn't sure it was her. Better safe than sorry...Can't just walk up to any random white folk and say 'Hi Godma'...or whatever it is people say). So, I let her know straight up I wasn't sure it was her earlier, but said hi and did the 'how are you's' anyway. Here comes Goddaddy. Stepping in like he was my actual father. Like he raised me. On the verge of arguing as to why I haven't kept in touch.
Is it rude to say I forgot about you? Perhaps.
So, on my knees, I sit there for a good five minutes getting a lecture from a man I didn't even recognize.

I love the hypocrisy though. He says he hasn't seen me since I was a baby. Maybe true, I don't fcuking know. If that was the case... uhm, dude how am I supposed to know who you are? How am I supposed to make any type of effort at contacting someone I don't know? And if you haven't heard from me, why don't you pick up the damn phone?!
"You still live with your mom, right?"
Well, hmm... if you were an involved Godparent, you'd know I moved out four years ago. But, I suppose the onus is on me to present you with that information.
Right.
To top it off, I've been forced to take their number cause "they're not getting any younger." Nor am I, old folk. Nor. Am. I.
Luckily for him - my Godmother wasn't that bad, she had mercy - I have manners.

For the most part, I'd wished everyone would just "We're related somehow so give me a hug, cuz. Love you. Take care, bye." and leave it at that.

Of course they have to make it difficult... "Yes, I remember you." Said with a downwards glance and an awkward sideways shuffle to greet the next family member they 'remember.'

sleep.in.ideas.

Another Song...

2007-07-16T23:10:00.000-04:00

Baleful events master the art of expression. Uninterrupted, without exception.

Why?

The passing of one week has all but erased the memory from my mind. It was I who had to remind him that we blame softly, praise loudly, yet I'd not taken my own words to heart.

Thank you, love.

sleep.in.ideas.

100 Things

2007-07-16T21:43:00.000-04:00

100 Things you may or may not know about me...

I have three names: Victoria Irene Patricia
I'd like to pursue a career teaching English
In third grade, my tooth fell out while in class and my teacher would not permit me to spit out the blood that came with it.
I love horror movies, but often have nightmares the same evening.
I look more like my father than my mother.
I wrote small pieces for an independent magazine while in high school.
I feel like an antisocial introvert a lot. I think I have to work on my people skills.
I fear I may have inherited the 'alcoholic' gene... is that possible?
Alcohol releases a lot of my inhibitions.
I have no rhythm.
I like to tell stories that tend to have no point, just for the sake of it
I'm very argumentative. Not in a challenging manner per se, but in a way which allows another point of view to be seen.
I once wanted to be a liar...lawyer. Honest mistake.
I've deleted a blog that had two years or so worth of postings on it... the things you do for love.
I miss the family I used to have, but I'm not willing to work on the existing relationship to make it better.
I'm extremely hostile towards my brother.
The only stable male figure I've had in my life, lives across the ocean. I've never met him in person. I don't think I ever will. He's been a rock for me...however, the stability is no longer as I haven't spoken to him in over a year.
I fear loneliness, although I tend to embrace it rather than change.
I got my first cell phone at 13.
My great-grandfather had 19 children.
His daughter, my grandmother, had 9.
I don't have any children.
August 15 will never be forgotten.
PGR 3 is the only game I enjoy playing on XBOX 360
I have four scars on my arm which look like cut marks.
I've never attempted suicide. ^ The scars are from my cat.
My cat hates hair dryers:)
Because I'm incredibly shy, people tend to think I'm stuck-up.
I am stuck up.
Vanilla is my favourite scent.
I've hated/disliked/was uncomfortable with all my bosses.
Vodka w/ Redbull is probably my favourite drink.
I love cindY and Shells like they are my own sisters.
Quick witted people intimidate me.
'sleeping ideas' are derived from 1) Animated philosophical movie title called Waking Life and 2) Noam Chomsky's "Green ideas sleep furiously".
It's now 10:46PM EST
Except one. (Refer to #31)
I've never broken a bone in my body. Although I do have a fairly nasty tale of a scar somewhere private.
I've started a lot of things without 'finishing' them: piano playing, knitting, writing...
I have a black cat called Panther and a rabbit we call Asshole.
I have a weird fear of Semi's. If carrying a load on the back, their fine. If not, I hate them. I also refer to them as fishheads.
I get dizzy spells. About two weeks ago, I walked into a wall on my way to the kitchen. My sight went black.
My boyfriend laughed.
I intend to purchase the following movies: Reign Over Me, Transformers, Live Free of Die Hard... there's one more, but I forget.
I'm not the best with grammar.
I've yet to go to College/University.
I'm lazy.
I think TAN is awesome.
"Good job" and "It's true" are only allowed to be used by two people. Otherwise, I'll give them a beatdown.
I just sort of realized this isn't very much about me although they all say "I" somewhere in them.
I was almost arrested this year on Canada Day.
It's most likely not what you think.
I had a root canal a few months ago...which reminds me>
I hate doctors.
Dentists are fine. The root canal went great.
I saw my first porno mag when I was about 7.
I'm tired of writing this.
I wrote one of these on the blog I deleted. It had a lot more private information on it. But people are assholes.
I've worked in various call centres for the last two years. I think it's one of the most degrading jobs around.
I'm somewhat proud of myself when people call me sarcastic. It means I am doing my job.
I like to change subjects a lot mid-con. I'm wearing my nightgown backwards.
The time is now 1:42. I've attempted sleep and have written one or two other blog entries in the meantime.
I, as a child, advised another child to eat mud.
I lived in Regent Park, bitch!
That's my only claim to thug fame. It wasn't for me.
I have a nephew a year older than me. That's right, I said a nephew, as in I'm his aunt.
If you ever plan on serving me breakfast, I like my eggs cooked till they're almost burnt, no fcuking runny yolk. I like bacon and I like sausage. Waffles, may be pushing it...unless of course your stingy. Toast is not necessary. Orange juice or milk are the only beverages that should be served with breakfast. Unless I'm cold. Then make me a damn coffee, triple triple.
I'm usually cold. If I'm not cold, I usually faint, cause I get too hot.
I have panic attacks.
I question my self-worth and strength, though I'm thankful for both.
I don't believe in the Bible. But I do believe in God.
I find Oprah to be inspiring.
I wouldn't mind one-worded name fame.
I'm trying not to fall asleepwhile writing this post.
I'm speaking with blue-eyed wonder on MSN.
I can't swim.
I have 10 brothers and sisters on my father's side who I've never met.
My mom was once rushed to the hospital after use of one of those Dr. Ho's muscle things.
My boyfriend is German/Turkish/British.
If you go back far enough, my ancestry is based in Sierra Leone, West Africa.
Four generations of my mother's family gave birth in Nova Scotia.
I've never left Canada. The farthest I've been is Montreal.
I have six piercings and one tattoo.
I'd like to get branded.
My mother is biracial and can usually pass for several different races.
I hate the lack of culture offered by Canada.
I like to receive compliments. Though I tend to not quite know what to do with them
I'm superstitious. I believe I'm in the third year of bad luck. I broke a mirror or two or three...I'm kind of waiting to get over this hump.
My mom once forgot me in a store and came back to find me standing in the window. Waiting.
I'm attracted to intellect.
The clock is ticking too loudly.
Reading is probably my favourite ...nevermind.
I've been to five funerals or more.
I was a mentor to disadvantaged youth.
I'm not looking forward to the family BBQ.
I'm glad I'm almost done. I'm surprised I haven't given up and deleted this entry already.
I'm engaged.
I have the hands of a pianist, according to some people.
My nails never grow in equally.
RN.SM.JK.KH.DS.

sleep.in.ideas.

Allegory...

2007-07-16T14:26:00.000-04:00

Sometimes the manner in which we acquit ourselves gives birth to the burden of association. In sight or sound, written word or spoken (or the lack of either) we allow our minds to perceive that which we ought know to be untrue.
Soon, our own deception is born into a reality perpetuated by our fears. All that we have known - and denied - has now rang the bell of truth. Each seemingly self-explanatory behavior is now rendered unjust. Banned are the excuses, explanations and apologetic words seeking forgiveness.

Pain aides in validating such a response although I can not make a reasonable proclamation that necessitates my reaction. Leaving me to ask, on what shall be placed the burden of association?
Those whose perceptions are altered by it, or those who guide us down the path and leave us to our own shadow-men?

sleep.in.ideas.

Friday the 13th

2007-07-13T11:30:00.000-04:00

The time was donated.

On occasion, It felt more like a loan.

In either case, it was not mine.

Before Time, I was alone.

Privileged to have It.

Too proud to let Time know.

Beneficently enveloped in Time

It's time to let Time go.

sleep.in.ideas.

Get Assimilated

2007-07-13T00:13:00.000-04:00

As per TAN's suggestion, I took a moment in time to complete this odd query.

IF YOUR LIFE WERE A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?

So, here's how it works:1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc) 2. Put it on shuffle 3. Press play 4. For every question, type the song that's playing 5. When you go to a new question, press the next button 6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...

Opening Credits: Apologize - Timbaland ft One Republic
Waking Up: Smashing Pumpkins - 1979
First Day at School: Audioslave - Hypnotize
Falling In Love: Disturbed/Korn - Forsaken
Fight Song: Tanya Stephens - These Streets
Breaking Up: Bob Marley and Lauren Hill - Turn Your Lights Down Low
Prom: Incubus - Pardon Me
Life: Ying Yang Twins - The Whisper Song
Mental Breakdown: Sean Kingston - Beautiful Girls
Driving: Johnny Cash - Boy Named Sue
Flashback: Feist - Sealion
Wedding: Guns N Roses - Rocket Queen
Birth of Child: Joel Plaskett Emergency - Come on, Teacher
Final Battle: Guns N Roses - Welcome to the Jungle
Death Scene: Gob - I Hear You Calling
Funeral Song: Justin Timberlake - Sexy Ladies/Let Me Talk to You Prelude.

sleep.in.ideas.

Chucky

2007-07-11T22:49:00.000-04:00

I just finished deleting a blog about a child stepping on my foot in the subway. I didn't find it funny and had absolutely no patience in trying to make it appear that way and so I decided to write about something that came to me in the process of writing that blog.

Children are evil.

No, really. They are.

Bring your dog to a grocery store. The next time it starts stomping its feet and crying like a dumb-ass, let me know. A child on the other hand, will not shut the fcuk up until A) you give in or B) the child services are called on you after you smack the shit outta him/her.

Have you ever met what is called a 'special' child. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't make fun of the mentally/physically/anything-ally challenged child. But these 'special' children are different. Upon first glance (and second and third) they appear normal. They're coherent when they speak and they don't walk funny. These kids are rather normal, there's nothing that's deemed them to be challenged in anyway...were it not for the stupid shit they do. What the fcuk kinda manners are you teaching your daughter when she's lifting her damn skirt up every two seconds and revealing her 'Skorts!' This isn't the school for climbing poles and showing your 'peach'.

Children like that need to be smac... - taught some common sense.

Oh and my personal favourite. Personal because it was personal. Who in blue hell stabs their sister in her knee? Yes, this happened to me. We had to be under 6 at the time (we're separated by a year and a half, him being the older of us). I don't even remember the details, we're playing with some toy and he gets angry, grabs a pencil and stabs my kneecap. I cry, my mom makes everything better and he apologizes. Not five minutes pass when some shit happens and he goes psycho and stabs my other knee. Like WTF?! Seriously. Now them ones, they need to be locked up. Right a-damn-way.

sleep.in.ideas.

Gay...You.

2007-07-11T22:19:00.000-04:00

You are the reason I consider going gay.

sleep.in.ideas.

Soul Sister

2007-07-11T09:38:00.000-04:00

Had the black man rambling on the street corner been more than just a black man rambling on the street corner, perhaps there may have been the opportunity for his uttered words to bear some truth.
The 30 minute lunch provided the chance to jut across the busy intersection of Yonge and Eglinton for some local over-priced street meat. "Are you sure you're dialling the right number?" he asked as I passed him while placing a call. I smiled and continued on like the hungry bitch I am (was ...at the time).
Gum melted under my thong sandals as I waited while the 10 or so sausages were served to the patron before me.
I sat and ate.
And drank.
And fought off the 'itis' while walking back.
"My soul sister," he says, "you've got a contact in Hollywood."

Where might this contact be, Mister Man?
Considering I'm working for just a few dollars above minimum wage, I sure could use it.

sleep.in.ideas.

2007-07-10T18:57:00.000-04:00

Had you ever had the displeasure of abusing the public transportation we have in place, you'd likely also have had an equally dismal experience while frequenting these mass-transport vehicles.
Never one to prove that theory wrong, the TTC welcomed on its bus a young bitch and an older one.
Unlike most the Torontonians I've come across, my mother was nice enough to teach me some basic manners... and if I didn't come across common sense all by my lonesome, I'll credit her with teaching me that as well. Instilled with these manners and sense, I stepped back to allow an old woman to board before me. Not before an old Asian man rushed to the front, nearly stepping on my toes in the process; nor before I'd patiently waited behind another bus polluting my lungs for ten minutes or so with its exhaust.
No.
I'd let her board the bus ahead of me after those two experiences.
But somehow the aforementioned older bitch, decided it would be okay to step in front of me simply because I'd allowed her older racial counterpart to do the same. I didn't have to, I had a clear opening and a guaranteed seat waiting for me had I decided to let the old bag stand there. Pardon my frog.
So this one rushes ahead of me... and a tired smile is worn on my face. I think all my public transportation nightmares for the day are over.
But us riders know, we're lucky if it'll ever be over.
Now it's my turn to board the bus, at least that's what I think. Young bitch ain't havin' it. My first step aboard the bus is matched by hers...and then my second and then she races to one of the few remaining seats and slams her bag down on the seat beside her. Now, I felt like being a bitch by now and so I decided to follow her. The bitch in me disappears when she indicates she's holding the seat for her friend (I was listening to my mp3 player, so I didn't actually hear anything) The smile on my face has been tried for the very last time, I grabbed her hair and smacked her head into the window. Spit on her face and got off the bus.
Or maybe I should have.
Needless to say, the rest of the ride home was eventless.
Fuck the bus.

sleep.in.ideas

It is what it is

2007-07-03T10:34:00.000-04:00

Bright explosions in the sky always make things better, especially on a holiday!

Right... and I am in fact, the Queen of England.

I will spare the details, but Canada Day 07, was one of the worst I've ever had.

sleep.in.ideas.

Rounding Third

2007-06-28T23:11:00.000-04:00

There's a certain level of frustration I've not been able to express for quite some time.
If you've ever been in a similar situation, you'd understand. To put it in simple terms, I'm being ignored. But it's the kind of 'ignored' that could be completely justified if it all of a sudden stopped = no longer being ignored.
I've pondered to myself, is this an unwitting practice or is it intentional?
In answering the latter of the two, I'd have a considerable amount of things to say about the ignorer.
I mean really, in the year 2007, what excuse do you have for not grabbing your testorone-filled, sack of manhood and telling me to fuck off?
The days of kindergarten are long over...there are no longer any 'cooties', and for fuck sakes, I'm still there if you put your fucking hands in front of your face and forget to say peek-a-boo .
Christ!

sleep.in.ideas.

Used Auto Dealers

2007-06-28T18:55:00.000-04:00

I don't claim to have the faintest idea of anything vehicle-related. However, one need not be mechanically inclined to understand the potential legal woes which may arise sooner, rather than later.
Sparing the jargon associated with law - along with it, the specific details of the problem - let's just say, Ontario should have Lemon Laws in place.
Acknowledgement from the dealer confirms that in less than two months, the transmission is - for lack of better word - fucked.
Yet, this is somehow not their responsibility.
If anyone out there is reading this, and happens to be mechanically inclined, please inform me: how, in a matter of a month and a half, can a consumer ruin their transmission? Theories, ideas...
A few things to keep in mind:
The car is 11.
Two weeks after purchase, we had a tune-up and it swallowed 4L of transmission fluid. (Indicating a problem with the car a heck of a lot sooner than a month and a half)

sleep.in.ideas.

Popper... of Cherries

2007-06-28T15:37:00.001-04:00

A few hours ago, a loud bang on the door had me crawling on all fours, cell phone in hand, ready to dial 911. On my knees, I smiled at how very preposterous my actions were and proceeded to peer under the door. After passing the peep-hole, where an imagined bullet awaited my curious eyes, I stood up and checked the bedroom to find the source of the noise, to no avail.
Perhaps, as I lay on the couch reading the satirical blog of a blue-eyed wonder, I'd imagined the whole event taking place. Maybe there was no 'loud bang' to fear and in it's place was my desire to do something rather than be the lazy bastard I've been for about a month.

Welcome to my blog.

sleep.in.ideas.