Crafty

During my time as a temp, I have made quite the eclectic variety of projects ( all for personal use of course).

I have made "magnet poetry" I was especially proud of this one. I made a rather large collage I nicknamed "temporary art". Just last week, I created a series of music festival spread sheets to send to all my friends. Today I made a laminated checklist to judge potential new roomies.

I just discovered the laminator this afternoon. I proceeded to run back to my desk and search madly through my purse looking for anything that I could laminate. I briefly considered laminating a $20 bill and than decided against it when I remembered I was broke.

I decided to make something useful.

This is what I came up with.

I call it "The Future Roomate Checklist"

I am quite proud.

I can not wait to show them to the kids back home.

You Honk-a at me? I honk-a at You!!

Last night I woke up from a serious of rather odd, twisted dreams to my phone ringing. I ignored it and dozed back off only to hear it ring again. I looked at the call display. I was my friend "Blondie". I look over at the clock. 3:30am. "Blondie"!?! I answer. Are you ok? I had a really bad night she said. Can I come over? Umm.. ok?!

She stumbled into the house a few minutes later, and proceeded to tell me about her night (pretty upsetting, no arguing there). I ended up leaving her to her own devices about 20 minutes later on the couch with a sleeping bag. It took me an 1 hour to fall back asleep.

I turned off my alarm this morning and promptly fell back asleep. I woke sometime later, realizing that I had all of 8 minutes to get ready and out the door. I was of course, late. I was slightly annoyed as well. Less annoyed than most would be, but still annoyed.

I met "Blondie" through a casual friend of mine whom I had worked with at a Bikini Bar (let's not go there today) a few years back. I have kept in contact with "Blondie" but have cut off ties with said bikini friend, whom I have decided I have nothing in common with. The thing is, though "Blondie" and I speak on occasion and attempt a many a failed plan, we have hung out a grand total of about 4 times in the last year.

All together a strange night.

On my walk to work this morning, with the impending doom of being late yet again, heavy on my shoulders, I made a dash for the cross light with 5 seconds to spare. Just about safely across, I get honked at by some asshole in a beamer. I turned around and noticed the angry gestures he was making in my direction. The best part is, it took me 5 minutes of pep talks (hosted by yours truely) to get over the offending honk. I hate being honked at. I also hate being yelled at. I generally hate any loud noises that are directed at me. I spent most of the pep talk telling myself that the man's wife probably just left him, and that it is nothing personal at me but rather, his frustration at life. In all honesty it was probably me.

The cleaners at work also through out my precious apple cider vinegar cleanse

Damn cleaners

I sometimes use it as a straw..

I bought a package of licorice today. Twizzlers to be specific. I have not eaten licorice in about a year, not since obnoxious British roommate moved out and left that opened pack of no name twizzlers in the cupboard. If you can call that licorice. It was so hard I nearly busted a tooth. I like to bite the ends off of my licorice and use it as a straw until the insides get all soft and mushy. Effective when the licorice in question is very old and very stale.

My fat free kick has been surprisingly easy. Easy, not to be confused with painless. At the store 10 minutes ago I was faced with a decision. Chocolate bar or twizzlers? I went with the later and am pleased with my rather low-fat option. One would not initially assume that licorice is low in fat. I was bestowed with flashback from numerous fashion magazines articles comparing the fat content of different snacks. Licorice always won. Licorice and popcorn....

How do these things go?

So I started this blog up a year ago give or take a few months. I was temping at the god-forsaken travel-agency, you know, the one that got me sickeningly addicted to facebook? And out of sheer boredom, I decided I too should have a "blog". Well I signed up, named my blog, and voila! Here it sits a year later with not a post to it's name.

Now don't get me wrong. It's not that I think blogs are silly, by any means. On the contrary, I spent that afternoon fretting, feeling like I needed a theme. How about fashion? No, too many of those, besides, the people who write fashion blogs generally know what they're talking about. Food? I do love food, but a culinary adventure would be in order, and funds don't always hold out. It only just occurred to me the other day, that I really do not need a theme to go on.

So here I go. Joining the masses and starting a blog about nothing in particular. This may help me hone my writing skills, something I have always wanted to be a little bit better at.

At my desk at this particular oil and gas company, I have the most amazing view. Mind you today, not so amazing. Under normal circumstances though, on a typical sunny Calgarian day, you can see the arch of a Chinook hoovering over top of the Rocky Mountains. It's magnificent. Trees dot the flat city landscape and the sky is that true blue you can only find in such desolate wastelands as the prairies. I tend get a little nostalgic when I take the time to pry my eyes away from the computer screen and really see. See where I live, where I reside. It's amazing. I then start to think about how lucky I am. What a privileged little white girl I am. How I live in such a beautiful privileged country. Then the nostalgia subsides. I realize that it doesn't matter how perfect it seems, I am desperately unhappy here. I have been back in this city for just over a year now. It feels like a lot longer. Like, 3 years longer. I wonder if Ill be happy in one place, like, ever. It occurred to me when I restarted this blog, that "Wherever you go, there you are" may have been a more suitable title.