Holy Crap

Taking a look at that last post feels like I wrote it a lifetime ago, rather than just a week ago!

Just after arriving home from my Staycation, my car breathed its last breath. She went out in a blaze of glory as I was backing her into my parking spot. A ton of white smoke came up from the hood and bunch of green fluid came gushing out from under her. There was a lot of rattling and shaking and at one point, I was convinced I was going to have to make a run for it Diehard style. I suppose it was a sigh of relief after the 949KM round trip journey to Cleveland.

Jelly's husband is a mechanic and advised me against sinking any more money into the landboat. So my Dad lent me the money to buy a used, but solid 2001 Cavalier. I've named her Silver. Because she's silver. (Original no, cute yes.)

G20 took over the city. It was the scariest thing I've ever witnessed since moving to Toronto over 10 years ago. I just have to say this to all the violent protesters: FUCK YOU, and your little dogs too. Way to destroy shit. Way to be assholes. Way to lose any credibility for your cause.

And a hearty GO SUCK A BIG HAIRY MOOSE COCK to the police officers who abused their power and decimated the rights of innocent civilians. If you want a good stomach-turning read, click here and here and here. The third story particularly hits close to home given that I am hard of hearing and will eventually become deaf.

I started my new job in the aftermath of G20. The office is on Yonge Street where most of the vandalism occurred. I was so sad walking down the street Monday morning to see all the nearby businesses boarded up. Going to Tim Hortons was like crossing into a war zone. All the windows had been smashed out and in their place, huge pieces of wood had been nailed in. They had to hang signs on the outside which indicated they were in fact open and not still under siege. It kind of reminded me of one scene in "Clerks" where Dante hung a sign outside the Quik-Stop which said, "I assure you, we're open". Only I wasn't laughing at this instance of life imitating art.

My cubicle is in the HR department (IT is full at the moment) next to a window over looking a construction site. I love it, construction site and all. I've personalized my space with three items - a framed photo of me and my Mom circa 1979, a stainless steel water bottle and a cell phone holder that looks like a little arm chair. I was told I'd be moving as soon as a space opens up in IT. I'm hoping it doesn't because I like having natural sunlight.

Other than that, I've got nothing else to report about it. I haven't done any real work. I went around and offered my help to the other admins but no one took me up on the offer. Everyone kept telling me they wanted me to get settled in before they start giving me stuff to do. I assure you, I'm settled. It took me all of five minutes to get settled. I guess this is the slower pace that the government operates at. I'm gonna have to turn everything down several notches in order to fit in and not scare people.

I had a gig last night with my band and a shoot on an indie film this morning. Singing my heart out and then getting only 5 hours of sleep makes for a sleepy performance. I did four takes of three lines.

In my defence however, the picture is being directed by two guys and there was an overzealous producer who was also throwing in her two cents about how my lines should be delivered. I gave the performance they directed me to give. If there's one thing I'm damn sure of it's that I take direction very well. I don't do anything the director doesn't tell me to do. If they say go nuts and do your own take on the character, then certainly I will do that. But this morning I was first given nothing, and then given very different direction from each person. The fourth take seemed to be the one they all agreed on.

And now kind bloggers, I am going to take a nap.