Gotta Write This Quick

I've been unemployed for over 6 weeks now, and what I've noticed, is that despite doing virtually nothing, I've been rushing through life. I walk around town as if I have something I'm late for, I run for the train, even though it would make no difference if I took the next one or the one after that. I'm always feeling rushed, and in tern stressed about it, and I can't seem to figure out why.

The more I think about it, the more I blame it on technology. I always have my blackberry in my hands, looking at what time it is, and how much time has passed. How long till the next train, or that show on tv starts?

Also, I think I might be going through Waterton withdrawl, when you could tell relatively what time it was by the sun. And you're only clue of what time it was, related directly to those who had to work in the morning.

And even now, I sit in am empty theatre eating my popcorn and having time to myself, like truly. And yet my thoughts are spinning about how long it's gonna take me to get home and change before I go out for the night. And how long I can stay out before I have to get up tomorrow morning. But right now, my only worry is eating this popcorn. And posting this blog later.

No thanks, I'll just stay sober.

Alright, alright, so with my past experiences of dancing on cars and seeing every live musical act that came to town, and now with my backyard fires and power hours, I know that you'd roll your eyes when you saw the title of this blog, but it's actually true.

Let's remeniss, shall we? I was the summer of my sweet 16 when I took daddy's car, and credit card and drove to Sarnia for an outdoor concert. I saw the band I was there to see and to this day, I have the video that I reorded "freaking out" cuz the band said they'd come back to my hotel room to "party" (this is also how my "groupie" title began). On the video the band asks what I drink, and my response is "I don't know" Beer? "I have no idea.

These "rockstars" came to my hotel room and I tried my hardest to stomach the beer they gave me. I got 1.5 bottles in, trying ever so hard to look cool. But soon after, got buzzed and gave up.

Years went by and I always found myself in situations when free beer was involved. High school bush/basement parties, music festivals, backstage at many a show... and eventually I stopped trying to stomach it. I remember volunteering for NXNE or CMW in Toronto and going to the after-party with a hand full of "beer" tickets - saying I would stay sober instead of drinking that shit.

And up to and including this past weekend, it still happens without fail. I ran CityChase, ran hard and tried hard on Saturday, and just wanted a shot afterward - but was offered free beer instead. Free beer. "No thanks, I'll pay the $7 for Jack instead" If I have to drink beer, I'd rather stay sober.

Another Flashback

My good friend Army Guy took me out kayaking yesterday afternoon. It was a gorgeous day for it and I had an amazing time. I got to see the back entrance to Heritage Park, and while coming up with ridiculous stories about how we would storm the windmill throwing pebbles at it and spitting along the way, another past story of mine came to mind.

FLASHBACK: Some friends and I went to the Exhibition Place in Toronto for an outdoor concert. Edgefest is my best guess as to which one it was. We found a way to break in and see the show, as we had done it before (and at that point, I even knew some of the security, cuz they worked for more than one venue). The whole "getting into the gig for free" seemed a bit too easy for us, and so, we decided we wanted to go backstage. Conveniently, backstage was surrounded by water, as that's how the park is laid out. Impossible - nah. We ended up renting paddleboats, paddling over, then trying to ditch them, run up a hill and hop a fence. Meanwhile, musicians are watching and encouraging us.

Moral of the story: we got a slap on the wrist and a "stern talking to"... oh yah, we also met some bands... but then again, we did get kicked out of the park... and 15 minutes later, we snuck back in. Oh to be young again. I think there's a cartoon someone drew about this night somewhere...

"Rebel - what?" then... and now.

So, the weekend just passed... and overall I had a very eventful and interesting time. So much so that I am sitting at home today, hurting - A LOT. My throat kills, my hands, arms, shoulders... fuk, everything hurts, I might as well have been in a boxing rink. But let's vaguely talk about the weekend, shall we?

Friday night I ended up downtown with a friends, having a couple drinks and hitting on a couple boys. This fun friend of mine however, LOVES talking to anyone... be it breakdancers on the streets, the fire truck driving by, and ALL police officers. Now, I tense up when cops come around... that warrant being out to get me and all. Punchline of this story: after making some policemen friends, I got a ride home in a cruiser... not because I was in trouble or anything, but mainly because I'm broke and didn't want to pay for a cab. And as I sit in the back of this police vehicle, voluntarilly, late Friday, I find myself talking shit about policemen and my past experiences with them, while biting my tongue as to not let on that there's a warrant out for me, and laughing my fuken head off on the inside, at this whole situation.

FLASHBACK: this same weekend, my friend Ellez who used to cause a ruckus with me when we were younger, tags me in a photo with the cops SHE made friends with years back. The story: we had gone to Sarnia, ON for an outdoor live show, having driven in a buddy's jeep which crapped out as soon as we got to an LCBO. Trying to have a good time, we drank our faces off from noon till 2am, hitchhiking our way through town and breaking into the outdoor gig. At 3am we were finishing off booze while waiting for CAA to drive us the 3+hours home with all of our "pooled" CAA miles. Cops come for a noise complaint, give the boys "drinking in public" charges, and flirt with the girls. Soon, my friends end up in the back of the cruiser, wearing handcuffs and taking breathalyzers for fun. I failed.

Though I didn't have a warrant out for me back then, it was still a very eventful time.

Activities days

Hey everyone. Remember those times when I used to blog and it was awesome? Then remember the last few weeks when I became bitter and sheltered and uneventful, and wrote nothing? Well, I guess I just ran out of things to rant about, and am less opinionated than usual... Oh wait, that's not it. I have crawled into a bit of a bitter shell cuz of lack or a job and money ect ect, but I've found a distraction.

As I try to fall asleep, I think about how proud it makes me, that with the help of friends I managed to exceed my goal in gathering donations for the Underwear Affair - a walk/run that helps uncover a cure for cancers below the waist. It also got me thinking about what a great experience fundraising was.

With that, I have decided to continue getting out, trying new things, and meeting new people, especially with the promise of a great summer. So I propose this: on Wednesdays and Sundays, I shall be participating in activities days. Whether it be frizbee in the park, or a group trip somewhere random. I'm thinking 5-6ish would be fun, and after I announce an activity, I plan to do it with or without people (but with would clearly be more fun).

Now to think of a Sun/Wed activity: any ideas?

Dallas to Tampa

My vacation woes, are getting kinda silly
I curse below my breath, and sigh angrillilly
I've seen an airport an airport an airport a plane, an airport, a plane

My bad time miscalculation
and my lack of concentration
storm warning, a long day, delayed takeoff
my mood's hit a place, that's hard to shakeoff
my 7 hour trip, is really 22
my 4pm landing is in am, and at 2...

and I sit, and I read, and I try to sleep
and I drink and I blog and I refuse to weep
cuz life is an adventure, that's what traveling's for
if I made no mistakes, I'd peg my life as a bore
but there's still (like) 4 hours, till I find my hostel and drop
so I sit here, kill time, with my Jack and my pop (sorry, soda)

*words written about missing my flight and having tornado warnings delay my 2nd flight only to get to my destination a day later... once again*

Sometimes, you have unfortunate luck.

So everyone, I recently went on a vacation to Florida by myself. This vacation involved a lot of drinking, a lot of random and fantastic people, some partying, and some great adventures. But with all the good stuff, sometimes you stumble along some bad.

The last "job" I had, happened to be a promotion for a wicked awesome cell phone. It went on for 6 weeks or so and I had a great time doing it. But 2 shifts prior to wrapping everything up, I spilt a bottle of pop in my purse, ruined it, and cried a bit about it.
Similarly, while on vacation, I survived all these great places with my digital camera: the cruise ship I was on, the pool we took pics beside, the bars where beverages were getting spilled, and the boat I went para-sailing off of. And behold, the night before my flight back, while walking in downtown Tampa, I slipped and fell into the river, sending my camera into the water with me.

This is where the story gets good:
Although I may not always keep my composure while hanging out with friends, I completely lose my mind and just do whatever comes to me first when I'm by myself (especially when alcohol is involved... and let's be realistic - when is it not?). There are 2 stories I am willing to disclose, because, realistically, they're just too ridiculous to keep to myself...


1. I am the girl who "trespassed" onto a private yaught club to wander around, check out the boats, take a nap on their amazing hammocks, and take pictures by the water. I walked up to all of the staff, smiled and said hello, while wearing as little as possible... and when using their facilities, I totally stole like a hand full of tampons - cuz you know, they were free, and I'm a rebel. Pft, rich people and their free feminine products, take that!

2. I am the girl who slipped on some seaweed while trying to dip my feet in the river downtown. This was after I walked through a city garden, stepping on a rose bush branch which punctured through my sandal and into my foot. *ouch, tetanus shot* After sitting, soaked from the waist down laughing at myself, I went into the first 5-star hotel to get cleaned up. Rich people - you might pay $300 a night to stay in some fancy place, but I'm the girl in her bikini, ringing out her shorts in your prestigious bathroom... Those door men gave me a look straight out of "Pretty Woman" when I walked in.

And with that, I shrug, get on with my day, and find another convenience store that sells booze, because when you have unfortunate luck, you just gotta do something that makes you laugh, or at least smile at the memory of...
SIDENOTE **if anyone wants to purchase me a new cell phone or digital camera, it'd be greatly appreciated, cuz my vacation left me broke!**

Florida Pt 1

As we sat in the Dallas airport, in the plane, yet on the ground because of Tornado warnings, everyone grew agitated, and I just wanted the day to be over. I had missed my 6am flight, and now, the 8pm connector was delayed. We finally got off the ground at 10pm, with promises that we had enough fuel to fly the detour route. I tried to sleep, but inevitably ended up drinking Jack and writing (I'll post it later).

We got to Tampa, FL at 1am and I sat outside by myself for an hour waiting for the SuperShuttle to take me to my hostel. I sang, and danced a little, some car parking guy tried to hit on me, I tried to do tricks in a wheelchair till I hurt myself... A luxury car pulled up just after 2, and the man was wonderful. He told me that I was gonna be staying in the sketchy part of the city (fantastic) and right before we got to the hostel he had never heard of, a black cat cut in front of me.

I broke into the hostel and tried to walk around all stelth like, meanwhile two english boys sat by the pool, wasted, and watching me. The owner was supposed to leave me a "note" telling me where to stay, and as it was past 3am, he wasn't gonna be awake. Unfortunately, there was no note either, except one telling me to stop being angry and start enjoying myself... but then I realized that was meant for a girl named Jody.

The hostel was wicked awesome, but I was too tired to make friends. The one boy gave me the grand tour, I find a room with a girl in one of the beds, and decided "that'll do" and passed out. This morning the owner welcomed me, and took me out for breakfast at an old diner Elvis once ate in (score!). We drove around the city, stopped at Home Hardware, then I kicked it w a boy named Omar for a bit, and decided to take a walk downtown.

At the library now, trying to print my boarding documents for tomorrow, but I have no american change. What do you think... Tampa busking?

contradictions

Today is the day I leave for my vacation. A well deserved trip by myself to forget the mediocrity that has become my life in Calgary. And I've been asked a few times these last couple of days, and my response remains the same "I'm sure it'll be a great time, but there's a lot of inconveniences I have to go through before I start enjoying myself".

So, it's been 8hrs since I've arrived at YYC airport this early Tuesday morning. Since then, I've eaten, drank, surfed the next, try to talk my way into prohibited areas... Twice. Oh, and I decided to check in at the airport on fb. Fun thing: it also shows you all of the other people that have checked in. And while I swear up and down, and up again that I'm dead set against internet dating, here, bored at the airport, I found myself asking people over fb where they were flying to, instead of actually approaching a live person.

Half way into my message to 3rd random boy, I caught myself in this hypocritic act, and so I could try and justify it, and say it didn't count. But in a weird coincidence, that same check in allowed me to meet up with a girl I knew in high school that was in Calgary on a layover to see her niece and nephew. And at least the hour spent with her was filled with stories, memories, and me not having to drink alone (even though a shot of Jack diluted with water hardly counts as a shot anyway).

Emergency Jack

You know, many people ask me about my tiny 3shots-full flask that I refer to as Emergency Jack. They wonder how bad my life could possibly be, or what kind of unmaintained addiction I might have, to keep a few shots along side me almost all the time.

The flask isn't a coping mechanism my good friends, it's just a way of making my life less frustrating. When others would turn sour or be put into an unbelievably bad mood in some situations, well, I just hand out with Emergency Jack for a minute or two and figure out what to do next.

Let me give you an example: I'm the kind of person who has no issues traveling alone. (So now, before you give me grief on Emergency Jack, think back to the last trip you did absolutely solo -trips "home" don't count. I thought so) And although I love going to new places and having new adventures, an adventure without fail for me, each and every time is an 8-10hr airport hangout, which I am currently part-taking in.
So with the added $70 charge for not making my original flight, and the realization that I now land at my destination at midnight instead of 4pm, I'm gonna kick it w Jack, for free, and then move on to more interesting activities... Like, hopefully body shots (preferably, not at the airport)