happy halloween happy list

in the spirit of spooky time, i've decided to compile a list of all of the things about halloween that make me grin:

- candy corn! it's inappropriate any other time of year

- watching various monsters/vikings/sailors/witches/nurses/etc walk casually through the streets of halifax. it's like being on a different planet for a day where zombies and vampires can live together in harmony. amazing!

- seeing the kiddies at work dress up. one of my students and her twin dressed as a washer and dryer. it's impossible to have a bad day after witnessing a dryer try to sit comfortably in a desk chair.

- teeny-tiny treats that don't make me feel too terribly for over-indulging.

- extra-special (themed) food drives that take place in light of the day/night of spooking and giving (see: trick-or-eat). neat!

- the simpsons halloween episodes! i love the one where groundskeeper willy turns into some sort of flesh-eating giant bagpipe spider.

- piecing together homemade costumes. in my third year my roommates and i dressed as three blind mice. all we needed to purchase were tails and canes. in my fourth year, i dressed as a clown and i managed to scrounge up a nose for the event. this year i'm caught between going as a lumber(jill), a ragdoll or a leopard. going as a leopard has its turn-ons as part of the costume would involve a cozy bathrobe, but cats are so overdone. thoughts?

- this whole mix of mischievous intentions and generous hands. on what other holiday can you combine complete, debaucherous madness and complimentary snacks?

list complete, friends. i hope you're all safe tonight and that if you do happen to take out some little trick-or-treaters that you take extra precautions to keep them safe, healthy and warm. and you, yourselves, whether you're dressing up and getting down or hitting the books, be safe, please.

happy halloween!

you're not awesome: the bud light beer edition

after a long day of job-juggling i found myself shivering violently on a street-corner on quinpool road this evening. i was unspeakably glad to see the bus and its spitting heaters. i was silly-happy to have found a seat near the back. i was looking mega-fly in my leather jacket and tailored pants (unrelated, whatever). i remembered to pack a book in my handbag and was still thrilled to crack its spine open WHEN I LOOKED ABOVE ME AND CHOKED ON MY OWN PUKE (not really but almost).

strings of bud ight advertisements were snaking around the bus ceiling (you know the area where there are usually federal government, h&m or bell/aliant ads? there). i love beer but i do not love bud or bud light and now i can confidently say that i will sooner chug 10 guiness glasses (please, please don't hold me to this. it won't be good) than sling my lips around the edges of a bud light. the advertisement reads "bud light: an easy-drinking beer. for those who like things that are "easy" and "drinking".

now, maybe this is the fault of my own sick and terribly-farmed mind but i have a sneaking suspicion that bud light is implying that those who enjoy drunk and sexually-free women will enjoy drinking bud light (and, probably, the two things are naturally interrelated). those who drink bud light will have encounters with "things" (THINGS?!) of which are also easy and drinking (or "drinkable", depending on which ad you look at first). beer is a tasty and refreshing beverage that any person consuming should feel lucky to enjoy: you have the financial means to purchase something you definitely do not need and will enjoy it, hopefully, around a group of neat people. why do beer companies so often feel the need to objectify and degrade living, breathing people (hello, coors light girls and the maxim golf bullshit) in order to sell product? WHY DOES IT WORK?

i know why i am so angry and it's because i have a flaming need to flip the bird to bud light.

that said, fuck you, bud light. you're not awesome.

i've been asleep for a long, long time

'blonde hair to brown and then brown to white'

- from hey rosetta's "i've been asleep for a long, long time"

but really, i have. my zombie-blues slipped away into an unconscious haze where i spent the past three or four days floating between work and sleep. i've got no symptoms of illness save my extreme fatigue so i'm thinking that i am just plain and plum tuckered-out. save some slight tossing and turning thanks to a kitty on my back (or my belly, or my bum, or on my head...) i've been knocked out all night (and sometimes all day) for long, long periods of time.

strangely enough and so weirdly for me, i have an extreme distaste for coffee during these mumbling days. the smell of coffee alone makes me want to ralph and this, aside from my burning desire for sleepsleepsleepPLEASEsleep, concerns me as coffee was, for a long time, my favorite and most-consumed beverage next to water. also, this whole "just suck it up and push through the day little choo-choo train, you'll wake up in no time!" mantra is only good for short spurts of time as i usually end up crashing and snoring in the worst places (ahem, public transit) where my clearly very-awake neighbour feels uncomfortable with my drool inching closer and closer to his ever-so-nice bench jacket. sigh.

so, caffeine pills are scary to me. sleep ain't 'nough. i'm not a tea drinker and the harder i push my body the harder i hit the pillow (or, as stated, my bus neighbour). if i worked outside i might not have such a sleepy issue as the crisp fall air gives me such thrilling slaps in the paleface. should i be spending my breaks standing roadside, or would that give off the wrong impression? should i just accept my exhaustion for what it is and keep my fingers crossed that it passes with a few more days of rest?

help me out, folks. i can't stand this whole bumbling, mumbling new self. she's a bit of an old bat and she's covered in cat hair - not good, you guys. not. good.

"hello, my name is zzz...zz...zombie"

two hours of sleep and feelin' GROOVY my friends.

lies, lies, lies.

the day has finally caught up to me and smashed me with the realization that balancing three jobs and living off of energy drinks and coffee is not a healthy way to live. i am literally a walking, barely talking zombie this morning.

i'm about to head to job numero dos, which, thankfully, is the only place of employment requiring my talents today. i am flipping through all of the planning catalogues in my brain in an attempt to figure out how to best fix my ridiculous schedule. tips are so (so) lovely but they're probably not worth shortening my lifespan. being busy is something i'm quite good at but keeping myself occupied with unfulfilling actions might not be something worth bragging about.

have you any idea how i should keep myself financially afloat without grinding myself into the dirt?

wish me luck today. fingers crossed that i don't fall asleep in anyone's soup.

here is where i tell you a story

in the spirit of the ever-nearing day of october 31st, i will tell you a story of spook and span like you've never known before.

props to m. for inspiring this as she reminded me of scream-barfing from one of her comments.

*note: this is based on a true story - that does not mean my words are all true.

the night sky was dreary and sticky and the sidewalks were slick with sky-sweat and beer. the stairs winding up and down the various capital complex entrances were sheened with the dewy effects of a thunderstorm to come. patrons, sporting wiry, puffy clouds of hair, slipped and slid their way down and through piles of slurring faces. sweat stains turned pink cottons to red, blue to black. my friends and i nested along the barrier of the patio. i drank my pickaroons through a straw. thick, blue smoke turned us grey and white and the cross-hatch music mix of patio playlist and inside indie band made already-swimming heads spin.

the approaching storm did not make for a carefree environment for which to sip and slur. we did not nest for long on the patio. our bellies brimmed with beer and our wallets holding only coin, we walked home.

at 1:30am the intersection at york and george found us hiding from screaming banshees in cars. two years following that night, the apartment building on said intersection was destroyed by a fire. the banshees must have squealed a hex upon which the nearby church could not cleanse.

at 1:45am my stoop welcomed us with slippery arms and promises of indoor fanning. as we climbed the sodden carpet to my sleeping-den, banshees continued to fly by and squeal outside.

finally, at 2:30am, we thought the out-of-doors demons could only be avoided by an exercism. not an exorcism. we literally sweated our way through a symphony of squeals, hoping to drown out the incessant noise with perspiration. once exhausted, sleep stole the light from our eyes and we left our bodies to lie...

4:30am. shaken from sleep, our ripping eyes sprung open and our breath quickened. our ears shook with anticipation as the most terrible sound sat directly beneath my window. a stale smell flung tears from our eyes and for a moment we thought we were just dreaming through a nightmare. lightning cracked and another heave was heard. and another. and then ten in a row. it was almost as if we were growing closer to the sound. no, not physically, we were still bleary in the window, but the aftershock of the strange thrusts of sounds were followed by whimpers, then by profanities. was someone trying to break in? did a screaming banshee get lost behind from its vehicular safety and was this its call of fear? is there a werewolf on the loose?

after wiping the sleep from my eyes and gathering my soul in my hands so that i may push myself closer to the window edge, i gasped in horror. i squelched in disgust and i sneezed in sympathy. what laid restlessly below my window was not a spook. it was not a banshee nor was it a werewolf or thief. the eruption of sound and splash was spewing from the notorious scream-barfer.

not one of the three of us gained much sleep that night.

happy almost halloween!