spoiled chinese girl

I’m back from my clothes shopping expedition. And everyone really gives a rats ass what happened. So I’ll tell you all. Vaughn Mall is the only mall open other than the Eaton Centre today since its the Canadian Thanksgiving. And lord knows you can’t spend the ENTIRE day with JUST your family, therefore you must go shopping to eliveate the boredom that is sitting around talking about little Jimmy and little Suzie etc. And since my mom sure as hell wasn’t driving to the core of Downtown Toronto, and I wasn’t volunteering to do it either, we went to Vaughn Mills because I apperently am in desperate need of pants seeing as how I turned all my fat-kid pants into fat-kid shorts at the beginning of the summer, and am now out of pants, both fat-kid or non.

But the real point of the story is that a few weeks ago I noticed that my most beloved Airwalk sk8er shoes (I don’t skateboard, please. I unicycle. That’s much more h4rdc0r3!) have holes in them where the ball of my foot bends at the toes, probably because I’ve had these shoes for like at least 3 years, and the past 3 years living in Toronto caused me to walk, a lot. I used to walk EVERYWHERE because I was too cheap and lazy to wait for TTC street cars to come by. So instead of taking a streetcar and waiting for like 15 minutes for one to roll on past and spending the $2.50 on my fare, I would save my $2.50 to buy lunch and walk for about an hour to Filipe’s house at the butt-other end of town. Anyways, it’s a lot of walking. So now my airwalks are useless through snow since theres holes in them, although they’re super-comfy since I’ve worn them in totally they’re probably pretty dangerous to do trials in since they’re so worn in.

So the plan since became just looking for pants (two pairs actually, why I’m not sure. But my mom wanted me to get two pairs of pants) and shoes.

My first stop was Old Navy. Because who cares what mall you end up going to, as long as there’s an Old Navy, I can actually do some shopping instead of just windowshopping which I hate because its one of the most boring and useless means of wasting your time EVER. But my mom loves shopping. So she was stopping to see people getting water massages (You lie in this weird tube that looks like you’re doing a C.A.T. scan face down under this rubberized sleeve dealie, and high-powered jets shoot water at you and it’s supposed to somehow be relaxing.) and watching someone demonstrate this new iron (She was so excited to watch someone else IRON A SHIRT!) Seriously. I hate shopping. And this is the reason why. Finally we ended up at this massive outdoors/fishing/camping type store, and my mom was watching this guy give a fishing demo. My mom doesn’t fish. My mom hates fishing. My mom was STILL enthralled by this guy giving a fishing demo.

Wasn’t I talking about Old Navy a couple sentances ago? Anyways. I found one pair of pants I liked. They’re like a quick-dry outdoors type pants with cargo pockets. I’m in love with cargo pockets because it’s my excuse to not need a purse. And I loathe purses. Except the bag that Tinky-Winky carries. He rules because he rocks the bright red bag. Even though it’s not a purse. It’s a bag. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen him put anything in there other than like bits of Tubby-toast. Anyways. I know I’ve lost weight since last year, since my cousin from San Fransisco bought me a pair of pants last summer when he was visiting, where they were kinda fitted on top, and pretty tight around the legs, because I wear mens pants, and generally speaking, men have skinny legs compared to the rest of them while women have larger legs, especally people like me who unicycle a lot and during most of my growing years I was in TaeKwon Do which was all legwork. My legs are muscular, they’re not lean, but they’re still a whole lotta muscle under there. Somewhere. But those same pants I got like 15 months ago now litterally fall off my ass. If I don’t hold them or wear an extension cord and walk, they will end up at my ankles in like 5 steps.

But I’m still not sure about sizing myself up for buying clothes. I’ve always bought XL for everything. Force of habit. But a few months ago I bought some BME shirts off BMEshop.com, and as per usual, bought XL because it’s a force of habit, and took pictures to submit them to the site because I’m an attention whore like that, and got a message from the webmaster of the site going “Seriously. Buy smaller shirts. You look like you’re wearing a tent.” Thus now my offical size is Large. Although the Larges are starting to get kind of big, and I mentioned it on my blog, and this chick who’s also been losing weight, generally is shorter and more of a round person than I am (I’m just kind of broad, it’s impossible to find me jackets that fit because I seriously have wide shoulders, its hilarious my mom getting me to try on stuff thats hers) she’s gone from Mediums to Baby-T’s because she’s got a huge rack and likes showing it off, she sent me a Medium shirt, which I fit into just fine. It’s tighter than what I really enjoy which is why I don’t wear it (it’s seriously the shoulder thing) but my offical T-shirt size is Large (if anyone is taking a poll to see what sizes they should order band shirts in. *cough*HINT*cough*)

But pants. I know my pant size in inches, because I buy mens pants. For the longest time it was 38/33. Last summer I got really fat somehow and was up to a 40/33. And the 40 is the pants that are now falling off my ass. So I’ve pulled out other pants I own that are 38 something and they’re a comfortable loose. I could probably squeeze my ass into a 36, and I think a 34 would be about my goal. I think Phil’s gone from a 38 to about a 32 in the past 6 months but he’s somehow able to fluxuate his weight like CRAZY. But the pants I was looking at were only S/M/L/XL so even these sizes don’t help me any. So I grabbed L and XL because just cuz my t-shirt sizes are L doesn’t mean my ass is.

I went into the change room and tried on the L because let’s get my hopes up. They fit. They’re kind of short, so the pant length is probably only a 32 and not a 33, which makes it somewhat silly when I sit down but I usually sit by a desk anyways so no one can see my mismatched or dirty socks. But since the L fit, I didn’t even bother with the XL and was done trying on clothes in like a matter of minutes. Outside again to grab some socks since I bought the wrong kind last time that like continually fall off my ankle and end up bunched up at the top of my shoe, and off to the checkout.

Then we ended up at Athletes World to buy my shoes, and I found two pairs that were the exact same shoe but different colours. My airwalks are black, and they had these in black, and light grey + blue. So I tried on the blue ones since I’ve got blabck shoes already in 10.5 because I’m really not sure of my shoe size either, since I only buy shoes every 2-3 years it seems. I got the one on and it was massive so I stopped the sales guy from lacing up the other one, got him to find me a pair of 10’s and he laced one while I laced the other, tried it on, walked around in circles for about a minute, then bought them. During this time my mom bumped into my old piano teacher from years and years ago, I think I was learning with this lady from when I was about 6, to about 10. I had one more teacher for 2 years which would be about til 12 or 13 then quit so I wouldn’t have to be in the advanced keyboard class in grade 8 because it was the stupidest thing EVER since I didn’t learn anything. Not that I learned anything in the regular keyboarding class but at least I was getting like 110% instead of just a 98% in the course. Not that I really cared what my music mark was, but it was always nice to see litterally 110% on my grades. (we got 10% for practicing outside of class time, so I would milk those points for what they were worth, and it was obvious I got 100% because I’d been playing piano for like 8-9 years compared to everyone else who’d only learned the year before, but since I wasn’t on the “advanced roster” she couldn’t mark me any harder than anyone else.) And totally didn’t recognize me. Ya. When I was 11 I didn’t have piercings you could see through, purple hair, or was 5′11″.

So. I got a pair of grey pants, 3 pairs of grey socks, and a pair of grey and blue shoes.
Hrm. I always thought I would just be emo and goth and only wear black until they invented something darker. *Shrugs*

Anyways. Coming home gave me an insane delema.
How would I lace up my shoes?
Thankfully, Ian of Ian’s Shoelace Site gave me all the information I needed. I got a pair of light grey as well as a pair of dark blue shoelaces with my shoes so I had twice as many options to go for, which even included the multi-laced options!

I was choosing between the bushwalk, the ladder, the doubleback, the double-cross, the zipper, the checkerboard, the loop-back, and the lock lacing. I ended up with the zipper because it’s kind of cool to have a row of diamonds running up the middle of these really wide poofy looking sk8er shoes. The problem with them being it’s really hard, nearly impossible to tighten these down, but I don’t really wear my shoes tight anyways because I’ve got foot problems. I need to find my custom made insoles too. God those are bloody expensive but so worth it with aligning my knees, hip and back from what normal shoes do to me. They were a godsend when I put them into my rollerblades, except for the fact I absoloutly STINK at rollerblading, I can’t brake at all and going downhill is a nightmare because I have no way of controlling my speed other than a high-speed collision with a stationary object. I usually used trees. But on residential streets there are no trees growing in the middle of the street so I just had to start praying to any god that would listen. I think Elvis answered.

Anyways, since I’ve litterally gone over 10k characters in this post, I should shut up because I know for a fact only 3 people will read down to the bottom of this. And even I’m probably not one of them.

Edit: I am using the Zipper as my lacing pattern, and Ian’s Secure Shoelace Knot as my knot-tying technique.

Seriously I didn't plan on drinking tonight. But seriously. I was at elevator today, I needed to pick up my frames that I got done “on trade” for the stuff I'd done. Which was really helping Phil, but whatever. I got my frames which are f***ing SEXY as hell. But I dropped off the Modcon book for Bob, and he wasn't around and Kevin wasn't particularly interested. Anyways, I dropped off Phil's Corona, and the Stella I bought. It was funny because Kevin was all like “You didn't need to buy anything for us…” then he saw what I bought for Cory, and was like “Okay, Cory's getting the Corona because this is my fave.” So I know what Kevin likes to drink now. But I mentioned a typo in his website and he was talking about wanting to update. And I offered to do it if I could, and Kevin was all like “If you can do it for me I might have to give the beer back to you to thank you!” It was funny. But now Elevator has my phone number now so they can call me when they get busy and I'll go in when I can to do whatever b****work they want me to do. And I guess I work for them because I got my first assignment. I'm going to update two of their html pages because their webmaster is like gone until November.

But that's not even the reason I'm drunk. I wasn't going to drink tonight I swear. But while on the way to B.Sav's house, I was driving and this guy stopped in the middle of the street. So I had to like stop real quickly because I didn't think he was stopped (the stop sign was maybe 100ft in front of him, I thought he was slowing down for the stop sign. But he suddenly threw his backing-up lights on and I didn't have enough time to back up myself, I leaned on my horn twice, for at LEAST 4 seconds each, while trying to throw my own car into reverse, the guy STILL f***ing backs into me. F***ING HELL. Seriously. I got out of my car and it wasn't anything, he cracked the plastic licenceplate holder and nothing happened to his car, it was totally low-impact but he definately rocked my car. We somewhat argued with more people who were trying to blame *ME* like dude. I was honking, I wasn't EXTREMELY far behind you but did you not LOOK IN YOUR REAR VIEW MIRROR BEFORE YOU STARTED BACKING THE F*** UP? And even if you didn't, DID YOU NOT F***ING HEAR ME HONKING MY ASS OFF AT YOU AS YOU STARTED TO BACK UP?!? Everyone kept trying to blame me and seriously. You're backing up for NO REASON. I explained to you what was normal on this street. Your brakes were on, because you were stopping for the stop sign, 100ft in front of you. I stopped behind you because I didn't see you were actually stopped completely. I was behind you. I honked. You didn't look back, and you didn't hear me even though I was honking the second your back lights turned on. In the end, I got the guy to get his friend to give me 20 bucks to replace the cracked plastic plate cover (who still argued that it might have been cracked before he hit me, along with the whole “I didn't see you because I didn't think to look back that someone might have stopped behind me, I didn't hear you even though you honked for like 5 seconds”) and I'm just not going to deal with it.

Then I showed up at B.'s house and was like “Someone just f***ing backed into my car. I want to get drunk.” We got a bottle of Rum and I layed into my two drinks like no one's business and couldn't f***ing get up. Before that I was rollerblading. I f***ing SUCK at rollerblading. I know why I unicycle now. It wasn't that bad when it was uphill because I was slow, even though like a family including two very young children, I overheard one say “Why is she going so slow?” when B and Chev were both yards ahead of me cuz they're better skaters than I am. It was depressing. But that was going to this parking lot dude. Going back sucked because I can't use the brake, and I don't know how else to slow down then a “snowplow” move from beginner skating lessons when I was like 10, and skiing, either way it doesn't work on rollerblades when going down a gentle slope. So I totally missed a turn I was supposed to make, but we still got home, and I'm never skating again. I'm going to get my 29'er built up and I'll just ride that as the boys blade around. At least when its winter I can still uni, but their skates are going to have to retire for the season.

I still can't believe the guy A) didn't look behind him “because I didn't think someone would be behind me” before backing up, and B) didn't HEAR ME F***ING HONKING MY ASS OFF at him. F***. I know I'm drinking a lot now, but that guy was f***ing STUPID! It deserved getting drunk for. I have a cracked plastic licence-plate holder, but that doesn't replace the caved in driver side door. And hell the dude paid for my drinks. And seriously. I've never been this drunk before. To the point that I was cut off from my alca-ma-hol until the pizza got here.

Whatever. I got my frames, the modcon prints are in to get framed, and I should get called for Elevator's next big hotel job. Because learning how to frame would be cool. And Kevin was definately cool with the idea of me working for the gallery. Rock.

Oh my god I'm so f***ing drunk!

Mostly because I didn't drink. Shocking, I know. Last night I went to Badur's so we could hang out and I could pick up a few things I left there. (Why, when its Phil who moved two towns countries over, that I'm the one moving all my stuff out?) Anyways, the trials unicycle sans seat is still there because there was no room in my car. But that's not the point. The point is Badur made me an awsome pasta dinner with a nearly empty fridge while I did the all the easy-to-do dishes that filled the sink which I could use as a bath tub. I stopped when dinner was ready… and when the drying rack was full.

But Mr. Brewmaster Adam of two doors over invited Badur, me and Glen to some surprise going away party thrown by one of his friends/clients (something like that) in a posh condo basically on the lake front. I felt silly going but ended up getting pressured into going anyways. It was like other socially ackward situations where I knew no one and felt completely out of place. Except for the fact I was very obviously getting hit on by a chick high on E. It was quite comical.

At the end of it, Badur's telling me this is what my life is going to be like in about 10 years. Scary, but likely true. It's just weird talking to people that are saying “I'm going to miss this girl so much, I've known her for the past 15 years.” And it was somewhat familiar of the week before. It doesn't matter if you've known someone for 15 days, 3 months, 5 years, 15 years or 3 decades. You'll always miss them when they go.

Well Phil went off on his adventures on Tuesday. I spent the previous 4 days pretty much glued to his side because I know it won’t be until at least December that I might possibly see him again. Friday & Saturday was an overnight adventure. Sunday I actually went to Unicycle club without him, and didn’t see him all day. Monday I was hanging out a bit and also at Tom Brazda’s birthday shenanagins, and walked back from Sneak’s to the house for sitting and conversing until it was time to leave.

I had to pick up a CD for some married unicyclists, picked up a bunch of my own cd’s, stole a few cd’s that wern’t mine, picked up the prints for a photo lottery to be framed at Elevator. I need to also pick up my frames with my grad composite as well as my diploma/degree from elevator. I was supposed to grab a copy of Modcon for Bob as well but forgot. So I’ll be showing up with beer, prints to be spotted & framed, and picking up my own frames, plus the hopes of a framing apperenticeship. Bob’s apperently been singing my praises to people, random people, at Vistek of all places (to Mykhull, so not exactly random but still) and Kevin apperently also likes me, and more than trusted me to cut his matteboards & stuff for the family show. It would be fun to learn how to frame. I think I have the general gist of it already. Another job might be nice.

Phil also decided on taking Ted, my freestyle Torker to Mexico with him, instead of his Kris Holm Trials. He took the seat off the Trials so I’ll have to put my seat off Danielle on Kris, then I’ll buy a black KH Gel seat to go between Danielle and my new 29′er that will need to be built at some point. Soon too, because I’ll have to visit Phil and bring it with me so he has someone to ride with.

I’m hopefully hosting a unicycling party for the premier release of the next extreme unicycle DVD Defect. I want the Toronto Unicyclist club at my house, along with the members of Strap-On Tools since they’re featured as an artist on the soundtrack.

I had a bunch more driving dreams. I just can’t remember them right now.

I have what I believe to be a well paying job, and its not like I drink *THAT* much, but this stuff is bloody expensive! Ah well. It's only money right? It's not like I have anyone I really want to spend it on, I mind as well spend it on myself. Kind of depressing when I think about it that way, then again all of my relationships have been getting kind of depressing. *Shrug* Meh. Whatever.

At least my frames are ready at elevator. I need to go some time this weekend to drop stuff off as well although I forgot junk so I'll have to go back. I'll always have to go back. Apperently Bob has been complimenting me to people that barely know me. Interesting enough, at least I hope it will make asking for a job/apperenticeship that much easier.

I wrote a diary entry for mal. Go read it. It's all about his trip back to Ohio.

My friends band, and his friends band (Strap-On Tools & Jemo) is playing at Trin/Port on October 27th for some Halloween Week-long bonanza. I'm thinking of either trying to dress up as Britney spears (Pregnant catholic school girl?) or like a goth punk type person, which should be easier than the pregnant catholic school girl. It's the difference between black lipstick & black nail polish… and a catholic school girl uniform that I can tie up but make me look pregnant. Bah. Too bad B.Sav doesn't want to dress up like Strongbad. He wants to, but you apperently can't play guitar in boxing gloves.