Emo vs Goth

For those of you not in the know (and hey, I’m right there with you), I have recently found out some info that may be usefull. For a while now there has been a new breed of teenager whose look is classified as ‘Emo.’ Now, you may look at them and see Goth, but apparently calling an Emo a Goth and a Goth an emo is like wearing a wrong colored bandana in downtown Gang City and you are asking for punishment. So I was confused, what was the difference? no one new, so I googled it and was directed to a site that Heidi had previously told me about, Ask a Ninja.

You can find out all about Emo vs Goth here.

Girly Girl and her Wheels.
I am irrationally attached to my car. I spend more time in my car than I do with some of my friends. I have an hour long commute (both ways) on good days, up to 2.5 hrs on bad (snowy days). I eat in my car, drink coffee, learn greek, sing along to the radio, contemplate life, work on my story dialogue, plan my day and day dream in my car.

When it had to go into the shop last week to get two new tires, I was lost without it. I had my mum’s car, graciously and generously loaned to me for as long as I would need it, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t my car. There was no funny rattling sound when I stopped at red lights. No ‘Check Engine’ light glared at me from the dash. The heat worked great, the windshield wipers cleaned both sides, there was a cd player. It just wasn’t the same. I know that sounds odd, you would think I would have been ecstatic, but, sniff, I missed my car.

So much so that when I went to go pick it up, I had a stupid grin on my face after I paid my bill and was told it was outside. ‘Hi baby!’ I whispered as I opened the driver door and slid in. I re-adjusted all my mirrors and my seat and then patted the steering wheel lovingly. “Did you miss me? I missed you!”

We’ve been through alot together, Perry (my car’s name because he is periwinkle blue) and I. We’ve driven to Vancouver and back, we’ve secretly eaten chocolate bars and hidden the wrappers, he got broken into once and I was devastated. We’ve been frustrated by traffic, and driven late at night with no radio on and only the sound of his windshield wipers whoosing unevenly. We’re mates! We’re pals! We’re homies! He’s my freedom to get to wherever, whenever.

Heh heh, oops.
So maybe I was a little hasty with my former blog. Maybe I didn’t have a technical malfunction. Maybe a couple of cords got really tangled and I was plugging the camera cord into the camera, and then my ipod cord into the computer.

Damn.

I hate when I spark off about something and end up being wrong.

So here’s the pic of the chair. I leave you with the following details:

One sister goes upstairs.
One sister stays down.
There is a crash! A squeal! No reply to “Are you okay?”
And then faintly through laughter a small voice is heard. “Help.”
One sister has to pry the other out of said chair by tipping it sideways and dumping her out.
There is much laughter.
Jenge thinks she will recover with only a few bruises.
The chair cannot be saved.

F$%KING Technology!
You’re supposed to be looking at a picture I just took right now. You’re supposed to be reading along to a VERY FUNNY story involving Me, Jenge and a chair that continues to break, yet we continue to use (I know, you’re DYIN’ for details). I even took a picture to illustrate.

Unfortunately, my camera is currently not speaking to my computer. Something about one of them said the other one was a luddite and then the other got really mad and now refuses to work.

Damn technology!

Who knew!
I found this on Miss Snark’s site.

DISCLAIMER – get the kiddies out of the room for this one!

Martin Scorsese’s ‘Sesame Streets’

A Trip to the Medium
Maybe I think too much. Here’s the deal… I found out the name of a Calgarian medium and Jenge and I decided to go. After Jenge and I went, Chantal, Sandi, Corinne, Donna and Ann went, along with some of Jenge’s co-workers.

After hearing everyone’s stories of their visits, I’ve found the following:
1. Two different people got told shoe stories
2. Two different people got told about tomatoes
3. Two different people got told they had healing energies for animals
4. Two different people got told about roses
5. Two different people got told about sweet peas
6. Two different people got told that their back hurts because of their shoes

The interesting thing is, it’s never the same two people. Am I just being overly analytical or does this seem strange? Is my brain working too hard on this? I mean, the medium told us lots of other stuff that was very specific to each individual and didn’t overlap, but I seem to be stuck on the overlapping stuff.

Am I being too thinky thinky on this?

Winter. . .again.

I was out walking the dogs the other day and taking some pictures so I could scrapbook winter. Winter is very pretty. Snow covered trees look pristine, everything looks fresh and crisp with a blanket of snow.

I don’t mind the snow and the cold, unless it’s windy in which case, I can’t stand it. And traffic sucks too. But on the weekends, I like looking out the window and seeing a white, snow covered, frosty world.

Not everybody dislikes Winter!

Portia loves the snow. She goes outside on the patio and lies down with her belly snuggled against all that coldness. She’d stay out there all day if Rocky didn’t come inside. She hates to be outside alone, so as soon as Rocky comes in she cries at the door. But while she’s out there, she loves it!

Oh, the ennui of it all! I’m barely able to keep up with all my appointments (wake my mother up by slapping her across the face with a paw, breakfast, napping, turn over, napping, move with the sun, napping, dinner, napping etc etc). Thank GOD my mother booked me in a doggie spa this weekend, I really need to get away from it all. . .