Beyond the fun stuff like hanging out all day listening to music, or having freaky relations underneath the covers, the bedroom is supposed to be a place of rest. I truly believe that. The bedroom should be a place where you can relax, unwind, and just enjoy being a human. My bedroom, however, is a mess. We probably know where the rest of this post is going, don't we.

I've decided to not play WoW tonight and get my warrior to level 67, just so I can start work on my room. I took all the clothes that were lying in piles around my room and in several hampers, clean or not, and just dumped them into the hallway. It made one huge pile. I don't know how this happened. I have no clue how I've accumulated this much cloth. My fucking closet and the 6 drawer Ikea dresser I bought last summer are full of clothes and there's a huge pile that as of this moment has no where else to be. So I have to do what the interior decorators on TV call a “hard editting”. I've been able to let go of a lot of junk these past few weeks, but my clothes will be the hardest to let go.

I haven't started on the pile yet. To prevent my cats from nesting in the pile, I shoved it into my bathroom. I'll start the process of sorting, laundering and throwing away (to recycling shops and charities of course) over the weekend. The boy is playing guitar for a soundtrack and recording on Saturday morning, so this may be one of the few weekends we won't be spending any time together. That's okay because i need to take care of all these clothes. I still can't believe I amassed all this stuff.

I'm a recovering packrat. I like simplicity and minimalism but putting that all into practice requires tremendous thought and effort on my part. Besides, there are things that were in this house that I should have let go years ago. And I don't mean just the 5 year old bills from previous apartments, all the broken gadget and manuals from stuff I don't even own anymore.

In other house news, I think it's neat that the bulbs I've planted late winter are starting to sprout. I can't wait to see how it'll turn out. Why must plants be so slow.

Angelina Jolie you’re a hypocrite. That’s right, I said it. I love you in movies, and I think you’re beautiful, and to some extent, I respect what you stand for. But you’re travelling to these exotic places, picking out exotic babies that make it seem more like a purse collection. There are thousands of children in your home country that are born in absolute poverty, that need the intervention of a millionaire celebrity godmother, children that will grow up hopeless, on the street or worse. Yes, it happens in America. I don’t think it’s the need to have children that drives you, Ms. Jolie, rather than the need to have international rescues to add to your repertoire. Saint Angelina indeed.

And all the trend followers of adopting children from whatever 3rd world nation is most fashionable of the week, this rant calls you out too.

Iranians hate 300, what?

Small reminder for people who get politically worked up about (not-so-big-budget) hollywood eye-candy flicks:

point 1: Ancient day Persians are not equal to modern day Iranians.

point 2: Ancient day Spartans and Grecians are definitely not equal to modern day Americans.

point 3: you’re right, there probably weren’t millions of Persians at the Battle of Thermopylae, but neither were there just 300 greeks, and chances are Xerxes didn’t look like a polished, bronze, pierced statue, just as it was unlikely that the Spartans went into this battle clad just in leather shorts (though I have read that Spartans did go into battle naked at times).

It’s a movie about half nekkid, super cut Italians with Scottish accents hacking through over-costumed and heavily made up sword-wielding stunt dudes led by an 8 foot tall body-mod afficianado with a Brazilian accent. How seriously do you want to take this as historical accuracy or propaganda even?

In fact, dare i say that the Persian Empire depicted in 300 has more in common with modern Superpower Americans, steam rolling smaller, poorer countries for the promise of easy access to oil? Hrmmmmmmmmmmmmm? (I’m being tongue-and-cheek here, I don’t necessarily share this view about most Americans)

Now for the sexy eye candy:

I’ve felt like I’ve been out of it forever, when really I just haven’t posted anything to my journal for about a week, a little more. It started when a coworker friend and I were talking about how the city we live in doesn’t offer much for her, a bored, single and urban-minded girl, and despite what the lifers think about this place, she has a point. Where do young, single, urban professionals go around here for a good time? They drive to Toronto, is what they do.

Anyway, we concluded that we had to have a get together. And since both of us liked to cook, this get together must involve food. And since she wanted to try other people’s cookings, we decided to have a pot luck. And since she already hosted a martini party and soon afterward, my birthday party at her place, I thought I’d offer up my place. Which set me into early spring cleaning mode. Me and the ex had nifty parties all the time at our old place. Well… we weren’t die hard party people, but we had more get togethers than the average people. I hadn’t hosted anything much since two years ago, the only party I’ve had here and that was for my birthday.

Read the rest of this entry…

I took a seat on the bus last night, and a while little bored waiting for it to go, I sent an adorable little girlfriend-ish text message to the boyfriend, something cutesy-wootsy and mushy I’m sure (yeah I’m girl enough to admit that I do that). At about the same time, a fat gangster wannabe kid behind me pulls out his cell phone and starts talking loudly. I remember this guy while waiting for the bus at the station. I was trying to look outside to see if my bus was coming in, and in doing so I had to look past his scraggly, pasty friend with a pathetic teenage moustache. This winner thought I was looking at him and gives me a “WTF you looking at bitch” kind of look, which I thought was kinda funny.

The fat kid gets on my bus. His conversation went kind of like:

“Yo. Can i come over? You got stuff for me. Oh, I understand. But you doing well right? What’s your new cell phone. 289… ### … F A T T ?? Yeah, that’s the phone you found right? John got a new cell phone. Yeah, he jumped some kid for it. He’s crashing at Amanda’s place. He got Amanda pregnant. Yeah, fucked up. Haha, you love Amanda don’t you. I saw Vince the other day. Yeah, Vince wants to beat you up. Just kidding. No you can’t come over, my mom’s pretty sick… ”

Though this isn’t typical of my usual trips home, once in a while something happens which makes me honestly think that stupid people should really, really stop having kids.