Thursday, August 25, 2011

G-words Urban Dictionary

wow i just got lost on urban dictionary for forty five minutes and i feel so much dumber for it. As all internet tangents seem to, it started with an innocuous Google search. I was searching the word "g33k". I crossed paths with G33k Sp33K a few months ago in a fiction book i was reading about cyber hacking and bullying. Google lead me to Urban Dictionary and it was all downhill from there. UD has a left sidebar with a list of words that are before and after the searched word alphabetically. How could i resist? I randomly clicked on a few different G33K words and then scrolled up the list a bit farther and came to all these G-word abbreviations, almost none of which i recognized. The only abbreviation i knew out of 30 words was g/f (which i assume means girlfriend, but I'm probably wrong)... I arbitrarily clicked through them and thought I'd share a few so we could all be up on the new slang out there. I avoided all G33K Sp33K words because they make my brain hurt and i think using them makes your social standing instantly lower.

GOY: Go Off Yourself. A nice alternative to G.F.Y, and also slightly more offensive.

G.L.A.J. An abbreviated way to say Go Lick a Jew.

And then i was shocked when i came across "G.NA", which is the stage name for a girl we went to school with who became a famous singer in Korea. It totally looks like she added this entry herself.

The Canadian born South Korean singer currently under Cube Entertainment. She is well known for her great looks and beautiful singing voice. She is fluent in also English and is very popular throughout the world.

Person A: Wow, who is that hot, but equally talented singer in that video?
Person B: That's G.NA of course.

This one is rude but hilarious:

My favorite find was on the Word of the Day section though: "get an inbox "

Derived from the expression "get a room." When couples constantly leave romantic, mushy or suggestive messages on each other's Facebook wall for everyone else to see, someone else may tell them to "get an inbox already" and carry on in private.
Sadie: I love you SO FUCKING MUCH ahhhhhhh Im gonna die from how much I love you <3 <3 <3
Ian: me too bby
Sabrina: holy shit guys, get an inbox.

Well that's it for Sharing is Caring hour. I hope you enjoyed our G Words session. I also hope this eliminates the need for anyone else to waste any precious time on Urban Dictionary! You're welcome!

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Whilst Living Alone

I've picked up lots of skills and have learned many lessons whilst living alone.

***WARNING: These next three paragraphs are off topic, but i couldn't stop myself! This off topic rant kind of makes this blog a twofer, two topics in one blog! You should probably be excited! (I know you probably aren't which is why i keep ending each sentence in an exclamation mark!)

I was about to type "while" in my opening sentence but "whilst" ended up in my head and I couldn't resist using it even though i don't really know what it means. It has so much more oomph than its more common cousin "while". Let's find out if they are both correct. I wouldn't want to be making any grammatical mistakes, that would be embarrassing.
Wikipedia says: "While" is a word in the English language that functions both as a noun and as a subordinating conjunction. Its meaning varies largely based on its intended function, position in the phrase and even the writer or speaker's regional dialect. With exception to its form as a noun, it is synonymous with the word "whilst", a form considered archaic outside the United Kingdom.

The American Heritage Guide writes that, "while using whilst runs the risk of sounding pretentious, it can sometimes add a literary or ironically formal note to a piece of writing."
Ahhh HA! Exactly what i was looking for! I love running the risk of sounding pretentious. In fact, I strive for it. Even that last sentence with its "in fact" sounded pretentious! I can't stop myself if i tried. And why would i try? I think they were a bit strong in calling it archaic. I reckon old school would be a more fitting, less prejudicial term. Anyhow, let it be decreed that the word 'whilst' is OK in my books, and yours too, if you know what's good for you. End of Word Of The Day interlude.***

Let me begin again. I recently read a book called The Girl's Guide to Absolutely Everything. I call it the Bible. This book has everything a young woman needs to know about money, work, health, relationships and life in general. It covers off what to do if you forget someones name (i prefer the sneaky way- introducing them to someone else in order to get them to say their name again, that or stealing their wallet and checking their ID), how to properly clean your shower (naked, duh), how to combat Crying at work (work is about Facts, not Feelings!) and a million other things I am glad to know. It made me think of all the stuff i had to learn the hard way when i moved out on my own.

Don't get me wrong, living alone is fun. I don't have to share any of stuff with anyone. I can eat whatever i want, whenever i want. I sleep whenever i want, wherever i want (i like to get even wear on all my sleepable surfaces, so i often nap on my couch and sleep in my guest bedroom). I can decorate and redecorate as often as i like, however i like. I can listen to my music with my headphones in and not have to worry about someone sneaking up on me and scaring me half to death. The perks are endless! Unfortunately, so are the downfalls.

I quickly learned that pickle jars are Shelly-proof and that not having a Glenn around to open things makes life tricky. I've since taken to asking friends to open up any new jars when they come over so I don't have to struggle frustratedly to fill my garlic dill pickle craving.

In the home renovations department, I've learned that crying and stomping your feet is not effective when there is nobody around to hear you. But with the help of Google and Home Depot I've installed light fixtures, regrouted tile, refinished furniture, unclogged sinks and how and when to call a professional tradesman (or more often, Mommy & Daddy) to come fix my mess. Luckily, I have a particular knack for getting Good Looking Male Tradesmen to come to the rescue, which makes the whole Epic Fail thing bearable in the end.

I've learned to use a basket instead of a buggy at the grocery store, so that I only buy what I can carry in one trip. Anything more than a basket full is more than I need. I've done the trips where I go grocery-crazy and forget that rule (eg. every trip to Costco I've ever gone on). Then I'm faced with the task of figuring out how to get the groceries arranged on my hands, shoulders and arms in the least painful manner. Once i manage that I have to get them through one fire door with a key followed by a second fire door, four flights of stairs, another fire door and then my condo door which I always open to an Escaping Kitten who must be corralled before a Complaining Neighbour encounter occurs. Lesson Learned, only buy what you can carry...unless you're OK with making two trips (for the Record- I am not). Buggy equals bad. Cart equals crap.

I've learned that there's nobody to blame but yourself when:
  • your clothes get ruined in the washer 
  • the bills don't get paid
  • your plants die
  • the lid was left off the nail polish and it spilled all over the floor
  • or you run out of milk and/or toilet paper
I've learned that responsibility is a bitch, but running out of TP is worse!

Sunday, August 21, 2011

a petrified shelly.

How often do you sit in nothing but silence? For me, it's rarely. There's always someone around, or music playing, or a TV turned on, or traffic noise, or even the hum of a fan in the background to cover up the silence. As anyone who's ever gotten into my car knows, I like my music loud. I don't want to hear myself sing and I definitely don't want to hear other people sing either. I like the feeling of the music surrounding me. It's like an hug for my ears. As I type this, I am sitting in my car in the middle of nowhere with my ears ringing in silence. Or maybe this is what silence is and that ringing is my brain trying to process it but struggling with such an unfamiliar occurrence. I am in butt fuck nowhere and have my car and ipod turned off as I'm afraid to kill my batteries. We're up near West Harrison Lake with a not-so accurate map directing us. Team Smyke have gone off to look for a camping spot. We weren't sure if the roads were driveable in the civic so I'm sitting, waiting, wishing. They better come back for me! They've already been gone a while and I've started nervous eating. I'm working on a large bag of sweet n spicy beef jerky. I just read the nutritional label and that means I've taken in at least half of my daily sodium intake. I feel like i might hurl. That's probably the anxiety though. I hate being left behind. Its like getting lost in the mall, unable to find your shopping buddy. Insert heart palpitations and cold sweats here. I also haven't gone camping in a kajillion years and for some reason I'm freaked out about it. I've already pictured being attacked by a bear, getting lost in the woods on an innocuous nature walk and dying of frostbite in my sleep because I didn't pack enough warm clothes. I am taking deep breaths trying to calm myself and mostly it's working, although maybe it's just my heart slowing down from all the petrified beef. A petrified shelly eating petrified beef, how fitting.

It's almost dark out. What if they can't remember where they left me? I don't have any flares and there's no cell service here. One thing there is lots of is boys driving by. Maybe I should play Damsel in Distress and go with one of them! I have fire wood and homemade haystack treats to offer in exchange for a place to camp. I think I'll leave that to a last resort move. God knows I'll end up with someone who listens to hard core metal  or something, even the silence would beat that.

Wow, score. Just remembered I have a kit kat chunky bar in the trunk. I bought it for us to eat as a late night snack but I'm definitely not sharing with Smyke anymore; not after this interlude of abandonment. I'm getting finger cramps from typing on my bb. I don't want to stop though because I'll have nothing better to do. I bet smyke are all unpacked, sitting by the fire roasting marshmallows with a niggling sensation that they've forgotten something. I bet Saul or Nala will remind them of their left behind shelly. Those dogs have my back!

OK its actually Dusk now. No sign of the blondes. Meow!? Herro? My fingers are out of words. As glennsky would say EOM.

Wow. So its been at least twenty minutes since I finished my last entry and still no sign of Team Smkye. I keep picturing the Blair Witch movie which can't be helping. I'm legitimately freaked out sitting here by myself in the Fairly Dark forest in the middle of nowhere. I'm also scared that something has happened to them but I know that's just me being a wart of worry. Worry wart, if you will. Imagine if I had to sleep here in the car by myself all night? I've done it before (don't ask, horribly painful night and morning after) and would Almost rather die than suffer through that same terrible experience... They r here! Phewwwwwffff.

Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

too many bananas

I was trying to find out about how many bananas one should eat each day and came to the conclusion that there is no such thing as eating too many bananas. To celebrate i think i will have a banana in my dinner protein shake and bake a loaf of banana bread this week.

I did, however, find a super interesting article called "Too Many Bananas, Not Enough Pineapples, and No Watermelon at all" written by an anthrAopologist named David Counts of McMaster University.

It was an interesting find and I think it's worth the read. DO IT. http://anthropology.uwaterloo.ca/WNB/TooManyBananas.html

For those of you too lazy to click on the link or (god forbid) acutally read the damn article, here are the three lessons that come out of his article.

  • Lesson 1: In a society where food is shared or gifted as part of social life, you may not buy it with money.
  • Lesson 2: Never refuse a gift, and never fail to return a gift. If you cannot use it, you can always give it away to someone else. There is no such thing as too much. There are never too many bananas.
  • Lesson 3: Where reciprocity is the rule and gifts are the idiom, you cannot demand a gift, just as you cannot refuse a request.
Esentially, don't be a D Bag, be kind to people, accept and give gifts in kind. Speaking of random interent rummaging-have you tried out www.stumbleupon.com yet? it was a website developed to randomly take you to pages that it thinks you would be interested in based on criteria you give them when you sign up. i find it enjoyable for about 5 minutes at a time and you probably will too. Right after a cupcake website it stumbled upon this pic for me:

Monday, August 1, 2011

Update: The Bacon Saga

I hauled ass after work on Friday to get to the specialty store to buy some Baconnaise. This store has a billion things i would love to own but i went in with a focused mind, determined not to be distracted by all the cooking and baking specialty items that would certainly make my life SOOO much better. I browsed every aisle and shelf and wasn't able to find any baconnaise. I did come across tomato paste in a tube whick KT has been searching for, so i grabbed that. Note: It doesn't even count as a distracted purchase if it's a gift for someone else. After about 15 minutes i put my hrmph face on and hunted down a store employee. Let's replay the convo:

Me: Hi, can you please tell me where to find the baconnaise?
She replies ( in a snotty voice not befitting of my very nicely asked question), "The WHAT?!|
Me: "The Baconnaise", I say again, a bit more slowly with proper enunciation. "It's bacon mayo," I add helpfully.
"OHhhhhhh," she replies, "we don't carry that anymore, they were giving us product with short shelf life."

My draw drops and my eyes start to water and I ask if they are planning on getting more in the future because I'd been really looking forward to trying it and for it to change my life. My voice is getting louder and louder and  I sort of sound like I'm yelling at her. She responds that she doesn't know if they will be stocking it and tries to sell me lemmonaise- it's lemon, it's mayo... it's baconless! I politely decline and head up to the till to buy the tomato paste in a tube. When I get to the till she points out a Dark Bacon Chocolate Bar for sale. Without a moments hesitation and an internally muttered DUH, I grab one. The bill comes to around $13. I think to myself, wow that tomato paste is pricey!
I text message Alanna to let her know I am bringing a fun surprise but that, unfortunately, it's not bacon mayo. I arrive at the cabin and whip out the dark bacon chocolate bar. Someone grabs it and flips it over to read the write up on the back and exclaims, " You paid TEN dollars for this!?" [insert embarrassed smiley face here] We read the rest of the write up and it is rather hilarious and very enticing. We are all giggling in anticipation. We rip open the packaging and I crack the bar into pieces.  One of the girls claims that it smells like beef jerky. Greeeeaaaaaaaat... We tentatively take bites and some make gag faces and others chew contemplatively. Safe to say there weren't a lot of yummy noises and if I had to throw a caption on the scene it would say EPIC FAIL. The bar wasn't horrible but it definitely wasn't a crowd pleaser. Pieces of the chocolate sat on a plate the whole weekend without disappearing... in a roomful of girls. I polished off them yesterday before I left to come home as I felt it was kind of my responsibility. Luckily, my homemade brownies with a layer of marshmallow and chocolate fudge icing were definitely a bigger hit and redeemingly necessary for my self confidence.
Get this though! Yesterday for lunch we had smokies. I was doing up my bun and boy oh boy was I pleasantly surprised to find the jar of bacon mayo had made it to the sauce table. This was the jar that started it all- hiding innocuosly in the cabin fridge, miding it's own business. I slathered my bun up with bacconaise and then threw on some bbq sauce and ketchup as well -I hate having to choose between my favorite sauces. I grabbed a smokie and topped it with some cheese, onions and tomatoes and set out to taste test. Unfortunately, I think I sauced too hard as I couldn't even distinguish the baconnaise in the mix. I had assigned a few otherBacconaise taste testers and, again, there weren't any overly yummy noises being made. I think this is where the baconnaise train stops and I get off. I have a feeling my arteries will thank me.

for the rest of the story click here to read the "it's bacon, it's mayo" blog.