Wednesday, 28 November 2012

What to do when you work part-time or less.

I understand that some people may spend their time differently and I am in no way condoning procrastination, laziness or vanity but sometimes laziness is more fun than actually doing something productive.
Say whutt!
I know most of you check in to see lovely photos of my travels and stuff so if that's what you're here to do, look away now.

SO, what I sometimes like to do is get my camera out. Today I purposely tried to take a photo of my forehead to see how other people see it {photos never lie and all that} and my forehead is definitely a 5-HEAD. What  I also realised is I'm a fairly talented liquid-eyeliner-applier. Life's little surprises.

What I also find myself doing, is spending obscene amounts of time in front of the mirror playing with my hair or my makeup. Today I discovered a freckle on my left ear that I hadn't noticed in 23 years! It's really noticeable now I know it's there.

After putting your hair in pleats {because it was my most stylish childhood hairdo and I have no belongings so really there's not much else you can do} take photos of yourself. The key to posting these is to add some sort of Instagram-y effect so that you look much better and NOTHING like the real you.

  Eat chocolates at midnight just 'cause you can. I found this Roger's Eggnog chocolate on my pillow tonight when I came in from a tiresome 4hour shift at the meat counter, bless. I wonder if she'd appreciate it if I returned the favour with a foot long lobster tail on her pillow.

Stay in your pyjamas ALL day just 'cause you can.
Until you get hungry...

But how do you get to the supermarket when you can't afford a car? Buy a bike. SPEND SPEND SPEND that's what I say! This red lady was $150 dollars including a solid lock and including tax. The guy actually took the price of the bike down from $129 to $100.

The only thing left to do is cook. I made my speciality, Potato Wazzies, a firm favourite in the Peyton household.  A drool inducing combination of potatoes, double cream, cheese, red onion and garlic.

The saddest part about this post is that I genuinely was taking photos of my forehead. Lets all cross our fingers and hope that I get some more hours at work.


Friday, 23 November 2012

How To Celebrate Thanksgiving Like A Rockstar.

First things first:
Buy your dinner. Preferably a Hungry-Man dinner or something of that quality...
 If it's just you then great, it'll fit in the microwave just fine. And while it's cookin' have a think about why you're spending thanksgiving alone. If there are two of you then you just gotta risk the gravy-gravity situation and just squeeze those buggers in...
 Put some classic music on. I opted for 80's Rock...
 Set the table. Simplicity is key...

Make sure your freezer's on, otherwise your ice cream will melt. If this happens, don't fret, canned soup is a splendid substitute... mmmm...
OR if things are really tight, save the cranberries from your Hungry-Man dinner.

In full tradition here are a few things I'm grateful for...
1. I'm grateful that I was brought up to have a mind of my own, not limited in any way, and free to be curious about anything and everything and never indoctrinated in any way.
2. I'm grateful that by luck and luck alone I was born into a country where I can think and say what I want. Thank f*%k for that.
3. I'm grateful for potatoes. All kinds, mainly the fatty kinds. Who the hell likes boiled potatoes though? Mums that's who.
4. I'm eternally grateful for the Irish accent. Turning ladies into sluts one "I'm from Galway" at a time.

How depressing is Christmas looking though, seriously?!! HA.

Thursday, 22 November 2012

So, what do you do?

Things usually go pretty badly for me, in general, and I tend to have no luck whatsoever SO when things are going my way I love to show off and that's why this post is dedicated to my jammy life in the suburbs. I want to show you my new pad and delightful little neighbourhood and I'll finally be that person y'all bitch about 'cause I brag all the time but it's really 'cause you're jealous.
So we got an apartment and we both got're looking at the new meat grinder for Urban Fare supermarket. I don't know what a meat grinder is and the job title is actually 'meat clerk' but I think 'MEAT GRINDER' has a better ring to it, don't you think? Sounds a bit creepy doesn't it? And I don't like touching meat {I boke in my mouth at the mere thought of raw chicken} but I'm bloody excited!
Paula, of course, got a job in Roger's Chocolate Shop filled with chocolates and ice cream and fireplaces and other magical things which fairytales are made of. Typical.
I've not exactly landed the most endearing title.
"So what do you do? *wink wink*"
"MEAT GRINDER". Not fit.
Hopefully the man of my dreams finds the task of grinding beef to be a very important, serious and alluring job and I'll bewitch my customers into thinking it's fascinating and glamorous. <br>
I went for my first run tonight which was entertaining. I don't think I tried my best because I was trying to make my ponytail swoosh and then watching it in my shadow {every girl does that though, right?} and then I was having such a great time singing and the streets are so quiet here and noone knows me so I was really giving it everything. Beyonce got me home. When I got home it felt the same as when I first started cycling so I think I'll keep it up. Saying that, we've just bought ice cream and popcorn. Tell me if you disagree but it seems to me Paula's on a sabotage mission, it was her idea.

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

i think there's a man in the trunk (edited)

Have you ever heard that urban legend about the lady getting chased in her car? Y'know, and the car is frantically beeping at her and flashing the lights...because there's a guy in her back seat. Well.
This just happened {part of it anyway}.We pulled over, they beeped as they went past, we checked the back of the car. No problem, right? WRONG. The other girls have obviously never heard this legend because they never checked the BOOT!!! And for obvious reasons I was too embarrassed to ask. I've spent the last 45 minutes staring at a car trunk from the back seat. I'm not sure what I'm expecting to happen, like the dude's gonna hop out as we're doing 70 down a motorway but you never know. You just never know.

Our road trip to Whistler was great, it was amazing to be back again. I got to relive my near-death-by-bear memories as I stood outside our hotel lobby and told the story of how I narrowly escaped a mauling as it ran through our lobby as I exited the elevator. It was really pretty too.
It was freezing cold but crisp and dry and the sky was clear. 

Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Serious Face.

Euugh so aren't job hunting and flat hunting the most soul destroying processes in the universe? YES!! Ok so I've only viewed one apartment and been to one interview but I'm already having a nervous breakdown!
I've been in the same job for 5 years for which my interview was pr-etty informal, informal enough that I wore my school uniform complete with blazer and gross school hair.
The interview went alright I think, coming from me I suppose that doesn't mean much though, right? I say alright because at the end he gave me an interview preparation guide. I'm not sure if he was hinting. I've been given a 'home test' to do so they can check whether I've lied on my resume and I've literally been staring at the Go To link for around half an hour now. I've never been good at tests, that's why I failed my English Textual Analysis exam 5 times. My English is just fine thank you very much. I'm a woman, I don't like being wrong so I don't like tests. I feel like I've been transported back to 15 except I'm wearing a fancy dress and I'm not sporting a cut-it-yourself fringe or jet black hair dye.
Our first viewing was a one bed 3rd floor apartment in Kitsilano, 2 blocks from the beach and with a smashing view of the Downtown Vancouver skyline. And a balcony. We've not taken it yet because we're boring grown ups now and don't want to rush into anything. Give it another week in the Cambie though and the grown ups will go out the window. We walked back to our hostel over the bridge because we found ourselves already on it looking for an ATM. What a view! I think I'll go back when we're less hungry.

On a brighter note...there's an extremely high possibility we're going on a road trip to Whistler this week, amen to that sistahs! Dorito time! I don't think the other girls will appreciate the epic-ness of our Rod Stewart playlist though.

Monday, 12 November 2012

Sort Your Life Out

So it's 5am, Sunday morning and there's a few stragglers from the night before who still haven't gone to bed. I'm sitting in a room with a drunk Paula, a man playing a guitar who's telling us all how much coke and whatever else he's taken and when his baby's due, petty abuse is being hurled back and forth between myself and an Englishman, there's an American navy guy and 2 girls who don't even stay here, one of which is sprawled across a couch sleeping and the other I'm positive was just in a toilet cubicle with a boy. Grim.
Anyways, somehow there's all these pretend accents flying about, some better than others ;) and this Aussie guy walks in so I hit him with my best Aussie accent and he actually believed me! Not only did he believe me but when I eventually told him I was actually Scottish he didn't believe it! I'd finally done it, I'd practised so much I lost my own identity. I started questioning who the f*!k I was and went to bed. I lost money, Paula lost her bag, Paula broke in to a bar (neither of us know the details), I found Paula's bag, we missed a flat viewing the next day and were 2 hours late for a mashed potato date with a friend AND {mum and dad close your eyes} I kissed the first Canadian. High five!!
1 grand down, we need to sort our lives out and get jobs.