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[19 Dec 2007|01:04am]
So yesterday I reported my work for mold. Not enough that mushrooms were growing in my apartment, was it, but now I get to breathe in mold particles at work, too! If there was a God, I would be shaking my fist at him(/her)!

See here:

(The pictures are recent, I just can't be bothered to change the date setting on my camera.)

Unbelievably, that mold has been growing for 2+ years (there's undoubtedly a lot more)and I am the first person to take any initiative to get it cleaned up. The idiot district manager (she who sells clothes to customers by telling them it's 100% leather/silk when it's man-made materials) had the nerve to DENY the existence of mold and tell us it's "just mildew".

When I was working at Le Chateau, they were too cheap to close down the store during renovations. All of the clothes were covered in a thick layer of dust AND they actually refinished the floors during work hours. I don't know if you know anything about varnishing floors, but it's highly toxic and should only be done wearing masks (the workers certainly did). You definitely shouldn't stand around for 10 hours breathing in the fumes with no ventilation. When I told my manager I felt really dizzy and nauseas he actually said "What do you expect ME to do about it??". In hindsight, that is absolutely unacceptable and I should have made way more of a stink about it. I should have walked out right then and called health & safety and complained to a lot more people who weren't just my friends.

But I digress. The point is, I'm not going to take shit lying down anymore. Just because everyone else is completely indifferent to the fact that they're working in a toxic/illegal/poisonous environment doesn't mean it's acceptable, and doesn't mean I should do the same. My manager is my friend, and I love her to death, but it really pisses me off that she hasn't made any effort to make my workplace safe. If you're too scared/lazy/indifferent to ensure that your employees' health isn't endangered you shouldn't take on the responsibility of being a manager.

I don't care what anyone says, I'm proud of myself for being pro-active. Maybe making a phone call seems like a small thing, but it's not something I would have done in the past.
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[09 Jul 2007|01:31pm]
Well, it's been a really long time since I've bothered to post anything. Nothing like a birthday to make you (and by you I mean me) reflect...

I doubt anyone will bother to read this, particularly anyone I know, so I guess this will be for myself more than anyone else. I have a really shit memory too so I suppose it's good to take notes sometimes.

In no particular order, partly because I can't be bothered and partly because I can barely even remember what order they occured in:

Danzig (my cat) died. Totally gutted, even more so because it's sort of my fault because I underestimated how sick he was and didn't get him to the vet soon enough. I'm always wary of vets, as their prices aren't regulated and they're really good at performing unncecessary procudures which inflate the bill to way more than I can afford.....anyway, I learned my lesson the hard way. A couple months later Muffin (aka Rampcat aka George Michael) appeared to be sick with the same thing Danzig died from and I freaked out and took him to the vet ASAP and am consequently $550 poorer. At least he seems to be better now, but not very grateful, and still pissing on the bathmat on a regular basis. Also I've gotton a replacement kitten from the corner store. They had a bunch of kittens and I said I wanted one, so they went into the back and came out with a closed cardboard box. I had no idea what I was getting until I got home and opened it up - a tiny, terrified ball of orange fuzz whose gender I was unsure of until about a week in (I named it Maybe half because it was "maybe" a girl and half because of Arrested Development..). Anyway she has turned out to be pretty great, although a total shit disturber. She harasses Rampcat mercilessly which is kind of adorable but I also feel sort of bad for him. Also she sometimes tries to nurse from him, which is really bizarre but doesn't seem to bother him as much as one would imagine. I think it's kind of cute but everyone else thinks it's really creepy. She just got sepererated too early and thinks Rampcat is her mommy. Anyway I'm sure she will cost me a pretty penny soon enough.

My brother was hospitalized by a few strangers. He went to a party and was found in the morning in an alley blacked out. He had footprints all over his face. Anyone who knows my brother knows he is pretty much the least likely person on earth to start a fight or do something that would deserve a beating, and he definitely doesn't hang out with a "rough crowd", so I guess some random thugs (which is really the nicest thing I can think to call them) took it upon themselves to beat the shit out of him for no reason. I hate to admit that I really didn't want to go see him in the hospital - I had no idea what state he was in and I knew it would be pretty devastating. Fortunately as far as they know so far most of the damage was cosmetic and when the swelling went down it was not nearly as scary - no broken bones or knocked out teeth or anything. They still don't know if any permanent head trauma occured so he has to go to therapy etc. He still doesn't remember anything that happened that night so I'm doubting they'll ever find the guys who did it. It makes me really sad/angry/scared. Also, my brother is really good at acting "normal", so it's pretty impossible to tell if he's (mentally) traumatized by the whole thing. I know I would be, but he doesn't talk about it anymore and I'm kind of scared to bring it up.

I turned 27 yesterday. This is really scary because 27 is the age that I, for some reason, had always thought of as "officially" an "adult". I don't feel like an adult.  I don't think I want to be an adult. If someone calls me a woman I laugh at them. It makes me sort of (really) sad that I have successfully alienated myself from people who would potentially care enough to give me a card, or a present, or call me and sing happy birthday, or throw me a party. If any of you are reading this, I'm sorry and it's nothing personal. It's me being an idiot and scared of getting close enough to people that they could hurt me.

I'll do more later. This is exhausting.

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[30 Jan 2007|12:06am]
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[10 Dec 2006|08:42am]
In his essay “The Mall of America,” David Guterson compares malls to ancient market places: “All over the planet the humblest of people have always gone to market with hope in their hearts and in expectation of something beyond mere good – seeking a place where humanity is temporarily in ascendance, a palette for the senses, one another.” (114). A successful mall will strive to emulate these market places and the feelings of community that they conjure. The Eaton Centre exemplifies this theory successfully put to practice, while Shopper’s World fails to achieve the same results due to poor planning. Malls are to community as nostalgia is to authentic happiness. Both malls and nostalgia evoke false emotion based on association.

There are many ways in which The Eaton Centre mimics the outside environment. Not only does this bring to mind an outdoor market but also alleviates the feeling of claustrophobia common in malls and allows shoppers to spend many hours there. Most floors are open and vaulted skylights permit an abundance of natural light. Even the elevators are encased in glass. There are kiosks throughout the mall, similar to those one might find on the street or at an outdoor market. Two water features – a fountain and a waterfall – serve three purposes: to further the feeling that one is outside, to counteract chatter and music from stores with the relaxing white noise of running water and to provide landmarks where people can meet. The fountain is surrounded by seating, which makes it an ideal place for people to wait for friends. Upon entry to the mall one is greeted by high glass ceiling and sculptures of birds in flight, giving the impression that one is not entering a building at all but simply a temperature-controlled section of the outside. There are even trees and comfortable seating beneath them.

The staggered floor placement in the Eaton Centre provides for a more organic and interesting floor plan, allowing shoppers to wander and get lost, ultimately spending more time than planned at the mall. Guterson refers to this in his essay: “Getting lost, feeling lost, being lost – these states of mind are intentional features of the mall’s psychological terrain. There are, one notices, no clocks or windows, nothing to distract the shopper’s psyche from the alternate reality the mall conjures.” (113)

Conversely, Shoppers’ World, a hybrid plaza/mall, epitomizes a complete lack of forethought regarding the human element of a mall. Shoppers must navigate an unnecessarily large parking lot that surrounds the building like a moat. The building is a drab block that prioritizes speedy shopping over aesthetics and any aspect of socialization. It is simply a destination born out of necessity; a place to go when one is in need of toilet paper or cheap shoes. With hardly any windows and no skylights at all, one must rely on the sterile glow of florescent light. Despite relatively recent renovations, the mall looks dated and defies its past as a building that may have seemed cutting edge in 1962 when it opened. Instead of appearing clean and modern, the minimal architecture of the squat building is stark and boring, reminiscent of a jail or elementary school. Very
few of the stores are connected and one must brave the elements to go in between them; this is not ideal in a northern climate.

Consumers want an idealized version of the outside, one without rain and snow. This is why strip malls and plazas are becoming obsolete. As Guterson says:
The new malls will be planets unto themselves, closed off from this world in the manner of space stations or of science fiction’s underground citied…. safe, surreal, and outside of time and place, they will offer the mind a potent dreamscape from which there is no present waking. (122)
The more controlled the environment of a mall is, the more successful it will be in dictating the shoppers’ emotions, and therefore buying habits.

The stores that reside in it will always, in part, determine the quality and successfulness of a mall. However, a mall’s ability to evoke a false sense of community in consumers by mimicking traditional market places will also play a pivotal role in that enterprise’s future successes. The Eaton Centre and Shopper’s World are two very dissimilar malls that prove this.

Works cited
Guterson, David. “Enclosed. Encyclopedic. Endured: The Mall Of America.” The Norton Reader. Ed. Linda H. Peterson, John C. Brereton. New York. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 2004
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[09 Oct 2006|05:39pm]
I was under the delusion that once in school I would make loads of friends and have an exciting and non-stop social life. Not only has this not been the case, but I've become even more of a hermit than usual.

I only make friends with unreliable people with low self esteem. Perhaps because they're kindred spirits, perhaps because if things fuck up I can't be blamed. Perhaps because it's easier to focus on their problems than mine. If I befriend someone healthy without loads of baggage, I assume that as soon as they discover all of mine, they will run screaming. Also, if we get in an argument, they have a lot more ammunition. This is probably a bad plan. Lots of people owe me money and I am constantly getting my heart broken.

A few days ago I msged Kristina on msn to talk. Why? What's wrong with me? Why can't I leave well enough alone? I should be glad to be done with someone like that. Instead of being happy to hear from me, and to be given a chance to redeem herself, she just seemed annoyed that I wouldn't leave her alone. I don't know why I can't get over this. It's been three years. After expressing annoyance she went on to say she had been going to therapy, and was talking about me a lot there. Apparently she's been realizing how much she fucked up, and then she apologized. She's never apologized, not with any amount of sincerity, anyway. I guess that's what I've been waiting for all along, just an apology. I don't know if it's made me feel any better, though.
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[05 Oct 2006|01:57am]
People keep thinking I'm a teenager. I don't know if this is good or bad. At least the wrinkles around my eyes that I've been obsessively staring at in the mirror aren't noticeable to anyone else yet. I hope people don't think I'm an idiot. Teenagers are usually idiots.

I started school at OCAD. I'm a month in and the novelty has mostly worn off, to be replaced with anxiety and stress (and procrastination). Not to mention, there are quite literally no attractive guys in any of my classes. The ratio of hot guys:hot girls is completely unbalanced. Not that that's IMPORTANT or why I'm in school or anything.....just saying. It's unfair. My biggest fear is realizing I don't actually have any talent and will end up working at a massage parlour or something. I don't really have a plan b.

A family of raccoons has figured out how to open my door and get through the cat door. They keep coming in and making a mess and eating my cats' food. As annoying as this is, for a while they stopped coming and I kind of missed them. They are very cute, especially the babies, and I always kind of want to go pet them. Considering what raccoons sound like when they fight (women being murdered), that is probably a bad idea.

My dad bought a MILL OUTSIDE BELLEVILLE with his girlfriend (who he's been dating FIVE MONTHS). Clearly he is going through some sort of post-mid-life-crisis. A MILL! With no plumbing or electricity! Or walls! Good luck to them sticking out the relationship when they have to go through god knows how long of renovation (in the winter). Not to mention, my dad hasn't even finished renovating the house he currently lives in. So now he has to speed finish this house so he can rent it out, at the same time driving 1.5 hours away to begin work on the mill. I think they are actually going to be living in this fucking building with no insulation and an outhouse. I don't even think he has a job. The whole thing seems like a really bad idea, but who am I to dash his dreams of "adventure". Also, apparently his girlfriend is going to have a yoga studio in one of the buildings, but who the fuck is going to use said studio? It is OUTSIDE Belleville. I don't know if you know where Belleville is but it's not exactly a booming metropolis itself. Another thing to worry about: whatever weirdo my dad rents out his apartment to. Where is he getting money to do all this? I just can't wait for him to die and leave me and my brother with a huge amount of credit card debt.
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[14 Mar 2006|02:01pm]
Hello again. After an average of 2 liters of diet pepsi every day for the last 11 years (and my dad constantly nagging at me about how bad it was for me) I thought I should probably quit and try drinking water and juice instead. I did, 4 days ago. I never believed anything anyone said about the evils of aspartame but am now giving it all a second thought as I am pretty sure I'm going through withdrawal. I haven't had any caffeine either, so I'm sure that doesn't help. I've been sleeping all the time. 14 hours a night. I'm lethargic, bored, indifferent, moody and hostile. Way more than usual. I hope this all subsides soon. I called in sick from work today as I feel so awful. I don't know if they will accept aspartame withdrawal as a reasonable excuse.
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[14 Nov 2005|04:15pm]
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I got new hair.
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[11 Nov 2005|02:03pm]
A gym opened at the bottom of my street. I went and signed up today. Look how fucking hilarious this place is : http://www.ladiesworkoutexpress.com/index_lwe.html
I don't think they have updated the logo or the decor since the late 80's. There was hot pink carpeting, purple walls, and even the equipment was pink and purple. Because that's what ladies like. Pink and purple. On everything. I am totally going to get pumped. In a non sexual sense.
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[10 Nov 2005|06:37pm]
Hi again. Last weekend I did this : http://www.personalgrowthcentre.com/Basic.htm
For the second time. It is not a cult. Apparently we need a minimum of 5 hugs a day to stay healthy. In real life, it's really hard to fill that quota. Some people get weirded out when you want to hug them. It was pretty hard not to laugh sometimes. Highlights: John Denver. Over and over. A 60+ person group hug, crying and singing along (poorly) to I Believe I Can Fly (and swaying to music). A guy named Dolphin who looked like a taller Bill Murray singing a duet with a small Hispanic man. Dolphin wore white jeans and a short top that exposed the ring of dolphins tattooed around his navel when he raised his arms. Dancing "crazy" to A New Attitude by Patti Labelle. At the time it was all less corny and hilarious than it is in retrospect. The next one is free and I actually highly recommend it to all.
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internet dating + bad tattoo = amazing! [01 Sep 2005|01:37am]
There's a show called e-love in Canada that follows (desperate, lonely) people as they (quickly) "fall in love" via the internet and then meet in real life for the first time. One of my favourite episodes featured one pathetic loser who thought he had met his soulmate after speaking for only a couple weeks online. BEFORE meeting in real life her he decided to GET HER NAME TATTOOED on him - I can only assume he thought this would impress her into sleeping with him. So she flew across the country to meet him, and needless to say, she realized what a total douche he was and dumped him on air. AMAZING!
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I am so indie. [10 Apr 2005|08:31pm]
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[10 Apr 2005|08:14pm]
Due to popular demand, I am back. I am a poor writer, though, and lead a monotonous life. So don't expect much. I tried to make art today (a birthday present for my dad). It's been a LONG time since my last attempt, and I haven't decided if it's any good yet. Probably not, but my dad will appreciate any crap I make for him. He has to. Either way, I felt a strange sense of self satisfaction (nice alliteration) after. When I'm not making art I feel useless. It was always the one thing I thought I had any talent in. My self doubt will be the death of me.

When seeing an ex for the first time since breaking up, it feels really good to make out with a guy hotter than him in front of him.
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[28 Apr 2004|11:05am]
I wish I didn't suck at writing. I have some important things to say. I had a dream where I died. I didn't even know you could actually die in dreams. Terrorists were blowing up Toronto and I could see the explosions coming towards me. There was a moment of realization before there was just nothing. That's all I remember. My dad keeps leaving his viagra around. I really could do withtout the hard evidence that he's having sex. Gross.
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[20 Apr 2004|07:03pm]
I went to the dentist this morning. I can't figure out why I always hated going so much when I was younger. It's really not a big deal. They used to always lecture me about flossing, etc, but I still never floss and do a half assed job of brushing and they never say anything. Maybe they see no reason to hassle me because I'm an "adult" now. At least no cavities and they didn't even make any stupid jokes about my piercings. When I had braces my orthodontist and her assistants would feel the need to make some lame comment about my piercings EVERY TIME i had an appointment. You would have thought they'd just get used to it, but no. Also my dentist is cute (and Jewish, I have a thing for Jews). This train of thought leads me something that has always bothered me. I hate when old people think they can say whatever they want to me because they're old and "deserve respect". They make rude comments about my piercings, or tattoos, or hair, or clothes, or whatever. Then they think it's acceptable because I'm "asking for it" because I chose to look "weird". Well maybe *I* don't like *THEIR* polyester shopping channel sweatsuit, or old lady smell because they've been using the same perfume for 30 years, or their weird draw on eyebrows, or their poofy perms that I can see their scalp through. But am I allowed to say anything to them about that? NOOO. Such an absurd double standard.
Last night Kavin gave me these jellybeans with flavours like vomit, booger, sardine, earwax. Which begs the question, who concocted these flavours? Who taste tested until they decided on the ideal "vomit" flavour? And who wanted to admit they knew what booger tastes like? Is this a real job? How can anyone take this person seriously?
"The Swan" is one of the most disturbing/depressing shows I've ever seen. But I still watch it.
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[12 Apr 2004|01:20pm]
My medusa piercing has gotton all fucked up out of nowhere, although I've had it 5 months with no previous problems. My upper lip is now swollen to comical proportions; I look like a duck. I'm sure American women pay lots of money to look like this, although they probably get their bottom lip done as well so that they're at least somewhat proportional. It seems my mouth-flesh (skin?)is trying to grow over the back of my piercing and it really really hurts. Regardless, I refuse to take it out - I'll just tough it out and hope it gets better.
I put a little tshirt on my cat. I took it off a teddy bear I got from Goodwill that has a button on each paw, and pressing one makes him "scratch" and the other makes him say "I'm hiphop teddy friend, tell me your first name!" so you comply and tell him your first name, and he says "tell me your first name!" and the same thing happens again, and you're starting to get frustrated, and then he says "see ya!". Fucking rude bastard. In any case, the tshirt is cool and says Hip Hop on it with some music notes; if it was my size I would certainly wear it. My cat is a thug, I should change his name to Muff. He's been wearing the shirt a week now and doesn't seem to be even attempting to take it off, I guess he really does like hip hop.
I painted my living room yellow and managed to get yellow paint everywhere. I really need to get one of those large wallpaper pictures that looks like a forest or a beach or something and people used to put them in their rec rooms. Where can I get one of those? I just realized that it's going to be garage sale season soon. I need to find someone with a car (or, even better, a van/truck) who would be willing to get up on saturday mornings to go with me.
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[08 Apr 2004|07:56am]
I woke up too early today. I'll pick out which suicidegirls I have non sexual crushes on (http://suicidegirls.com/girls/Aiki/). Maybe I should stop identifying myself as "bisexual" because the only times I've made out with girls I got bored and started thinking about how I need to do my dishes or something.

I realized I complain way too much. Today is I love Heidi day. I take that back. First I have to complain about how stupid I look when I smile :
This is why I don't smile in pictures. Not to mention I have NO SKIN PIGMENTATION apparently.

My cat is better than your cat.

Except for the fact he keeps pissing on my bathmat and my nose is stuffed up so I can't tell if the bathmat is wet with water or cat piss.
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[29 Mar 2004|11:58pm]
I think the novelty of livejournal wore off a long time ago. Everything interesting that happens to me are things I don't want everyone knowing, especially my brother, should he happen upon this page.
I feel like I've plateaued - I go to work, come home, watch tv, sleep, repeat. Sometimes I'll go out on the weekend and pretend like I'm socializing. Drugs aren't really an issue anymore - I'm very rarely tempted. Every time I've dealt with one issue, I'm disappointed to find life isn't perfect because I still have a million more. I really don't know what to do with myself. What am I supposed to DO?? It's hard to appreciate how far I've come in the past year when I compare myself to other people my age with thriving social lives, great jobs, degrees, a million hobbies, connections, have traveled everywhere, etc etc etc. I don't even know how to drive yet.
My boss is obsessed with weight - she talks about other people's constantly, about diets, who's lost weight, who's gained weight, etc. She's a very small chinese woman and has probably been small her whole life, so apparently she cannot fathom how this would be a sensitive issue for some people. She always mentions that I look like I've lost weight, which you'd think would be a compliment; however, she'll say things like "remember how big your belly used to be?" "you were very chubby before" "I'm glad you lost the weight, young girls should not be so big." When I told her that I found her comments more offensive than complimentary, she acted like it was my problem rather than hers. What if I gained the weight back? She pretty much told me I looked terrible when I weighed 15 lbs more. I don't know how my weight should be relevant to her at all.
Half of me thinks I'm being oversensitive but the other half knows I'm not.
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[07 Mar 2004|04:37pm]
Working 6 days a week is killing me. I slept 13 hours last night, so my Sunday has now been shot to hell. I really do not understand workaholics. I am an unworkaholic, or whatever the opposite of work is, a restaholic. My boss told me a nigger joke a couple days ago, I wasn't sure if I should laugh or not. What IS funny is that my conservative middle aged chinese boss is so clueless as to social mores she tells nigger jokes and says "the gays" and when she was told a butch girl was a girl she says to her face, "you're not really a girl, are you??".
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[01 Mar 2004|06:10pm]
There is a very specific playlist of songs I listen to when I am sad.
No Doubt - Don't Speak
Mazzy Star - Fade Into You
The Sundays - Wild Horses
Slowdive - the Souvlaki album
Fleetwood Mac - Landslide
Hayden - Bad As They Seem
Sarah Mclachlan - the Fumbling Towards Ecstacy album
Boards Of Canada - the Disengage album
This has remained the same with few exceptions for the past 4 years. It's almost comforting in its reliability. Ironic how when I'm sad I listen to music that makes me sadder. I also wonder how many people would cry if I died.
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