It's never enough for me

.............APPARENTLY MY MAKEOVER SKILLS JUST WEREN'T ENOUGH....

so, we've moved!

Check out: http://KateKavanaugh.com

That's right. My own domain.......... Leave comments... Tell me what you think of the new layout!!! I promise there will be more updating on this one.


KK.

Update: I was Wrong

I was wrong. Online dating could create a new genre of blog.

I just received this gem:

Dear Kate,

Your profile conveys that you possess immense inner and outer beauty with a special warmth and sweetness. I have been told that I possess some of these qualities. I really enjoyed your profile which is full of life and seeing the beautiful light that emanates from your being. As a personal interest, I studied Shiatsu over a 3 year period and enjoy making others feel better and taking away their pain. I enjoy music, theatre, live or otherwise, and being adventurous and spontaneous. Who knows maybe it is possible we could create a masterpiece together.
I appreciate your reply whatever it may be.
Take care and be well,
ICANTPUBLISHHISNAMEBCTHATWOULDBETOOMEAN....

---

So, now you're probably wondering what my profile said to elicit this.


It says that I like wings and beer and that I don't do threesomes......... actually.

KK.

We Had a Makeover!!

This is a temporary solution until I get a new website up and running. If anyone has any suggestions on the actual making of this supposed site for those of us that are less technically inclined, please let me know!

I think the pink is a little too much, no?


I'm sorry that I haven't been around a lot, but that's going to change.

1. I was offered a job and am in current negotiations regarding said job. It's my dreammmm job. I want it- I want it - I want it. Gimme Gimme Gimme.

Kate, how will gaining employment make you more dedicated up actually updating when you didn't do anything during your unemployed times...??

Well, blogger, I'm glad you asked. This job isn't the typical 9-5 business. I get to be all erratic and random, and sometimes even work from home. This means: More blog and possibly even re-writing and finishing my book. Yippee.

2. I signed up to an online dating site, because Robert was having such a hilarious time and getting so many dates (because he's gay, and there seems to be a disjunct in how one applies one concept to the gay world and the straight world) that I thought: "Gee.... Kate... You just got back from Europe, if there's any time that you have a decent excuse to be all online dating, it's now" So, I joined, and told myself that it would provide a really good inspiration for some blogging and writing.

I was right/wrong. So far my blackberry has been inundated with messages from said dating site, most of which contain a simple "hi"..... seriously. Did you just make me erase a message from my phone, go to my computer, look it up and log in, thus telling other users that I am around, just to see the word: "hi"? If a guy said that to my face, in a bar... I would walk away. Unless he handed me a martini at the same time.

There were a few interesting messages. One guy promised me a powerfree struggle in a relationship as he wanted an "alpha female".... I asked what made him think I was an alpha female. He never responded. Hilariously enough, I am. But, after Man Friend.... I like a little power struggle in a relationship.

And finally, the last straw, I received a message form a nice bloke who dropped that he was in the 911 industry (interesting, establishing an automatic trust by using a man in uniform, without any guarantee that he in fact, is one). Then he invited me to Germany AND Aruba.... on him. We all know that I like to be taken care of BUT........... skeettttchy.

Unless I'm wanting inspirtation for a serial killer series... I can't see how this online dating site is going to help me with this blog.

And that aside, I'm still dating J4. I mean, I don't do the whole exclusive thing unless it's super serious. And, I'm not ready for the super serious right now, henceforth I will not be doing the exclusive thing.... but still.... I think that since I have a real live person, I shouldn't be dabbling in the virtual side.

J4 has been good for me. I like having him around. He's the exact opposite of Man Friend. Where MF would fly off the handle for anything due to his experiencing extreme emotions, and intensity, J4 doesn't get fazed by anything..........annnything... really.

I get excited when he seems to get a little bit annoyed about something... because I've never seen him look happy, or sad, or mad. Never. And I've known him since kindergarten. Albeit, not well, but still....

Any suggestions on how I can illicit an emotion from him? Because, yes, I seem to think that it's appropriate to try to poke and prode someone until they exhibit an extreme emotion....when what I supposedly like about him is his lack there of.

Freud, can you hear me?


KK.

Siting Beside a Half Empty Magnum of Wine..

Setting: @ Roberts* desk in velcro rollers and his sweater...

I stayed at Roberts place for the weekend, where nothing of serious importance went down... just the way I like it. This morning he hurried off to work while I stayed Pj'd up with intentions of the in-building gym and pool bouncing in my head.

Then the Cop called.

I dated him briefly before I moved to Europe... and by briefly, I mean that I informed him that I was moving half way across the world on our third date, 5 days before I left.**

He has court downtown today so we're meeting for lunch. He actually called to see what I was doing tonight, as in after 10 pm when his baseball game is over.... Ummmm......No. So, I suggested lunch and he caved and now we're doing beer and wings.

1. He clearly hasn't read "The Game" -- My new obsession ... I like to see what guys use tricks from this little playa playa manual. He does not seeing as he immediately a) gave me the power of decision making and b) agreed to the all time least romantic date time of lunch.

2. No man.... I repeat, No Man can resist the lure of beer and wings on their day off.

So, that should be fun.

Except that my blackberry died, and as it turns out, the text messages that I sent him with the home number to where I am didn't go through.

Let's see if he some how gets in touch with me .... Smoke signals perhaps?***

So, that means that the biggest conundrum of my day is: Black sexy boots or brown casual boots?

....... How to choose.....

KK.



* Robert is my gay other half. Soon to be roommate.
** Bitch move, yes.
*** email may be more practical....

The Only Romantic Love is that which is Unfulfilled....

I miss Man Friend. Like a lot.


I woke up this morning at 7 am and turned on the TV, because really....what else do I have to do? I watched Out Of Africa. It's about a Danish Baroness and this American chap (Robert Redford) and she loves him but she's married and he's so independent. When she finally gets a divorce, he tells her that he can't really be there to just be with her... he loves her but he needs freedom. Then he admits that he wants her around, and promptly dies.

The entire movie was pretty irrelevant to my relationship with Man Friend... I mean, I didn't sit by the fire begging him to not go on Safari. And I never would. I'd ask for a rifle that fits me and ask what time we were leaving in the morning... but still. Something about a sappy love story from Africa made me curl up in my bed and shut the curtains till 9 am.... when I finally talked myself into getting out of bed and trying on an old vintage dress that I've never worn*.

And now I'm back in bed.

And I think that I'll stay here. Maybe apply for a few jobs......... seeing as I'm still unemployed**


KK.

*Not a safari dress............ more 1950s with a lace overlay......
**I DID have an interview yesterday...perhaps I will write about it when I'm more inspired to be less boring.

Voting Day

............My most favorite of all of the holidays.

Wait........ it's not a holiday?

Then why wasn't I at work today?

Oh that's right... it's because I'm still unemployed.

Awesome.

Anyway, today is the Canadian voting day, and right after I finish my cocktail, I'm going to walk up to my old elementary school (which my parents still live around the corner from) and vote for BARAK OBAMA...

........Wait.........What do you mean he's not running in the Canadian election?!

I LIVE in Canada, and I've definitely seen him on TV more than any of the other candidates in the last 37 days.......

Oh.... I understand, that's just because we care more about the American election than our own. No worries.

So, now I have a conundrum. If Obama is out, then who should I vote for?

Stephen Harper... leader of the conservatives. I think he's a total douche and his social policy makes me want to cry for the last 50 years of social progress that we've made. His economic policy is tempting to anyone who makes over 100 G's a year. I'm unemployed. He's the only one that has a fighting chance at guaranteeing Canadians Arctic Sovereignty... which I feel strongly about.....sooo there's a plus for him....a very small plus that is greatly over shadowed by his comparing gay marriage to beasiality. The MP in my area for his party....well... I don't know her but she lost to Belinda Stronach a lotta years ago and...........well..........old rivalries die hard.
*love you Belinda*

Stephen Dion: Leader of the Liberals. I love the libs. Dion makes me want to cry for the state of our party. His social policy and economic policy revolvs around Green Party policy which makes me ask: HEY.... if we have a party dedicated to this, and they've only ever gotten one chair in our parliment then maybe Canadians aren't so hot on the idea.....DUH.
The MP running in the area: Love him. But I can't stand his boss.... tough call.

Jack Layton......... I am not on welfare nor am I barefoot and pregnant, so I will not be voting for him.

Green Party. I hate to say it.... and Jayz loves to hear it BUT....... I might just have to vote for them. I care about the environment, and I don't consider it a wasted vote to exercise our parliment in the pluralist fashion in which it was born.
I do not feel that a major party like the liberals should have a Green Shift platform at this time, despite my concern for the environment....and I think that voting for the green party sends a message: I care about trees, but I don't want my prime minister to be hugging them.... Dear Dion: Get a grip.


No?

Yes?

I don't think many people will agree with me.

Ofcourse, I wont know exactly what it is that I will do until I get to the polls. So, because of my conundrum.... I will be drinking a few pommegranite martinis, and then making my way up there, where I will fight with an important desicion that effects my country's future, while suprressing horrible memories of elemntary school and that butchy soft ball playing girl that used to taunt me for liking Barbies after I was 10 years old.

Bitch.


KK.

To Guda!

Today was a glorious, glorious day. Not because it was the Canadian thanksgiving, not because we had mounds of food and not because I got to throw twin brother an impromptu graduation party.

No.

Today was glorious because it was the much anticipated seasons premiere of Samantha Who?.

Christina applegate slays me. Mostly because I act like her recently out of comatose character on a daily basis and I don't have amnesia....

Awkward.

Jenna came over for the festivity and much cranberry wine was had. So much, in fact, that I almost split a spleen laughing at the movie She's the man, with Amanda Bynes (who also slays me).

What did I find so funny, you ask? Well! On an awkward first date scene, the hot man meat that is the lead actor asks his date if she likes cheese.

Really.

This happened to me on an awkward and horrible first date with a swiss banker in zurich.

Honestly, he asked me if I liked cheese. Like as a conversation starter: "So.... do you like cheese?"

What?

I still tell this story at parties, because I'm a bitch, and I always follow it up with: "man! I couldn't make this up if I tried..."

But apparently the writers of Disney movies can............ Which I found, and still find, unusually hi-lar-i-ous!!!

Poor jenna.

KK.
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network

Did I Ever Tell You About the Time My Mother Sent My Brother To Boy Scouts with Three Joints?

Today, a man wearing khaki shorts and a navy blue polo shirt jogged past me with a shitzu dog in tow...



............welcome to Suburbia.

Wow... That Just Made Me Want HomeFries REALLY Bad...

Today I did something really, really indicative of myself.

I set up a new clothing rack to fit all of my wardrobe until the imminent move to the city and out of the parental housing unit.

Some people have external hard drives.... I have an external closet.

I also spent some time getting re acquainted with my shoe collection, half of which was left in North America while I gallivanted around Europe for 9 months*...
Specifically a Steve Madden wedge with black ankle ties which I have YET to wear EVER.... Here's hoping that they are still in season next summer...

I really do come off as a ditsy girl sometimes, don't I?

I wonder if it were a man who had varied interests, such as politics, economics, international relations and what not, were to talk at random about cars and the rebuilding of a 1967 mustang convertible.... would he then be taken for a muscle car dumb jock?

Bringing me to my next topic: Feminism.

Recently (read, yesterday), I was chatting with a friend about a possible job opening in her company.** She works for a not for profit community centered organization that holds the mandate of female, specifically young girl, empowerment and cultivation through leadership and role models.

In discussion, I dropped the word: feminism.

OH. MY. GOD. You would have think I said something praising about Hitler by her reaction. "We Are NOT feminists," she shouted.

"Do you not stand for the empowerment of young girls and women alike?"

"Yes. But NEVER use the word 'feminist' when describing us."

Let's take a second and talk about this, shall we? WHAT. The. Hell. I used to teach a first year University class, in which I would always ask one question to start things off: "Who here is a feminist?"

No one...maybe one...raised their hands.

"What if I told you that siplified, feminism is the idea that women have the right to vote, they are considered a person, and they have the rights over their own body as a person would? What then? Oh and boys? You can be feminists too.... you know, if you have a sister, female friend, mother, aunt, wife that you feel might be entitled to these rights"

Everyone, almost, would then raise their hand.

Now, I agree that in the present context of political ideology and speak, there is a disjunct between rhetoric of feminist equality ideals and the scary bull dyke blaming man for global warming while burning her bra with a butane torch.... but come ON.

How did this word get so scary to us? To WOMEN? So sacry that we aren't to repeat it to our daughters, our children, our employers or our female colleagues?

When did my desire to actually be paid the same amount in the work place as a male counterpart, which we are still NOT in Canada (a developed nation), become a "difference of opinion on the meaning of a word"?

When did my vehement and passionate response to prostitution being the only profession that a lower class woman can stumble into, in south east asian countries, and sometimes even my own, become a condemnation?

When did my absolute disgust that women are still overlooked in ALL United Nation Charters and the institution itself; And the fact that women have a higher rate of HIV and AIDs world wide, while being ignored, become a point that I should avoid or hush up about during an interview for an organization that is meant to be showing girls how to step up and speak out?

When? And where the hell was I when this happened?

And I would love to say that this is my opinion, and as such others are entitled to their own....but that's just ludicrous. I'm totally right here. And for my friend to say that we simply have a difference of opinion about it made me so mad that I don't even want to take that part time job.... and I wont. I can't work for an organization that endorses hypocritical and condescening, uneducated views like that.



For futher reading.........

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feminism


KK.




* Heels and cobblestone are a messy messy combo
** All conversations that I have these days lead to the potentiality of employment....

Hey Nelson! Your Mickey Mouse is Missing An Ear!!

I had my first job interview, and I just have to tell you alllllll about it.

As you know, I am a sorry excuse for a double degree University Grad, who is currently living at home with her family. Her dysfunctional, dysfunctional family. (Hi Mom. Love you.)

I desperately need a job. Any job. OK, OK, I've only been home from Europe for a week and a half...so I'm not taking just any job at this point..... but you need to feel some sense of urgency and desperation in my writing just so that you understand, just a little, the sheer importance of my prospective employment.

So, there I was on www.craigslist.org....

Sketchiness #1: Craigslist is easily the worst place to find legitimate employment (unless you're looking to be legitimately employed in the sex slave trade) when I come across this marketing position which talks about its commercial and not for profit base.

Interesting, I think to myself.

I google the name attached to the provided email and come up with a website for a Marketing Consulting Firm.

Sketchiness #2: The website lacks things that a legitimate marketing firm has.... like 1. A detailed explanation of what exactly their services are, 2. A client list or an area of specialty, 3. The WORST COMPANY NAME KNOWN TO MAN..... let me just say this: Were I to have taken this job, I would have often been found in my car singing to myself: "La la la...going to work at Sucks ASS" and been incredibly close to the actual company name.

I applied in the morning. Had a phone call in the afternoon. Had a job interview the following day.

The next day, with two friends in tow, I pull up to the interview site where I see about 15-20 university aged kids piling out of the building, in which my interview is about to take place in 20 minutes. They have name tags and clip boards and I start to freak out.

I do not do group interviews. I'm almost 25. I have two degrees. I am not applying to be a camp counsellor.

Sketchiness #3: Office is located next to a parole office.

So I carefully, and verbally contemplate ignoring the whole damn thing. I call my mother and she concurs that if there's a bad gut feeling about a thrice sketchy job interview, just don't go.

Naturally, she was more concerned with a gut instinct that i might be killed and my kidneys would be sold on the black market.... where as I was more concerned that I would be applying for a job that wont be able to support my shoe habit, and offered me rice krispy squares as my mid-afternoon snack while I was forced to sing Johny Appleseed.

So, I go in.

Sketchiness #4: The office is an empty space with white walls, a grey carpet and has 3/4 doors shut. There are 8 waiting chars lining the main room, and a reception kiosk type thing that looks like it has just been left there, with a slightly snazzy LCD flat screen suspended on the wall.

Sketchiness #5: The receptionist starts asking me how I got my job in Europe and what websites she could use to look into it.

Sketchiness #6: My interviewer looks like Howie Mandel.

So, Howie invites me in to his office after making me fill out some type of questionnaire.

Did I mention that I (my mother) bought me a new suit for this?????

Howie has a desk, a book shelf, three plush chairs and some frames on the wall from IKEA circa 07.

Sketchiness #7: Howie is the President of the company, yet does not own a computer.

Howie is not a dull knife...he ZERO'd in on my health background and immediately started talking about his not for profit clients.

You know those people at the mall? The ones who stand at a booth and ask you to donate to WORLD VISION? He wanted me to do that. Of course, he wanted me to do that with the possibility of becoming a manager in 6 months..... which I guess means that I get to be the one to schedule the mall set ups.... ya right.

Sketchiness #8: Howie pretty much locked me in his office until I agreed to start work on Wednesday.

He's just one of those shmarmey sales people that doesn't give you the room to say No, so while you're walking away with regret, he's laughing because he's got your money. I prefer to make people believe in what I'm selling them, and have them walk away knowing that they bought something good, excited to use it.

So, I agreed.

And then I called the next day and quit.

That's right kids, I was employed for 24 hours.... without pay.

Thank god for the Canadian Thanksgiving, which will provide enough familial drama to keep me distracted from my lowly social status ....

KK.

Oh How the Wars Blunder On

Update on wars:

First front avec Phone Company:

Status: won
Booty of war: $600 refund and a free blackberry


Second Front avec le Metro Police in Paris:

Status: On going.
Strategy: tickets, fines and perfect flawless french translation of what happened (thanks to Sofia) awaiting mailing on the hall table.


Third Front avec the Travel Insurance Company Re: phone and Camera...

Status: I forgot about this.
Strategy: Get on it.


KK

What to Write..What to Write

Well I've been back in the country for what? 6 days.... And it's all gone to hell in a hand basket.

I've already made out with someone that I used to date....which, I believe made him think that we were going to date once again. Which I suppose is actually true since I agreed to go out for dinner tonight..... hmmm... perhaps he has a point.

But I'm just not in a good headspace for anything right now, I need to get all of my little duckies lined up in a row... You know?

Oh faithful blog.... I know that you know

Then I accidentally kissed a guy (back) that I used to go to college with*...... Something I never wanted to do because, quite frankly, he's too much like me. He doesn't do relationships either... which might make you think that we'd work well, but with my penchant for wanting what I can't have and what not, it's better to just avoid that situation since I know how unwavering I can be, and therefore how unwavering he can be. Besides, I'm pretty sure that he'd make out with just about anyone....so.......


Speaking of people that will just make out with anyone, also at my coming home party was a guy that I went on like one date with like 2 years ago. And he brought a friend. For me. Nice gesture, I suppose. His friend hit on me, hit on my friend J, and then hit on all of my other friends the next night at Girls night, which they crashed........ special. And then people wonder why I don't call or text? Uhhhh............der?

I'm simply not interested in being the correct answer on a multiple choice quiz.... I'm an essay question! One right answer....and it's a doooooozey.

I'm so man hating right now. If I had myspace my mood would be Man Hating.

KK.

* The alleged kissing may have happened at 4 am, at his house, in his bed when I was accidentally locked out of my friends apartment for the night....... and I definitely remedied the situation by immediately falling asleep and sneaking out really early in the morning before he woke up. The firemen that work across the street from him clearly think that I'm a whore. Nice.

The dust has settled....

And the winner is...............ME!!!!!!!
they credited me ALL charges!!!!! And a free Blackberry.......... WHAT.

Only 12 hrs on the phone and half my sanity invested.....


sahweeeeeeeeeeeet

....But you Say He jusT A friend

So, where was I?

Oh yes... my cell phone company is one giant douche.

Here is an excerpt from yesterday's conversation.... which I am AGAIN writing to you while on hold with them...


Me: Well you see Sir, while there are legitimate charges, I'm more concerned with the ones that aren't since my phone has been dialing out BOTH random numbers and recalling numbers from my contact list.

Patronizing Customer Service Douche: Well, I suppose that I could give you the benefit of the doubt and erase these charges to numbers such a 99-999-99-99....

Me: Benefit of the doubt?

Patronizing C.S.D.: Well... I don't know... they could be numbers in Italy for all I know....


Me: Well Sir, I can assure you that they aren't. I have never heard of a country code, a city code and a phone number all being comprised of the same digit.....

P.C.S.D: Well before I erase those charges perhaps we can arrange a payment

Me (realizing that he is holding the prospect of erasing charges that are totally illegitimate int he first place hostage until I agree to his demands): Sir, paying the bill is not the problem.... the problem, is that there are a great number of illegitimate charges for which I refuse to pay. I think that you can see the problem, when I come home from almost a year in Europe to a huge phone bill and no service.......Especially when I pay hundreds of dollars a month in phone bills (I do... I pay like 300 a month when I live here....seriously)

P.C.S.D: Well we did text msg you to let you know of the suspension...

Me: Yea, you mean the text messages that you then CHARGE me for? And, Ya I would have been alerted if the hardware you sold me wasn't defunct and I could receive and read text messages on my screen.....

P.C.S.D: I don't know what to tell you.... we value you as a customer.

Me: I'm going to swing by the telus store today, just so you know.

P.C.S.D: Uhhhhhhhh.....


Seriously, this is the bullshit that I'm dealing with. the only helpful person was a tech support, whom I was instructed to call despite the fact that my phone is useless...and she simply explained that everyone else is a douche and that the software sometimes does this..... and she can't do anything to help because her job is to troubleshoot hardware, not software.

OK OK so she didn't use those words.... but that's my interpretation.

I'll keep you updated.

KK.

UPDATE: They apologize for my continuing to remain on hold, and their next customer service Representative will be happy to help me.......


uh huh

What Choo Want...Baby I got It

I'm back in the great White North...as evidence, Mother Nature sent me some lovely frost this morning... oh to be back in bed.

Let's just clear a few things up, so as to appropriately preface my cynicism for everyone.

I move home after about a year of living and working in Europe. I knew that my contract was expiring so, it wasn't unexpected. But now....

....I'm unemployed, and living with my parents and my brother. I've only been in this pathetic state for 35 hours and I want to stab myself with a butter knife.

I've already sent out emails to old bosses and jobs that I really thought that I would never want to return to. I just want an apartment of my own........and possibly to have my phone reconnected... too much to ask?

Apparently.

Furthermore, I hate my cell phone company because they are being totally asinine........ I had thought of waiting to spew this story, but since I am , again, sitting on hold with them and they seem to be experiencing a larger volume of calls than usual... I may as well write about it now.


I kept my North American cell phone while in Europe, because I love it and I'm addicted to it. I stripped it of excess accessories like daytime minutes because I was only going to use it in extreme emergencies... and so I did, as I had a Swiss cell phone anyway.

I had used it a few times and was totally on top of payments until about August. Finally, I look at it, which I don't do often because it sits nicely on my dresser because I don't need it, right?

Well all of a sudden, the LCD is cracked.

How the hell did that happen????

Then it turns out that it's been randomly dialing out numbers............. AT 2 DOLLAR A MINUTE ROAMING FEES.

I do not deny that I've used it.... but rarely. like 10 times in the last 9 months........... So WHAT THE HELL.

Finally, I get in touch with this "customer service representative" who is easily the MOST patronizing person EVER....

Man, i understand that your job sucks but really... REALLy.....

OK, i have to run, I'm sorry kids. I'll finish this story up this afternoon....

Do you mind?

Of course you don't!

KK

Overheard on the Plane

Annoying Hippie couple getting drunk to other hippie: Oh.... we're artists too. What kind of scultping do you do? Marble? Clay? Wire?


Other Annoying Hippie: Paper Mache.

Update Pt. 2

I felt that this was too funny not to share.

This is the email to my mother, MammaKav.... regarding my airport pick up time...


To:MammaKav@yaright.com
From: KateKavnaughwrites@gmail.com

hey it's your darling daughter...........
I'll be arriving at 2 05 pm, your time tomorrow.
I like roses, but a welcome home bouquet of any type of flower will suffice.... I suppose. Except for carnations, what a hideous flower*...And please, this time... try to keep the banners to a minnimum. Nothing flashy or glittering... it's so embarassing.**I also accept diamonds as a welcome home present... as well as cash, cheque or money order...(just so you know)***

Also, I met this awesome troupe of happy people in the airport today while showing H. off..... I'm going to bring them home with me. They were dressed as indians and singing and dancing..... Hare Krishna.... heard of them? Please make up 5 extra beds for my new friends.... (joking).****
Can't WAIT to see you!!! The weather in Paris is gorgeous but I am SOO sick of dealing with their police officers.... long story, I'll tell you in the car. (no, I was not arrested)*****
Love you Muchos.
K.

* The last time my parents got me flowers was my fifth grade play, Bye Bye Birdie. I have since gone to Europe twice and graduated two university degrees..... so this is unlikely
** Banners..... Slightly more unlikely than the flowers. Banners with glitter.... slightly more unlikely than hell freezing over.
*** If flowers and banners are unlikely..... then really.... must I make another analogy? I think not.
**** I think that this was her second biggest fear... me joining a cult. The first being me running off and getting married. Priorities.
***** Please see the third post from this one for further details

Last Day in Paris

Today is my last full day in Paris. I love this city. Even their Police men. I wish I had more time to write, and perhaps I will find that time in the airport tomorrow in the early hours of the morning, but until then you will have to suffice with a small update.

UPDATE:

1. Complaint filed with the Metro people. It looks like I miiiiight just win this war. Cross your fingures for me. I will, however, have to keep batteling from my homeland. Which I will.

2. I will also keep battleing with my travel insurance company over the fate of my North American Cell phone and Camera which were broken enroute to Florence*

3. The third front continues between me and my North American Phone company who feel that I owe them 600 DOLLARS....... Ya. Right. It's not my fault that their shitty phone call out bound, and I am unaware because the LCD cracked.... which is also not my fault, seeing as it has sat either on a table or in a protected case for the past 7 months.

* It's a complete lie. My phone did not break en route to Florence..... I'm jsut claiming it because it DID break on my travels, although I have no idea how and I paid them a rediculous amount of money, and they have stupid rules like claiming within 24 hours... so I just claimed it as the same time as my camera.

This three front war is going to leave me exhausted and more cynical that I started, which is a shame.... because I need to start interviewing for jobs and what not.

In other news, H. and I had a lovely meal last night for our last official night in Paris together... she left this morning. I admitted that I have already started to miss ManFriend, in a sad and pathetique (on my side) and unexpected turn of events. I wonder if he misses me too... I wonder this because I am female and it is an innate and expected currisosity, No?

It's so strange to have someone go from being such a large part of your life to being almost non-existant.... which is what distance and a broken cell phone do to you.....

After I bored her with that conversation long enough, we talked about our pathetic lack of prospects back in the big Canada. There are none. Zip. Ziltch. Notta.

So, back to blogging about politics and unemployment for me..... You think I was bitter before? Baby, you ain't seen nothing yet....

K.

P.S. Spell check does not work for whatever reason... so you all get to see what a truly and incredibly crap speller I am...... Je suis Desole.

Dear Paris... Love you... Love your ambience... Love your Style... Hate your Metro Police

I am absolutely enraged, which is generally the only reason that I would be sitting in the business centre of a hotel, at 1 am writing on my blog instead of in my comfy comfy king size bed.

The complimentary slippers are a slight consolation though.

Tonight was girls night out in Paris. H. and I met up with a friend of mine from Switzerland... well, she's actually an American in Switzerland, now transplanted to Paris... We shall name her.... American Transplant.* So, H. and I met up with American Transplant and one of her friends right downtown at a beautiful spot overlooking the Eiffle Tower for some drinks and then dinner.

Drinks were had** and food was enjoyed, as were the company and conversation. I always enjoy being around American Transplant... she's one of the most grounded and sensible people I know that still manages to get every last drop out of life. It's rejuvinating.***

We decide to go on to the lively Latin Quarter to show H. the sights and sounds of the city. I was also excited because while I have been in Paris often, and often claim that it feeds my soul (in a slighty melodramatic way)... I've never been able to see the arts and festivities that the Latin Quarter is so famous for.

We get to the Metro stop and start souring for metro ticket vendors. There are none at this particular stop, so American Transplant and her equally petite friend go in together. Luckily, H. and I have our own extra tickets, because being giants and all... we would have a tough time fitting through together.

Now here's the obnoxious part. American Transplant & Co. get stopped by the Metro Police. OK...OK.... I mean, there were no ...and I mean NO obvious vending points, so clearly they were supposed to walk to the next Metro stop to get the appropriate ticketage... Sure, whatever.... but THEN....

Then as I'm walking through my ticket doesn't work. My bad, they all look the same to me, and I don't just throw them on the gournd, once used, like everyone else because I've been swiss-if-ied... so I ask H. to pass me another one from my purse, since we bought like a thousand. I play a game of trial and error with the machine, and finally I win and it lets me through.

My prize, you ask?

A 50 Euro fine from the ticket agent. Why? Because apparently I used an old ticket.

Umm. No. I didn't. I used a new ticket. Which is why he was able to fine me on the other side of the gate, because it let me through. Because it was a new ticket. Because you can't reuse old ones.****

Now, you see I had the great misfortune of being raised by several strong Irish women. If I'm wrong, I'll take my lumps, but if I'm right... I'm right, and you'll take yours.

So I may have yelled and made a small scene, which he quickly ushered to the side. He threatened to call the police, and it was CLEAR that I was contemplating it. But, at the end of the day, I wanted to get on with our night. American Transplant fronted me the cash, since at this point I'm all MasterCard or bust.

Naturally, I left him with the ominous threat of submitting a complaint and asking for his badge number. Once back at the hotel, I spoke to the concierge. He told me that I should have had the police come and that those silly little Metro Rent-A-Cops are known for harassing tourists and that they give all french people a bad name.

Honestly, I wouldn't go thhhat far... but it clearly could have been all settled if he has just LISTENED to me. But he didn't, so tomorrow I go to the police Dept to file a complaint. I will get you Mr. Badge number 5143*****.... I will get you.

I am, however, happy to report that the Latin Quarter did not disappoint. Besides the fire throwing Gypsies by Notre Dame, my favorite would have to be the 8 piece band of random rag tag boys....... two trombones, two drums, 1 clarinet, 1 trumpet, a sax and a TUBA! Not only did they play, but they danced as they played.... The talent abounded and we ended up watching them for like 5 songs because it was just THAT hard to walk away. It's kind of like one of them rolled out of bed and said "Shit, I got stuck playing the trombone in the highschool band.... easily the least sexy instrument....what am I going to do..." So he called the guy with the Tuba (the only guy in the band with worse sexy-insturment troubles than him) and they decided to start a busking group. And I thank God that they did. Made my night.

Well, I hope that this post was less confused and messy like the last 5... travelling just kills my focus. You understand, right?
No, of course you don't.
I'll do better next week. I swear.

KK.

*If you'd prefer, I can go back and rename you Princess Devine...?
** Kirch Chamapagne.... cherry cream champanage... Ammmmazing.
*** I'm not just sucking up because she reads my blog and I'm staying at her house in a few nights...I swear
**** I recognize the ciruclar logic here, but he clearly couln't understand me so I just wanted to doubley make sure everyone else did.
***** NOT his real badge number...

Back Under the Tuscan Sun

I love Tuscany! Just love it. I was born to live and breath the Tuscan air.

People are already giving me the death stare for being on the computer for so long.... but I have been so hungover all day that this is a massive accomplishment to even make it this far... So they can bite me.

Plus, we're leaving as soon as H. gets back from her solo bike tour. I don't share roadways with Italian drivers....


Yesterday, H. and I found a little restaurant in this side alley and quickly struck up a friendship with our waitor.... also, the owner as it turned out. We mentioned that we wanted to go to a vineyard and do a wine tasting thing.... so instead of mentioning that he, in fact owns a vineyard.... he invites us back to the restaurant that evening to go through the wine cellar and have a tasting of our own.

What he meant was.... come to my retaurant, eat dinner, and I will just keep opening bottles of my own wine from my own vineyard and putting them on the table. OK.

Next thing we know, it's just us and the owner, E., a few servers, and a buyer for gucci from Japan* left in the restaurant. 6 people walk in and suddenly everyone is lively and preparing. These 6 people are apparently a big deal. BIG.

Turns out they are Italian movie stars. I still have no idea who they are or in what they performed, and to be honest, I don't really care. But it was cool none the less. After they left, we all headed to the Irish pub.

If 5 bottles of wine wasn't the first mistake, then having a guiness after WAS.

H. was sleepy so I took her back home, but E. The restaurant owner was all insitant on taking me up to some piazza. H. didn't think that it was a good idea.

I don't seem to see the problem with jumping on the back of a vespa, driven by a man I don't know and going to an unknown location in a forgien country.... So, I did what any girl would do in my situation, I lied to H. and told her I wasn't going and once she was in bed, I strapped on a helmet and ran out the door.

Turns out I'll take you this romantic piazza is double speak for: lets go back to the restaurant.

He gave me a tour of the kitchen.... because I don't care.... and then took me to the wine cellar. OK, I may have been drunk and made several bad decisions up until this point but I think we can all agree that E. had a little wine cellar nookie in mind.

I did not.

He tired to kiss me.... and I mean tried because I don't conisder a tounge jetting out at you anything more than a mere attempt.

In life I have found that the easiest way to get control of a situation is to act like you already have it. So, I took a step back, turned around and grabbed two bottles of wine from his cellar.... and then said: 'Yes, these two will do lovely as presents.... Thanks a lot!' And I put on my helmet and walked to the door.

It was a risky move.... but it worked. I don't recomend trying it at home kids.

I was back at my hostel (Academy in Florence...best hostel ever) within 20 minutes and on the phone with Man Friend as he left for work and I went to bed.


* I totally checked his labels.... like while he was still wearing his clothes. Nothing spectacular.



Disclaimer: Although I did something rediculously stupid, if you want blog priveledges, you can not lecture me ..... Mom.