Ninja Cat

I found this funny YouTube video and thought I'd share.... my cat could never be so stealth like... check it out: Ninja Cat

BC Fashion Week

I attended the gala opening of BC Fashion Week last night at the Chinese Cultural Centre in Chinatown. The runway show opened last night with local designer RozeMerie Cuevas' tribute to the 70's with boho chic dresses, cropped halter tops, jumpers and wide bottom pants for her new Spring 2009 Jacqueline Conior line. As always, the fabrics and designs were very feminine and beautiful. Also back by popular demand, RozeMerie designed some fabulously feminine and figure flattering suits for likes of the working professional women.



I'm sure the first thing that comes to mind before you attend a shin-dig like this is, "what am I going to wear?". It's funny because it seems every one's idea about what is fashionable is just so very different. There were women wearing very odd outfits in an attempt to be "haute-couture" I suppose. I saw all kinds last night. There was even one women dressed in serious 80's clothes. At first I thought it was a joke but it was not. She came styled in a crimped coif with teased power bangs and everything. For a moment I thought it was Fast-times at Ridgemont High. I guess not everyone can be a fashionista.


Other than the beautiful clothing at the show, the opportunity to sneak a glimpse into the world and culture of fashion is interesting to say the least. I have been a couple of these shows in past and well, I'm not sure if I'm suited to mingle among the likes of fashion divas and the superficial "I'm too chic for my sneaks" crowd. My sentiments were confirmed as we were escorted to the VIP area where we were amongst the who's who in Vancouver's fashion scene. Some were arrogant and there were others who just seem insincere. Not to say everyone was like that but there were a good handful. For me, it's nice to see the designs and experience a good fashion show, but I could do without the snobbery and the sense of elitism. I just don't roll like that. But on a positive note, I did manage to get some great photos. I'm going to try and add a slideshow feature to this blog so I don't have to upload 100+ photos on this particular post.

** Here's a link to an article on Vancouver.com where my photos are referenced: http://www.vancouver.com/get_article?article_id=144

WTF?

Who ever had this stamp made is a fucking genius! I want one!

Anyone who has ever worked in an office has probably dealt with some paperwork at some point or another. I know in my job, there is a lot of paperwork and I KNOW that is stamp would have been so very helpful in some jobs I have had in past.

I can see how this stamp would be very helpful for teachers as well. You get a student that submits homework that is a total piece of shit and you can send it back with this stamp. It's so much better than grading it as a "C-", "D" or even an "F". I love it. I think it would send a very clear message to the student that his/her effort (or lack there of) was complete crap and basically ungrade-able.

This stamp is so versatile that you could literally use it every day. Like when you are eating out and the bill comes and it's completely wrong. You call the server back and hand him/her the bill with the stamp.

I think I'm going to get myself one right NOW!

Purging My Life

Today was a day of purging. I'm still on a quest to rid of things I don't need. I'm not quite there yet but I'm getting there.

3 more bags of clothes and crap that I've kept for years and I have no idea why I had these things.

I don't even want to own that much furniture. Maybe it's just pure laziness. I simply don't want to move a lot of crap around. I hate moving as it is. Why make my life harder than it already is? Right? I mean really, how many t-shirts does one person really need? Shoes? Well shoes are different. I think a person can't have too many shoes. Call me Imelda but I thinks shoes can tell you a lot about a person. Shoes are a reflection of someone's personality.Old, worn and beat up shoes can tell you that a person is a) too lazy to go get new shoes, b) too cheap to get new shoes or c) maybe they are a little bit of are both.

My sister owns a hell of a lot of Aerosole shoes. They are somewhat stylish and, according to her, very comfortable. To me, her shoes tell me that her lifestyle revolves around comfort. That's the same reason she refuses to wear bras. They are too uncomfortable. If she feels any discomfort in her life, she is snappy, impatient and an all around super beeatch.

Even with all the purging I've been doing, I still have too much crap. I'm going to have to purge again tomorrow.

8 more days and I'm going to be in my new home. After almost a year of couch surfing, I have a new lease on life and it's friggin' GREAT.

A Culture of Impatience - I am an Impatient Asshole

Since being exactly 9 days into my new job at a media/technology company I’ve been thinking a lot about technology but more the pace of it. But before I start this “rant” of sorts, I’m going to bring you into Nancy’s thought process…

… at lunch today I had to run a handful of errands. I had to go to the bank, get a prophylactic (aka – phone condom or protective casing) for my iPhone, pick-up tickets and get some food for my gullet (which is uber important because I turn into a raging savage when I’m hungry – also known as a “Super Beeatch”). So I had a crap load of things to do in the time frame of 60 minutes or less.

I first head to the bank. There is a HUGE, motherf*cking lineup. I normally bank via the interwebs or via bank machine but my card is on the frits and I needed to talk to a real person to fix it. I wait for about five, maybe ten minutes. I think to myself, “I can’t waste my time waiting in this ridiculousness. Why on earth would a bank have only two tellers working during one of the busiest times??? - I will never know. And why banks charge a “service charge” for this kind of crap is beyond me.” I guesstimated it would take me over an hour to finally get some help. I look at the time and I leave. Time’s a tickin’…

I head over to the Apple store and check out a bunch of iPhone prophylactics. Some are nice but way too expensive for a piece of plastic or silicon. I debate whether I should by one. I quickly think about getting one for cheap at the Night Market or at some cell phone accessory kiosk. I then think, “shit Nancy you don’t have time to run around to do that! You’ll probably drop your phone and smash it to smithereens beforehand.” So I fork up the cash to buy what I think is very expensive hunk of plastic. I’m a sucker.

I now run to the Ticketmaster booth which happens to be in the food fair. I am hungry and getting grouchy. There are two people waiting in front of me. I look at the time and see that I only have 17 minutes before I have to get back to the office. I see the lady being helped is signing for tickets so I feel better knowing that she is almost done. One more dude in the lineup then it’s my turn! But when the dude gets to the counter he has a billion friggin’ questions about BC Lions tickets!!! OMG I was going to lose it! I think this partially has to do with the fact that my stomach was eating itself because I was ever so hungry. Besides that though, the guy was asking the most stupid questions I have ever heard. For example, “Do you know if I can get tickets somewhere else for cheaper?” or “If I spend more money on better tickets, do you think it will be worth it for me?”… but my favorite was “Where do you think all the hot chicks are sitting?” My patience was wear very thin at this point. I need to eat.

So while this moron in front of me is flirting with the saggy boobed ticket lady, I am debating on whether I should grab some tacos from the Taco Time right next door and hope that no one else jumps in the Ticketmaster line. I look over at Taco Time and there is virtually no lineup. But I then hear “OK, I’ll take the tickets here in the lower bowl.” Praise the Lord the man finally bought his tickets! So I decide to stay in line and get my tickets. I get my tickets and head over to the Taco Time but by now the lineup is HUGE. Damn! I am so hungry now I start to think like a cannibal. But miraculously a second cashier opens and I push people out of the way to get there. I order two hard shelled (I only like the hard shell because I think the soft ones taste like dough) beef tacos and mexi-fries to go. Mexi-fries are really just tater-tots but when dipped in hot sauce they become mexi-fries. Anyway… I now scramble to get back to work while trying to eat my lunch on the run. Of course, eating hard shelled tacos is very messy when you’re on the move. But I manage to pour on hot sauce and stuff every crumb and morsel of food into my mouth. My tummy thanks me for shutting up the growling. But of course all of this does not go without casualty. I manage to drip hot sauce all over my boob. Yup, a big, red, nasty stain. I looked like I was in a knife fight and my poor boob was the victim of the maiming.

So when I finally got back to the office, all I could think about was what an impatient asshole I was. I can’t imagine what I was like to the people behind the counters serving me. I must have been a complete dick. I think to myself, is this because I, as do others I’m sure, am used to things happening faster now a days? I know that if my web browser or any application on the computer does not respond instantaneously I click incessantly and lose my patience very quickly. Has our culture become one of instant gratification? Does everyone want things now? Where has our patience gone or did we really have patience in the first place? Were we just used to things being slower and simply accepted that we had to wait?

I have no answers to these questions. All I know is that I’m hungry again and need to eat before I gnaw off my own arm.

P.S. - on my way home from work, I go to London Drugs to pick up some toiletries and this lady at the checkout in front of me is paying in coins! ALL COINS! $11.34 worth of coins! I wanted to grab her little change purse and chuck it out the door! I am an asshole aren't I?

Krazy Glue and Smoking

Note to self: do not pack Krazy Glue in your toiletries bag if you are traveling by plane.

I am clearly an idiot because I thought it would be very efficient of me to take some Krazy glue with me to Calgary. I have some jewelry that needs a quick repair and a little Krazy glue should do the trick. Besides, I wanted to wear this pendant for a wedding this weekend but I didn't have time to carefully glue it back together before leaving Vancouver. Needless to say, the Krazy glue exploded in my toiletries bag and well everything is stuck together! Toothbrush, toothpaste, eye cream, nail clippers, tweezers, contact lens case, etc. all stuck together like white on rice! An Asian person would say "Aye-ya!" to that!


When I landed on Calgary, I waited for my girlfriend Aryn to pick me up. While I waited, I noticed some smokers getting twitchy for a cigarette. They must have come off a long international flight, either that or they're just hard core chain smokers. Anyhoodles, I watched these walking chimneys head over to the outside smoking area and I started laughing hysterically! Personally I think smoking is disgusting. Really. It's gross. We all know it's bad for your health - it makes you stinky, ages you ten fold (and no amount of anti-wrinkle cream will help your leathery catcher mitt like face), gives you bad breath, yellow teeth, yada, yada... not to mention it can kill you. Well it looks to me that the Calgary Airport Authority doesn't think much of smokers either because their designated smoking area is shared with the latrine of man's best friend. I actually feel sorry for the dogs there.

Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon: Brew Pub Style

When people use the expression “small world”, I now believe it to be true. It’s not that I didn’t believe it before. Many times when I have spent time with friends, acquaintances, co-workers, etc. we find out that we have mutual friends or acquaintances in common. I’m sure this experience is not uncommon and these sort of things happen more often than we think. However, one recent Saturday night in Yaletown takes the cake for my “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon” encounter.

Let’s start from the beginning of the night shall we??? My friend Deanna and I started the evening off hanging out at her place having our trusty Gin and Sodas shooting the shit. Even though her defective “Made in China” hair dryer literally singed chunks of hair from the top of my head (seriously, I lost enough hair that it resembled a small animal in her waste basket!), we were have a good time and laughing our asses off. At some point we thought we should head out some where and be a little social… so off to the Yaletown Brew Pub we went!

When we arrived at the Brew Pub I had an itching to play some pool. Deanna, on the other hand, declared her dismal pool handicap and I had to find someone else to play with. There were a couple of guys playing the table and they came across as a couple of “dudes” who thought their “shit don’t stink” if you know what I mean. Picture this: They were dressed in white, un-tucked, button up shirts with jeans and white shoes resembling Diesel sneakers and the like. Apparently there was a group of them out on a Stag, dressed in white and they called themselves “The White Knights” - how gay is that????

Nonetheless, I wanted to play a round, even if there were fools at the table. So I immediately put my twoonie on the edge of the pool table to hold my spot. Besides, I was feeling confident that I could kick at least one of their asses off the pool table. Apparently a little bit of gin in my system and I think I can make miracles happen. Anyhow, these jack-asses somehow convince me to play doubles with their buddy Shane. I reluctantly agree and we play. Fortunately, I was on my game and Shane and I won the first round! We continue to play another game when a couple of other ladies come by the table. We all stop for a small chat and introduce ourselves. One of the ladies introduces herself to me as “Zilya” and I immediately ask her “Did you used to be married to Travis?”.

Zilya smiles but looks at me puzzled as I say “I’m Nancy. I’m a friend of Simon’s”.

Zilya grins and says to me, “You’re the one with the Ninja!” We both laughed.

And that was the beginning of my world becoming smaller. As the night went on, I find out Zilya’s friend Sarah works with a friend of my sister’s, Linda, whom she will be the maid of honor at her wedding in a few weeks.

I later run in to a guy I went to school with named Cam. I also run into my friend Karen who happened to also be there with a few of her co-worker/friends. It turns out one of Karen’s friends went to high school with Cam. Anyhow… to try and simplify this Yaletown “small world” social network ordeal, I have included a diagram to illustrate the bizarre experience.

The bubbles in “blue” are the people who were actually at the Brew Pub that night. Those in “yellow” were not there but were the connection between the groups of people. Craziness!

So the moral to this story is: Don’t burn your bridges; especially not in this city because it may come back to bite you. Vancouver is a small city and it seems everyone knows everyone. Well, at least they did in Yaletown this one Saturday night!