No Time For Words

I used to be a good poster. And now I just suck.

Jess and I have looked at six suites in two days. And the one we looked at last night is probably our favorite. Master bedroom has a walk through closet into the bathroom (which also has a door to the main hallway). His side, my side!

In suite laundry (big one), gas fireplace (gas is included in rent), pretty kitchen, good use of space for storage, big patio outside for BBQ’ing and for Monty, parking space included. $1300 a month. How fucking rad is that?! And in Kits for those who know Vancouver.

Aaaah. WANT!

We looked at a few today at lunch and they’re.. alright. Not as nice, but downtown. I called the lady today and said we wanted it, and she said “Well that’s good. I like you guys, but I still have a few more viewings and it’s only fair.” So I’m on the edge of my seat right now, eye’ing the phone (yeah it’s midnight), waiting and hoping and praying to the gods of rent and lease that I get a phone call saying something along the lines of “You’d be perfect for my home, please move in!” If we don’t get the place, I will cry out of sorrow and then have a huge panic attack (followed by heart attack and death) because I’ve wasted a week of October and STILL haven’t found a place. Eeep.

Want… home… badly! FIREPLACE! HEEEEAAAAT!

Argh.

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Sunday

Craigslist is a crap shoot.

As Jess sits next to me killing bad guys on Ultimate Alliance 2, I browse Craigslist for a home. Knowing full well I’ll get an email back from Pastor Joe. Say’s he’s in West Africa doing missionary work and fighting AIDS. That he needs someone responsible to look after his apartment for the three years he plans to be gone. Send the money, he’ll send the keys.

I hope someone sodomizes him with the splintered end of a rake.

Q is getting bitey. As in, he finds it to be great fun to chew on Monty until Monty starts yelping. I lost my temper after the 50th time of telling DevilCat “No!” so I swatted his side… (hard). It’s be 30 minutes since he’s tried to bite my dog. It’s a record.

In other news… This video is HILARIOUS!

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Kick Boxing

Today I had my first kick boxing class. And as an ex-taekwondo …. er, I was really excited. I left work, hopped a bus and was bound for my class.

I showed up a little early. The smell of sweat and iron filled my lungs. A distant memory of really f*cking sore muscles washed over my legs and arms and a small bead of sweat trickled down my back (I was wearing a hoodie). Three sets of people were practicing their kicks and punches while a shorter man ran around yelling at them to “GO GO GO GO!!!!”

He came up to me, smiled, asked my name and directed me to the change room. I got changed fast, and then stretched. If there’s one thing I know about sports it’s to stretch before doing anything. Really. I checked my knee (the reconstructed one) and put my soft brace over it. More people started to trickle in. Lots of girls in those lululemon ass pants and three guys made up my class. Jumping jacks, burpies (AKA: evil push ups), jump and pulling knees to your chest, lots of warm up.

It was knee’ing practice today. You know, grab someone by the neck and drive the hardest part of your knee into their gut. Make them puke, make them moan. Make them sorry they ever crossed your path in a fight. Lots of kneeing. And then side kneeing. As in, grab them by the head and swing your knee around to knee them in the face. (Yay!)

We then had to pair up. I got paired with a very fit French girl. Fit to the extent that her breasts were no longer breasts. They were parted down the middle by rippling muscles. Really. I held the target for her, and she held the target for me. We kneed back and forth for 30 mins. Until I turned white… and had to put my head between my legs and breathe. (Really.)

I started to feel better so I went back out to do more kneeing. More kneeing, more kneeing. Now burpies! Now the PLANK!

(AAAHH) Now do the plank and extend one leg and then lift it up! Ahh my legs!

By the end of it, I was sweatier then I’d ever been, I was light headed. My hands and knees were sore from my weight being on them, and my butt was burning. If I hadn’t just explained to you that I was doing kick boxing this would sound like a really fucking dirty porno.

So yes. By the end of it, I paid my $25 and asked about payment methods. There’s 4-5 classes a week for an hour at 8pm (which is great because I work late). Buuuuut.. If I wanna pay month by month, I gotta commit to an entire year. And with my job it’s not gonna happen really. I’d love to get back into it. Get my ass kicked 5 times a week in training and then kick someone else’s ass in a match. But with my knee, and my job I don’t see it happening.

Maybe I’ll just join a gym.

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Fall

*sniffle*

It’s fall. You know how I know? Because it POURED today. It rained like a mofo. It was a friggin’ torrential downpour. It … was gross.

It was NOT as bad as snow though. That I have to admit.

And then I went out and bought an umbrella. Last one. So I grab it, unwillingly pay $30 for it, but suck it up because I don’t have an umbrella and I actually kinda need one. Go outside, open umbrella. Realize it’s a dorky looking umbrella. Scowl, and stomp my way to the bank.

At the bank I stopped all monthly payment to my TFSA and decided I would much rather just top it off and shelter money. The account manager (who is a fat old man) starts commenting (IN PUBLIC… not even in his office) how I’m not using it in investments and what not. And I say I’m investing with other banks to get him off my back. He then says “What about RSPs? Other bank too?” And I reply no I don’t have any. He then sternly looks at me and goes “Why don’t you have RSPs?!” I gave him one of those death glares that turn peoples blood to ice (except Jess… hmm) and say as curtly as possible, “Because I’m 20. And it’s NONE of your business.” He then hands me my papers to sign and I’m on my way. (I know being 20 isn’t a good reason by the way)

So yes…

Boring day of work. And now I’m home with my dog on my lap cuddling me and my book Pride and Prejudice and Zombies which is actually a fantastic book. I’ve read Pride and Prejudice before and it was good. This is just hilarious. Seriously read it.

Oh I went to Metrotown after work quickly to buy shorts and a tshirt for working out. All the shorts were boot shorts. And I’m just not ready to show my ass off until I’ve worked out a bit. I wanted something that would cover my ‘Nam wound (as Jess calls it) but then we’re getting into capris and full pants. So I settled for a just about the knee short.

Why? BECAUSE I’M STARTING KICK BOXING TOMORROW! Weeeeeeee!

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Promise

From now on, I’m gonna do my best to stop complaining about the roommate/cat situation. I realize that people don’t like listening to other people complain a lot. So I’m gonna try to stop.

Sometimes I do really well, until someone goes “How’s the room mate situation  goin’?” and I just break down and vent until I’m repeating myself over and over again how amazed I am that someone could be so utterly stupid. (I am amazed by the way.)

But since the room mate is leaving the 2nd week of October, I don’t have much time left with her. It’s almost over. Almost.

In other news, Jess went to a HEAT game tonight with an ex-co-worker. He’s excited. So that means that I get to enjoy a nice quiet evening in my room, playing with my computer, wishing my ‘B’ button wasn’t broken (long story) and chatting to my friends on msn. Is a good night. I may make tea though. Mmmmm tea.

And I’ve been browsing through Etsy. (I showed Jess’s mom and apparently she’s spent more then $200 on that site… so beware!) I’ll show you some of the stuff I like.

The 'a' is just an example. You can have any letter. I not-so-subtley hinted to Jess that I liked it. (As in he asked "is this a hint?" and I said "yup")

I'm seriously thinking about buying this tonight... For whatever reason, I'm on a key and pearl obsession right now.

I love this piece. It's called "Ghost Ship"

I’m a little hesitant to buy anything right now because I move in a month, but still. I bought two shirts the other day too and hopefully they arrive within the next two weeks. One is a “I love Naps” shirt for Jess and the other is a caffeine molecule for me. Yay!

Anyway… I’m gonna get back to browsing and wishing I had more money.

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Still on the HUNT!

I’m still on the hunt for a home. Jess and I found a great little one bedroom + den place in downtown for $1400 a month. It’s 530 sq ft and a little small, but it’s still really central, and a really nice place. And it includes partial utilities.

We checked out a few others too but they’re just… not right. Basement level, or just toooo expensive for the size/location.

It’s not quite October yet either (we’re looking for November). But I can assure you that on October 1st, my lunch hour will be spent eating soup and calling every pet friendly apartment building in the West End and Kits. EVERY LAST ONE! Yay stalking apartment buildings.

So yes. All is good. Roomie knows I’m mad at her about leaving her cat for 5 days, and hasn’t really spoken to me since. But whatever. She apparently found a place on the island (and is going to look at it next weekend) with 5 people. And she leaves for it on the 2nd week of October. 5 people means low rent basically. So that’s good.

Work is getting better. My shots are getting less boring which is nice.

And… yeah. Monty is still eating cat shit. Lovely.

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The Calm Before the Storm

I’ve complained about this before and often.

The Roomie and the Q. It’s like a poorly written fairy tail and I’m caught in the middle. Joy.

So as I had mentioned, the weekend I went away to Vernon, Roomie went to the island – without her cat. I don’t know the exact time she was gone, but I’m assuming it was 2-3 days. She left her 6 month old kitten alone, with a mountain of food for 2-3 days. I got home and he wrapped himself around myself and Jess because he was so starved of attention. Last week, Roomie informs me again that she’s going to the island. And the conversation basically went like this:

her: I’m going to the Island this weekend.

me: Are you taking Q?

her: Nope.

me: Why not? *scowl*

her: Because if you bring a pet on the ferry, they don’t let you take it where all the people are. So you have to stay in the cargo hold the entire time.

me:… So?

her: I don’t wanna do that. He’ll be fine. I’ll fill up his food bowls before I go. me: *shakes head* wtf…

So, she didn’t ask if I could look after him, she just left him with me. She didn’t clean his litter box before she left, and I ended up doing it yesterday morning because it rapidly became the leaning tower of kitty shit.

And she never even told me how long she planned on being gone. I assumed 2 or 3 days. It’s now 5. Oh, and her phone is dead. How do I know this? Because the charger is in my living room. So I had to text her pyscho bf and ask when she’s coming home. He texted back “tomorrow night” to which I promptly responded “Tell her next time she goes to the island she’s taking her cat.” I never got a text back so I’m assuming it got through. I usually try to steer away from causing problems upfront with the offenders but this is the last straw.

I’m done with her shitty pet owner skills. I’m done with her leaving her cat for 5 days. I’m done with her telling me she’ll get him fixed and then not. And I’m done with her telling me she’ll buy a covered litter box so MY pet can use the rest of his home. (He’s been confined to the living room because he eats cat shit, because 1) she doesn’t clean it daily and 2) she won’t get a cover.) And I’m done with her not cleaning her cat’s litterbox and then the smell of cat shit wafting into my room. (So I put the litter box on her bed)

But I really don’t know what to say. I would be devastated if someone told me I wasn’t taking care of Monty properly. But that’s probably because I do take care of him, and if someone else looks after him, he’s got a fucking list of emergency contacts and instructions. Seriously. So in her mind, she could be taking care of this cat just fine. But she’s not. But I’m making a point to talk to her tonight when I get home. Jess is even more angry about it then I am.

But she came home yesterday and I received a text or two from her saying she was home, and she was sorry if Q bugged me and that she’d be home later. I reemed her out. I replyed with, “The sad part is you would have left him for the same amount of time even if i wasn’t home. You didn’t even bother to clean the litterbox. I feel bad for the cat.”

I really should have just said, “It’s no the pet that I have a problem with. It’s the owner.” And then left it at that. She responded with a bunch of excuses and I just bid my time until I saw her face to face to really really reem her out and strike the fear of god into her. I can be very intimidating when need be.

So, here I am at home. Waiting. Silently.

Calm before the storm.

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Sending out Sympathies.

A really good friend of mine’s dad died yesterday in a car accident along with two other people.
I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a parent. Granted, if I lost my biological dad, I probably wouldn’t care that much. In fact I’m pretty sure my first reaction would be “Good Riddance.”
But a parent or someone you care about. It’s not a good thing.
I really don’t know what to write about this, since I have about 5 mins to write about it and I’m still pretty shocked.
So I’m sending out sympathies to James and his family.
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Investing!

I feel like I’m about 30 years older then I really am. Not physically, but I do have a sore back/neck almost all of the time due to my job and sitting in a crap seat.

Mentally I mean.

I’m finished college. I have a career. I’m moving in with my boyfriend, we’re getting a cat together (which I’m totally okay with him naming “Zeddicuss Z’ol Zorander” ) and I’m thinking of investing what is currently enough money to put a down payment on a very cheap home so I can in turn see it grow into a down payment for a … pricier home. Yay homes!

It’s the investing part that makes me feel old. I’ve had about 2 appointments with an investor adviser in the past month or so to figure out what I’m gonna do.

Jess’s dad (who is a financial adviser) told me to keep it in a savings account because the market is gross right now.

My mom said to take a bit of risk if it’s gonna be sitting there for 5 years waiting to grow.

And… my investor person… said to throw it in a …. “conservative portfolio.”

Okay, am I the only one who’s confused here?

Does any one have any good tips or websites for investing for beginners in Canada?

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Let’s buy a home and be in debt for the rest of our lives

Seriously.

I’m running around (metaphorically) Craig’s List searching for a pet friendly apartment that will have enough space, 2 bedrooms (or one bedroom and den) and still be reasonably priced. And so far my luck has been minimal. But that might have to do with the fact that I’m looking for November and it’s currently mid-September.

But the more I search the more I find myself thinking that I should just buy instead of rent. I have a chunk of money that would serve as a nice (small) down payment on a roughly $200k home. I’d be able to paint the walls the colour I want. I’d be able to put hooks and shelves in/on the walls and not worry about getting my damage deposit taken away. I’d be able to have any pet I wanted. I’ve have my own yard… I wouldn’t have to worry about Fleetwood barking at midnight above my bedroom.

But I’m 20. I’d have to get down on my knees for a bank to give me a mortgage. So I think that, due to the success of Lo’s “Donate to my trip to France” thinger, that I should start up a “Donate to my Buy a Home Fund” type thing. Yeah? *crickets*

Oh shut up.

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