Woot woot

decideAd

2010-03-30T19:42:00.000-07:00

wish
I need dog
Then the pigeons would fly away when I approached their terrible humping corners.

2009-09-13T19:27:00.000-07:00

hey frienda, tis been a long time. I hope all is weel well in the world of the Internet I AM FOREVER ALIVE! IN IN spectrum thst is the cranium. keep it alive in your spines' let"S hope iget a job.

Final evening.

2009-07-29T21:30:00.000-07:00

Well,

Tis been a lovely stay in the West end, but it is time that I move back into the slums of Toronto. Tonight is my last evening sleeping at my aunt's house, as I shall be going to the parentals to gather the other half of my belongings before I move tomorrow after work.

Victoria and I found a lovely basement apartment that is close to all the places we hold most dear to our drunken hearts.

I enjoyed staying here at my aunt's, with my little yellow bedroom, but I am quite excited to finally have my own home. What excites me even more is getting my double bed back! The last time I had a single bed was when I was maybe 5-years-old, so this year has been an interesting experiment for my sleeping body. I have almost fallen out of my single bed twice. boooo

I am also excited to live with someone I know, rather than a random roommate or by myself. We have lime green walls and bright blue bedrooms, which will be decorated to our taste.

I hope that you will stop by and say hello, as we enjoy company. We also will not have cable or the Internet, so in-person communication will be the best way to get those answers! Speaking of which, I will not have the Internet! So I can't say that this blog will be running a marathon anymore. I will try and update it, and maybe find some free Internet somewhere in the apartment.

If you want to contact me some time after this Saturday, don't hesitate to pick up your phone and give a ring. I shall not be displaying it on here, as one never knows if there is some creepy stalker reading their blog.

Since moving in with my aunt, one thing I always liked was the lamp in my room. It let's off this really nice light during the evening. I took a picture so that I could show you rather than explain. Plus I thought a photo of the last place I will be before leaving the Internet world should be of my room.

I hope to see you sparkles in the raindrops.
farewell.

Jazz

strange.

2009-07-26T08:33:00.000-07:00

Vick and I are moving out next week.
I had a dream about the new place.
We were given a custom toilet!
It was orange and high-tech looking.
It was as orange as a pylon.
It was rimmed with black rubber.
It opened automativally.
Who knows what superstar gave it to us.
That's what we were most excited about.

Why is my brain in the sewer?

summer.more stuff.

2009-07-12T12:57:00.001-07:00

Wong Liu Tsong
Sam Hood - brave in my eyes.
Amy Johnson

PS Koko Taylor died last week on June 3rd, so I thought I would also post this clip of her singing with Willie Dixon.

Canada.

2009-07-01T15:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Canada,

Today is your 142nd birthday and your 143rd year. Well, your not a person, so I don't think that plus one year thing applies, but regardless tis a lovely day.

Did you know that vexilloids means guide? This is apparently what the first flags were called way back when... 3000 BC. And, around 2000 years ago people began decorating flags with different kinds of fabric.

Flag poles were created using spruce or pine trees prior to the industrial revolution. Animal fat would be placed on the wooden carving, acting as a preservative -- these poles could last for up to 50 years.

Our flag has a maple leaf. I am allergic to maple leafs. I am not patriotic in a "medical terms" kind of way.

happyCanadaday!
They shouldn't be able to use the flag...

water.

2009-06-29T14:23:00.000-07:00

Warm fluffy bubbles gliding along my ears and toes. Twas the sweet lavender smell that put me to sleep. Silence is the best kind of night -- sometimes.

Yesterday night I had a bubble bath, which is perhaps the most relaxing way to bathe ones self. I filled the deep tub with three different kinds of bubble soap. 1) aroma: lavender 2)baby bath: to make me fall asleep, as the directions said 3)exfoliante: prick out all the bad germs

Over the past two years or so I have become a middle-aged house wife, give me some candles and sexy music and we're set! The best part about bubble baths is sticking your ears under the water. The echoes beneath the water make it sound like every movement is reminicient of a whale that's calling for it's family while travelling in the ocean.

I love how each little bubbles strides up the back of my neck and my feet are nice and toasty (I have no circulation!) Fun fact, the bubbles also act as an insulant, which is why bubble baths stay warmer for much longer amounts of time than a regular old "water bath."

Water baths are not relaxing.
I do not enjoy water baths.

I also noticed the rain storm yesterday while I was in the basement. The sun was shining into the kitchen in a really pretty-kind-of-way.

Needles to say, I was in a strange kind of mood yesterday. This is why I shall be a hermit this week.

betty jeanette.

2009-06-27T12:56:00.000-07:00

She is the lady that is singing.
She is my new hero. Pretty bad-ass.
Really nice tone to her voice.

en.ded.dead.

2009-06-26T15:14:00.000-07:00

And The Whole World Has To
Answer Right Now
Just To Tell You Once Again,
Who's Bad . . .

MJ gone. Tis strange.

texture.

2009-06-25T14:58:00.000-07:00

I have this thing where certain textures really freak my body out. As in I get goosebumps on my arms and shivers in my legs. It's really strange, but it happened today.

bah! I'm getting goosebumps as I think about it. There was this wall that had some weird things sticking out of it and I began to get ridiculous arms hair sticking up goosies. It's really uncomfortable and usually I'm alone, but it happened with a co-worker and she thought I was strange.

I don't know if this happens to anyone else, but yeah. Strange looking textures, whether on walls or certain kinds of food. Like the inside part of mushrooms! The little tiny lines inside the little hut thing! Looking at those gets me crazy.

I have to stop talking about this because the shivers are crawling along my spine and into my head and on my face.

In other news, Ty Segall
saw them last night. that was a real gem of a show. watch out for them kites.

essential moments.

2009-06-22T14:46:00.000-07:00

This weekend a group of us went to Ancaster to celebrate the heating in the pool and the first day of summer. These are some of what I consider to be "the key photos that best describe the trip."

the beginning.

somewhere in between.

trash bags are for people.

poolside eating of doritos ended day two. twas fun.

Remember.

2009-06-18T21:13:00.000-07:00

When you were a kid you had to have loved bubble letters. They were very popular to draw during the nineties.

Every person kind ofhad their own technique, but the actual bubble in the letter always stayed the same. Whether it was a title page for French class, a note for your friend or the front page of the book you had to write in fourth grade.

Woah, I just remembered that I wrote a book in grade four. We had some sort of book competition thing. We each received a blank white book and after working on the story for a couple months we then were able to draw and write on the blank pages of our book.

Man, I wonder if that's in one of my memory books. Yes, I have various memory boxes -- I can't forget the good times. It's kind of ridiculous, but I kept every ticket stub for every concert, every ribbon from various sports teams and lots of little things.

As a graduation gift my lovely grandparents gave me a handmade memory box, which contains some items from my childhood and a placemat with photos of me with them. Twas a swell gift that brought tears to these eyes.

Anyways, weird thought. Can't believe the bubble letter just instigated a really random memory.

Back to the bubble letter. I was really good at writing "in bubble." I was always a terrible writer, some saying it was because I was left handed, but I would have to disagree. I mean, I think I just rushed the writing process and hadn't yet mastered the successful stroke without the smudging on the side of my hand.

As a lefty, you always have smudges on the side of your hand. This is also my theory as to why we (as a people) began writing sideways. In an effort to discourage the smudgery we had to twist are arms or turn the paper sideways. Much like the evolution of humankind, our penmenship changed as we adapted to writing with ink.

Ryerson University alumni stuff called me today. I was kind of sleeping, but I listened to the news about what's happening on campus. Not that I will ever be back, but I felt as though the person on the other side of the line perhaps hated his job, and for that reason I did not hang up the phone and let him recite his schpeel.

who knows how to spell schpeel. Not me. Is it even a real world.
I mean, word. Sorry, the new season of that show starts next week.

ALright, that's it for this here kettle.

I wanted to.

2009-06-14T11:33:00.000-07:00

I had planned to post a video by massive attack, but the internet world would not allow me to share it with you.

Tis unfortunate.

If you want to watch the perfect song look up "teardrop" on youtube. I remember, as a kid, watchig tv and this song came on. I instantly thought it was a lovely tune and it has always been on a hanger in my brain. Right next to the broken beer bottles.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fG8eQBSp9Ao

Today in Jasmyn news, I am completing le laundry and thinking about enjoying the sun in a little bit.

I have been slowly but surely getting rid of clothes. I am always fascinated by rooms that have a minimal amount of clothing. I look around and think -- I can do this! I have three bins, one closet and one dresser. The plan is to eliminate as much as I can, so that I only take two bins with me to the next living space.

August 2009. I am back.

I'm kind of tired of having to take the TTC every where that I go these days. It will be nice to take long walks again.

Jean-Claude Van Damme (JCVD). Yeah, I watched it last night. He was really good. You should watch this film.

Well, it's time I leave the computer box.

attention

2009-06-02T14:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Rattail played the radio show No Beat, which is on CIUT. Our set will be streaming alllll this week if you want to hear le musique.

Anyways, during the show they played this song that immediately caught my attention so I decided to investigate.

Dogbowl

free thought

2009-05-30T16:07:00.000-07:00

Tis been a rainy week. Lot's of wet coats, dark hair and foggy eyes. I wonder who invented rainboots. They are key to ones success, even if they're cut-off rainboats like the pair that I have.

Summer is a coming, I can feel it in my bones. Sweating trinkles of fun, laughing on many o patios. And don't forget the tan, the ones that make everyone look well-rested, even if that is not the case. A good summer glow goes a long way for those who enjoy the nighttime.

I wish I was a morning person, but I am not. I am quite productive during the afternoon. My brain wakes up when the sun is going down.

Although, today I did a two hour clean of my room around 1pm. Got rid of a bags worth of clothing that I haven't worn over this past year. I have a hard time getting rid of stuff, but I am trying to work on that side of my cranium.

This weekend is a 2-day-block-of-rest. Haven't gone out, but I rented many movies and am not leaving any type of home. Edit, tomorrow I am going to pedestrian Sunday to see a co-worker drum -- I shall be joined by other co-workers. Yes, we see each other everyday all day, but Sunday shall be fun.

I like Sundays a lot.
I like Saturday's, but not as much as Sunday's.
They're so relaxing and yeah.

This is my summer music, in particular The Indian Ocean.

It's just one of those songs that's fun to get ready to, or just listen to in general. I am currently reading a book written by Suze Rotolo titled A Freewheelin' Time: A Memoir of Greenwich Village in the Sixties. I've been getting into Bob Dylan's albums again as a result.

I think that's it for this entry, but I will be back with more on wedding photos.

I like wedding photos.

2009-05-23T18:08:00.000-07:00

fuzzy brains

2009-05-17T12:42:00.001-07:00

Today I am tired. My brain feels kind of fuzzy and my eyeballs are slow. I shall be hibernating tonight, taking part in television watching and drinking coffee.
My mother and brother came by for a visit today and when I lifted my pant leg my mom said, "is that your birthmark." "Yep."

But where did the word birth mark come from? That's what I thought about post conversation. Is it some sort of puncture/forever bruise that happens when you're exiting the va jay jay.

Apparently there is an old wives tale that says birthmarks are stains caused by something the mother has eaten.

Anyways, there is no difinitive answer as to what causes birthmarks on some people -- they cannot be prevented ladies and gents.

The two main types:
Vascular: When blood vessels don't form properly because they get tangled or don't form properly.
Pigmented: they are caused by an overgrowth of the cells that create pigment in the skin.

Back to life.

I've been listening to a lot of Steve Reich's compositions today. You should watch this piece titled, "Different Trains."

happy sunday

this crazy lady.

2009-05-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

SOoooo there's this kind of crazy OCD lady that comes to my work every day. Yeah, she bought me some stuff from Esprit. How do you spell that word? Twas weird.

I also got to leave work early today. As in I worked 8:30 to 11:30. amaze.

tis been a good week.

woot woot

and also

2009-05-11T15:57:00.000-07:00

during band practice there was whiskey and wine.
after practice there were ceasars.
after ceasars there was beer drinking.

then there were squish faces.

blaaaah

2009-05-11T10:46:00.000-07:00

Went to the parentals over the weekend. Watched a lot of movies. Then a nature walk on the Dundas conservation area. Overall, twas a successful weekend filled with laughter and cheer!

Two best movies over the weekend: Vicky Cristina Barcelona and Frozen River

On Mother's Day we went to this pancake place in Hamilton and it was delish. I fotgot how good breakfast food at local diners can taste. And soo cheap! I had eggs and sausage, which came with toast and home fries, for all of $5.75.

If you would like to go discover some great breakfast places, please send me a message via the world and we will find some great eggs.

I love eggs, I eat them practically every other day.
Sramble the brain before you start the day -- in a healthy kind of way.

I think I will put up some pictures to follow this stupid post.

We also went to Yorkdale on Friday. Got some dinner and walked around the mall visiting expensive stores. A woman was following us around in Holts as if we were going to steal. Bullshit.

In general, I'm realizing this weekend was also about food. Perhaps too much of it, but it was mother's day weeeekend yo!

creepy people in background.

2009-05-09T14:55:00.000-07:00

It's very sunny.

2009-04-27T15:28:00.000-07:00

I propose a trip to le Island some time soooon.
When I wasa kid we went on the 4 or 6 person bicycle. I can't remember how many people, but it was really fun.

I think that's what we should do soon.
Whoever wants to -- let's plan.

Bicycle, bicycle. I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle!

horses, snails and poodles.

2009-04-22T14:50:00.000-07:00

All three images will change your spine.

composing and such.

2009-04-19T18:35:00.000-07:00

I've been lacking in the writing department. I apologise, tis been a lazy kind of week. I watched a lot of movies over the weekend, twas fun!

I also decided that I want to get back into making jewellery. I used to love creating necklaces and bracelets. I was "most likely to open a jewellery store" in grade eight. Although that might have also been a vote that was swayed by the fact the jazzy jewellery was really popular when I was growing up.

Speaking of childhood. Victoria and I were discussing Mountain Dew and Cream Soda today. What happened to those drinks? They were your best bet at a party -- along side the cheezies. Do kids still drink this stuff?

I'll have to investigate.

There was another topic I was thinking about earlier today, but I can't seem to remember that thought.

Lack of schooling has made me a bit brain dead. I kind of miss having a teacher! But then I remember that it's also Sunday night and I don't have a care in the world and therefore retract my previous statement.

I think I'm going to look up some information about pop and throw a new post up huurrr soon.

woot woot

pumpkins.

2009-04-13T22:12:00.000-07:00

I like to read about female blues singers -- tis interesting.
Yes, I love the men, but there were some talented laaaadies.

Sister Rosetta Tharpe

Koko Taylor

Happy Easter

2009-04-12T10:39:00.001-07:00

Jesus Christ Superstar is my favourite movie.

Bunnies.

2009-04-11T08:48:00.000-07:00

I don't actually like rabbits. They creep my out. Why have an animal that just sits around and eats carrots. I like dogs and cats and dwarf ponies.

Eggs
Are
So
Tasty.
Easter
Rules.

Ears
Ache
Sometimes.
Those
erractic
Rumblers.

hm.

2009-04-08T16:18:00.000-07:00

Some things:

1) For the last couple of years I have wanted a dwarf pony. I know their shit would probably be disgusting, but they're so cute.

2) I have some great compadre's. We hung out, well more like alongside, with the frat kids in the Bloor West Village, it was strange. This weeest end stuff is kind of growing on me..Just a little bit - I still miss the convenience of Bathurst and Bloor, and maybe even Ossington and Davenport. I had to throw stuff at the raccoon that would sit in the tree by my basement exit when I lived on Davenport. I also had a random crazy squirrel that scared me with it's erratic movement. I was late for school many a times because of the thing.

3) I went to good old Weston this weekend. Travelled to the Superstore to use my Joe Fresh gift card -- bought I $10 white tee. I then took the 89 Weston Road bus to Value Village. On my way I saw the railroad, which ran along the back of my elementary school. Whenever we had supply teachers they would freak out over the sound of the train thinking something "terrible" was happening outside. Nope, just the hourly trains passing by the portable.

Here I go again.

2009-04-04T11:43:00.000-07:00

Today most of the ladies that were in Hot Monogamy are having a crafty sort of evening. We were a band for three years, but never actually put anything out. That being said, we thought we should at least burn some CDs with songs we recorded at Sleepytown.

If you want a CD you can contact me and I'll hand-deliver a shiny CD to your doorstep!

Speaking of doorsteps... no I don't really have anything to say about doorsteps.
Or anything to talk about. Yesterday night I finished watching season 2 of Big Love and then I fell asleep until 10:30pm. I then did some reading and fell asleep at 1am -- and woke up at 12:30pm today! That is some serious sleeping.

If you like magazines, you should really read SEED. Tis a science magazine that's really easy to read and has beautiful pictures throughout.

I think that's all th noggins gotta say today.

Remember this magic?

Lack of posting.

2009-03-30T19:47:00.000-07:00

Sorry kids,

twas a busy week! Well, not really, but I've recently started watching Big Love and have to watch a slew of DVDs.

Serioulsy, I think that watching an entire season in one week is the best way to watch a show. I can't imagine going back to the days when I would have to wait on week, one summer or maybe even years like with the Sopranos.

I remember when Blockbuster started phasing out VHS. It was so strange! I thought no one would convert to DVD players, or at least I woulnd't. And look at me now, watching entire seasons on a CD. ballls.

Well, I still have my VHS player. I like watching my old movies on the old bugger -- plus you can get reeeeaaal cheap VHS shit at stores. Like $1 cheap. Like "Man of the House," $1 cheap. JTT for life.

I also did something this week which I will tell you about later. First I musr break it to thep parentals, as I'm not sure if relatives read this blog.

I have a censorship on my family-media-activity. It's basically like this, I will not add aunts, uncle's or distant relatives to facebook. I will add cousins, but I rarely communicate with them via facebook or even look at their pages.

There have been some upset aunts, but I think it's creepy that they can find out about my social life. If they looked at my facebook it would be this ridiculous version of myself. My great aunt, who's perhaps in her 60s tried to add me. Yes, this was nice, but her parents didn't get to know everything she was doing. Therfore, I believe it's morally right for the older-family to back off of my "Internet Life."

As Mary J would say ," don't need no player haters."
As I would say, "don't need no pigeons."
Yeah that's it, that's all I have to say about that situation.

Anyways, I have taken some new photos, but I will add them in the next coming days. I'm thinking of going to High Park this weekend -- see what's sprouting out this year.

Remember that commercial spooots onabagaaaaa, mi mi mi ,milk.

Rolling On Monday.

2009-03-22T10:18:00.000-07:00

The ROM was a lot of fun and my little brother seemed to quite enjoy our educational day. I even took him to Kensington to help me find a white leather jacket. "Jazz, this looks used." I responded saying, "yes, it is." "Everything here is second-hand? We are very different people."

Absolutely amazing.

Did you know that the Egyptians had tweezers?
I thought that was a pretty amazing discovery.

Let's edit the sun.

2009-03-16T14:57:00.000-07:00

I can hear the kids outside "shooting hoops."
I forgot about this time of year. The kids are restless and want to play common sports with the local kids.

The reason I bring this up is because as soon as I heard the swish of the basketball it brought me back to my driveway as a child. I was pretty athletic, but very socially awkward.

Afraid to speak to any of the boys who were in my class and lived on my my street, I would shoot hoops alone. And then I would get my tennis racket and play with the side of the house. I remember some of the boys made fun of me one of the following days after, asking why I was playing tennis by myself.

Yo guy! I was shy as hell. You know what all of my report cards said from Grade 1 to Grade 7ish, "Jasmyn is a really good student, but she has to work on talking out loud." So I would literally get in trouble because I had to learn how to speak up in class and shit.

"Jazz, you can't stay quiet," is what my parents would say. Perhaps this is hard to believe for the new generation of friends that know me, but I'm still pretty awkward.Catch me on the street at random and I will not know what to say to you.

Random conversations are not my best strength.

Anyways, tis funny that the kids playing outside struck a chord with my past.

On a side note, my little brother is coming to le city tonight and I am going to take him to the ROM tomorrow. Super excited! I haven't been there in ages. He's also a youngin and it's always more fun when a kid is exploring shit with you. Well, not all kids, I 'm not fond of most children. But my little brother's very witty -- has the mind of an adult.

One time when I was maybe 14, our parents took him, my cousin and I camping. My parents stopped in at a local corner store and he had been making fun of me the whole time while they were in the store. Keep in mind that he was maybe three or four. I got made at him and he suddenly said in a terribly creepy way "Everyone thinks Jasmyn's the real bad guy, but I'm the real bad guy."

My cousin and I started freaking out thinking he was some conspiracy child. When my parents got back in the car we asked Taylor to say what he has said to us, but he looked back and said, "I don't know."

My parents never believed this story, but it's true!
Needless to say, he's quite the character.

ps we have new songs up RatTail!

Ears on the stairway to heaven.

2009-03-12T14:51:00.000-07:00

I cut off the rat tail!
I know everyone's happy, but it kind is was for the best. I started to get attached to the rat tail, which is not what I wanted out of the experience of growing my hair out.

I started to get attached to the rat tail. I never wanted to cut it off. I made me think about letting the rest of my hair catch up so that I would have a giant mass of curls.

Pause. I have been cutting and dying my hair for a couple years and have never cared about cutting it all off. I like to let the hair get a little long and then chop it all offf.

That being said, I looked at my rat tail and knew that it was time to leave. I grew it for about 4 months, but now that back part is really short, almost to the scalp. Sort of like an undercut, well not really, I'm not sure how to explain it. Regardless, it's gone. I also forgot that I like my hair quite short.

RIP RatTail -- at least you were able to leave me with my new bands' name.

Also, Little Girls

You should listen to them. I think they're rockets.

yep.

2009-03-11T21:18:00.001-07:00

The original Boyz 2 Men ladies and gents.

When I was a student.

2009-03-07T22:58:00.000-08:00

I wrote this field-note a couple years ago while still in school. Thought I would put it up on this her thing -- with some new edits.

Obligated to push open the automatic doors, an explosive stench suffocates each
strand of sensitive nostril hair. The macrocosmic reek, perhaps the cause of clothing from every walk of life being placed in one room, engulfs the entire room.

As the pollution-like air hovers over my curly hair, my ears are then pleasantly greeted by the subtle sound of soft-rock music. Shania Twain’s “Any Man of Mine,” is a decoy used to mask the slight watering of my eyes as they are blinded by the fluorescent beam lighting that pounds down on the cracked, yellow-stained flooring.

Glancing over at the walls, it seems like they are covered with mirrors, mimicking the tattered floors until I notice one distinctive feature. The dusty, thick red line that runs along the stark square room of every Value Village.

Savers Incorporated, the company that owns Value Village, made the store international during the 1980s. The Village, as I like to call it, is now the largest for-profit thrift chain store in the world. The store receives supplies from non-profit organizations that ask local residents for good re-useable items. Value Village in turn funds these groups by paying for the goods, as well as giving a portion of money collected from shoppers’ purchases.

As I enter the first row of clothing, it looks as though the aisle is a volcano that
erupts rows upon rows of clothing. Semi-organized in accordance to season, style and
colour, the dresses given by strangers who live close by leave a thick residue on my slowly blackening hands. Riffling through floral along crooked rusty racks, the high pitched screech of the wire hangers sends vibrations through my exhausted arms. Yet, the grinding clatter never really matters as I search through the good and bad in search of a great find.

Side Note: Even with low prices and sales, 50% of the Village’s items aren’t
sold, so they are sent overseas or to material wholesalers to be sold at
local markets or shredded and recycled.

As I look around, I wonder if the lack of décor in the windowless structure makes people like my mother avoid the store. Regardless, the stagnant objects that could be put back on a counter from 1975 or the squealing shopping carts that are muted by the cries of a baby, or a person laughing make Value Village a colourful way to shop.

And who wouldn’t want one of those snazzy red vests the employees sport.

Dear floating clouds.

2009-03-05T15:30:00.000-08:00

Dear clouds,

you're so round and bouncy. Not a care in thr world -- except maybe humidity.

Why aren't I a lovely fluffy cloud, rather than a wrinkly human.
I say this because I would rather be close to the clouds, perhaps in a plane, than on the subway. Today the stupid rocket had technical problems.

It took me over an hour to get home. I live on the subway line and this route is usually no more than 20 minutes.

Also, why do people have to keep quitting at my place of work. Over 4 or so weeks 4 people have quit. They work for 1 to 2 weeks and then quit. We are continually understaffed.

My Throat sounds like a car that's about to die.

chuga chuga chuga chuga booooo booooooooooo.

Totally.

2009-03-02T20:40:00.001-08:00

Also, my mom wants to go on a vacation to the windy city.
We are trying to get tickets to see Oprah. I am excited as hell.

Back cracks.

2009-02-28T09:26:00.000-08:00

I have the weekend off.
This is key to my success.

Why?
I am tired.
Twas a bit of a crazy week.

It's kind of strange typing like this.
Is it weird reading like this?

I think this style of writing.
Makes me sound like a robot.

I have to do laundry today.
I wore my "1982" top to work yesterday.
Apparently many people, customers and fellow
employees, were born during this year.

I ran into customers at a bar.
That was awkward because now I have
to see them at work everyday and pretend
it didn't happen.

Mr. Cab driver

2009-02-25T14:39:00.000-08:00

We spoke about the current state of the economy, he taught me about the difference between micro-racism and macro-racism and he even spoke a little bit about drug-dealing in Toronto.

Today after work I was given a free cab ride home. Why? With whom? What happened?

Well my friends, I was "too nice."

On Tuesday I went out for some drinks, which ended up turning into a drunken mess. The next day I was going to be late for work so I decided to call a cab.
The cabbie arrives and I'm eating a peanut-butter sandwich while drinking a bottle of water. My voice sounds like a frog ribbit and I probably smelt like a brewery.

Regardless, the cab driver let's me get in and asks what route I would like to take, which is what they're all supposed to ask when you get in a cab. Anyways, I say I would like to travel along Annette.

He is listening to CBC Radio and the discussion is about the banning of tazors. We get into a great discussion and he explains his take on authority and how no police officer should be able to justify ending a life.

We continue riding along Annette. Traffic is pretty smooth, I get to to work. Done.

But then I ask "do you have a debit machine?" He does, but it's not charged. We try the machine a couple of times, but he knows I'm late for work and says, "here, my name is Oliver, take down my number and I 'll take yours and I can come pick up your money after you're done work."

I tell him I'm off at 4:30pm, but it turns out that he had to work at his other job and was unreachable. So I call him today during my break and he says that he can meet me after work.

So I wait outside and at 4:45pm Oliver arrives. He flashes his lights and I head to the cab to give him the money. BUT then he says that I am too nice and he wants to drive me home -- for free!

So long story short, Oliver just drove me home and I can't believe that this actually happened. How nice of him! I could have ignored his call yes, but the fact that he was so appreciative that I did so was quite nice.

On the way home I learned that his daughter is studying micro-biology in Austin, Texas. He also graduated from teachers college in 1978.

He also told me that if he is with people that have a "mysterious bag," and they want him to make more than two stops, he will be honest and say he doesn't want to take part in any drug runs. He also mentioned having people with mysterious bags travel up to Woodbridge, which is where the talk about racism and the assumption that all drug dealers live in Regent Park came into play.

Anyways, twas a lovely cab ride home. He wished me a great day and would only let me give him a five dollar tip, which was from yesterday's ride.

PS I love cab drivers. They always have really insightful things to say about the world. I highly suggest that you take part in a conversation with your next cab driver.

Plus they might speed up a little more to catch that next yellow light.

Thanks Oliver!

Watch our for the razors.

2009-02-23T14:37:00.000-08:00

The parentals bought me a camera for my Birthday. "I have never owned one of these before," said me to myself as I looked at the camera. This is my first flashy transmission, minus throw aways -- those a dope. And real.

Thought I was going to post some pics. pfffft!
This computer is from the early ousands and it's also a very slow version of the Internet.

Maybe there will be pictures in a couple days. But for now, I want you to picture chocolate chips with Trident gum that's covered by a dinosaur tail, which can't swing because the teeter totter keeps blocking the batter's swing.

Hmm, that was "freedom thinking." When you type things that just come out of your brain some really strange sentences happen.

Tis highly recommended.

Twenty-three.

2009-02-21T12:28:00.000-08:00

Geese, how time goes by so fast.
Today I turn 23 -- I don't know how I feel about this "getting older" business. Since I was 14, I have worried about my age - yes I'm crazy. I really wanted to be 15and was convinced it would be my best year.

I was terrified when I turned 17-years-old. I thought that was the end of all fun. When I turned 20, it was kinda boring. Now that I'm 23, I have started thinking about 25, and then before you know it, I'll be 30 and then 40! And then retiree. BAM

Yes, this has been my thought about growing old since I wa 14, which isn't a great way too look at life. I assumed it would fly by before I had even started highschool.

Ah well, good things about getting old. EVERYTHING. Pretty much, minus wrinkles, and yes, I look forward to menopause. I think it will be great, one less worry on my plate. One less cramp and one less baby.

Vick and I went to Yorkdale for dinner and a movie last night. Yes, that was a durastic change in subject, but yeah, we saw that movie "He's just not that into you." Twas kind of ridiculous and we both wished that they had incorporated some woman that just went around sleeping with guys and not giving a "flying flute."

PG language is dope.

Speaking of dope, I am celebrating my birthday tonight. I look forward to my annual birthday hurrah. Hurrraahh, like football players like to say.

"I don't want - you're laafe."

This is basically how my thought process takes place. I have very random thoughts and have a tendency to blurt out sentences that rarely relate to the original topic.

Anywho, I look forward to vodka and coke with my my lovely fliends.

woot woot!

Bad-ass.

2009-02-18T21:22:00.001-08:00

Yes, I use that word quite frequently.
I don't even give a care.

Regardless, one of my favourite performers (Karen O), did a solo show in NYC over the summer so I thought I would post this video.

Ignore the person behind the camera, who thought it would be nice to pan over to the fans. Strange.

Man oh man.

2009-02-15T09:24:00.000-08:00

I rented a documentary about Pete Seeger the other day.
It was golden.

What's most interesting is that his songs, both in the Weavers and the Almanac's, were played nationwide on the radio during the 40s and 50s, but then the US goverment thought he was a communist and he was banned from radio and television (for 17 years).

But, he did quit the Almanac's after they were offered a national cigarette ad -- " I don't drink, I don't smoke and I don't like nighclubs," said Seegar, and he then went on to say that the group didn't need the money that much and left.

Unable to get much work, he began travelling to schools and playing folk music for children throughout New York. These kids loved his songs and participated in singing with Seegar. The interesting point the documentary made was that these New Yorkers then went to college and wanted social change, which coincided with Seegar's folk music and what it stood for, as far as community and unity.

The documentary sort of insinuates that because of Pete Seegar, there came the New York art scene. So perhaps Greenwich village during the 60s -- with all that crazy-amazing Bob Dylan and "best American music ever made," stuff is because of him.

During the 60s, Seegar began to play huge venues and was sort of the god for folk musicians. Regardless, he seems like he's a very humble man. In fact, he doesn't really like to hear his own voice, but rather those of the audience who comes to see him play.

What a swell guy.

When Pete was finally allowed back on air he played this song, but Waist Deep in the Big Muddy was considered too riskay and taken out of the performance that aired. The Smothers, whose show he was on, then went to the press upset that this song was banned. After much coverage, he was invited back and performed the song on television again.

This video was also played and I want to find some more Elizabeth Cotten music.

Lazy legs.

2009-02-10T20:36:00.000-08:00

It seems as though my workplace has become the general area where I run into friends -- both old and new. And randoms -- both old and new.

I was also "bagging" lunches today when who do I see? This ginger that I worked with at my first job. I immediately recognized him, I can spot anyone in a crowd (tis a gift) and then blurted out "You worked at Rainbow Cinemas!"

He began to blush a little and seemed to squint his eyes, taking a closer look at me. "Yes, and now I remember you," he said. We both kind of laughed, I put his noodles in a bag and provided him with cutlery.

I am also wondering what to do about my napping problem. I mean, it's nice, but I have to shorten my sleeping time. Four hours after work leaves me grumpy and disoriented when 9pm comes along. I have two alarm clocks, but I fall into really deep sleeps. I also have a tendency to sleep sideways, which means that I am not fun to sleep beside.

I am living with my aunt right now and I have a single bed in the spare bedroom. I have fallen out of this bed. And I have come close to falling out at least twice per week. As I kid, my parents bought me a futon and then a double! What am I supposed to do. My body has been trained to stretch!

Bara boom bara bing.

Anyways, I also cut my hair this week, BUT DON'T WORRY NOT THE RATTAIL.

My youtube choice of the day is for Ms. Victoria. She got me into this band and would enjoy viewing a little Lux Interior RIP(also, I'm excited to see Notorious on Monday).

radical polymerization.

2009-02-07T09:44:00.000-08:00

You're in the washroom. You're wearing a pair that you just bought that very day. You thought they would last the rest of the night.

Then! BAM! RUN! I hate nylons. No matter how delicately I try to pull them up they always tear.

Based on my frustration I decided to research the history of my little torn friend. Would it be friends -- nylons do have two legs.

Apparently, some form of stocking goes as far back as the 1500s. Ancient greek workers wore a form of hosiery and the Romans even had some sort of foot covering.

Cuuurazzzy.

Anywho, let's skip over to the 30s, when Julian Hill created a silky fiber known as nylon. Hill was manic depressive and killed himself, but Dr. Wallace Hume Carothers (his boss) continued working on nylons and in 1935 the material was perfected.

This material, which was originally used for toothbrush bristles and fishing line, was patented in 1937 and premiered at the New York World Fair in 1939.
Skip to the 40s and nylons were available nationwide. Women loved nylons! No bunching, just sweet sweet comfort. What's interesting is that although nylons were quite popular, they became difficult to find during World War 2 because the material was needed for things such as parachutes and tires.

Imagine a black market for nylons?
That's what I picture. Some crazy man with a pipe delivering underground nylons to a rich woman who can't live without her pantyhose -- ps I hate that word.

Anywho, women are wearing and loving their nylons, which remember, only cover half of their legs. But then in 1965 there comes along Glen Raven Mills who invents a pair of nylons where the underpants and stockings are put together into one snazzy garment. Genius.

Sidenote: This invention coincided with the introduction of the miniskirt -- who knew. As ladies' hemlines rose and the miniskirt became the it piece of clothing, stockings could not be worn without showing off ones garter, which pushed women into the direction of tights.

Pretty interesting, is what I would say if I had the opportunity to meet the inventors of nylon.

But seriously, can someone else invent a pair that don't tare. I know the old clear nail polish trick, in which the run is stopped by the polish, but really, I want a pair that I can wear for longer than one night!

My thumbs are cut.

2009-02-02T21:39:00.000-08:00

Twas a lovely day today.

I walked from Yonge and Bloor all the way to Dundas West station. It took me about an hour, but it was nice to walk outside and feel the fresh air.
SIDE NOTE: I work underground.
SIDE NOTE: I rarely see the sunshine.
SIDE NOTE: My skin has never been so dry.
SIDE NOTE: I start very early in the morning and therefore am never outside, except for Monday night coffee!

Sunshine lollipops and! Meh, the weather wasn't that nice, therefore I don't think I can allow myself to sing that song just yet.

Back to the walk, twas lovely. I listened to a mixture of tunes, a little Richard Hell here, a little Lykki Li there, a little Muddy Waters, and of course, Sonny and Cher.

I have also become accustomed to taking naps every day. As a child, I would laugh at naps, in fact, I despised them. "Why have a nap when you can just sleep two hours from now?" said Jasmyn to her family. "Why close those eyes, when they're still meant to be open" said Jasmyn to herself. "We've got some apple, purple stuff, and uh, Sunny D!"

I really enjoyed the Sunnny D commercial as a kid. That line will forever be etched into my 90s born and raised brain. But what I hated was Sugar Crips.That weird cheetah character that was supposed to make me want that cereal, his voice had a swagger that a child would find boring. I view Sugar Crips as something that can be compared to raison danishes -- they're for old people. They don't look appetizing, they have weird colouring (beige, brown, mauve), I consider those old people colours.

Not that I'm hating on old people. I think they're amazing and I have been called a grandma since the tender age of 15-years. Our elders grew up during a time when people looked snazzy all the time, which is ultimate bad-assery.

But kids just want rainbows, kool-aid and dance-a-thons.

We have the same initials.

2009-01-28T17:25:00.000-08:00

I also would love to wear a cape.

Peripheral vascular disease.

2009-01-27T21:38:00.000-08:00

Lack of feeling in your toes gettin ya down?
Can't quite understand why your fingers are frozen?

You've got poor circulation! But for 3 easy payments, you can rid yourself of all uncomfortable moments. Someone please buy me one of these amazing things.

As I side note, this commercial made me realize that I too can create a successful invention. And so, I will try and pitch the nose plug in the next year. My cousin and I came up with this invention when we were kids. You know when you're sick and you have to stick kleenex up your nose while your sleeping as to avoid the crusty aftermath -- ah getting a little risky with this dirty talk -- well we thought we should create nose plugs.

The plug could be custom made, whatever pattern you enjoy, whatever smell you desire.

Noseplug: The snug tug for those loose and lazy buggers.

Braid Me.

2009-01-26T15:41:00.000-08:00

Rat tails.

I think they're great in a uglyeautiful kind of way.
I am growing my annual rat tail longer than it has even been. Every year I cut the sides of my curly locks off and keep a little braid growing, but every year I chop my dangling friend off and send it to the farm -- of hardknocks.

This year, I refuse to cut it, even if the common consensus amongst my compadre's is that it is ugly. As I like to say, you can take the ratail off of the person, but you can't take the rat tail out of the person.

Popular in suburbia during much of the late 80s and early 90s, the rat tail was often found on younger male cousins and brothers. It was often accompanied by a Ninja Turtle top, a blondish mushroom cut and perhaps a pair of flourescent/neon coloured bicycle shorts.

Peering out of the back, the rat tail was a status symbol. You were an awesome kid, who had awesome hair. You had all the right moves and were definitely the babe on the street.

I only hope that I can exude such an amazing persona when my rat is complete (some time in the spring). I am going to try and donate it at the end of this journey, but we'll see if the rat tail will be accepted.

Shake it (the rat tail):

yo guy.

2009-01-23T16:14:00.000-08:00

This week in grandma jazz news:

My mom sang Beyonce's song over the phone to me. "If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it." She then asked if I had heard the album, because she's down with it and I am not.

A homeless man asked if I had spare change. I said no and he then asked if he could have my number.

Picassio played our first show! <

Bad ass.

bad ass.

Damn the TTC

2009-01-19T19:42:00.001-08:00

Never thought I could say that I rode the poll for an hour.

As I hugged that long silver rod, my fingers became hardened and numb. Then I noticed my neighbour, looking slightly in pain, having to switch from left to right arm every 20 minutes or so because of exhaustion. We looked awkward, but we had no choice, the TTC subway line was shut down, and we were on a shuttle bus that would run from Jane station east to St. George.

On Thursday night, as many as 250,000 residents lost hydro and the subway line was shut down from Spadina through to Jane station. This left me and thousands of other people feeling stranded at the stations. On Friday morning I was at Jane with at least 400 angry and freezing TTC riders.

At 8am I left the house. I knew I was about to enter the warzone, so I wrapped a black scarf around my head, engulfing my face so that the wind-chill would not affect my bare skin. I then placed my beige faux fur hate on top of the mountain, hoping I would have ample amount of protection from the -30 degree weather. I then slid on my leather gloves and walked down Jane Street to the station. Sliding along the icy sidewalk, I could see a line of buses waiting to turn into the bursting station. I had hoped that most passengers would opt out of travelling to work so that they could watch Ellen or Tyra, but as I heard the honking of horns and saw cars making U-turns in order to avoid the corruption, I knew that my thoughts were a fantasy.

As I hesitantly stumbled to my destination, I turned the corner onto the platform.
It looked like a concert. In front of me were hundred of fans waiting for their favourite rock star, the TTC bus and its driver, to get on stage. Some were bewildered, looking around at the crowd not knowing where to go or what to do. Others were filled with emotion, either ready to scream or ready to walk back home -- no matter how long it might take. Then I saw a TTC worker, a middle-aged man with a rounded belly whose eyes were lined with tired wrinkles that signified his long morning. A woman with a long purple coat, whose face was masked by a scarf and hat, began to yell at him, saying she had to get to work. He apologized, and said that he too wished the subways were up. I knew he was sincere, and at that point I felt more sympathetic for him than the flustered woman.

I felt bad for the police officers, with their florescent yellow jackets, and the TTC drivers, with their maroon coats. They were in ugly, bright uniforms, which made them easy-to-spot targets. As I watched various officials try and handle the overwhelming situation, I caught myself taking part in the collective squinters group, those who wished their eyes were darts that would shoot and hit authority in their pot-bellied stomachs. Under hypnosis, I shook off my anger and walked away from the scene of over-heated kettles and decided my next move would be to get on a bus. Mission, let’s get to work.

It was now 8:30am and I was accompanied by a whole new group of bundled strangers. We TTC riders looked like a pan of scrambled eggs. Shaking and shrugging, moving forwards and then back as the police officer yelled that buses would be filing along the brick wall in order to get people on their way. As I stood their in silence, I thought about the logistics of this set up. Was their no mega phone hidden in the forbidden TTC booth or the trunk of a police car? He looked like he was about to burst as his purple cheeks spit out words that warned people not to get too close to the buses. I couldn’t blame him for the discretion, one driver, who looked like he was recently hired, maybe 24-years-old, had a face of terror. He accidentally opened his doors without listening to instruction and looked like he was about to faint when the elder TTC man told him that he made a mistake. I stood far back after seeing his face of terror as he then slid along the pavement, staring at his side mirror probably hoping that he would not then scrape the wall.

It was now 8:45am, and I was about 4 people deep in the combustion that never seemed to get smaller. I knew that I was already late for work, as I had texted my manager, but I had to get to my job before the lunch-hour rush. I started moving up, pressed against the backs of strangers, feeling bones of others pricking my knee caps and elbows. I hate crowds on the TTC more than anything, but I just looked forward and ignored my invasion of privacy so that I could get on the next bus.

Then it arrived, the hybrid that was to take me and others to work. It opened its doors and the pushing began. Like a school of fish our feet fluttered along the ground, wiggling into the small opening as the doors swayed while being hit by those who forced themselves on the bus. With my head down I jumped on the steps and sighed with relief, as if I had reached the top of the mountain, or completed the final exam for a difficult class.

I rushed to the back of the bus, eyeing one vacant seat, but another woman saw it as well and bet me to the spot. I then saw a pole in the back left corner and grabbed it with both of my hands. With my back slumped over because of a lack of room, I gripped the slender beam and let my head gently rest upon the side, of course letting my scarf be the barrier between the pole and my face. Who knows what kind of bacteria was on that thing before I was on my hour-long shuttle bus ride.

TTC, the better way.

Back to back.

2009-01-15T18:34:00.001-08:00

I wish more people performed like Song and Cher -- the acting, the outfits/hair and of course, the song.

Cher was really bad-ass, and I highly suggest that you listen to her early solo music.

My Legs are Hurting.

2009-01-13T15:35:00.001-08:00

I have been home for an hour.
It's been swell, but post-work pain causes some imbalance.

A) Feet: They're as heavy as bricks, but not the nice red bricks, the ones that have been stacked on top of eachother by someone like me (who has no idea what they're doing). They're supposed to give me support, but instead they sink into the ground murmuring, tumbling, and possibly mummmmmbling things like, "mmhhhmm, stop wearing second-hand boots you douche-bag."

B) Legs : My outer thighs have a tendency to tingle like tinkerbell. I watched Hook the night before Christmas, Christmas Eve as the youngins call it, therefore that reference to the 1990s classic makes perfect sense in my brain. But back to tinkerbell legs, imagine if that "little bugger" was poking your outer thighs with a stick, or maybe a wand, that's kind of how my legs feel. They sting, yet they flutter, tis a strange feeling after working on a tiled floor all day.

C) Stomach: I must say that working at a place that sells food proves to be quite rewarding for this part of my body. It's as though I enter a trance when I walk through the shiny black door.
I have never craved Asian noodles, nor have I have found it imperative that I eat a chicken club sandwich, and yet this is what I think I want when I enter the store. Damn my cursed cravings.

Side note: I have recently become quite sick of most things we offer to the good ol customers.

D) Head: Tis funny that my head landed on the letter "D." Not that it's a failure, my head is just in a state where it can relate to a paper marked with the letter D. You see, a D signifies that you're close to failing, but you've gotten away with being a bit of a smart-ass and have somehow passed. That's kind of how I got through most of university, but now I just feel like my brain is useless while not in school. Working full-time is great because I don't have to worry about essays and all the jazz, but then I start to worry about whether or not "Would you like that on the grill?" Will be the only thing that I say over the next few years, I start to woooorrryy.

After this close look at my parts, I hope that the recession gives me a chance.

bananas and bread,

Jasmyn

Remember Live Journal?

2009-01-12T20:05:00.001-08:00

I had a Live Journal many years ago and decided to read it again -- it was pretty funny. Well, my brain was pretty funny. In the year 2004, I was hyperactive -- that's kind of what I took away from reading what I spoke about on that blog. Anywho, whenever I have a job interview they have ask if I have a blog. I respond saying no, and then cowardly crawl back into my "I don't know about the Internet," hole.

But tonight, my compadre's, Jasmynder's documentation of the jazz-world begins again. Expect it to be like an episode of the Cosby Show. Minus Dr Huxstable, a slew of 80s children, and well, married life in general. That being said, I thought a funny piece to begin this shit would be about something I wrote about a while back.

AND IT GOES A LITTLE SUMMIN LIKE THIS.

This is titled: Botton on Botton

Think of your childhood. Starting 5, 4, 3, 2,1, now...
Now I want you to pretend you are enjoying the sweet sweaty times that recess brought to your little youthful souls. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, now...
And now invision your awkward, puberty stricken legs and try and remember what was on them. 5, 4, 3, 2 ,1, .now...

This is the story of the oh-so-comfortable and oh-so-convenient tearaway pants. Having bought a pair when I was an athlete, yes it's true, I must say that those bad-ass pants were a genius idea.

All that sweet wearing, and then tearing, and then sharing, and never caring. I f they were dirty, you could rip them off. If they were annoying your heated legs, you could rip them off. If you wanted to get even with a bully. You could rip them off.

Button upon button upon button upon button.

The tearaway was not just a fad, it was an event. Everyone had them. If you were middle to upper class, you had the Adidas ones. If you were lower class or had parents that said, "Jasmyn, you grow 2 inches every two days. You're 5'3 and you're only 9-years-old. So no, you are not about to get some brandname bullshit," then you had the two stripes running along the side. Regardless, it was a must to have tearaways.

Problem was, sometimes, after some time had passed and those buttons had been pulled apart, there came a "situation." Those goddamn pants would tear when you didnt want them to tear. They would fall off when you didnt want them to fall off. And worst of all, it was impossible to fix those crazy rusted buttons upon buttons upon buttons.
But hey, who ever said that fashion meant no problems.
Mo tearaways mo problems