Working for a Living, huh...Imagine That?

This weekend I signed up to do an upholstery class. I have a chair from my grandparents' basement that I love muchly...but so do moths. And my oh my, they have had their way with it...

There is nothing so terrifying to me as the prospect of a moth invasion...except a cockroach invasion. It's the horror of knowing that if you see 1 = 10,000 you can't see...!

Love meeeeeeee...!

Stay away, moth-chair!

So, once a moth infestation was uncovered, I bagged that chair in plastic drop cloths and mothballs. But mothballs smell bad. Really bad. Like, I'm-going-to-throw-up-and-I-can't-sleep bad... So I started looking into getting it reupholstered.


It's turns out that shit is expensive. The average quote was $550 for labour, and an estimated $300 for materials. And they quoted fabric as $50-$70 a yard (3.5 yards for the chair).

This was...unappealing.

So by the power of greyskull google, I found Re:Style Studio. They offer a "Bring Your Own Piece" upholstery workshop for $225, plus cost of foam etc (cost me $67). You need to bring your own fabric, but I was able to find what I wanted for $12.99/yard instead of $50-$70/yard...much preferable.



After roughly 16 hours of labour, I birthed a whole new chair into the world.

Me gustaaaaaaaaa

My hands ached, my arms ached, my back ached, hell, even the arches of my feet hurt. This was WORK. Suddenly I realized what "working for a living" was actually supposed to mean. I feel like an asshole when I say "I'm going to work!" and I sit at a desk all day, broken only by walking to the kitchen for coffee...coffee I don't even grind.

I hate sitting, immobile, for hours on end. Give me a job swinging a hammer, or ripping out staples any day! How can you put any feeling of accomplishment on sitting on your ass, tapping at a keyboard? There's no physical product for the work I do, one flood in the office and everything I've ever worked on would disappear. It's all immaterial.

Maybe there's something to be said for a hard day's work, and the satisfaction of holding something you made in your hands...hell, I guess that's why trailer trash have so many babies...it's an easy way to feel like you've contributed...

But how the hell would I make money redoing chairs? The cost of studio space alone (at $3/sq ft you're doing well), and the cost of equipment would be killer...

But maybe, somewhere in my future is a little workshop, shared with friends, a happy dog, and piles of tools and half-finished projects.


Yea, I like that. Hell, it'd barely even be work. ^_^

The Friday Series! The Last Installment!

My friends,

We have come to the end of the Friday Series. I have a week to come up with something as wonderful as Marrissa Radley-Bean...I'll do my bestest to some up with something ...

Ha.


But in all seriousness, maybe I will provide you with a something that is poorly drawn by me. That's tantalizing, right? RIGHT? o_0


Well, in the meantime, here are some baby cakes...(what the hell were you thinking, world?!)

And on that note, I happily present to you...The final installment in the diary of Marrissa Radley-Bean:

Idiots!

I apologize for the lack of a "real" post today... I have been busy organizing to take an upholstery class...Oh, and I'm also preparing to pitch my tv series...so that's been a bit involved.

BUT, I don't want to leave you out in the cold interwebs with nothing to entertain you...so here is a documentary on stupidity. It's a joint CBC/BBC/NFB project, so it even falls under Canadian content!

Hoo-rah!

Dear 11yr Old Me...What the Hell is Wrong With You?!

So I came across my year book from grade 6.

Now, aside from the stylish gender-neutral haircut I'm sporting, I am also wearing an oversize t-shirt with a horse on it. The colours are all faded to tones of tan and beige on a white background. You could say that it was Provencal style.

But that would be a lie.


What it actually is, is a snapshot of a child who was weird and had no sense of style. A kid who I know everything about, but feel very disconnected to...because now I am a style queen who gets invited to ALL the parties...!

 No. That's also a lie.


But it is weird to share the same memories, experiences, and body as someone I feel completely disconnected to. For example, in the text of my Grade 6 year book I list my future career as: "Being on MadTV". Ok, not bad...except I also added: "...or working for the FBI."

Woah there Agent Scully. Working for the FBI is paper work. Not chasing aliens.


It gets worse.


I list my favourite movie as, get this... The First Wives Club.

I have no explanation for this, I assume I was momentarily insane.


...Well, I was probably so petrified of being MORE picked on than I already was, that I copied off another kid... because as everybody knows, my favourite film back then was Tank Girl.

But it did make me reflect on who I had been, and who I currently am...then made me fear about who I will be... I don't think anybody intends to grow up to be an asshole...but, well...look around.

It's like watching a colour change, it's a subtle process slowly over time...that results in a product so different from the original it's almost unrecognizable. I remember one scene in Waking Life that really stuck out to 16yr old hippy-Claire:

I guess this means the story I can tell to connect myself to 11 yr old me is something along the lines of: "This was me when I wanted to fit in, but had no idea how to, but then I grew up and discovered that fitting in was lame."


I also take solace in the fact that I'm physically only the last 7yrs worth of cells. So I'm free of all of high school's bad choices, but stuck with the bad choices from university for at least 2 more years...sigh.


In any case, here's a grim vision of the possible future Claire:

Bad Poems for Those Working on a Holiday Monday

Hail, Companions! Some poems to enrich and colour your day!

Mmm, yes. Quite.

Haiku for Working on Easter Monday :

Optional day off
This should never be a thing
Seriously, fuck.






On Working For Others

I feel like my work-life balance is all wrong for the rewards I am reaping.
Please understand,
Although collation of your receipts is a necessary task,
I lack the enthusiasm I ought to have.
Or so you tell me.

A day off might improve moral,
Oh...
We just had three, you kindly remind.
Perhaps the ennui could be conquered with a raise?
No, of course, I was only joking.







Haiku for Co-workers

Please stop. I beg you.
I cannot be your mother.
Wash your own dishes

Aren't you a grown up?
Have you never cleaned a cup?
I swear, I'll kill you.









Limerick for the Unemployed

There once was a girl from Toronto,
Who could fix many problems, like, pronto
But finding a job,
proved to be hard
'Twas a task that was hard to get onto

The Fine Art of Surfing the Net on The Clock



I have mastered the art of the minimize.
Command-H, my salvation and true love.
How deftly my fingers trace your form,
Working in tandem to hide Reddit and YouTube from prying eyes.


Damn gurl, you fine.







Ode to a Job that is Both Financially and Intellectually Unsatisfying

O! Each day I awaken to the prospect of you.
Looming, all-consuming.
You task me.
I return, for I must,
If only in trust,
Of a paycheck, on alternate Fridays.








Browsing Pinterest at Work

I feel this is only depressing me.
Presenting that which I cannot afford, nor craft
With my money, or free-time allotted.

I suppose I should hate you
But forgiveness is a virtue...
Aw, fuck it. Put a bird on it.*

*only relevant to hipsters.







And a final haiku, because I love shitty haikus so very very much...

Flirting with a Mid-Morning Snack

I see you cupcake
Hiding in the office fridge
Soon you will be mine

We rode together
In my bicycle, flying
Did you guess your fate?

Your death's not empty
Deftly ending hunger pains
Chocolate-iced Jesus.

Ah Doo Wut Ah WANT!

So, apparently I'm an adult now... This means I get to what I want. This the time I have waited for all my childhood... I am now, completely and truly, the boss of me.


And what do I do with this new found power? What great feats do I set out for myself every day?


Well...today I was still feeling sick...so I had ice cream for breakfast.

Borrowed lovingly from hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com

As I sat on the sofa, watching an episode of 16 & Pregnant, I ate my cookie dough ice cream, and I thought to myself..."Ahhhh, adulthood...the power to do whatever I want to!"

And then I caught a reflection of myself in the spoon and I felt a little bit ashamed...but then I ate some cookie dough, and I felt better.

...

Look, no one prepares you for actually being an adult. I always kind of imagined that at 18 your brain would just click and suddenly you would be responsible, you'd make the right choices, and you certainly wouldn't live out scenes from Home Alone...

 But you don't. Or rather, you know the choices you make are odd..."wrong" even (if you want to get all preachy about laziness...jerk), and then you realize YOU HAVE THE POWER TO DO IT ANYWAYS, AND NO ONE CAN TELL YOU NOT TO!!!!



Moments of questioning my adulthood:

• While dancing with the cat.
• While dancing with the cat while unclothed (for the brave)
• After playing video games for over 4 hrs in one day (did I say 4? I meant 6 8 9... :( I am full of shame)
• Caught serenading the cat(s)
• While watching Jersey Shore/Teen Mom/16 & Pregnant
• After eating pizza chinese food bbq candy ice cream for breakfast
• After any night of more than 4 drinks...
• Singing Weird Al in karaoke...also, doing karaoke...
• When getting fired up about Michael Bay destroying the Ninja Turtles
• When choosing not to eat because cooking is hard
• When eating poutine at 3am
• When eating poutine with perogies as a garnish
• I seriously consider sneaking into movies at age 26... 0_o
• When I consider how much of my clothing has either a skull or a series of stripes...
• Reflecting on how funny poop jokes are. No. Seriously.
• When I ask my husband "Would still love me if I had no face? No arms? Voted for Rob Ford?"

...This is the big secret that you get in on when you become an adult...there's no such thing as adulthood...We're all the same idiots we were before, but now we can do all the stupid things we want with impunity...



:D



Hot damn!

Nope. And now I'm gonna eat gummy bears and bacon for breakfast!

Stop Everything!!!! ...Someone is Lying on the Internet!

I've been home sick. Nursing my sinus pain with neocitran and self pity. And during one of my less miserable periods, I surfed some internet tubes...

90s'd!

During these internet romps, I discovered a horrible truth...PEOPLE ARE LYING ONLINE. Yes my friends, it is true. There are dozens, nay hundreds, nay millions of people online telling lies...

They range from the smallest white lie on a dating site about weight, or height, or favourite breakfast food...all the way through to MP Vic Toews swearing up and down that Bill C-30 isn't a gross invasion of privacy.

I'm a big Reddit fan...but I got quite the wake up call about the ease of lying to an unseen audience when I came across an inventive re-telling of an event that I had personally been present at. The story was exactly that...a story. A complete fiction with elements of truthiness to it, and coupled with a gifted storyteller, to many readers, it rang true.

...I was...displeased, to say the least.

I was lucky enough to have finished high school before texting, or myspace, or social media was around. I didn't have to worry about weird bullies making up lies about myself, or people I know on the interwebs...Of course, the downside is I have absolutely no coping skills for this situation now...


...AND I AM MAD.


Well, so what? There is no recourse, no cyber police, and lord knows I don't want to get drawn into an internet shitstorm... So I have to walk away.

It's not a great feeling, to know that someone can type away at a keyboard and fantasize about the past, changing names and face. Details and events. But it's the way it is. And at first I was really mad, but then I thought...


...Maybe that's part of the magic of the internet...? It allows people to live out their fantasies. Now that sad forever-alone can live out any fantasy they wish, and no one will be the wiser...hell, if they're a good enough story teller they may even get cheered on and have some semblance of self esteem!

You bet 'I do'!!!

Do you take this night elf to be your lawfully wedded elf?

Sure, this guy's story was a complete fabrication, crafted to ease the pain of being a chronic third wheel, whose constant financially-motivated temper tantrums finally stopped working... It helps to ease his pain of being rejected, and gives him an excuse to blame his friends for his own lack of adult skills. And let's be honest folks, nobody likes accepting blame...

This forum for spewing fantasy gives an outlet to those who are removed or isolated from social interaction...to those unable to reach their fellow humans in a meaningful way. It lets them, in some sad way, feel normal.


Which they aren't.



But hey, without the false sense of anonymity the internet provide, we'd never get treasures like star wars kid, or chocolate rain! So, you wanna lie? Go nuts. The internet needs some more kooks for its meme-machine.

You_got_it