And Now We're Sexy!

Much to my chagrin, I have become an adult. I spend several hours of my day in a cramped cubicle doing work that I detest. I fret over botched service and poor customer care. I juggle more bills and accounts than any sensible person would bother with. I'm disgustingly adult. Hell, I'm even the type of adult that disgusts me most. I'm unbelievably caught up in the capitalist way of life and, as should be expected, it sucks the life and soul out of me little by little. I need to remind myself of the beauty in life. I need to not simply reminisce about the things that bring me pleasure, but to seek them out. I need to make closer note of the things that amuse me. I'm convinced that if I simply pay more attention to what I enjoy than what I dislike, I will eventually lose this negative energy that stalks me so incessantly. Show them my motto!

Retrograde Motion

They say that once every two years or so Mars starts moving in the opposite direction of its normal orbit for about two months. Apparently this happens to, or will happen to, every planet at some point. They - not necessarily the same they, but a they nonetheless - say that the Qur'an or Sharia or something to that effect states that some day the Sun will rise in the west until god wills it to do otherwise. They, yet another they, told me yet again that I would have phone service this evening, and they were erroneous in this claim. In fact, I actually have less phone service than before. I now have to use a payphone to harass them. Do all of these wildly unreliable claims Sarah a skeptic make? I doubt it. It seems god was telling the truth. The world is going backwards. For instance, I thought I would move up in the world by getting a job that would actually compensate me for my efforts. Very Marxist commodified wage-labour, I know, but what's a girl to do? Turns out I was wrong. At said movin' on up job, I actually work more and get less in return than I did at my previous slave-labour employment. Perhaps it's just me. Note to self: check that knees are still facing forward and toes are still intact. Perhaps I have gone the way of the witches.

They've Monkeyed Up Your Jumpers

So says James, the telephone technician. He had to phone two people from Nathalie's room in order to determine that my jumpers had been monkeyed. One was apparently named Quick, and the other was named Inna. Note: yes, indeed, this did immediately remind me of Inna Pesina, and subsequently Snenena, but we shall discuss Eastern Europeans at a later date. Unfortunately, it is not absolutely certain that my jumpers have been monkeyed, and since Bell Canada and 100 Thomas More are closed for the evening, I am screwed-o, out of phone service until at least tomorrow at 9:00, when my newly reclaimed phone service will not be enjoyed by me, as I will be at work. Note: coincidentally, I also am severely lacking in all things telephonically related at work. After three weeks I still don't have a phone, an office, a computer password, or a waste-paper basket. As I have discovered that Amanda, my cubicle-neighbour, and I share a telephone number, I have been led to believe that we are to share a phone, which I find quite amusing, as the only thing separating myself from Amanda and her (read: "our") phone is, well, a wall. The day was not, however, a total loss. I befriended a rather comical blind frenchman, and I had some rather excellent strawberry mousse. Congratulations Cynthia, and Chelsea, what do you want for dinner?

Playing with Liars

Ronnie, in reference to the term pistol:
"Personally, I'd love to know how 'thing that is designed to kill people' came to mean 'amusing young person.'"

My brother thinks that one day I will meet a man ("or a woman, because, you know, that would be cool too") who will crack through my sarcastic outer shell and find the soft, sweet, delicate Sarah inside.

• Problem number A) I think my brother may believe that I use sarcasm as a defence mechanism


• Problem part the second) I rather like being sarcastic, and don't particularly want to be cracked


• Problem section III) I continue to let my brother go on thinking that I will one day find this man or woman and turn into a docile kitten eating melty semi-sweet chocolate chips from a china dish painted with buttercups

Sorry Asim, but it's not happening. As much as I'd like to submit myself to the delusion that someone with such knee-compromising powers exists, even if he or she did, I don't think mine are the knees he or she would be compromising. No. Not at all a likelihood. I am, and will likely remain for much of my life, a stalwart sarcastic. If, in fact, I did use sarcasm as a method of self-defence, then I would be open to the change, as sarcasm is a terrible thing to waste on excuses and self-pity. I've realized that I tend to whine and blame-shift more than anything when I feel the need to protect myself; in fact, I lose the advantageous edge that my sarcasm normally affords me in everyday verbal combat. No, my sarcasm is strictly because I like it where it is. It is my sense of humour, my wit, my wiley guise against the less, shall we say 'bright', people in my life. My sarcasm is not something to be cracked or broken or discarded; it is my evil mastermind innate, and the source of a great many of my little pleasures. So Asim, my apologies; I did not mean to dash your hopes of dashing my wits, but it turns out that I don't want to lose an ounce of my sarcasm. And if there does exist some prince or princess charming who could soothe my tempest's tongue, well frankly I don't want to meet him or her.

Shoplifters Will be Persecuted

Note to self: YARR!
It's been another one of those curious sorts of days. Unfortunately not curious enough to constitute the amusingly quizzical type of day that tends to be my favourite. The pharmacist, unfortunately, seems to have injured his neck, and for this I feel great sympathy. I myself have experienced the woes of neck pain, and let me tell you, it's no picnic. I also have the sneaking suspicion that I might secretly be a size small at a few select locations. Curiouser and curiouser.
Postscript: the spell check database returns the "curiouser" query as "carouser". YARR!