sugarpunfairy

For the last month or so, I've been working for the Foodroots Co-op, which runs a bunch of little organic markets around town. It started with the one in Vic West around the corner from Solstice Cafe, and now there's about 8. I'm working at two - one on Tuesdays in the lobby of the Ministry of Recreation and other stuff on Johnson, and one on Thursdays at the Ministry of Agriculture and blah blah on Thursdays. I'm really enjoying it - it's a tiring day, but good tiring and good exercise. I load and unload produce in and out of vans all morning. Then, sweaty and disheveled, I sell it to government workers, most of whom are very friendly and pleased to have their own workplace market. I watch them go back and forth through the lobby, wearing pantyhose and carrying palm pilots, and kinda feel sorry for them even though they're probably making more than twice what I am. But I get to smell produce all day and chat with the security people. Smelling all the stuff is making me very happy, and it's making me eat better. By the time I'm all set up, I'm usually famished and ready to proposition all of the fruit and most of the vegetables. I'm trying not to buy more than I'll realistically eat, but some of it is tempting to get just to look at. Multi-coloured radishes, downright sexy heads of lettuce, salad greens with rose petals, and basil so fragrant the whole lobby smells every time I bag some. Today we had strawberries for the first time. I am seriously not exaggerating when I say they are orgasmically fabulous. I bought a flat. I had to make myself freeze some right away before I ate them all.

Besides rambling, part of the point of this post was to ask if anyone knows anyone who might be interested in some part time employment. Foodroots needs some people to do what I do, setting up and selling at the markets. It involves lifting. They also need someone to drive the big refrigerated van they just bought. It's big, like a U-Haul cargo van, and longer than a standard van. That would involve picking up stuff at farms, and driving stuff to markets, probably two days a week. Let me know if you know any one with driving experience! My boss asked if I was interested and when I stopped laughing, I said, "You really don't want me driving that thing." Seriously. Most of you have driven with me. And seen me try to parallel park my van. You know what I mean.

I've got to hand it to girly girls. Or anyone who spends a lot of time/effort on clothes and other grooming apparati. I just got back from shopping for an outfit for tomorrow night. Yes, I left it to the last minute..as usual. But I'm done! The girl in the store assured me it looked ok, so if I look like a tool, just don't tell me. Or do. But maybe after the party. I was even considering getting some tinted lip gloss or something, but that proved to be too much, and I had to flee the mall and reward myself with a blended coffee drink.
I know I'm not exactly a tomboy, but I think I'm just too damn lazy to be femmey.
Christ Almighty. Three hours! Three hours looking at clothes. And trying shit on! My mom would be thrilled that I did this under my own volition.

Ok, I don't REALLY want anyone to get run down at a farmer's market. That was just the flu and the aggravation of the latest market fight talking. Watch for disgruntled soap vendors next week!
I am feeling a lot better, but frustratingly my stomach doesn't entirely agree. I thought I was all better yesterday, and child-squatted with CM and ate pizza, and happily the pizza stayed where it was supposed to, at least until I got home...
I'm in that annoying part of the flu where I think I'm better, and my appetite thinks I'm better, but my digestive system doesn't. And I'm really dizzy, but that's probably just because of the inability to eat anything. And I'm really HUNGRY. I've been daydreaming about flour tortillas, and blueberries, and ice cream, and pakoras, and and and
Anyway, I'm also a wee bit stir crazy. If you can't tell. AND I'm missing Beltaine.
AND I'm whining incredibly.
but, I came up with a great joke last night, carrying Soleia around, after she burped in my face after her third bottle of formula: "This baby doesn't just have formula breath - she has Formula 1 breath!"
Or how about crepes! with blueberries, and whipped cream.......anyone wanna do brunch tomorrow? Either I'll be better or I'll turn white and go home directly after eating.

On Southpark just now, 9 people were run down at a Farmer's Market by an elderly woman. When Cartman is chastised for being insensitive about the deaths, he says "So what!? Like 8 of them were hippies. Only hippies go to Farmer's Markets."
And I LAUGHED and LAUGHED.
And, there are these stupid commercials for phone-dating services. These scantily clad women flop around and talk about what a great time they have on whatever-line. Annoying enough, but on this one, the woman is clearly trying on jeans in a change room while she's on a phone "date." At first I thought, "gee, she has a lot of jeans" and then "gee, who has a curtain like that in their room?" and then "who has a room with a curtain in their house solely devoted to jeans?" But the jeans have price tags on them! What kind of message is that? These ladies are so not into you, they won't even stop shopping to have a date? Aren't there people outside the change room waiting, getting pissed off as this chick flirts on her cellphone for an hour? Won't the retail staff come in and kick her out eventually? IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE.
I'm sorry. I have the flu. My intestines hate me.

There's nothing like having a bit of a fever to bring on the weird-ass dreams. Last night I dreamt that I was a man in my sixties or seventies, who had developed a infatuation with a woman who lived in my neighbourhood with her mother. The woman was about my age, so her mother was in her nineties. The woman had severe health problems, and I think was developmentally disabled. It was hard to tell whether I was romantically interested in the woman, or if I had some idea of saving her from her domineering mother. Often when I'm someone other than myself in dreams, I don't have total knowledge of what I'm thinking, what my motives are.
So, my old man character would see this woman and her mother walking to and from their various activities everyday, and would try to talk to the woman, with the disapproving mother looking on. The mother was very, very short, and kind of looked like the grandmother in Triplets of Belleville, but not so benevolent. One week, the women don't appear for a few days, and I hear that the daughter is ill. After a few days, I decide to go visit them, and take them a cake. I think I have some idea of taking the woman to hospital if the mother isn't looking after her well. I run into the mother in the lobby of the huge apartment building they live in, and she scowls at me, and scoots away, sitting backwards in a wheelchair. I get into the elevator - the floor menu is weird - it goes: 1-1, 1-2, 1-3, through to 1-11, and so on, up to at least 4-11. So, there are way more floors than I originally thought, and I'm nervous because it goes really fast and makes odd noises, and the whole trip takes a long time. I have a recurring thing in dreams where I'm nervous in elevators, and they take what seems like too long to get to my destination.
So, after a long trip in the weird elevator, I get out on the women's floor. There is a lobby area, where a bunch of elderly people are sitting around on couches and chairs. The lobby is very bland, all in off-white shades. The people there tell me that the woman is very sick, and they haven't seen her or her mother for a few days. I go to knock on their door, and the mother opens it, coming out to put a notice on her door, which says her daughter has died, and giving the details of her funeral. I'm very upset, but the mother won't talk to me. With coaxing from the other people, she comes out and reads the notice about how the woman died, etc. I'm trying to listen, but this other woman keeps getting in my face and offering me coffee, talking over the mother. The mother goes back in her apartment, and I stay sitting in the lobby.
After a few minutes, Kirsten Dunst's character from Spiderman comes into the lobby, and I realize that this is also Spiderman's apartment building, and she is going to visit him. The other elderly people ask her how she is, and she says it's her birthday, but Spiderman has forgotten. Typical distracted superhero.
I decide to leave, and take the stairs this time, even though this means going down at least 44 flights. There is a large volume of Tolstoy on the stairs, and I have to move it to get down. As I'm bending down to move it, one of the people in the lobby accidentally knocks a phone book off the stair rail, and it barely misses my head. At this point, I've turned back into myself, but quickly become a woman in her sixties.
I start down the stairs, and the staircase gets narrower and narrower, and the ceiling gets lower, so I have to crawl. Kirsten Dunst comes along, and is kinda bitchy trying to get by me. Suddenly, the whole stairwell detaches from the building, and turns into a huge stomping robot vehicle thing. So I'm stomping around the neighbourhood in a huge staircase robot, with a bitchy Kirsten Dunst. I ask her if she knows how to drive this robot, and she says no, she doesn't know how to drive. I realize that I don't either, and that it is 1956.
Eventually the robot crashes into someone's hedge, and we manage to slither out of the robot. At this point, the whole thing morphs into a dream about shopping with my sister for cat food and magazines to take to my great aunt.

Follow these steps in order:

1. Go to www.google.com.

2. Click on MAPS.

3. Click on GET DIRECTIONS.

4. Go from "New York" to "Paris, France".

5. Scroll down in the directions list to number 23.

Dear Spam,

No! I do not have trouble getting and keeping an erection. I DO NOT HAVE A PENIS!

Thank you,
spf

ok, so someone else had the audacity to take Jesus Christ, Vampire Hunter out this week, and it's overdue! I would be shocked if I had ever returned a movie on time myself. As of now, it's still not back, but I have high hopes, as I drove the Pic-a-Flic lady to call the people and ask them to bring it back, because some crazy girl keeps calling about it.
Watch this space for further updates! or we might just have to watch another movie.