Ow Ew Ow

I just had to perform surgery on my own foot using a safety pin. I noticed my foot has been hurting all week, and upon closer speculation, my big toe had a small dark spot, which had to be something embedded in the skin, as it had already grown over it. Yuck. What the hell is it? Must have picked it up from the dance studio, it's the only place where we have to take our socks off. So I take my safety pin and I burrow, and burrow, and burrow with all the unpleasentness of trying to reach something foreign in your foot with a pin. Finally, a sharp prick, and the thing is out. A piece of glass or rock. Great. My day off is already improving. Still groggy from last night, thanks guys for putting up with my antics, which included a sign falling almost on our heads, disturbing the cute laptop guy behind us and demanding to know "what the hell are you writing, some kind of book report?", slurringly lecturing a group of U of T biology students about testing on animals, 3 stolen half pint glasses (which I am going to return tomorrow, I am not a thief!) a really mushy blog post and God knows what other embarrasing things that vodka usually makes me do. In my defense, I haven't felt that good in a loooong time and stood by when everyone else did. So now I'm broke, hungry and hungover. All on my day off. For some reason, I found this comic hysterical and thought I might share it with you guys. Enjoy!

I truly have...

The best boyfriend in the world. I couldn't ask for a more caring, understanding, supportive, intelligent, genuine person. He really is outstanding, which is why I'm dedicating this post to him. Whenever I think all is lost in this cold, disgusting, self indulgent world, I think of him and some balance is repaired in my chaotic universe. I think I love him more than I love anything else, including chocolate. And that's huge. I'm a very, very fortunate person to have someone like him by my side and I only wish that everyone I am close to has the oppourtunity to experience how wonderful a person he is. He's the only thing that makes sense to me, the only thing that is real to me in a world of fakeness. Handsome, I love you so much, thank you for making me yours, whether you wanted to or not :P You're the best boyfriend in the world!
Love Goot.

I hate...

...people who have no respect for lives other than their own. I could say the wealthy, but I know some very nice rich people and that would be wrong to categorize. What makes me want to throw up is when I see people flanked in fur. It's the equivalent of seeing pigeons eating vomit off the sidewalk. I hate people who wear fur, and I CAN categorize people like that because there is no excuse for wearing a dead animal for the sake of "fashion" and it is the most selfish act I can think of. There is no right reason to wear something that was brutally killed for a status. It's really sick and I let them know, whether it's talking next to them or to them about how disgusting it looks. If they come too close, I tell them to back off because I'm allergic to dead carcasses used as clothing. Or I stare unbreakingly at them on the subway. I like watching them shift, becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and then eventually moving to another seat away from me. I try not to do it too much around Randy cause I know he gets embarrased about it. But I think these people need to know that what they are doing is wrong and discourage this hideous trend. Now I'm not a vegan hippy or anything, and many people try to argue the fact that because I eat chicken, I'm a hypocrite, but it's soo completely different. I eat chicken because I need to, since I don't eat any other kind of meat, and I don't wear the feathers like some sort of trophy. People who wear fur, and I'm applying this to EVERYONE who feels they are the most superior species and feel worthy to wear something skinned (sometimes alive) for their luxury, are the most disgusting creatures alive and I deem them on a level lower than cockroaches. And I HATE cockroaches. Ok, rant over. Sorry, it's just that I saw 2 people looking like walking slaughterhouses and my blood is still boiling.

Best Doll Ever!

My co-worker Keith has found the doll replica of me! Well, just my name, and a couple more piercings.
Let me introduce you to Fiona Fatale...

Fiona FataleItem #2038

Awesome-o

Sorry, the last time I tried to post this, I failed miserably and cried myself to sleep. Ok, maybe just failed miserably. So without further adieu, here is the poor guy who has been excellently photoshopped into various hilarious images:
















































































































































































































































































































Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!
More later...

Life alone

Is amazing. I LOVE living on my own and don't know why I didn't do it in the first place. I moved a block away from my old apartment, leaving behind a roommate and fond memories, but it was time to move on and I'm glad I did. So now it's just me, my cat and a couple of cockroaches (which are so damn hard to squish). Life is good. Really good. I hate saying that because this huge feeling of self consciousness comes over me, and I realize things are not so good, and I'm just pushing the bad things away. Ok, pushing... pushing... gone! Bellydancing is AMAZING! It's so much fun! I learned how to make shapes with my boobs, but I don't think that will come in handy for anything practical. I really needed something like this to commit to because outside of work, I need to have a structure of some kind where I know exactly what I'm doing, or else I feel out of control with my life. And the shelter kitchen is closing soon now that winter is over, so my volunteer work is almost done. Which brings me to my next point. I really like volunteering there, I like our guests who eat dinner there, and I like the organizers. But I have a list for the volunteers who make things difficult to get work done. This list is in no particular order, but all are equally annoying:

-If you decide to volunteer, please do not show up in dress clothes. You're not here to hand out muffins with a shiny happy face, you're here to serve, scrub, sweat, mop, wash and help- with a shiny happy face.
-Please do not show up dressed as mentioned above, realize how much work it really is, and then not show up the next week even though you swore you would. It gives us false hope that we will have more help.
-Please (and this is for all the girls from Leaside and other rich cunt areas) do not show up and expect a medal for washing one dish, playing with the aprons, trying to perform an Ashley Simpson dance routine with your slutty friend, and talking about your "amazing" sex life, even though you're only 17 and really have no clue. You're not impressing anyone, just pissing me off. And then you have the nerve to ask why I hate you.
-Please do not comment on the condition of our food or how it relates to what you learned in science class. I don't care if the properties in butter are depleted when it's microwaved, it's for popcorn. For street kids. I really don't think they will miss the properties.
-Please do not expect anyone to treat you like a martyr because you served more plates than someone else, or cleaned up an extra pile of vomit. When you boast and whine and complain when things don't go your way, it really takes away from the volunteer part and makes me think that you are here for more selfish reasons than helping.
-Please do not comment when you see our guests doing things you think are "gross and yucky". I bet you pick your nose too, just not in public. Same goes for those who give them pitiful, sympathetic looks and coo to yourselves. They're not abused kittens, they are people, and you're here to help them; looking at them is not a form of help.
-Please eat dinner with our guests, and not in the obviously seperate room where only staff are allowed. Part of the whole experience is to treat them like human beings in a society that doesn't, and you're not helping by running away when someone makes eye contact with you.
-Please don't grab a plate of food before all of our guests are served. We do run out, and the difference is that you can go home to a fridge of food, our guests can't.

I think that's it, but I'm sure there's much more. I just had to vent because I keep this to myself when I'm there. (Except with the 17 year old brats, I tell them when they piss me off)

More later, I'm having birthday dinner (Randy's) at my parents house tonight and seeing my bro back from his trip. But I will leave you with this... from Ola..

Why you should never publish your pic on the internet...