So I’ve officially been spammed.
Not just a little spam here and there, more like a sudden spam bomb that exploded in my comments.
It’s really not too big a deal. They spam didn’t even make it onto my web-site, because they were pretty obviously not actual human interaction. But, being previously spam free, I had my system set to moderate questionable content, so there was a moment there when my inbox was flooded with e-mails from my admin system. I implemented a handy spam blaster plug-in, and things seem to be going slightly smoother.
But I’m still not pleased.
There’s something about my own private corner of the internet being so fully assaulted that gets me all twitchy.
It doesn’t help matters that this spam was annoyingly un-generic. Every single message came from a different IP, and each message had a unique variety of links. Commercial, non-spammer links too. Telling me to visit sites I normally visit, that everybody normally visits. News sites, movie sites, just generic popular sites.
No poker, bingo, porn or Viagra.
That worries me.
I can’t figure out the purpose of it. According to Google, it doesn’t exist.
It is completely purposeless. It doesn’t sell anything.
It is spam, for spam’s sake.
What’s up with that?
It does occasionally make me pine for the days of ink ribbons.
Am I the only one kinda fascinated by Ashlee Simpson?
I mean, I’m sure I’m not, if the amount of pictures of her in the celebrity glossies at the checkout counter are any indication…
But am I the only relatively intellectual person for whom she is a source of entertainment and perpetual bewilderment?
And most people seem to get side-tracked by her (I’m totally not surprised or shocked by the break-up at all) sister.
But Ashlee… she’s just so… watch-able.
I am willing to watch her do anything - but I am especially willing to watch her flail wildly and throw temper tantrums over french-fries. I am even willing to watch her sing badly.
I used to have this kind of fascination for Paris Hilton (back when she was a little-known, but much photographed socialite). Before her it was Kelly Osbourne, and way before that I would probably even say it was Drew Barrymore (back when she was cutting her own hair; wearing lingerie to Movie Premiers; and flashing certain night-time, talk-show hosts on-air).
It’s less a obsession, or celebrity crush, and more like going to the zoo.
I mean look at them: they’ve got faces, and bodies, and hearts, and brains… but they do such weird stuff! They’re like, totally not human. You look into their cute little faces, and you think, what’s behind those eyes? What are they thinking? What would they say if they could talk like people do?
The whole Lindsay and/or Hillary thing kinda bores me though.
It has been pleasantly snowy and blustery the past few days here, and I have been doing my best to enjoy it. I don’t know what it is about the first bout’s of snowy weather that makes me want to toboggan, and ice-skate, and sit by a crackley fire and drink hot chocolate. Must be the Canadian in me .
Admittedly, I did not actually toboggan or skate. I have no toboggan, or fireplace, and my figure-skates are at my parents house in Richmond Hill. Those were more generic examples of what I could be doing.
But I did drink banana flavoured hot chocolate.
Check this out. Coloured bubbles! Not to mention an enthraling invention story. I’m always a sucker for those. I totally want some “zubbles” in my stocking this christmas (via gizmodo).
So. How did my day go? The day I have been worried about for weeks? The first of a few portfolio once-overs that I have been going on about forever? How did all that go? Huh?
Well…
Pretty good, actually.
I didn’t exactly get what I thought I was gonna get, but that turned out to be ok.
I didn’t get anywhere near anyone from OCAD. Which sucked. Because of Saturday night’s parked-car-minding-its-own-buisness debacle, we were a bit late (oh, and did I mention it was the annual Santa Claus parade [that link is super creepy, check it out], and an Argonauts football game? Downtown was just plain silly with parade-goers and tailgaters). When we got there, there was a line-up halfway through the school for the OCAD room, and it was not moving at all.
Thankfully, knowledgeable art recruiters from the top North American Art schools were swarming the place, so rather than see some people we could easily make an appointment to see later, we went to find something prestigious and exiting - with a short line-up.
So, we ended up in the dreamy-dreamy California room.
I ended up talking to a girl from Otis College of Art and Design. And she really like my stuff. She thought my portfolio was polished and solid (though it could probably use some more life and figure drawing). And she thought if I brought my grade point up, I would probably have a great time at Otis someday (if I ever decide to move to California).
This is super cool, because Otis is an awesome school for three important reasons:
- Edith Head went there.
- They have a TOY DESIGN program!!!!!!!
- I could pretend I was Claire from Six Feet Under, on a regular basis (but without the dorky friends)
So.
My day went well.
Gee.
For the second time in as many years, my boyfriends parked car has been involved in an accident.
The first time involved a 300 hundred ft. tall tree, a green sky, and a sudden wind storm. The result was one totalled car.
This time involved a quiet residential street; and a girl with sub-par intelligence, driving record and fashion sense. The result is one (possibly) totalled axle.
Plus: we are at my parents house in Richmond Hill, so the car has to be towed all the way back to St. Catherines. Thankfully my dad called the cops, so it’s all on the girls insurance.
Although Liam thinks that he should be allowed to take a baseball bat to random parked cars to level out the playing field.
All this, and tomorrow is Portfolio day, and I still need to get some things printed and copied.
Thankfully my parents said they’ll drive me around.
But still… Unlucky? A little? Ugh and Gosh. My life is weird. And not in a fun wacky-neighbours and eccentric-living-arrangements way.
Today:
I sat on a bench on Queen Street west with a huge slice of warm sausage pizza (and some peach juice) and watched the flimsy, floaty flakes of first snow fall into the streetcars, and streets, and cars.
I found a pale blue, vintage, Lacoste cardigan for ten dollars!
I discussed the merits of Blythe dolls with a cute girl from the Magic Pony.
I finished reading a book about the impact of certain beverages throughout history.
Good day.
I am seriously and truly working on my portfolio. I promise. Here’s proof even:
See!
It’s a super-stylized self-portrait. I hope I don’t look too much like a clown…
Working away is easy, it’s coming up with good idea’s that’s hard.
To get myself to stay the course I keep telling myself I only have a week to put this together… but then I hyperventilate and have to go back and remind myself that this weekend is only a portfolio workshop. Not the final interview. The final interview is months away.
So maybe I should just stop talking to myself all together. It’s altogether less insane.
I was making lunch today, when suddenly it’s aroma’s took me back to childhood. Specifically, I recalled lunches at my grandparents house (where my family lived for a year when I was 5). I remember that there was always soup (usually vegetable or tomato) and all the necessary ingredients to make yourself a nice sandwich (cheese, tomato, lettuce, meat, mayo and mustard). On top of this there was usually some cottage cheese, and many saltines. Certainly nothing special, and yet I remember those lunches as being just that.
This got me thinking about the food’s I loved as I child.
What follows is my top ten most loved, and my bottom five most hated foods as a child, and some associated memories. It should be noted that pretty much anything cheese related kept me happy, which explains a large percentage of this list.
Most loved:
- Turkey dinner… with stuffing!.
- Perogies with sour cream (I lived in Alberta for a year - many Albertans are of Ukrainian descent).
- Sour dill pickles (especially home-made).
- Fresh picked raspberries (especially from my grandparents backyard).
- Rainbow chip cake (which was the cake of choice for the majority of my birthdays).
- Lo mein or pretty much anything Asian and noodley (there was a place near my grandparents house called Noodle Delite - I always begged to go there).
- French onion soup (it’s on the menu in pretty much every restaurant ever, so it was always a safe bet).
- Spaghetti with parmesan.
- Rice with soy sauce (or fried rice accompanied by broccoli beef if I was in a chinese restaurant).
- McDonald’s cheeseburger (which I always got with root-beer in a happy-meal - although they didn’t have them in Canada until I was around ten).
Most hated:
- Processed cheese (it made me sick).
- Hot dogs especially… and meat in general (I also wasn’t a fan of pizza which altogether made me dread birthday parties).
- Zucchini (which always grows in abundance and was foisted on me in large quantities).
- Squash, turnip or sweet potato (they all taste the same).
- Sweet pickles (there’s nothing as awful as biting into a pickle only to find it’s not dill).
Argh.
I have spent the last couple hours trying to take and upload photos… Mostly for the purpose of (finally) letting the internet share in the joy of the birth of my zine.
Everything I do seems to screw up. My camera was set to the wrong settings, then my cat kept trying to get in the shot, then the rainy weather outside ruined my lighting, then I couldn’t keep my hand from shaking and making the pictures blurry. On top of it all Photoshop is being sluggish and all crashy.
So, as a result this is all you’re getting right now.
It’s the front cover. Tantalizing, no?