Tricky vs. Shifty

About 2 and a half hours ago, I realized my plans for the day were shot. Completely. I had been planning to go to the job place downtown to see if they have different postings than the stuff online, and to see if they have any other services I might use. Then I was going to apply to tons and tons of jobs, and maybe try to catch a showing of Lars and the Real Girl sometime this evening, since I'm pretty sure it's still on at the Bookshelf.

However, when I went downstairs with the intention of working out, I realized that our basement had flooded. Thankfully, it's only the "new" section, as the original basement is fine. And it's only most of the new section, not all of it. Stupid thaw, and stupid massive rainstorm!

Our lovely neighbours have a wet vac they're letting me borrow, so there is no more of me, kneeling with a towel and bucket, trying to attack an inch of water in a 14' X 14' space (that's a guess).

I have figured out that the water most likely comes in from the door to the backyard, as that's really flooded. First thing in the spring, we're totally shoring up the sides of the house with dirt angled away from the house! And my plan for a hollyhock and peony garden at one side of the entranceway may not be a good idea, if that's where the water gets in. Although, I never water them, so maybe it would be okay afterall.

Anyway, I should probably get back at sucking up water. At least my hands won't be prune-y now. There goes my "vacation".

And Scott is totally taking over when he gets home.

Holy shit. Warner Brothers' president of production says they will no longer be "doing movies with women in the lead."

Why? Because they haven't performed well at the box office. I'm sure the fact that they were crappy movies in general had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. What a fucking asshole.

As Gloria Allred states in that article, if the studio confirms that this is now their policy, I'm staging a girlcott.

I KNEW there was a reason I hate that dude from Nickleback. What an asshole. I hope the cops do more than "propose" charges.

What the fuck is with Ryerson offering NO full credit publishing courses this summer? BASTARDS! So if I want to finish in December as I was hoping, I'll have to take three courses in the Fall. Provided they actually OFFER the ones I need to finish up. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Just saw Match Point with listersgirl and starfishchick. It was way more enjoyable than I thought it would be. Plus, the company was very good - so nice meeting you, SFC!

And I figured out where I recognized Matthew Goode from...Chasing Liberty (which I remembered as I was standing next to my copy of it).

I'm glad I've never pretended to not like so-bad-they're-good movies, otherwise I'd be embarassed now.


In other totally unrelated news, I apparently have a new upstairs neighbour. While they have yet to blast really bad music, they totally need to buy a really fucking thick carpet. They sound like a freaking elephant.

And I was getting so used to the quiet. Le sigh.

I don't think I've mentioned it here before, but a bunch of us at work have put together a basketball team, and are playing on Wednesday nights in a local league. We signed up for the "we suck, but we're just playing for fun" section, but we seem to be one of the few teams who actually do suck and play for fun - every other team strikes us as a bunch of boys who are super good at playing basketball and want to make themselves feel really fucking awesome by beating people who haven't played in at least 10 years, and asking a couple girls to join their team so that they can keep playing in this league and making themselves seem like bigger men because they win.

The team tonight was just ridiculous - they were beating us by over 20 points (and in this league, all baskets are one point, no matter where they're shot from), and they were STILL doing picks, and trying to steal the ball from us before we could even get out of our defensive zone after they'd gone out of bounds, or whatever. This was the first team we played that didn't make it at least a little fun. Jerks. So they're the first team that we're not giving full spirit points to. Bah to them.

And I was having internet/email problems at home, but now it's all sorted out - yay! Maybe I'll actually write interesting things. Ha.

But now I'm tired and sore (my own teammate hurt me - not on purpose, but I totally had the ball when he wrenched it from me and jammed my ring finger. It feels almost like the ones I sprained back in highschool, except without quite so much of the "Oh god! They feel like they're on fire!"ness), so I'm just going to veg out with a movie then go to bed so I can be up early to start going to the gym again.

I think I need to make a Canadian version of this hoodie, especially considering I have that particular sentiment in a patch and button, and I'm wearing all black in mourning today (sort of. But I wear all black to work at least once a week, anyway).

Sadly, the person I voted for did not win. BOO. But hey, it's $1.50 for the NDP at the very least.

On the bus ride home from seeing Cait at the airport, a most fucked up thing happened.

We ended up behind another bus on the same route for a while. And that bus driver wasn't always stopping to pick up passengers. It's not like his bus was full at all - there was hardly anyone on it. Our bus driver was confused, and would apologize to the passengers we stopped to pick up. Eventually our bus driver realizes that driver is only stopping at places where there were white people, and not at all when there were solely people of colour at the stops.

WHAT THE FUCK? That is just SO fucking messed up. I was completely flabbergasted, as was our bus driver when he realized what was going on as well. And just when I'd decided to try to remember the number of the bus, we got stuck in traffic, and that bus got way ahead and I couldn't see it anymore.

Fucker. If I'd been on that bus...

And this was right when I was reading the chapter on skinhead racist assholes in the punk movement (I'm reading Fury's Hour: a (sort of) punk manifesto, by Warren Kinsella), so I was already mad.