mandala stencil, bathroom poster, black leaf

diptych: cigarette ads and pyramid graffiti

And now for some pictures I took one frosty morning, downtown Victoria.

Hating the bus goes global: SCOTLAND

 Meet Amii. She's one of us. A bus rider. Here is her story.

 

 I live in Central Scotland, in a town between Edinburgh and Glasgow, and outside Stirling. Being beside these major cities, you'd assume the public transport services would be efficient? WRONG. At even the slightest hint of snow or gales the service operators freak out and close everything down. This March, after a really bad winter, we went into total shutdown because the RAIN was heavy. You'd think, considering Scotland's infamous reputation for having four seasons in one day half the time, we'd be used to this and have solutions? Nope.

 So, now I've painted you a lovely picture of where I live, imagine this; I'm standing at a bus stop, in the pouring rain, wind blowing spray into my face, trying to hide under the measly bus shelter, waiting on another bus. Yes, another, as the first one decided waiting for a girl with a pram and screaming, tired baby was just too much and drove past me, and the second switched his 'Not In Service' flag on two minutes before he rolled past. 

 I've already come off another bus to come up to the town centre, and that took me from my 'lovely' little temporary housing flat in the middle of Junkiesville, after I'd waited at the stop 20 minutes listening to two men drunkenly square up to eachother on a Wednesday afternoon, a toddler repeatedly shouting 'SHIT, MUM, LOOK, I'M SAYING SHIT, SHIT CAT, SHIT HOUSE, SHIT DOG, BABY SHIT' or something to that effect, while his mother blabbered away on her phone ignoring him - not that the bus ride was much better, as unfortunately I got stuck next to a handsome fella we nicknamed Captain Gid Hat Glasses Man. (See dictionary definition of 'gid' here; http://gid.urbanup.com/755050, used sarcastically of course...)

 Captain Gid Hat Glasses Man (let's call him Cap'n Specs for short) is an obese, smelly, dirty chap who always wears the same bobble hat with llamas knitted onto it, the same filthy red cardigan, bright green glasses, and trousers that are too big that bare his hairy arse crack, which is always speckled with something I HOPE is dirt. Even breathing through my mouth, I could still feel myself retching because all I can smell is BO, burnt onions and poop. My little boy screamed the whole half hour bus journey, and Phone Woman's little boy is still cursing at the top of his lungs. 

 Back to the beginning of the tale now; I'm still at the bus stop. I'm getting more and more pissed off as time goes on, as cars pass, and as my son screams louder. Nothing's calming him down. Eventually, the bus turns up, and the usual process happens; the driver doesn't lower the bus, I struggle to lift the pram on, the bus driver scowls and mutters under his breath after I pay my fare in 20 pence coins, and an elderly woman grumbles about prams taking up disabled spaces (don't get me started, I've fought with this woman over this matter before!). I'm yet again wondering why I'm making this bloody godforsaken journey to my mum's house for dinner, and thinking murderous thoughts about the junkie who's clearly going through his gear in a black bag across from me - it's almost the exact same nightmare every time, like a really bad, expensive recurring dream.

 As we reach the village, the junkie sits next to me. I can practically smell the methadone rolling off him. He comes up close, and then hooks his fingers through my tunnel in my ear and yanks it, pulling me with it, and slurs, "So, wha'ssat fur? Puttin' bottle caps through?"

 Enough is enough, I storm to the front and throw us off the bus, buggy and all, even though my mum's house is still a 15 minute walk away. As I walk, I can feel the frustrations of the day building up, and my eyes tear up. I stop to rest on a wall, put the pram's brakes on, and throw my face into my hands, ready to burst into tears. I feel a little tug on my sleeve, and look up. My little boy is looking at me, his bright blue-green eyes are filled with curiosity and his little button nose is scrunched up as if he's concentrating.

 "What's up, baby boy?" I ask, trying to calm myself. He thinks a little more, looks around, then beams at me as he utters his first word, which makes the day's awful journey with those horrible people, the money problems, and the sadness melt away.

 "Mummy!"

Hurrah!

 One of the worst and best days of my life!

You can find Amii's blog here and she's also on twitter. 

Thanks for sharing, Amii! :) 

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If you want to participate in the global public transit hate-fest, if you have a funny bus story, or any tips and tricks to surviving the proletariot chariot, email me at novaisawesome(at)gmail(dot)com. I'd love to hear your story.

Peering into shop windows in Fan Tan Alley one spooky night, and a strange story about yesterday.

Something fairly unbelievable happened yesterday while I was on the bus. I feel like "did that really happen or did I see it in a horrible movie?" about it. If you follow me on Twitter you already know, but for the rest of you, let me explain.

I was sitting in a window seat on a crowded bus, and we were stopped at a red light. When I looked out the window I could see a car dealership and a small cross-street. Over the cross-street and car dealership are many many power lines. 

All of a sudden there was a noise I've never heard before. It was SO LOUD but very low, it was something you just know in your guts is a very bad sound. Kind of like a cartoon "ZAP" sound of electricity but I mean...LOUD.

And then half of the people on the bus went "ohhhhhhhhh". And the rest of us went "???"

I thought maybe it was a car accident and looked around but everybody was looking up. The guy sitting behind me also at a window seat said "All those gulls just got zapped...all over the cars!" And I figured it out. Seagulls were sitting on a power line and got electrocuted! It was so strange, it felt really scary somehow. Then the bus started moving again and as we drove away you could see people coming out of buildings with their mouths wide open in O shapes, the way people do when something crazy happens outside your work.

Half an hour later when I got out of the bus, something was on fire. Smoke burned my eyes. I couldn't see what was burning but it smelled terrible. When I got home I googled local news 'til my fingers were tired and found nothing about either incident. 

Strange day.

Scary Santa Saturday, part 1 of 4

You are welcome. 

All images via Sketchy Santas. Do check that site out, it's hilarious.

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In other news, I am in the midst of a day long back spasm and holy moly do those things hurt! (It's my first time! haha) I remember when I was a teenager my mom had one and I was laughing at the way she was walking to the bathroom all bent over and holding her back weird. Then she started laughing and fell down and hurt herself worse...all in a very comical way. Anyway if somebody dares laugh at the way I'm walking I will kill them...just as soon as I can lift my arms without sobbing and swearing. 

Just now I got stuck on the couch. I could not move. And there was a table sitting in front of me with my breakfast, coffee and ibuprofin and I could not get to it. Terrible. 

I've got about an hour before I have to leave for work and am doing the "Should I go or not?" dance in my head. I'm thinking yes, but buy some crazy fun drugs on the way. Like crack robaxacet.

*no I actually do not think crack is a "crazy fun drug", it was a joke.

Three days in Sarah's Place, Victoria B.C.

Last week my friend Sarah had a pressing engagement in Toronto to which she needed to attend. (A Prince concert, haha!) She owns a little 'vegan curio boutique' downtown, and while she was away I worked there in her place.

Sarah has quite the fanbase...probably five or six times people walked in over the three days I was there and said "HEY, YOU'RE NOT SARAH". Sorry to disappoint you, folks, it's just stupid old me. I ain't never wrote no cookbooks or no app before. (Said in hick voice.)

This picture is from my first ten minutes of the first day. Not bad.

It's a funny thing, suddenly being thrown into a retail job after not having done it in a long time. Or ever. I've hardly even sold a piece of clothing in my life, actually. One Christmas season I worked in a mall kiosk selling sweaters from South America. And panflutes.

But take a non-vegan un-girly girl and put her into a 'vegan curio boutique' and it makes for some funny scenarios. People would straight up ask me if I was vegan, which I'm not. People would ask where something was made or how to get paint out of their jeans or how a CD is vegan and I'd be all "Uhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm...let me Google that for you."And let me tell you...the red dress in the window gets more attention than Tank does when we go for a walk. And that's saying something.

Anyway, as the store is really small and clean, and I had no real work to do other than sell things, I found myself with enough free time to take all these pictures, and read probably 1000 pages in the A Song of Ice and Fire books.  I'm halfway through the second book now for those who care. 

Oranges and peanut butter sandwiches were eaten as I gazed longingly at these chocolate bars...they're 100% vegan, but they taste like popular American chocolate bars. These, the all-hemp faux fur parkas and the crazy tea selection are my favorite things Sarah sells, I think. I mean, root beer tea? Yum!

This is a real phone. It rang twice while I was there. Once it was Sarah, and the other call I got was a cold call from a promoter for "a Vegas-style circus performance". I felt both awesome and silly talking on this thing. Especially on the circus performance call.

On Saturday there was a 'Fur-Free Downtown Dash', kind of like a scavenger hunt, and Sarah's Place was one of the stops...the participants had to come down, answer a skill-testing question and give me a thank you card! haha! You are welcome.

 Here's a few more shots I took around Sarah's Place. It's a really cute little store.

Sarah's place is on Pandora Ave in Victoria B.C.  Go say hello!

Things I Want For Christmas Thursday. Or whenever. Oh, and did you notice my fancy sposors? Look over there. ->

Update: did you notice I misspelled 'sponsors' in the title? Heh heh...awkward.

On with the show.

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First of all, how many of you can honestly say you've taken a crappy cell phone picture of Santa interviewing a chaplain about what he wants for Christmas? Show of hands? You really don't see that every day.

I like putting a list up of things I am currently drooling over each Christmas, you know, to take the pressure off anyone who's wondering what on earth you get a girl like me. And hey, a girl can dream

Here's what.

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The Lomo LC-A Russia Day Minitar

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A vintage springbok puzzle.

I want you to give Kristin some money.

Somebody to adopt Buster ASAP.

Urban Ears 'plattan' headphones. Nice and grey and neutral and awesome. 

A freakin' filofax. You know how many years I've been drooling over these?  

All these travel stickers. I don't even know what I want to stick them on. EVERYTHING!

Anything from Suzy's gift guide.

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Pretty much any of these 'punjammies' please...I think I'm a size large. These are my five favorites. 

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 The Photojojo faux camera lens coffee mug!

 

Buy the Canon Camera Lens Mugs at the Photojojo Store!

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The La Sardina Cubic Camera with flash.

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Pretty wooden plugs! 

Kitty plugs, button plugs, snowflake plugs, paper crane plugs, argyle plugs, rainy day plugs, strawberry plugs, I'm a 00g, just so's you know.

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 A Lomo Split-Cam. It just looks like it could be a lot of fun! 

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This rad little digital camera that lets you do double exposure photos! What! 

 

Buy the Double Exposure Digi Cam at the Photojojo Store!

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A popeye camera.

 Any superheadz camera.

Bottle cap tripod.

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Both of these journals. I am going to buy them for myself in January, I swear. 

Q&A 5 Year Journal                                           One Sketch A Day Journal

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 A fake collar...a faux, detachable thing that looks like a shirt collar. I especially like the hammered brass one (#8). It's kind of like being fancy ironically. Perfect!

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
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 Film! 35mm or 120 would be awesome. It's an expensive hobby, this film photography thing.

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This dayplanner. Or this one. Please!

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Fun socks. Yup. All these are from Ashi Dashi. I especially love the pencil, paper and notebook ones.

What do you want for Christmas?