Peek a boo!

I see you!

That's a photo of me last night, pre-gaming for the Die Antwoord show in Vancouver at some pub somewhere awesome on Granville street.

On my hand, you will see the complete directions from the Ferry terminal to the bus to the sky train to the hotel.

In my eyes you will see SO MUCH EXCITEMENT for the show.

Even though the trip was really quick, it was completely fun. Every single connection, and we're talking bus, bus, ferry, bus, sky train, find hotel, meet up with friend, find the show...it all went as well as it possibly could. We got to hang out with Chris


(he works sometimes at Tattoo Zoo...the shop I work at, and sometimes at Sacred Heart in Vancouver) and a very nice friend of his. We had beer on a patio. We saw an otter playing on a dock. We stayed in a cool hotel.


We got off the island for a day. We saw a show we really wanted to see.

Hahahahahaha seriously they were so awesome. You can't tell from this video because A) they're performing a dance remix of a song which is totally ridiculous, and B) it's a youtube video so you can't really get the whole ambiance and energy thing, and C) You can't see Yo-landi's hair and gold teeth because of the hood ... just take my word for it. So. Much. Fun.

On the way home, between busses we accidentally got lost at the new ginormous WalMart grand opening here in Victoria. What? We had to use the bathroom/were curious, as it has been in various stages of construction for years. We followed the signs that said 'pedestrian access', walked up some unfinished wooden steps and...were suddenly on the roof of the building.
Not to worry though, there was an elevator big enough to park a car in that we took down to the front door...and the platform to get to this random elevator was built entirely of plywood...on the roof? It was strange.

Why open when you're not even finished construction?

Anyway, inside, it looked like a newer busier Costco, but with two floors and less class. It was HUGE. They literally (probably not literally...but definitely figuratively) have everything there; including a walk-in-clinic (yes a fucking Walmart walk-in clinic) and a bakery employee who wore her apron and hairnet into the bathroom stall and was in there like, FOREVER while I was waiting which is totally gross and that's why I'm telling the world. DO NOT TRUST WALMART EMPLOYEES TO NOT WEAR THEIR APRONS INTO THE STALLS AND THEN GO BACK TO MAKING FOOD.

We didn't actually explore the store or anything, we just used the washroom and booked it into the labyrinthine parking lot surrounded by a ghost-town of half-built stores (where we literally almost got lost).

Even using the bathroom was an extreme adventure.

Um yeah, and then we came home and watched T.V.

The end.

Good days off, guys. It was fun.

Zef $ide, Die Fokken Antwoord!

It's my two hundredth blog post. Watch out.

So I thought I'd make myself a really cool image to go along with this momentous occasion: my two hundredth post.

First, I used Old English font, and lined it up all nicely. It was cool and all but it kind of seemed like it was missing something.

I racked my brain. What could go with Old English?

Old English...England...old tyme...medieval times...

(snaps fingers dramatically) I GOT IT! A tribal dragon!

So, using my rather professional paint program skills I placed a sick dragon beside the words.

Yeah, much more radical.

But, you know what the picture was missing? Something to celebrate somebody's heritage. I mean, personally I'm not Scottish or anything but a Celtic knot would really make the picture come alive. It's pretty simple, actually. And small. I thought that if I could make the dragon holding a Celtic knot in it's claw, then it would really finish it off nicely.

Yeah. Awesome.

Except...I think that I need to show how Canadian I am. Maybe in the other claw I'll put a maple leaf. So like, it totally represents me, you know? And where I live. So like, I can show people and they'll be like "Oh, she's a Canadian."

I should also stick a banner with Ryan's name in there somewhere.

Yeah! Sweet!

Now all it needed was a little ICP-style juggalo makeup and a tongue ring on the dragon to make it look tough, and voila:

Fuck yeah.

Anybody wanna let me design their next tattoo?

Mister deer makes a second appearance this week:

Not cool, guys. Not cool.

This guy, I think it's actually mister deer's teenage son, was so close I could have touched him. It took me a good twenty seconds after he started bounding away that I should take a majestic photo of a close-up deer. Unfortunately this was the best one I got.

BLAST

There's a pub near my work with the world's craziest hand dryer machines.

And yeah, maybe I was there the other day.

And yeah, maybe we closed the shop down a little early to go for a beer. What? It was TOO HOT out and we were bored and the boss came with us so it's okay.

So anyway, I've thought that these hand dryers were the bees knees since the dawn of time, more or less, and decided that day, after a beer or two (in the heat which equals like forty beers), to take some photos of my arm. In the bathroom. Under the hand dryer.

I made sure nobody was in there with me first, because...awkward!

Yeah. Now that's a blast of hot air. Best hand dryers ever!

deer family

Yesterday morning I burst out the front door as usual: fiddling with my iPod, tugging my shirt down, still trying to get my shoe all the way on my foot, holding out a hand to feel if it really was raining or just another grey grey day. I always do this. I leave leaving to the very last second. Especially when Ryan's actually around in the morning. Usually I have to leave before he wakes up, or he's just getting home and falling straight into bed from his graveyard shift at the residential group home for disabled adults, exhausted.

Yesterday he was up and we were having coffee together. Probably holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes. You know, regular boyfriend-girlfriend stuff.

So of course I was ... not late, exactly. Just...so close to being late that I had to speed-walk most of the way to the bus stop and hope I don't see it drive by when I'm like thirty steps away like it always seems to do.

I put my earbuds in my ears, and put the songs on shuffle. Please be something good, I thought. Sometimes I let the iPod give me the soundtrack to my day, I'm not allowed to change the song. It's a game where the music determines the mood of my day and creates my own personal music video.

Stevie Wonder. Yes!

Just then, I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. I thought it was probably just the super annoying kid from across the street who goes through our recycling box (?) and "Plays" with his dog right outside our bedroom window every time Ryan is trying to sleep. (By 'plays' I mean 'holds a stick in the air and yells get it. Get it. Get it. and the dog barks and barks.' It's super awesome.)

I turned and looked, with my best glaring face on.

No, not the neighbor kid. Instead it was...A DEER FAMILY!
I froze. And then said "HOLY SHIT" out loud. That's how surprised I was. And scared.

No, wait. Not...scared. I'm not scared of deer. That's ridiculous. In fact, when I worked on the bee-farm they made me carry a whip to hit the deer who were eating the strawberries with and yeah, I might have whipped a deer or two. And chased them with quads. Which they are not afraid of for some reason. I practically ran one over one time. It was just like "WTF?" and looked at me like I was the crazy one. Which I was.

Anyway...I was...surprised. And so I shouted swearwords of surprise. And they were also like "WTF?" and just kinda stared at me.


And then I did the most rational thing ever. I took pictures of them while simultaneously phoning Ryan to tell him about the deer and how I was scare...no, SURPRISED by them.

In the meantime they moved on, because apparently deer are too cool to hang out with someone as cool and calm as I was.



Ryan was largely unimpressed with my phone call. He was laughing, and I'm pretty sure it was at me, not with me.

After the deer turned the corner back towards the woods behind our house, I kept walking. Stevie was over and it was Radiohead. The day turned greyer and the mood was melancholy beautiful. I mean, yeah...I saw deer after hands holding and coffee. And I was wearing the radical new hoodie Ryan bought for himself but then realized it was a woman's hoodie after he got it home and it just happened to fit me. And it's grey which is my favorite color to wear.
So yeah, it was a pretty alright kinda morning.

About half-way to the bus stop, my bag started vibrating. (That's what he said) The call display said 'call if found' which is code for 'my house', you know, in case I lose my telephone, right? SMRT.

I thought it was gonna be Ryan, but when I answered I got a... SURPRISE.

Me: Hello? (smiling)

Caller: (weird voice, kind of like bullwinkle the moose) Hello, is this Nova?

Me: (laugh) Yes.

Caller: Hello Nova, my name is mister deer.

Me: (double laugh) How'd you get this number?

Caller: I just phoned to tell you not to be scared of me and my family!

Me: (laugh more) Oh! Thanks for calling.

Caller: You're welcome! I have to go now, but remember, don't be scared of me and my family!

Me: Okay! Thanks!

Caller: Bye. Don't be scared of us!

Me: I won't! Bye!

And I couldn't stop laughing to myself like a crazy person all the way to the bus stop. Hope nobody saw me!

fireworks are hard to take pictures of

thoughts on G20 from an ignoramus

Sitting here in my house on Vancouver Island...I had no idea what was going on during the G20 protests.

I still don't.

At work the other day we marveled at the crazy photos of the burning police cars. The Toronto natives sighed and wished they had been there to witness the (un?)civil disobedience.

I thought "hey, those guys in black sure look cool, smashing that window"

But then I started reading stuff. And watching little home-video clips on the internet. And you know what? It feels a little scary.

I still don't get it. I have read the protester's side of things. I have read the media's side of things. I've mostly read the uninformed sides of things. I'm confused.

Why did those people get detained for twenty six hours? Why were they fed cheese sandwiches and why were the gays segregated from everyone else?

What's with all the violence?

Why did this happen? (watch from around 50-ish seconds, the first bit is just the national anthem)

Why were the guys in black allowed to burn the police car? And who left police cars unattended with the windows rolled down?

How come I get tears in my eyes when I watch this?


I'm sorry but I just can't grasp it.

What's being sensationalized?
What's real?

How did it get so out of hand?

I thought I could trust you, Canada. Police. You seemed so safe. I don't ... I kind of feel betrayed, I guess. I'm so ignorant because I thought it was safe to be ignorant.
*sigh* guess it's time to quit being so naïve about things.

Really I have nothing to say about it and no way to say it, except I guess I know what it feels like now to be disappointed in my country.

img from here

speaking of my arm...

Last night the very coolest man ever Bryan Turnbull finished my mummy/my little pony/lucky charms/castle/tea party sleeve! All that's left is a little touch-up session, add a teeny bit more background and it's done like dinner, which is actually the very most annoying phrase to ever leave my fingertips and land on my blog.

I'm gonna go ahead and leave it there.

Anyways, I'm in a real show-offy mood about it today. Just ask my facebook friends.

I tried to take some fabulous glamour shots of my own arm, but guess what? It's really hard to do that. So you'll have to settle on terrible lens-flare flash reflecty bathroom shots, very-very-close-ups, bad-lighting, blurry and face-cut-off photos of me. Sorry? But anyway, for those of you who haven't already seen these photos on the facebook, check out my new awesome arm! And those of you that have, feel free to leave me compliments and praise in the comments section.

Ta Daaah!

LOOK AT THAT MUMMY! YES!


Good ol' bathroom mirror shots. Also, side-note, we really need to paint that wall.


Colored-in castle...felt a lot closer to my armpit than it actually is.


Check out my muscle. (Actually my arm's just swollen.)

Check it out. I have a frickin' plaid table cloth in the crook of my elbow. You don't see that every day.

FLASH
I like all the bobby pins in this one. Fancy.


Thumbs up. Also, doesn't my arm look crazy long in this one?


Thanks again to BRYAN. Everybody click that link and see what else the man can do. He's a frickin' tat-wizard. I mean that in a good way.

No, seriously. Go here. Now.

But...how will I ever catch a husband?

Scene: bus stop. Of fucking course.

Me: (just hangin' out after a long day of working, not harming anybody, minding my own business, being awesome. The ususal.)

Random Guy: (Standing beside me, turned to face me sort of, obviously looking at my arm.)



Me: (Trying so hard to keep minding my own business)

Random Guy: (Talking to me, even though I'm turned away from him, body language = CLOSED FOR BUSINESS, listening to my iPod with those ubiquitous white earbuds.)

Me: (Sigh) Pardon me?

RG: Nice ink.

Me: Yeah. I know.

RG: Where'd you get that done? Here in town?

Me: Yeah. (Digs a Tattoo Zoo card out of my bag) Here, take a card.

RG: Mumble mumble full body suit?

Me: What? I'm working on it. (Laugh)

RG: But why the hell would you do that to yourself?

Me: (Puts mental boxing gloves on, because HELL NO) What do you mean?

RG: You know, it's never gonna come off.

Me: Yeah. I know. It's supposed to be like that.

RG: Is that even a real tattoo? (Still talking about my arm)

Me: Yes. (laughs)

RG: You're gonna have that for life, you know?

Me: Yeah.

RG: Why would you do that to yourself, kid?

Me: (WTF, this guy's like ten years older than me tops) Um...because I wanted to?

RG: Yeah well mumble mumble husband mumble mumble it's gonna be hard when you want to get married and get a family.

Me: No. You know what? (Stands up straight, looks him in his ignorant face) I have a family and we are doing just fine, actually.

RG: (Holds hands up in defensive posture) Woah woah woah no need to get angry.

Me: Yeah, well it's awful to be standing here, minding my own business and then some stranger comes up to me and starts saying things like that to me. It's very rude and it's hurtful.

RG: mumble mumble where'd you get that work done anyway? Here in town?

(At this time I realize he's totally drunk and it's useless to even waste my time, even though I had this full speech coming to me about how I was just at my full time job and I have a degree from a University now and what was he doing being drunk in the middle of the day on like a Monday anyway and who is he to judge me...etcetera.)

My bus came.

Me: That's my bus. (walks away with semi-threatening gesture, hoping he takes it as a warning for next time.)

RG: Yeah. (shouts after me) Good luck with all that ink.

Seriously guys. Yeah. I was so sad about it that on the bus I text-messaged my (female, tattooed) boss: D-bag @ the bus stop just basically asked me how i expect to get a man and have a family with all these tattoos.

Her reply?

Awwww fuck that guy in the neck. Did you ask him why he is so mean? Ask him if he's mad at his mom so he had to be mean to other women to compensate for his pencil dick. My standard response to guys like that is to furrow my brow and ask "what's wrong with you? Are you handicap(sic)? Learn some manners." When that fails I tell them to go get fucked. Feel free to use at your leisure. :)

Hahaha thanks Sarah. But seriously guys. LEARN SOME FUCKING MANNERS. I can not believe the sense of entitlement people seem to have, thinking they can just go up to complete strangers and insult their appearance. Tattoos are pretty mean things to insult, as well, because you can't really change them. Keep it to yourself. And remember:



__________________

On a more positive note, CLICK HERE to read people's true life stories by Sarah Von. It's a very interesting (and on-going) project she's been working on for a while now. She basically interviews people with a-typical lifestyles, or who have had something crazy happen in their lives.
And especially check it out on November 29th, because that's when my interview will be up!!

singing

my favorite song to sing along to while sweeping the floor in the mornings at tattoo zoo is Malaguena Salerosa by Chingon...

I was totally busted today by Cody. I was all practicing rolling my R's (which I literally learned from singing along to this song, not from all the school in Spanish, not from the ... seven percent of my life I've spent in Mexico.) RRRRosa.


I just recently found out this is where it's from:



I want to watch this entire movie. It's effing awesome. And this scene reminds me of the one time when I was living in Colima, Mexico...

which is here you ignorant motherfuckers:
I inadvertently saw a serenade taking place. Some guy wanted to ask for a young lady's hand in marriage.
I was at my friend's host-family's house, and the mother ran into his bedroom where we were all hanging out and made us come outside to watch. There were mariachis, and the girl was all out on her balcony in the middle of the night looking super pretty in a dress and sighing dramatically...so was her mother, come to think of it.

It was totally this scene, with the man being all romantic and sort of creepy, except more outside in the night time and more bad-ass because it happened in like two thousand and three, not nineteen thirty two or whatever.

Just imagine me with all those spectators. That's what it was like.

AWESOME.

Two moments from yesterday evening.

Scene: me, waiting at the bus stop, downtown Victoria. (as usual)
Mentally disabled man stands beside me, starts talking.

Me: (taking earbuds out of my ears) Pardon me?

Guy: What your name?

Me: Nova. What's your name?

Guy: Richard

Me: (nods)

Guy, AKA Richard: (extends hand out, as though we were going to shake)

Me: (Does the same to be polite.)

Richard: (Does crazy secret hand-shake kind of thing, complete with fist pounds and some kind of thumb thing with jazz fingers.)

Me: (Tries to keep up with crazy hand-shake.)

Richard: (Goes in for the hug)

Me: (Realizes he has a lot of dried ketchup on the corners of his mouth and on his white shirt.)

Richard: You're a nice lady.

Me: Thanks.

Richard: (Stands there staring for an awkwardly long time staring at me.)

Me: So...did you have a good day today?

Richard: Yeah. (Rolls eyes as though it was a totally lame question.)

Me: Me too.

Richard: What bus you on?

Me: The thirty*.

Richard: Me, twenty eight.

Me: Oh.

Richard: My bus is coming. (points)

Me: Oh, yeah, there it is. Cool.

Richard: See you later. (Even more elaborate hand-shake, followed by hug.)

Me: (Leaning way back, stiff one-arm hug, trying not to encourage any more physical contact) Yup, bye.

Richard: Cute glasses.

Me: Okay. Bye! (Note to self: Never wear glasses at the bus stop again.)

-----later, on my walk home-----

Seeing a bunch of 'free stuff' left over from a garage sale, including books, I wander over to some guy's yard. He's kneeling on the curb, scrubbing it with an old shirt.

"I left a few cans of paint out here and look what they did."

I look...yep, definitely a mess. I wonder who "they" is.

"Hm, that sucks. Hey, is that a full set of encyclopedias?"

Two minutes later I'm on the phone with Ryan asking him to come pick me and 26 books up.

mm, cherries. (drool)

It's HERE!!

s'africa

My boyfriend rules.

He surprised me with tickets to go see Die Antwoord and um, also he's cute and stuff. Anyway so I'm totally stoked to see NINJA:


YO-LANDI VI$$ER


and DJ HI-TEK do some of this. (Who raps in Pink Floyd boxers? ... or in a Taxi? Haha) I mean...how can you not love these people, man?



Anyway, the point of this entry is that Ryan went to get his hair cut up at The Lab yesterday, and happened to mention that we're going to the show in a few weeks. Well, the stylist happened to also be a fan of them and asked Ryan if he could do something a little special with his haircut. Ryan said sure, whatever.

25 minutes later, he was still cutting the back.

35 minutes...

45 effing minutes. "I'm really getting into this, man." He told Ryan.

Ryan was like WHAT THE F***?

Finally the guy was done. He held the mirror up in front of Ryan so he could see the back of his head.

"What...?"

"I cut South Africa into your hair."

HAHAHA it's so awesome.

Stuff I saw this week:

Maybe I have a problem...

I blame Ryan. He knows I'm not allowed to go into the Utopia store. Ever. I will sell my non-existent firstborn child for a good t-shirt and this place? Yeah. Full of them. The threadless brand shirts fit me perfectly and like every single one seems custom made with things I love printed all over them. And they knew I was coming yesterday.

Sure, we were there to find something for his kid. And only there for literally like four minutes. That didn't stop me from overpaying for a shirt with this on it:
Come on, it's so awesome. How could I not?

So um, yeah. Are there support groups for t-shirt lovers?

language skills

Conversation at work yesterday:

Boss (looking at a photo of a word) "What language is that?"

Me "Well, if it's spelled with a 't' it's Latin I think and if it's spelled with a 'd' it's Spanish. I think. I don't know."

Boss "You don't know?"

Me "Well I don't speak Latin so...yeah."

Boss "Well if you don't know, nobody knows."

Me "Hm, I think you severely over-est my language skills."

Boss "...?"

Me "Uh...over-estIMATE. Hah."

Best billboard ever!

just what I needed, another place to buy t-shirts

Thanks, wordboner.com, for feeding my addiction. No, don't worry. I haven't made any purchases. Yet. Only because my visa is still healing from the ravaging it took at threadless.com last week.

*cough* where I bought four t-shirts *cough*

What? They were on sale.

Anyway...um...yeah. I LOVE T-SHIRTS.
The end.

cody

We're getting a new guy at work, starting Thursday. A big fat welcome to Cody Walsh!

An open letter to the guy who gave me his e-mail address scribbled on a scrap of paper like two years ago in the street

Dear guy who gave me his e-mail address scribbled on a piece of paper like two years ago when I was walking past and told me you like my style,

Hey. What's up?

Listen, um...here's the thing. I AM OBVIOUSLY NOT INTERESTED IN YOU.

Not only do I have a boyfriend, but I'm not into hip hop guys. Or aggressively forward guys either. You lose three times.

Also? Creepy guys who feel they have the right to continue to pester me TWO EFFING YEARS LATER. Not into those either.

I only took your e-mail at all because you caught me so off guard and I thought it would be harmless. Honestly, that never happens to me, so I said "thanks" and walked away. Remember? I wasn't like "Hey cool, let's be best friends and go on dates and hold hands for ever and ever." I was like "Okay bye."

And guess what. I threw it in the garbage and felt like an idiot like a minute later. Why did I take the thing at all? I should have just said no thank you.

But I figured you'd get the point anyway, seeing as I never e-mailed you.

And then remember how it was late at night one time and I was walking home from the bus stop and you saw me? And I was talking on the phone and walking because that's what I do when I feel creeped out at night. I call my boyfriend and he talks me home. Remember? And this was like months and months later and you started saying my name over and over and I just kept walking as though I only had ears for my telephone? Yeah. I did that on purpose to avoid you.

And then I thought it was over. I thought FINALLY you got the hint. When I ignored you to your face.

Then I saw you looking at me on the bus a few months after that. Good thing I had readings to do for school so I could pointedly ignore you.

But seriously? The other day? When I was waiting for the bus downtown and listening to music and you got your friend to come up to me and say my name over and over and over until I finally acknowledged him...yeah okay. I am officially getting angry. LEAVE THE THE FUCK ALONE.

I didn't recognize him, obviously, but then I saw you standing there and pretended I didn't know who either of you were ON PURPOSE so you would GO AWAY.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" I asked.

And you were offended and said "You don't remember me?"

I wanted to blatantly point out that no, not everybody remembers every single encounter with every single human being from two fucking years ago. Unfortunately I do remember you, because you are starting to scare me.

Go away. For real.

Never to be yours,

Nova

Ayer: tacones, graffiti, nudity and airshows.

It all started when I got to work and found graffiti drawn on the wall beside the door.

Cute eh? It was in chalk and totally harmless so I left it there. Somebody loves us. Probably a Colin groupie. (all the ladies love Colin)

The snowbirds did an airshow around noon, and my best boss let me go watch for a few minutes. I mean...airplanes. Doing dangerous things. Awesome.

THEN, since the world cup was on in every single pub down the street, there were all these crazy football fans with face paint and 'woo'-ing and wanting tattoos of their team's logo and running into things...totally drunk but funny. The atmosphere was kind of charged with excitement.

And THEN came the naked bicyclers.

I was going to take a bunch of pictures for the blog but I took one and instantly felt like a creep and put away my camera. Even though everybody else on the street was taking videos and stuff.
Here's my picture.

See more here...if you dare.
As you can see, some people wore underwear or pasties or bathing suits, but for the most part they were totally nude. And apparently bicycle seats set the perfect stage for twigs and berries, because they were totally...out there. I saw more penis than I have ever in my entire life. Not cool.

"When the pubes are as long as the wang, that's a problem." - Gerry Kramer

And to top off a wonderful day, after workMister Ryan and I walked down to Red Fish Blue Fish, this totally weird little outdoor restauranty kinda place in the inner harbour. Like, literally they're on a little dock on the ocean.


They serve mostly fish and fish and more fish. And oysters. But I heard through the grapevine that they also had something vegetarian called "edamame tacones" ... which, in Spanish translates to "edamame high-heels" (as in the heel on a woman's shoe)

Sounds appetizing? YES BECAUSE EDAMAME IS THE BEST EVER.

So Ryan and I went down there when I was finished work. He also got a tip that they sell battered deep-fried pickles, so um...yeah. Obviously we tried that too.

Oh and then we saw that they had curry fries. So yeah. Tried those too. Just a small order. To split.


Which turned out to be a lot of food.


Even today I feel greasy on the inside. BUT OMIGOD IT WAS SO DELICIOUS.

Also? Ran into my friend Marie right on the dock. She had circusy makeup on and was carrying a hundred hoola hoops...the kind you light on fire.

So yeah. Yay for yesterday. Life is awesome.

Images stolen from here and here. And Ryan and I took the rest ourselves.