Maybe I’m feeling a little bit more romantic lately, but I loved contributing a little bit to Jenna and Aaron’s special day. You can visit them at aaronjenna.com!

It’s just one of those days – you know, the kind of day where the rain just comes pouring down, and you’ve lost all motivation to do anything productive – like make a living or find a job, and on top of that, there are fucking BUGS in your apartment because you no longer live on the 22nd floor, and they’re just so disgusting, it makes you want to vomit. So here I am sitting alone in my apartment with the bugs wondering what the fuck to do with my time.  Yes, it’s one of those days. I wish I had a punching bag. I’d kick the shit out of it.

On days like this, I just want to make an enormous cake and eat it all, but because I need to live a slightly healthier lifestyle, I decided to make Chicken Biryani instead. My bestfriend taught me how to make it way back when, and I actually don’t remember her recipe exactly, but this recipe tastes so delicious that even if I were making it wrong, I think it’d do her recipe justice.

Recipe feeds 2 and there’s enough for lunch the next day.

Here’s What You’ll Need:

• Basmati Rice. You can use regular white rice too, but Basmati Rice is delicious, and I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to use it
• Chicken Stock
• Salt & Pepper
• Chicken Breast
• Onions
• Curry Powder
• Fresh cilantro
• Some form of vegetable (optional). I used Broccoli because that’s what I had but you can use anything – Cauliflower, peas, carrots.
• Siracha

Directions:
Cook the rice in the chicken broth – 1 cup rice, 2 cups chicken broth.
Dice the onions, the chicken breast the cilantro and your vegetables.
In a separate pan, drizzle some olive oil into the pan, and brown the chicken slightly.
Add the onions, the vegetables (if you have any) and the Cilantro. Give it a stir.
Add in a little less than 1/3 of a cup chicken broth, the salt and pepper, and 3 teaspoons of Curry Powder, and let the vegetables and the meat cook, and the flavours infuse together.
When the rice is soft and ready to eat, add it to the chicken and the vegetables, add a teaspoon of Siracha sauce, and mix everything until all the rice is yellow and smells like heaven.
Then serve!

On the upside, I have a second interview next week with this company I’d just LOVE to work for, and I don’t want to jinx it, but I just hope they love me as much as I love them. Wish me luck!

Turning this into a blog theme:

End Result:

I’m going to say it turned out pretty well! You can visit Jess at http://awhiteunicorn.com

“Being a geek is all about your own personal level of enthusiasm, not how your level of enthusiasm measures up to others. If you like something so much that a casual mention of it makes your whole being light up like a halogen lamp, if hearing a stranger fondly mention your favorite book or game is instant grounds for friendship, if you have ever found yourself bouncing out of your chair because something you learned blew your mind so hard that you physically could not contain yourself — you are a geek.”- Becky Chambers

(via Swiss Miss)

Omelet, I am your father.

I always seem to allow myself to believe that one day God will just stop fucking with me. Like there was that one time  I gave money to a non-homeless person, and then there was that time God ripped the head of a Barbie Doll I was holding right infront of this little girl, or how about that time I walked in on a girl who shat on the walls? See what I mean? God thinks I’m a joke, and as of today, I’m certain that he’s making fun of me because this happened:

So I got on the bus this afternoon hoping to meet a friend, and of course there was traffic, and of course, there were a lot of people, and OF COURSE, I was stuck with some of the most obnoxiously loud girls in the history of loud girls, and I don’t know if they were cracked out or just fucking retarded but they kept singing super loudly and telling people at the back of the bus to keep moving back and in my mind I was like Rosa Parks would not be pleased.

And at one point one girl was like “Can you hear my voice?” and I sat there thinking, “WOMAN, THE BUS NEXT TO US CAN HEAR YOUR VOICE”.

So then I got to the station and of course the metro has just fucking died, and there’s a line out the station doors to get on the metro, so I’m like fuck it, and I go into a bookstore because there’s a Starbucks, and Starbucks makes life so much more tolerable, and of course there is a line there too because God hates me. And I have to brave fast cars and reckless drivers and cross the street so I can go to the other Starbucks. And I finally get there, and all is great, and the next 20 minutes are a breeze, and I’m thinking oh my god, this afternoon is starting to get better, but just as I’m getting out of the bus, this guy swings his massive ass backpack over his shoulders without looking to see if anyone is there, and knocks over my coffee cup, and all my coffee spills all over this girl with Down Syndrome who’s in a wheelchair and can’t even clean herself, and my phone gets submerged into my Vanilla Soy Latte, and I don’t know which to do first – help the girl with Down Syndrome get cleaned up or pick up my $500 phone and there are impatient people waiting for the bus to just fucking go, and I obviously can’t stay on the bus and so I’m panicking, and the bus driver is screaming “don’t worry about it!” and trying to get me off the bus because there is another bus coming and I’m pretty much holding up traffic and everyone’s time, so I pick up my phone, and this other girl helps me move the girl’s stuff, and she is still coffee covered, and I’m trying to find napkins, except that I’m forced off the bus, and I feel so damn bad about everything and in my mind I’m thinking, “where the fuck is the asshole who started this whole thing!” And when I get off the bus I see the guy, and he’s  like “I’m sorry” and of course I’m like “oh no worries” except I’m still responsible for spilling coffee on a girl in a wheelchair, and now my phone is wonky and only half charging, and I’m scared to turn it off because I’m afraid it’ll never turn back on again. And this has been the worst afternoon ever. And God hates me and I’m so thankful my coffee wasn’t scorching hot.

My coffee before it got horribly destroyed.

But in more awesome news, The Bloggess‘ book is featured at my favourite bookstore this week!

Let's Pretend This Never Happened

I’ve spent the majority of my life traveling from one country to another. Everything I own fits into a medium sized Samsonite suitcase, and in that suitcase I have clothes, shoes, a copy of my favourite book, and an agenda that tells me when exactly I’ll be back on a train, a plane or a bus and off to somewhere new. I have lived my life in such a way that I would never be shackled to one city because I have a Mortgage or a pet or massive amounts of furniture.

But as I look around taking note of all the things I still have to pack, I can’t help but notice how many things I’ve acquired in one year, how many boxes I have stacked on top of each other, and how much I’ve changed. I am moving back to Montreal without any plans for moving anywhere else, and I’m looking for a job – a steady one – one that I can see myself still loving one year, maybe even two years, from now. But more than that, I’m no longer moving with just a MacBook and a Samsonite suitcase. I’ve got couches and beds, and a heap of Kitchen stuff, and for the first time in my life, I need a UHaul to help me move.

It’s a big thing for me to not  just sell all my possessions, go and somehow figure it out later. There have been so many times I’ve lashed out at my love and blamed him for me having to move, but as much as I blame him I know that my life is my own, that I could have gone anywhere else in the world, but I chose to go back to Montreal to be with him, and that as uncomfortable as I am with commitments and steady lifestyles, there’s no one else and nowhere else I’d rather commit to.

So bring it on, stuff, and feel free to pile on more. I am so ready for this.

I don't know why all these boxes are upside down.

You know what’s gross? Girls who dress like hoes. Don’t get me wrong, I totally support the hoe-ing industry. A girl’s gotta eat, and if the only way for you to eat is to expose your vagina, well then so be it. Just practice safe sex. And by safe sex I mean, don’t do anything David Carradine would do. HAHA. Too soon?

It’s disgusting how society has turned the word “sexy” into “slutty”, and it’s sad that girls think they look good parading around in dresses that are WAY too tight, with so much of their boobs exposed you’re just like well, why not just wear your frickn boobs outside of your dress? Or better yet, why not just run around butt naked because that’s pretty much what you look like.

And you know what really baffles my mind about this whole thing? Hoes dress like that because they need to get men to pay attention to them – it’s like their JOB to wear next to nothing because they have less than a minute to convince a guy in a car that he needs a blow job.  And girls who don’t work in the hoe-ing industry run around copying the way that girls in the hoe-ing industry dress! LIKE, DON’T YOU SEE WHAT YOU GIRLS LOOK LIKE?  YOU DRESS LIKE GIRLS WHO SUCK DICK FOR A LIVING.

And you know what’s hilarious? Girls who dress like hoes calling other girls hoes. Are you fucking kidding me?

I don’t want to live in this world anymore. It’s so stupid.

How many times can I say hoe in this post.

Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe.Hoe

Sorry mom. If it makes you feel better, I’ve done worst.

Remember that one time I quit this blog and then decided to bring it back mostly because I desperately need an outlet to rage about the ridiculous people and things I have to interact with daily and the 140 character limit on Twitter was just not doing it, but also because I missed the blog I spent 3 years working on – the one that used to get 30,000 hits a day but now only gets like 2. Sad.

Anyway.

You know what’s been really pissing me off lately? People at movie theatres. If we’re going to be honest here, I hate going to the theatres. Most of the time it smells, there’s popcorn on the floor because the people who are supposed to clean it up hate their job (and therefore never do it), and the drinks sizes are WAY too big, which forces me to be that one asshole that has to get up and go to the bathroom multiple times during the movie, and manages to trip over EVERYONE on their way out.

I went to see Shrek one time, and had to get up to pee so many times, I couldn’t go back into the theatre because people were giving me horrible glares, and I just couldn’t face the crowd. So for 45 minutes, I sat outside the theatre and waited for my friend. I bought the DVD when it came out and finished the movie – honestly, not that disappointed I missed the last 45 minutes of the movie.

You know what other movie I could have not seen? Hunger Games. Seriously – so overrated. Where were the brutal killing scenes? Why was there sappy ass music playing when people were dying? Why did this turn out to be a love story? Where are the vampires?

Maybe I should have read the book.

What was this post about again? …

Oh right. People at movie theatres.

I hate people who talk during movies, which is why I don’t go often. Like really? That guy just got shot in the dick? I had no fucking clue. Not that it was just on the big screen, and everyone saw him get shot in the dick, but thanks for telling me! I’ll make sure to watch the movie next time.  Asshole.

Lesson to be taken away from this: if you’re ever in a movie theatre with me, shut your trap, or I’m going to plug it with my fist.

Want to know what I’ve been up to lately? Check this out: http://twentieshacker.com/

On any given day, I spend at least 8hrs wondering what I’m doing with my life. Sometimes, I’m certain that I’m going down the right path- that somehow, being a Community Manager will lead me to a life I never could have imagined. Other times, my heart starts racing, and I think about all the changes and country-hopping I’ve made and done since I graduated, and I think about how I’m 25, and how this is THE time to get it together, and I panic because I haven’t gotten it together. Not even close. In fact, I’m not even sure I’m on the right path to where I’m going. For all I know I could be going in the complete opposite direction! And this journey– this obsession with the unknown and the figuring it all out, it’s exhausting, and at some point you just want to give up, except that giving up makes me feel like a failure. Like I had dreams and I didn’t even bother to fight for them. Except that, as of right now, I don’t even know what my dreams are, and my biggest fear, my deepest darkest secret that nobody knows, is that MAYBE I have no dreams. MAYBE I’ve been heading in a direction that goes nowhere, doing things that don’t even matter to me. MAYBE I just live to pay the bills. How fucking sad especially when I’ve lived the first 25 years of my life believing I was in the direction of great, no, MONUMENTAL things. And these fears, they’re constantly at the back of mind and while I want to do everything, I’m also too afraid to do anything.

But today I made a decision. I decided to just say fuck it. Fuck the dream. Fuck the fear. Fuck the way my heart beats every time someone mentions how they know exactly what they want to do in life. I don’t have it figured it out and I am okay with that because I am trying out new things, and I might spend my entire life trying out new things, but that also means that by the end of my life, I’ll have learned a whole bunch of shit I never could have learned if I hadn’t made that decision.

So this is what I’m going to do: I’m going to live my life one day at a time, figure things out as they come to me and not before, and I’m going to live, love, laugh, cry and I’m going to be fucking awesome at improvisation because maybe that’s what my dream is: to live life as it comes to me, and if 20 years down the road,I figure out what my purpose is on this earth, well.. we’ll talk then.