tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-304699672011-06-07T23:41:48.101-07:00Bad news should always / be delivered in Haiku: / Kept short; to the point.Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.comBlogger641100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-65368018226600524382007-06-30T08:39:00.001-07:002007-06-30T08:43:43.840-07:00

I'm finding I've been saying a lot of dumb or inappropriate or nonsensical things lately. Like I'm trying to be funny and fit in (maybe that's the problem... that I'm trying) and I make a reference or allusion to something I figure people will get -- even reference to a past conversation we had -- and either it takes them a minute or a lifetime but they don't quite get what I'm on about.I don't

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-22088044819873406392007-06-24T23:05:00.000-07:002007-06-24T23:21:17.102-07:00

This is a letter to you.I'm excited. I'm excited for you. Of course, it sounds like you have some battles ahead, but at least you've found your PASSION again.You want a good body, you want a good life, you've found a new hobby; you've found your new wife.It's as though I've been living on a sunny grassy field, and I wanted to show you how warm and bright it is, but you're stuck standing under the

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-10732135043151260562007-05-22T08:16:00.000-07:002007-05-22T08:28:51.282-07:00

It doesn't matter what she does, I'll always know Ricki Lake from "Hairspray," a film made almost 20 years ago -- a film I remember watching with a cousin down in Cali.I was just getting coffee (a capp really) and saw her on the latest cover of US or whatever the mag was, and she's like 123lbs now. She had been stuck at 160lbs (pretty much my weight) for awhile but took two months to go down to

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-36585708109472334692007-05-10T08:17:00.001-07:002007-06-24T23:22:15.187-07:00

They way people look at me sometimes you'd think I had a ball of pus ballooning out of my head.PEOPLE ARE DUMBSo, like, it's not rocket science, eh? The cordless phone my roomate has is 2.4 GHz. It says so on the phone. Whenever the phone is in use, it seems that the Internet quits. The Internet is connected wirelessly, through a Linksys router. I suspected by this strange coincidence that the

Chickadee Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13323058985073996194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-57163430546950868002007-04-23T14:28:00.000-07:002007-04-23T14:29:50.121-07:00

I know you found this blog dorkface. You cheated! You were supposed to use physical clues, not e-cheats. Call me when you see this, dork.

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-76382656036783832162007-04-20T14:07:00.000-07:002007-04-23T17:54:57.838-07:00

On the bus ride home today from my second home-office I typed up to following page on my laptop. The electric trolley buses are so smooth and quiet, which makes laptopping on them very much possible when the crowds are down. I'm facing the prospect now of being away from my love for the better part of a few -- we plan to visit each other for some weekends, but neither of us have much money to

Chickadee Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13323058985073996194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-16350798382509125102007-04-20T13:55:00.000-07:002007-04-20T14:06:28.837-07:00

[sigh] after me getting so mad it him.. he had already been to the skidsgate mall and ordered a beautiful bouquet of pink lillies and roses to be sent to my hotel room for the weekend. They were wonderful. They're just on the ripe end now... and smell so sweet. I'm such a bad girlfriend for getting on his case... but how was I supposed to know he was different from all the rest!?

Chickadee Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13323058985073996194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-59158653584358465512007-04-11T19:42:00.000-07:002007-04-11T19:46:07.890-07:00

All I want is a nice bouquet, right? Like not even red roses....daisies I prefer. Sunflower-bright goofy flowers. Orchids. Anything pretty and exotic, and preferably not too smelly, right?It's been four months and he hasn't given me flowers. What the hell do I have to do to deserve them eh?When I try to bring the matter up, even in a playful way, all I get is the same crapola that a real shitty

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-15068848441923581632007-04-09T18:25:00.000-07:002007-04-09T18:35:21.908-07:00

So I got accepted into the journalism graduate program of my dreams.... a FedEx last Wednesday said it all. I waited until boy-toy and I could open it together, in the lineup to go see the preview of Grinhouse. He had a surprised disbelief OMG smile on, and told me to open the FedEx envelope. I was afraid he'd be upset right away because this meant we wouldn't be able to be together; he hid his

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-52995315081398418882007-03-21T18:35:00.000-07:002007-03-21T18:39:46.238-07:00

SO yeah. I've been missing in action. Laziness? Forgetting to blog? Exhausted? All of the above. Relationship still going strong, though I wish the dude would bring me flowers or gifts or something every now and then. I also wish he'd initiate more: dates, plans, conversations, sex, etc. Why am I steering in every relationship I get into?Anyhow, it's the end of the day, so a tired a frazzled me

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1170308785015943292007-01-31T20:48:00.000-08:002007-02-06T15:35:37.723-08:00

I heart you, I fuck you, I really really like you: everything he says but the eL word. He does not know what it means anymore, he says. Fine.But I am getting antsy.See that engagement ring? The boy I lost my virginity just gave that to a lovely lady right before XMas time..but he PROPOSED last May. Sort of. They were probably drun-talking; but to even talk about marriage after only dating 2

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1169627903171344462007-01-24T00:29:00.000-08:002007-01-24T00:38:23.206-08:00

Okay...I meant to start this post with a quotation of my own invention... something like "There's a fine line between persistence and psychosis..." or "There's a fine line between being driven and being delusional..." and then "...and that line is blurred significantly by gin."But then I actually sipped the ice-cold naked dry gin martini I poured (i.e. gin. from the freezer. in a glass. that's it

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1169236573120481602007-01-19T11:52:00.000-08:002007-01-19T11:56:13.140-08:00

I just read over the past week Michael Finkel's True Story: Murder, Memoir, Mea Culpa.He fabricated a character in a news story and got caught. Mayhem ensues.I'm also now reading some cases of journalistic fraud (Jayson Blair, Stephen Glass) to study for questions on journalism ethics that might be on my Columbia J-School admissions test. The same theme keeps popping up, other than lying. These

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1169190143552479092007-01-18T21:14:00.000-08:002007-01-18T23:02:23.650-08:00

So I was 16 minutes late on top of the 10 minutes I'd already said I'd be late...but MBF (My BOYFRIEND, formerly known as Mr. NOT-So-Called) couldn't stay mad at me for long. We had a nice dinner in a Korean-Chinese joint with a great third-story view of some of the city and the street below; then we went to see Children of Men, where we sat in the very back corner, and MBF had some fun with me

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1168985290385668602007-01-16T14:00:00.000-08:002007-01-16T14:08:10.403-08:00

Mr. not-so-called (as in ...my boyfriend? No...we're not "calling" it that yet..) was getting dressed in the late morning on Sunday. He put on his regular pants and studded belt, and proceeded to pull the cute black "biker" bicycle hub T-shirt I also own and like so much. I was watching from the chair in the living room, twisted around from his computer where I was probably downloading dirty

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1168647133613693792007-01-12T16:04:00.000-08:002007-01-16T13:57:12.596-08:00

You know how those checklists for mental disorders always include stuff like "persistent invasive thoughts" "little voices talking at you" "inability to focus".Well, lock me up. I am going to have to face it and declare tonight as my last night of freedom. I have seriously, to the detriment of my career, been not fulfilling one particularly important obligation and it is past the East German

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1168552236123684612007-01-11T13:47:00.000-08:002007-01-16T14:10:47.603-08:00

From Salon.com here.Because, of course, like many other writers, I hate myself. I just fucking hate myself. I hate my writing. I hate my writing. I hate my writing. I hate my fucking voice in my head. I hate all the voices in my head. I wish for nothing so much as silence and contentment, but I have to keep talking because I believe if I keep talking I stay alive. If I stop talking, I die. That's

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1168543300218041012007-01-11T10:59:00.000-08:002007-01-11T11:25:28.580-08:00

Before engaging in any serious discussions with "girl", boy must use the following checklist to ascertain whether the serious discussion can be held or must be delayed.Ask "girl":1) Are you PMS-ing? (Follow-up: If so, have you had your chocolate and backrub today?)2) Are you over-tired? (Follow-up: Are you sure you want to talk instead of napping?)3) Have you been reading love-advice

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1168541959567719162007-01-11T10:57:00.000-08:002007-01-11T10:59:19.566-08:00

Here's a recent photo of my legs... I took this to send to Mr. not-so-called.

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1168541799844436662007-01-11T10:43:00.001-08:002007-01-11T10:56:39.863-08:00

Yes. I haven't updated. But I know my audience of 1 (me!) is understanding.Two nights ago I had a great drink-dinnerish date with a fellow writer. Though he's going to blaspheme and switch to TV (let's face it; iz where the moneyz at!) it was really nice being on the same page as someone else for now -- someone trying to make a living by freelancing. (He gets to travel way more than I do...but

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1167283278687381762006-12-27T21:09:00.000-08:002006-12-27T21:21:18.736-08:00

So, after "the wine incident" as my previous post describes, I am ignored by the KBB (Kevin Bacon Boy). Meanwhile at the same "Global Warming Party" (READ: excuse to turn up the heat and get everyone to strip) KBB gets a stern lecture from another lady and acts civil to me..but he already replaced his fan-girl it turns out. C'est la vie.Of course I was hurt...we rode back towards our homes

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1167282568965348102006-12-27T21:07:00.000-08:002006-12-27T21:09:28.966-08:00

So....I posted this to the same craigslist catergory (w4m) about two weeks after the first post. I got a lot of interest, let me tell you. 180+ responses to the first post..maybe 10 of them decent (i.e. wrote not a form response, good spelling, humour, not totally-out-to-lunch in terms of expectations or age range, etc.) But..like I said I was in love with someone else! Wooo.... but then....I had

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1167282411086840032006-12-27T21:03:00.000-08:002006-12-27T21:06:51.113-08:00

This is what I posted on November 28th to Craigslist Vancouver. Just a recap, yo.It's about *me* this time - 28Reply to: pers-241245592@craigslist.orgDate: 2006-11-28, 1:58PM PSTI must be really out to lunch, but I don't see much being offered in the M4W postings. Too many guys (writing with egregious typos, btw) looking for sex-on-the-side or asking "what do you have to lose?" ("What do I have

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1165696373529360422006-12-09T12:05:00.000-08:002006-12-09T12:32:53.546-08:00

Hey..so I don't know who reads this, but I've been expressing myself a few other places of late. With good responses, generally. Two posts I put up recently had to do with me being sick of finding myself with guys who think _it_ is all about them. It's about *me* sometimes too, you know! I've been reading "Conversations with God" by Neale Donald Walsch, and I have to say it's a pretty darn good

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1163700043439603452006-11-16T09:55:00.000-08:002006-11-16T10:02:43.970-08:00

I'm posting these hastily made demotivators based on the texts of The Tao of Snark.You may recall I made a www.despair.com demotivator here.Okay! I got a nice little note from my sweetie of an editor to get my ass in gear. Coffee? Check. Tunes? Check. Vroom Vroom!

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1163487790197736312006-11-13T22:59:00.001-08:002006-11-13T23:10:53.493-08:00

This is my auto-click creation from this site. And... I'm not sure what this says about me or the state of my mental health. A drag male-femme pirate with two ciggies, a flowery drink, angel's wings, pink eyeshadow, sword *and* umbrella -- and looking mighty green to boot. I'm covered in blood.This is, mind you, how my soul feels -- nay is -- right now.

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1162852885953444842006-11-06T14:35:00.000-08:002006-11-06T14:41:25.966-08:00

I just "wasted" hours surfing blogs of screenwriters, writers, literary agents, etc. and then I started googling old classmates. Most of the people I remember from elementary school have no web presence -- I know I can't count on maiden names, so I googled mostly guys. Where are they?I moved onto college people. Found one guy I once dated...he's not as cute now as I remembered him then. I'm

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1162845310221473642006-11-06T11:42:00.000-08:002006-11-06T12:35:10.556-08:00

I borrowed some quotations off this site: http://www.beautifulstuff.org/, but the site-keeper hasn't posted in just about a year. What happened to him?Anyhow, here are my acquisitions:We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled.The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves overand let the beautiful stuff out." --Ray Bradbury“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1162779552160483432006-11-05T18:14:00.000-08:002006-11-05T18:19:12.180-08:00

This is just for myself to get my thoughts in order:0) look at Yukon News again....hmmmm1) finish %^$%^$%^ piece I'm working on2) apply to grad school3) investigate several stories: port expansion, CFS, roses, couriering, the bean trade, the iron ring, plastic bags, placentas. 4) spend a whole day with magazines and papers and find sections / publications to target5) decide on a screenplay6)

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1162776474936424582006-11-05T17:03:00.000-08:002006-11-05T17:29:24.526-08:00

Y.B. Yeats wrote:Turning and turning in the widening gyreThe falcon cannot hear the falconer;Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhereThe ceremony of innocence is drowned;The best lack all conviction, while the worstAre full of passionate intensity.Surely some revelation is at hand;Surely the Second Coming is at

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1162489116284313292006-11-02T09:11:00.000-08:002006-11-02T09:38:36.310-08:00

I'm ready to be single again for, like, a year I guess.It would have been nice to have someone to smooch on my birthday; even nicer to have a jolly St. Nick to cuddle up to; even nicer to ring in the New Year with a lover, but I'm going to have to pass.I feel he's just not that into me. Yes, right now he's stressed with a) lack of money, b) new job (bike messenger-ing...sexy!), c) possible cold,

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1161749853076376832006-10-24T21:00:00.000-07:002006-10-24T22:02:07.566-07:00

PS!There's this great woman, Liz, who gets really excited when she has something to add in to a group conversation. She always says "oh! PS!" And then delivers the message, like, "PS! I love that colour on you," or "PS! I had fun tonight!" or "PS! It's cold out!"You get the idea? I've picked up on the random and unecessary statement-prefacing with "PS."So, PS! I have a new vision for my next few

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1161747701634519292006-10-24T20:19:00.000-07:002006-10-24T20:41:41.656-07:00

Would it be shocking to admit that my specialty is procrastination?I mean, yes, I do remember the pleasure of starting an essay the day it was assigned; of doing math homework right away; of staying up late just to get a jump on the next day's tasks. But, in reality, I procrastinate. Sometimes where it hurts.I procrastinated my undergraduate thesis, and hence graduation, for four full terms. I

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1161625880773749952006-10-23T10:45:00.000-07:002006-10-23T11:15:32.620-07:00

It's amazing how things turn around; a sure thing is all but and a long shot is actually pretty damn close.If you had asked me last week to put money on who I was likelier to get closer to, I would have bet on the close-to-my-age community-involved juggler dude who I had a great 6-hour-long coffee-and-drinks-and-business date last week. We just so hit it off. Four days came and went though...and

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1161310853312734542006-10-19T18:55:00.000-07:002006-10-19T19:21:28.606-07:00

I don't know if October is traditionally Scorpio-pick-up days or what, but every fall seems to be my romantic-interest time of bloom. Somehow this always coordinates to end up in missed-connection-Hallowe'ens, dysfunctional birthdays (for me ) in November, and two-month breakups just before Christmas and New Years: Whee!I went on a date yesterday! My first date in over ten months! (note timing:

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1161035189178972912006-10-16T14:37:00.000-07:002006-10-16T14:46:29.190-07:00

CBC is playing a wonderful cello suite right now - wish I knew the name! (Ah! They just said it was Bach's suite #1 in G Major)It conjures visions of the countryside and tea and rambling amongst sheep. It makes me want to go to England again, but then, so does he.Would New York do instead?I spent hours last night getting to know the young man I've grown to have a crush on. I wish I could ask him

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1160855461727949622006-10-14T12:31:00.000-07:002006-10-14T12:53:56.146-07:00

So my "sudden" concern for my looks comes about because, yes, I have a crush. Actually three crushes, and I think they'll all be at the same party tonight, along with a bunch of my exes.I guess I'm not that ugly and repulsive, if I have a big string of exes! Then again, exes only prove that I fail at relationships. Whatever. I hate logic.So this "party" isn't like the shoot-em-up parties of my

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1160854287536924002006-10-14T12:23:00.000-07:002006-10-14T12:31:27.546-07:00

So I went and did some of those virtual model renderings (don't you love that word used in graphics? Render! You render meat and chicken feet..and graphics. Ick.) Here's what Chickadee Williams looks like (on the leftmost) and a few lesser-poundage options.I think that my hip-to-waist ratio is a little more exaggerated, but overall the leftmost figure is pretty accurate. The blonde on the right

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1160600362372811312006-10-11T13:58:00.000-07:002006-10-11T13:59:22.393-07:00

I've partially convinced myself that while print is not dead, print journalists are. I think that to be successful in the field these days you need to cross media as a personality: any of a radio, film, literature, TV presence will help cement you as "a voice" that people want to hear more from, and suddenly there is a market for your writing. A lot of people can write the same article on the

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1160344907726413512006-10-08T14:54:00.000-07:002006-10-08T15:01:47.740-07:00

I've heard that print is dead. It's not that people don't read it, but it isn't profit-positive. Supported by TV networks, I hear.TV news is also stagnant. 65 years old. crippled. hanging-on. No one likes to listen to him anymore; he just re-spins the same stories and forgets a lot.What to do?I think the Internet will play a more important role, and some bloggers have and will rise to the status

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1160343789389745112006-10-08T14:24:00.000-07:002006-10-08T14:43:09.410-07:00

I'm stuck in a mire, desire, on fire.I have to finish a major piece of work. Contract. Fine, I get it.My procrastination has reached epic heights, not so much because of fear or failure, or boredome or whatever other excuses exist, but because on the other side of this epic work is no-woman's-land.I have no love interest, no job prospect, no further deadline, nada. Nothing to look forward to, no

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1159652785784741302006-09-30T14:28:00.000-07:002006-09-30T14:46:25.800-07:00

First of all, Google seems to be broken, and it has been difficult for me to get on without it. Like if coffee went extinct. This is obviously a warning to me that I am too reliant on Google, and I need to find some Internet redundancy fail-safe.Secondly, I realise I have no temper. As Sister Jo, a high-school-teacher-slash-nun taught me just over a decade ago, it is the people without tempers

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1159378981854550282006-09-27T10:36:00.000-07:002006-09-27T10:43:01.880-07:00

So yes, inspired off of Brooke Busey-Hunt's web site entry for September 22nd, I've created my own Demotivator. In case you were wondering Diablo Cody (a.k.a B. B-H above) stripped, wrote in her journal, and then was asked to compile her memoirs by a literary agent who discovered her after some blog fenangling and networking.And yes, for the record, my bitterness continues to pervade all, hence

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1159378587079143592006-09-27T09:49:00.001-07:002006-09-27T10:36:27.116-07:00

Maybe it is sour grapes, but I'm getting pretty sick at what I perceive to be the success of others in my field: journalism and (hopefully one day) fiction work.When I see graduates of the local rinky-dink diploma program snapping up staffer jobs - non-advertised jobs, mind you - I get snarky like this literary agent's gin.I'm stuck in a Catch-22 where I'm missing deadlines and not excelling

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1159160021507770662006-09-24T20:59:00.000-07:002006-09-24T21:53:41.573-07:00

You've heard the saying that reality creates crazier circumstances than fiction writers could ever imagine? It's not just a saying. I suppose that the unification of imaginative-problem solving (or boredom-resolving) skills and setting (time, place) plus fully-formed characters to react is more apt to happen in the real world than on the page. This weekend for example.There was a big bicycling

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1157066477820780862006-08-31T16:16:00.000-07:002006-08-31T16:24:00.416-07:00

The sun in Vancouver. This is what is does: It will bear down upon the land for days, weeks even without relenting. Dry the grass to a crisp. Wilt the roots, stir up dust from the ground - ground that isn’t used to being less than soup. Then, grey skies descend and bathe the world in pasty light, tempting us with relief. A discarded box of Tide by the bus stop looks positively pastel; rose bushes

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1156711088104918782006-08-27T13:37:00.000-07:002006-08-27T13:38:08.150-07:00

Brief impressions from the road:The Alaska Ferry – worth it for the 1974 bar. Velvet wallpaper, gold booths, globe lights, velvet painting of Elvis. Had a grasshopper and very refreshing Alaskan brand beer. Take this boat.Ketchikan, AK – wow, cruise ships have taken over. The old town of pubs is now a stroll of tarted-up jewelry. For cruise ship passengers. The cruise lines own the old part of

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1155946961296346242006-08-18T17:14:00.000-07:002006-08-18T17:22:41.310-07:00

No, they're not good enough for me.I haven't been able to login to Blogger for a week or so because of cookie problems. Somehow this site was set to "Always Block" in a sub-menu of IE6's cookie jar. Whatever.I write from pirated Internet in the truest sense: I am offshore in a vessel, plundering from the shore. I'm on the Surrey-cruise: the Alaska ferry. (Better than BC ferries, not quite a

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1155058783842598132006-08-08T10:34:00.000-07:002006-08-08T10:43:00.456-07:00

What a (long) weekend: Sparks caffeinated malt-liquor and biker punks in Seattle, and then strange mountain-goat-like appearances up in Garibaldi Park. No time spent in the city... which lets me appreciate the following snippet all the more:"...the ingenious way in which Vancouver taps wealth from some of the world's ugliest veins, while becoming more healthy and pretty every day."This is from

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1154462184106796862006-08-01T12:55:00.000-07:002006-08-01T12:56:24.120-07:00

You Are a Jelly DonutSo you're a little rounder than most folks - but it's only in the right places!You maintain a clean exterior, even if you're all messy on the inside.You think you're the best, and that's mostly true...But remember, you're just an empty shell without your jelly!What Donut Are You?

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1154206819675195852006-07-29T13:54:00.000-07:002006-09-27T10:48:14.486-07:00

Ooohhh..he used the word "moribund," which had been stuck in my head for two days. I still have to look it up.Anyways, I'm reading The Unconscious Civilization by John Ralston Saul and two thoughts came to mind:1) Roses are totally unethical. Especially in February. I'll have to do some pre-search for next year's Valentine's Adbusters issue.2) ...perhaps the reason more women aren't in

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1154073287815481822006-07-28T00:52:00.000-07:002006-07-28T00:54:47.833-07:00

Oh why do I stay up way late, just to fiddle with Skype so that I can record skphone skconversations with pirated software? Is it because a cute boy tried to Skcontact me on Skype and I fumbled badly by not knowing how to 'pick up' and sktalk?Nah....

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1154034173407806022006-07-27T13:58:00.000-07:002006-07-27T14:02:53.406-07:00

One note about a previous post on my suspicion of insulin-resistance: I went to get my fasting glucose tested today. Easy. I'll see the results in a bit. I'm reading about gallstones (which I know I have from an ultrasound years ago that was looking in the same region for something else). Gallstones can cause interference of junk with the pancreas...which can lead to (surprise) insuling problems.

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1154033695106693702006-07-27T13:45:00.000-07:002006-07-27T13:54:55.126-07:00

Okay. I'm officially jealous of Diablo Cody.Yes, granted the name Chickadee Williams is waaaaayy less cool than her name, it isn't as if I copied her in the pseudonym-idea department. I copied some long-dead people. So did she. That's not the issue.The issue isn't her mad-stripper skillz, the fact that she married an apparently choice rocker (who she is buying house #2 with), her hair extensions

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1153438571939476402006-07-20T16:02:00.000-07:002006-07-20T16:36:11.980-07:00

Like many women of a certain age (young-ish!), I've been having cycle problems, acne problems, etc.Years ago when cysts were discovered growing and receeding on my ovaries (it hurts!) I eventually got a blood test that showed too much testosterone in my blood. This is bad because it blocks the actions of estrogen, one of which happens to be increading bone density. Okay: along with the

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1153356923921152322006-07-19T17:07:00.000-07:002006-07-19T17:55:23.936-07:00

Firstly - flush toilets are, like, the best invention ever! (Picture blonde hair tossing and danglin earrings threatening the throats of passersby as this statement is ejected.) Seriously. They're not a great idea for the environment, but gosh if they aren't an under-appreciated luxury. Like hot water.Secondly - I am addicted to tests and getting acceptanace and/or approval. Yes. I took the LSAT

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1153149016030797532006-07-17T08:08:00.000-07:002006-07-17T08:10:16.043-07:00

Despite the sneaky ability to weasel into events by claiming one should have a press pass (as I no doubt witnessed at some point this weekend at the Folk Fest) "journalists" have one other major job perk: you can, without lying, tell telemarketers that you are a member of the media and then...they have to set you free. You're no good to them.Finally, a rejection that feels great.

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1152809593966022142006-07-13T09:44:00.000-07:002006-07-13T09:59:50.253-07:00

I have to briefly rant about... PR people. "PR" doesn't stand for "Public Relations" asmuch as "Pretty Rude," "Pathetically Redundant," and "PartyPooping RatBastard."I shudder at the thought that communications (and even journalism!) programs are churning out grads whose ambition it is to double-speak and verbally protect their big government and/or corporate bosses. They're no good for

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1152638405896243862006-07-11T10:08:00.000-07:002006-07-11T10:20:05.906-07:00

Gosh I was lonely yesterday. Not in a wish-a-had-a-lover or why-don't-I-have-better-friends kind of way; it's just that I have all these thoughts and questions in my head and I can't think of a single person who a) would care enough to listen to me ramble on without interrupting to talk about themselves (unaware they do this, of course) and b) would have any basis of understanding of my concerns

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1152144909346632832006-07-05T17:09:00.000-07:002006-07-05T17:15:09.353-07:00

I no longer see makeup as shallow, superficial, unecessary fashion. It is war paint; ultimately going to war against mortality, age, obsolescence, dullness.War paint is meant to terrify your enemies: to make you look supernatural, beyond this world.Does makeup not do the same?Okay, I confess I bought some eyeliner today after years of resisting. I thought it used to make me look like a lady of

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1151800357312514012006-07-01T16:49:00.000-07:002006-07-01T17:32:37.326-07:00

So, we've got plenty of terms for the types of diets that plants and animals, including humans, partake in - but I feel the list isn't complete: (If you need help with any of these terms, I suggest a lookup on Wikipedia.)There's the general classifications of:vegetarian - plant-based (a cow's diet)carnivore - flesh-based (a cat's diet, though they snack on some grasses for kicks.)omnivore - mmmm,

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1151697453418460072006-06-30T12:55:00.000-07:002006-06-30T12:57:33.426-07:00

"You know you have only one life. You know it is a precious, extraordinary, unrepeatable thing: the product of billions of years of serendipity and evolution. So why waste it by handing it over to the living dead?"-George Monbiot, on not going the 'safe' corporate zombie route (August 6, 2000)

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1151649586749205182006-06-29T23:38:00.000-07:002006-06-29T23:39:46.756-07:00

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30469967.post-1151646470092752342006-06-29T22:26:00.000-07:002006-06-29T22:47:50.100-07:00

One of my five roomates was sitting around the other day, feeling lackadaisical and morose despite the beautiful unseasonally warm summer afternoon (it seems unnatural for the rain level in RainLand to go below "pissing" until the first week of September), and so we sat in the darkened wood-floor livingroom and indulged in "Grizzly Man.""Grizzly Man" is not the tale of that guy from Manitoba

Rhiannon Coppinnoreply@blogger.com0