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Archive for the ‘Old Baggage’ Category

Blogging We will go…2

Posted by gmadrid on May 14, 2007

Okay so I just got rid of the hcvp’s photoblog. You can find it all here, or better yet over at Another Freak in the Freakdom

I moved everything to that blog that was at the other one and made one.

-Ginger C. Madrid

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Old Baggage (part 1)

Posted by hcvp on December 8, 2006

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Hair Today

So I managed to get just under $200 of my debt down in the last few weeks. Not a great amount, but some none the less.
And with the buying season upon us, that is a step in the right direction.
Decided to pick up a bleaching kit cause just couldnt afford to go to the stylist for a colouring. My stylist did give me a cut, and it looks as great as always. But since last time I coloured my own hair I ended throwing out half the mix, this time I only used half, storing the rest for next time. The downside is that I didnt use enough of the actual colouring powder, and instead of my yellowy blonde it came out more reddish blonde (almost orange). I am only sightly more acceptable of being a redhead then I am of being brunette. (having dark hair makes me cry) so, at lest in two weeks it will be grown out enough to rebleach.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Smart Woman?

I was channel surfing this evening, and came across WNetwork.
One of my favourite channels here in Canada.
Tonight’s lineup included two back to back episodes of “Till Debt Do Us Part.” and I got thinking about just how much I am in debt myself. I was more then embarrassed to find out that I am in way over my head with the dollar vaule of my debt. This got me down. I then caught myself on another binge. The refrigerator door open without being hungry. Another reason to get mad at myself, because I managed to gain weight over the last 2 1/2 months.
So now, I am on a determined trail to shead pounds and dollars from my waist and debt.
I was looking for a reason to turn this blog around from the dust it’s gathered lately and into something productive and now I think I have it. Over the course of the next year I plan to turn myself and this blog into something other then a tired old bag.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

me

this one is the name sake of the blog “alucard’s rose”

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Martini Blue: Misadventures in Flower Delivery

Posted by hcvp on November 19, 2006

This is one that used to be under my blog Martini Blue, but I have decided to just copy it all here and get rid of that blog.

Room Service…Candygram…Landshark!





Okay these are old posts from a blog that I was having troubles with so I will start by just coping them here for now….

  • hey, its supper time here, 6:17pm on a monday. the weekend sucked as usual, and its been raining all day here. why did i call it martini blue? it has to do with something that was a happier time for me. has to do with a friend whom i miss.
  • anyone who knows me, knows why i call this place the Tip of Lake Crap! and that goes for anyone who lives here too, not only does this city smell (the north side of town blames it on the paper mill the south side of town blames it on the harbour) but there is nothing to do in this place. what are we famous for? nothing as far as i can tell, just a giant chunk of rock out in the lake shaped like a sleeping giant, and what did they call it? The Sleeping Giant! how orginal! and therefore everything in town has the sleeping giant in its title. how clueless can the people around here be? well, considering that streets dont flow in any proper order, they jump from numbers 77 to 349, and there is hardly any east or north listings around here, just streets when you can find a street sign.

    heres my pic copyright hcvp 2005



  • its fishguts day, the grocery just 4 buildings down had their daily delivery of seafood, and the smell of it lingered on the air all morning, the sounds of the birds as they cried to each other, swooping and diving for their happymeals between the dumpsters and the weekly trash. bold in their own design as they stare each other, and the cars down marking their territory with fallen feathers. beware the crows for they might try to beat you to it, to your free dinner here on fishguts day as you little Sully sit in flocks of 20 or more infront of the grocery and on its roof.


    copyrite hcvp 2006

  • From the Hearts Florist 567 Memorial Avenue 345-3652 mon-fri 9am-6pm sat 9am-5pm
  • Vaillant Florist 178 Algoma Street North 345-4245 http://www.vaillantflorist.com
  • Mama Alfa’s Pizzeria 4-135 Frederica East 623-4567
  • Red Earth Imports 194 Algoma Street South
  • the other part of the crimefighting (flower delivery) duo. shes the wheelman, i am just the navagator.

    coptwrite hcvp 2006

  • the days sometimes float by becoming one large hour. and on those days nothing seems to go right. we have had crazy weather, with it foggy and raining alot. When doing flowers, weather is your worst enemy, that and time. But there are moments when this city is pretty.

    copywrite hcvp 2006

  • Thats how I am feeling about yesterday’s deliveries. Not the deliveries themselves, but one of the workers from one of the shops. I have been working with/for my aunt’s company now for 3 years, my cousin started to work 2 months ago. We are both able to handle the amount of flowers/fruit baskets that are produced. Unlike other delivery companies we work some nights untill 10pm. Yesterday we were the only ones doing the deliveries, my aunt had a doctor’s appointment in the middle of the day. My cousin and I were left in charge of things. The one worker who puts together the batches of flowers phoned just before my aunt went off to her appointment to see what time it was scheduledfor. Then suddenly there was nothing to deliver for over an hour. Empty shop. That shouldn’t have been considering there is a major funeral this week. Then we got a van full at one time. No worries we are professonals we have done this before. My aunt came back to work after her doctor’s appointment and things were going swell till the phone started ringing. It was the one worker suddenly asking if house #427 StreetNameHere was done yet? I said we are at their door right now doing it. 20 minutes later the phone rings again, and it’s her again wanting to know where we are. I tell her on our way to the shop, she tells me not to bother there are no more for the day. All is fine, we now have half a van for the funeral from the other shop, so funerals come first. Then the phone rings again and it’s her again. My aunt answered that time and she trys to say that there was a rush order that didnt get done that had been put on the van 3 hours before. My aunt tells her that she picked up that order herself and it did not have “RUSH” listed on it, nor was it 3hours before. Plus we were behind because this worker had the wrong address and name listed on one order. Her screwup and need to control everything blew up in her face.
  • On Sept 1 2006 I was in a car accident while doing the flowers with my cousin. He was driveing, I was the passanger when a pickup druck came flying down the street and right into my side of the van. I ended up with a collapsed lung, mutlible broken ribs, a broken shoulder and thumb. I have been told I shouldnt be walking yet, but I am. After spending 7 weeks in hospital I was released home. It could take a full year to recover, and needless to say, I am done with flower deliveries. Therefore this is the end of this blog. Thank you and good day.

These blogs were orginally written between April 4 2006-Nov 4 2006.

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HotelCigarettes

Posted by hcvp on November 4, 2006


I have decided to downsize alot of the blogs I have around the web, because I just have too many and they take up too much time trying to work on them all. So since this one particular blog only had 3 entries in it, I have copied them here and removed the orginal blog.

August 19, 2006

My Uncle was telling me about this one night when a woman came in with her son and daughter and the daughter’s boyfriend. Not too strange. They got two rooms, again nothing strange about that. About 2 hours after they checked in the cops arrrived at the hotel. The woman had called them because the boyfriend of her daughter had started to get violent. He ended up breaking the vending machine on the second floor, as well as the lamp in the one room and the lock on the door. The son was fast asleep in the other room and claimed when the cops spoke to him that he heard nothing. Strange considering four other guests on their floor demaned their money back because of the noise. The woman ended up having to pay for the damanges.

August 15, 2006 One of the other night staff a few months ago had to deal with a group of teenagers staying in from Montreal. They were there for a school trip. Music class by the amount of guitars they had. Two of them were dating, when they got there, but not when they left 3 days later. The boy who by the look of things NightStaff said “was the lead.” Translation {he was the most popular boy in school and the head of the music class} The girl she said “was the beta” Translation {the prettiest of the group} At one point the boy was sitting in the lobby with his guitar, and told to be quiet or take it to his room cause the other guests were complaining of the noise. He got huffy and stormed outside stating that “I will go outside on the street and make money busking” {this city that is illegal} We all laughed once he was outside, well they {the NightStaffer, my Aunt and Uncle} I let the mad fit of laughter out while he was standing there cause I am evil. The girl wandered out into the lobby in her pjs and no shoes crying cause he had just broke up with her a few hours before. This was to be the sceen for the next few days at the hotel, her wandering around like a zombie with tears. Needless to say, sitting around that hotel that weekend was less then fun because about every 15 minutes the hotel staff had to deal with another guest on their floor complaining about the noise in the middle of the night. And everytime one of the staff went to see what it was about they would hear the guitars halfway down the hall before they even knoceked on their doors.

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