Pearl Jam was right.

Ticketmaster can suck it.

I went online at 10am SHARP(!!!) to try my hand at getting tickets to see my darling Bruce Springsteen. It did not end well.

I spent about 7 mins in some sort of weird internet lineup only to be offered the shittiest seats in the world for the low low price of $115.00. Each. $115.00. For seats at the back of the stadium on the balcony. This is about as far away from Bruce as one could get.

Now I don't know about you, but this girl isn't sleeping on piles of money. Scrooge McDuck, I am not. So $115 is a lot of money for me to shell out for a concert ticket. If I am going to pay that much for anything, it had better be fricking AMAZING. I simply can't justify dropping that much money on the worst seat ever. (Even though I love him. I would likely cry if I got to see him.)

So now I'm going to mope about it for the rest of the day, and curse the families of all those bastards on Craigslist who have already put their tickets up for sale for 3 times the original price. Fuckers.

I'm so cut out for politics.

I may or may not have just spent a significant portion of my morning doing internet research, re: my new email notification sound. This is very important work, as I receive several gagillion emails in a given day and hearing this sound is sometimes the only amusement I get in a day.

Also, please keep in mind that our measurements of time are purely subjective, as what I may deem to be a "significant" amount of time may seem like no time at all to you.

SO ANYWAY... I decided on a clip of Mr. T. saying "It's time to quit jammerin' before I start hammerin!"

I suspect this will only last until the end of the day. Then I will have to start all over again. It is very important work I am doing here... very important work.

I gotta go. It's time to quit jammerin'.

Do do do do dodododo... (repeat)

I would be lying to you if I said that this song does not get stuck in my head at least once a week. The only thing better than the original British new wave is friggin' Canadian New Wave. Straight outta Burlington, bitches. Surely this must have won a Juno...



On a side note, I'm getting my hair cut on Friday. I think I will make Alan watch this video for inspiriation and then ask, "Do you like, totally have a crimping iron?"

Aaaaand... boom goes the dynamite!

That is what the announcer would have said yesterday had my curling game been televised. You see, my dear friends, I made the shot of the century. OF THE CENTURY! (The century being that one game. I have my own system of measurement.)

The skip called this wacky shot which involved me throwing a rock hard enough to take out another rock, while curling it so that it went through a hole and thus taking out TWO rocks at the same time. I was all, "Yeah, SURE. I'll get right on that." I never actually make the shots they call for me. So I threw... and I threw it hard enough, I threw it with the right amount of curl on it, and the ice didn't eff me over.

I watched it go through the gap... and as soon as I heard the crack of the rocks colliding I yelled. I didn't yell, "WOOOO!" or "YEAH!" in celebration, like any other person would yell. This is me we are talking about. My celebratory cry, heard all across the rink was...

"WHAT THE HECK??????"

What can I say? I'm really very modest.

The one where I was detained by Homeland Security. Seriously.

Ah, the wonders of cross border shopping. After waiting for 2 and a half hours in the friggin lineup at the border this morning with my sister, it was finally our time to shine.

I pulled up to the window and handed the Border Lady (BL) our identification. She proceeded to ask us the usual questions... Where are you from, where are you going, why are you going there, blah blah blah. Then she typed away on her computer for a really long time. We were sitting there for over 5 mins. She asked a few more questions before handing me a bright orange slip of paper and politely informed me that I had to pull over and go inside the building.

I was not so pleased about this, as it was now 11am, and I had been up since 5:45am and hadn't eaten anything. But apparently US Customs (the Department of Homeland Security) doesn't care about my feelings.

So I pulled over, and my sister and I wandered into the building with bewildered looks on our faces. A border guy (BG) who looked like Ned Flanders called us over to the counter and I handed him the slip. He looked at it and then looked at me ans smiled. "Oh, he'll be right with you... he's busy right now."

About 30 seconds later another border guy (BG2) walked up to the counter. The following is the conversation that ensued:

BG2: "Which one of you ladies is Sarah?"
Me: "I am."
BG2: (looks at my id and looks at me) "Okay, just have a few questions for you... ummm... were you born in West Virginia?"
Me: (pauses for a moment and looks up at him with the same face I make when someone asks me to do math in my head) "Noooooooo..."
BG2: "Okay. Ummm..." (looks at me again) "Are you... bipolar?"
Me: (pauses again and looks up at him with the calculus version of the math face) "Noooooooo..."
BG2: "Alright, and have you used narcotics at all?"
Me: (pauses again because I am wondering what counts as narcotics) "Noooooooo..."

The two border guys look at each other and kind of shrug while they both say, "See? It's not her. No, it's not her." BG2 looks at me again and says "You're not her!" He hands my id back and tells me to have a nice day, without explaining what the HECK that was all about.

Sister and I then wander out of the building looking totally confused. Just before we reach the door I grab her arm and say, "Oh, shit! Does this mean I'm on the no fly list? DISS!"

Then we burst out laughing as soon as we get in the car.

I really wish that crazy, crackhead Sarah would stop sullying my good name. I'm going to need to go back there one day to get some sweet deals. Stupid jerk. *sigh*

I just don't know how to feel about it...

Bruce Springsteen is awesome. This is just a fact. There is just something about his songs that make me love them. Some of them are rockin... some of them are haunting. Nearly all of them are good. This is not what I feel weird about. I feel weird because...





















Bruce Springsteen is kind of... hot.

He's older than my dad! That is so wrong! I just don't know how to feel about it...

The one where Christmas exploded in ma face! It made a noise like "poof!".

So there I was, standing at the bus stop at Cambie and King Edward, when I had one of those moments where I really thought I was going crazy. I looked up the street to see if a bus was coming, and just then one rounded the corner. From far away I could see the route sign on the bus... but it didn't quite look like a regular bus. I rubbed my eyes in my morning haze, thinking that maybe I was just seeing things in my sleep hangover... as the bus got closer, I could see that this was not true. I really was seeing it for reals.
















The bus was dressed up as a friggin' reindeer. (I have no idea where this pic came from. Someone else stole it and put it on a blog last year. So I re-stole it. Whatevs.)


That's just crazy. There are also cartoons on the side of it, featuring Charlie Brown and Fred Flintstone discussing the merits of said reindeer bus. It's seriously weird... and seriously hilarious.

It also earns points for me because cyclists will get pissed off when the bus comes and they can't use the bike rack on account of the giant red nose in the way. Now you lazy bums will just have to RIDE YOUR BIKES all the way home. *tear*

I am full up of festive holiday spite. (Nope, I didn't mean spirit. I meant spite.)

Well played, Gap marketing department.

I'm not big on conspiracy theories, but I'm pretty sure the last time I bought something at the Gap they secretly stuck a microchip into my brain. I can prove it.




















Jesus lord, they have finally done it. They have figured out how to market directly to me. And it's working. I'm going to buy 12 of those sweaters... and maybe pretend like John Krasinski gave me them as a present... after he wore them... good god, I want that sweater... with that man inside of it.

I actually gasped out loud when I saw that pic in the mall yesterday... AND IT WAS GIANT SIZED. I love it. I also love this one, but it is a different kind of love...























This is more like a "awwww, buddies!" kind of love. I may or may not try to copy the facial expressions in this photo and make my own version of this for Christmas cards. That would be awesome.

So there you have it. Proof. They stole my idea. I can't even tell you how many times I have thought of John Krasinski wearing a sweater and looking bashful. See? Totally thought of it first.

I love him, despite his obviously poor judgement in regards to cocktail waitresses from Vegas.

Tonight was officially chill out night in the Lydia/Sarah household. It involved me eating my freaking delicious sweet potato chowder, both of us eating a yummy desert of ice cream covered in hot espresso and my favourite part of all... a film starring one Mr. George Clooney.

Said film was Good Night, and Good Luck. It was pretty freaking good, I must admit. Even if he wasn't in it I would have thought it was good. I swear. It kind of freaked me out a little. As I pointed out to Lydia, if you just took the words "communist" and "Russian" and replaced them with "terrorist" and "Middle-Eastern", 1953 becomes 2007. WTF? That is frightening.

Now, back to the important part... the Clooney. He even looks hot wearing nerd glasses. He even looks hot when he is slightly chubby. It's pretty much impossible for him to look ugly. *sigh*

If only he wasn't dating that whore... erm... I mean waitress.

CRAP!!!!!

I totally just accidentally got a friggin bleach spot on the sleeve of one of my favourite sweatshirts!!!!! F$&@!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It is a lovely shade of grey... and now there are 3 small pink dots on the sleeve. I can still wear it, right???? It's too new and awesome not to. WHAT A HARSH DISS!

Happy anniversary! (To me.)

Today is my official 2 year anniversary of working at my job. Yay!(?)

Honestly, it is kind of weird. On one hand it is kind of a good thing to have kept a job for 2 years. That's kind of alright. On the other hand... I have had the same job for 2 years. Knowing that I haven't moved up at all in the ranks does not feel so great. Nor does not having moved up in SALARY.

So really what I'm saying is that I don't know how I feel about this. I suppose this anniversary is a bittersweet one. I should eat a lemon cupcake for the symbolism. Or just because they are delicious. Whatever.

I'm from New Jersey, I swear!

I saw American Gangster last night and for the most part I really enjoyed it. It's kind of harsh, but kind of awesome considering it was based on a true story. I did, however, have a few minor issues with this film.

Exhibit A: I think everyone in Hollywood is fucking terrified of Russell Crowe. They must be. They were all so bloody afraid of getting bludgeoned in the face with a telephone receiver that no one was willing to tell him to get a frigging dialect coach. Seriously. Shittiest Jersey accent EVER. I'm not kidding. In one sentence it was like "Hey look at me I'm from Joysey, no wait make that England... err, Yugoslavia? OKAY FINE, YOU GOT ME. I AM AUSTRALIAN." Good god.

Exhibit B: I really tried not to laugh out loud when they were all sitting in a room in
1970-whatever, and the camera totally focused in on RZA's Wu-Tang tattoo. HA!

Exhibit C: Common is 34. He looks 34. TI is 27. He looks 27. I'm pretty sure Common played TI's dad. Whaaaa?

Other than that, it was good. Also interesting to note is that Denzel Washington does not appear to age... at all. It's kind of remarkable... and creepy. He might be a cyborg.

Sometimes I blow my own mind.

This morning I was a little slow getting my ass out the door and to the bus stop. Hence the not eating breakfast at home. In a mad rush I dumped some quick oats into tupperware and scanned the cupboard for something to flavour it with. My eyes focused on the jar of Nutella. Nutella, you say? That's crazy! Or is it?

I put a blob of it in with the dry oats, threw the container in my bag and ran out the door.

When I got to work, I added some hot water and stirred it up. The verdict?

NUTELLA AND OATMEAL IS AWESOME.

It is sort of like eating Cocoa Puffs that are mushy and hot... except that it is not gross like it would be if you actually WERE eating hot and mushy Cocoa Puffs.

Go ahead and tell your friends. They will love you forever.

Jazz hands!

So I'm watching tv and a commercial comes on promoting a concert at River Rock Casino. When I saw it, I seriously said "WHAAAAAAAAAA?????" out loud to no one but myself (and Lydia's a-hole cats).

How did I not know that LIZA MINNELLI was coming??? IT IS LIZA FREAKING MINNELLI!!!!!



She is bat-shit crazy, but holy crap is she AWESOME!

I wish I could afford a ticket. DAMN IT!!!!

At least I've never called anyone "T-Bone"...

Uh-oh. I think I might be the Office Jerk.

I think this mostly because of my irrational spurts of anger. Thus far I have managed to (mostly) keep them under control and not actually verbalize them to my co-workers... but still. I say seriously mean things about people in my head sometimes.

Oh well. I suppose it's all okay, as long I don't actually say it out loud. It kind of amuses me that people think I'm actually a nice person. Heh.

What is it with dudes and ladies in red dresses?

I just thought that since it is Monday morning and all that you might want to get down with yo bad self. So watch this, and do that.




This song can snap me out of a boredom coma in 3 seconds flat. It can also change my mood from "Eff off!" to "Eff yeah!" in about the same span of time. It really is amazing.

I loves me some bargains.

I love me some shopping. Especially for deals. If a place has the term "outlet" or "warehouse" in the name, you bet your ass I'll be there.

Yesterday my mommy came to visit me for some shopping fun. I took her to my beloved Lululemon Outlet. We both went to town. My mom got some really cute yoga pants and a really nice warm jacket (for bargain prices!) and I got some awesome swishy mens pants to use for curling and a super cute zip up jacket. I friggin love that place.

We were still on the hunt for more sweet deals, so I took her over to the Lotuswear Outlet on Hastings. That was kind of lame... but do you know what is located right near there? This little place called The Gourmet Warehouse. It should be called "THE AWESOME EMPORIUM". I thought it was just going to be some lame place where you can buy wooden spoons and pots and pans... but it is so much more than that. They have food! And spices! And fancy teas! And chocolates! And cheese! So good.

I bought some organic coffee syrups for my lattes for only $7 each! I thought that was a sweet deal. My mom and I were totally nerding out over everything in the store and pretty much decided that it is the funnest store ever. I'm going to go back there again before Christmas to buy hilarious little gifts for people. I highly recommend that you go check it out. Do it!

Total DISS.

Last week Lydia and I decided to take Kelly's parent's up on an offer to buy a chair and sofa from them on the cheap. This was all very exciting news. Lydia thought we should just get rid of our exisiting couch before the new stuff came so she put it up on Craigslist and someone came to get it the same night.

This meant that I spent nearly an entire week without a couch to sit on. It was not cool. So I was pretty happy to hear that the new furniture was coming today. Yay! Or so I thought.

As it turned out, it was deemed impossible to fit the new couch through the door in my house. WHAT A DISS.

So I still have no couch. I am however, the proud new owner of an intensely comfortable armchair. I love it. Now we just have to find a couch to match it. Fun times!

I'm not even joking.

Last week I got on a crowded bus in the morning on my way to work. I was carrying a travel mug and my giant purse, but nothing else. So I was kind of puzzled as to why a very nice woman who was probably older than I am asked me if I wanted to sit down. At the time, I didn't really think much of it...

HOWEVER, after giving it some more thought and eating a reasonable amount of Halloween candy, I have determined that this woman was not suffering from a case of crazy-politeness.

I think she thought I was pregnant.

Granted, I was wearing a sweatshirt, and that kind of makes it look like your tummy sticks out more than it really does... or it could also have something to do with the fact that I HAVE A HUGE GUT.

So yeah. That was a fun realization. I guess this means I should like, work out or something.

Jesus.