I'm in ur akshun film, dressin inappropriately. loltomcruise!

Top Gun. Awesome movie. It really takes me back to simpler times... times when Tom Cruise was not EFFING CRAZY, therefore allowing us to fully appreciate his hotness. Those were the days...

ANYWAYS... so I was watching it again tonight and my favourite part came along: the volleyball scene. (You know what I'm talking about, right ladies? Eh? Yeah.) As I was sitting there watching a shirtless Tom Cruise, Val Kilmer... and that other dude... who is not as famous... looking pretty hot with their volleyball skillz, it suddenly dawned on me.

The volleyball scene is really freaking wierd.

It really doesn't make much sense. First off, they had to have realized that when you put in a scene involving shirtless men with glistening torsos in a DUDE MOVIE that it is completely homoerotic. Was that the point? Or did they put it in there just for the ladies? Though it should be noted that there is a LOT of flexing going on there... yet there are no ladies watching them in the stands. Interesting, no? However, that is not the issue here. The issue is the wardrobe.


If you watch said scene, you will notice the sensible Goose (Anthony Edwards) wearing functional and practical volleyball playing attire. Sweet neon shorts and weird t-shirt with no sleeves. Makes sense. Good for movement and is appropriate for the weather.

Due to the fact that a) Goose is in shorts (as are all spectators), b) the sun is out and c) the other three dudes are not wearing shirts, we can determine that it was indeed very hot outside at the time of this volleyball game. So why in the heck are Iceman (Kilmer) and whats-his-face (whats-his-face) wearing sweatpants? Obviously shorts would have been a way better choice. Logic dictates that if it were indeed hot enough to necessitate the removal of shirts that one would certainly not choose warm pants, especially when engaging in physical activity. I mean, SERIOUSLY.

But those two idiots are not the worst offenders here. It is Maverick (Tom Cruise), who for some reason thinks it is way normal to play beach volleyball in tight jeans. TIGHT JEANS!!!! Any sane, sensible individual would surely know that it is highly illogical to play volleyball in tight jeans, what with all the lunging, jumping and bending that goes on there. GOD! It's called common sense, US NAVY! Do they let ANYONE into Top Gun? Apparently they do, since Maverick is clearly an idiot.

Judge for yourself, friends:





BUT... who am I to argue with highly qualified fictional fighter pilots? They are so hot smart.

Totally not a ma'am yet.

I nearly walked into a guy I work with in the hallway and he said "Whoa, sorry kiddo!"

That's right. He called me kiddo. I still qualify! Sweet.

I'm the best in town... listen to that sound!

I am a big giant whiny-pants. I know this about myself. It is how I keep myself from going
bat-shit crazy. I must verbalize in order to feel relief from the stress of things that piss me off.

That's just how I roll.

But not tomorrow.

Amanda has challenged me to not whine about ANYTHING for an ENTIRE (work) DAY. That's just not normal. I don't know if I can do it!

Hence why I am trying to find a loophole... does blogging count, or is this strictly verbal? Good lord, I hope it's only verbal.

In the meantime I will be preparing by listening to motivational music.



Who will win in the battle to fight my personality traits? Don't make me bust out my crane kick...

Movin' out, Billy Joel stylez.

Tomorrow is moving day! That's so lame!

I'm getting kicked out of my office and moved to a temporary office, which kind of SUCKS. Mostly because I will have no one to talk to, and people will be able to get to me easier... which in turn means I will be asked more questions that I do not want to be asked. *sigh*

I'm mostly upset because when all is said and done I will no longer have an office WITH A DOOR, but will be residing in a cubbyhole WITH CUBICLE WALLS. I don't really know how I can stress the importance of having an office WITH A DOOR. It is a big part of office politics, man. I never close my door, but having the option to do so gives me some sort of power. I guess because it allows me to be able to tell people to piss off and leave me alone in a non-verbal manner, therefore avoiding actually having to say those words to someone? I don't even really understand it. All I know is that having an office with a door is impressive to people.

I used to be able to have conversations like this:

ME: "Yeah, I have my own office."
NOT ME: "Cool."
ME: "Yeah... an office... WITH A DOOR."
NOT ME: "HOLY CRAP, THAT'S AWESOME! DO YOU ALSO HAVE A STAPLER?"
etc...

Now it will be like this:

ME: "I sort of have my own office."
NOT ME: "What do you mean sort of?"
ME: "Well, it's really more of a cubbyhole... with 3 walls and a cubicle wall."
NOT ME: "No door?"
ME: "No door."
NOT ME: "Okay, well I'm going to go find someone interesting to talk to. Buh-bye."
ME: "But wait! I used to have a door!"
NOT ME: "And I used to be 20 pounds lighter. I think we both know that doesn't matter anymore."

So basically what I am saying is that I really like having a door. Wah.

It's tricky. (How is it, D?)

Sometimes when I am in transport (on the bus, walking down the street...) and listening to music I find it extremely difficult to fight the urge to dance. And sing.

I fear that one day I will be making an appearance on someone else's blog as "crazy girl on bus who randomly sang Kool and the Gang". (Shut up. As if you don't sing along to Celebration when they play that shit at weddings.)

I think I was unintentionally lip synching to "You Got Yr Cherry Bomb" while I was walking to the bus this morning. Thank goodness I wasn't busted by passerby! That would have been mildly humiliating. I've caught tons of people singing and dancing on the bus, and I have judged them harshly for it.

I think I need to take preventative measures. For starters, to avoid spontaneous bus dancing I should probably not put this here Jay-Z track on there...



Seriously. What is it with the dude and wicked friggin' horn samples? Jesus. I can't fight it!

Sorry, but I will no longer be available for hangouts, as I now have plans every night for the rest of my life.

I'll be at home in my living room doing this:




Holy shit, James Brown is awesome. "It'll blow your mind!"

Boogaloo! HEH!

Ohhhhhhh, man. It will take me some time to recover from this one.

Not even the lemoniest of danishes could wake me up...

On occasion I find myself sitting at my desk staring straight at my computer screen thinking to myself, "OHMYGODIAMSOTIREDIWANTTOTAKEANAPRIGHTNOW." You know I'm tired when I can't even be bothered to punctuate. I am all about punctuation!

ANYWAYS, the point is that today is one of those days. I feel soooooooo sleepy and I just can't shake it. I didn't even wake up after eating my free breakfast at work. Or after having tea.

So there I was, sitting at my desk after lunch when I got an idea. I peeked around and made sure no one was looking... and then I crawled under my desk for a little surveying. In the current setup, it does not allow much room for napping. (I suppose that is the point. I imagine most workplaces frown upon that sort of thing.) If I were ever in dire need, I suppose I could shift some things around and have plenty of room for a power nap.

Of course, I am way too chicken to ever actually take a nap under my desk. I just wanted to see if I could.

HOWEVER... I think it should be noted that if our wacky little North American work culture were more willing to adopt a more relaxed, European view of things then I wouldn't have to resort of crawling under my desk. I could nap openly in this thingy:





















It's a nap pod! It's awesome! Maybe one day we will all have nap rooms. I would gladly eat lunch at my desk if I could go take a nap on my lunch break. For serious.

Advice.

Here is something I learned this weekend, and I think it is something you should know. Just in case...

Armpit massage is not for the faint of heart. That shit hurts like mother%$#ker. However, it is worth the pain if it means it will help the rest of your muscles loosen up. Just trust me on this one.

It's a good thing I don't need crutches right now, cause my armpits are bruised. Aren't you glad I decided to share that with you?

You're welcome.

Why my iPod is so awesome.

My iPod is awesome because it allows me to listen to this when I am on the bus in the morning:




By the time I get to work I am fairly confident in my party-rocking skillz. OH YEAH!

Bangers and mush.

"Mush" refers to those parts on your body that are not quite as firm as you'd like them to be. As for bangers... well, that's something different.

Lately I've been watching this show on W Network called "How To Look Good Naked". It's a UK import and I love it. The host is Gok Wan, your hilarious and cute gay best friend. He's awesome because he's British and therefore can easily get away with saying ridiculous things and throwing around various slang terms for breasts. He can regularly be heard saying things like "I love your rack." "You've got great tits!" and my personal favourite, "Look at those bangers!"

The reason I enjoy this show so much, is because the title suggests that it would be a very different type of show than it actually is. I figured it would be like the run of them mill makeover shows we have in North America where they take a pudgy woman, put her on a crash diet, stick her on a treadmill and POOF! 5 weeks later she looks good naked. I was truly amazed the first time I watched it because not once did they ever suggest that a woman lose weight or have surgery done to allow her to look good naked.

It's really all about taking an ordinary woman, who like many of us, has body issues and giving her some confidence. They take a picture of her in her underwear and show it to people on the street. They all talk about what her best body features are. Then they work to show her how totally out of whack our own perceptions of our bodies are.

The makeover part consists of teaching the ladies how to dress for their body types, getting them the proper under garments and then of course, hair and makeup. That's it. No weight loss, here kids. Just a haircut, some blush and a nude photography session.

It's refreshing to see something on tv that tells ladies that they can look hot even with that extra bit of wiggle and jiggle. Check it out if you have a chance... it will surely make you smile.

Fashionably late.

I'm perpetually running behind the times on oh so many matters... probably because I despise things that are overly hyped and have this inherent need to avoid being caught up in fads. (You can file that under "reasons why I will never read Harry Potter" and "purposely not listening to Arcade Fire".)

So it's not really all that surprising that I didn't start watching the Sopranos until AFTER the show had already ended. I started watching it in late June as a way to beat the summer tv dry spell. Craig and Mary lent me seasons 1-4 on DVD and as by the end of the second episode I was hooked. I've always loved mob movies so it's no wonder I loved this show so damn much. Once I got to the end of season 4 I panicked, because I have a really shitty internet connection at home and downloading the remaining episodes was really not an option. Luckily, my dad's friend found out that I was into the show and sent me home with seasons 5 and 6 part one. I whipped through both of them in about 2 weeks or something insane like that.

Then I had to wait FOREVER to see the final season. I managed to rent the first 2 discs... and by some crazy miracle I was able to download the remaining 5 episodes. Last night I watched 4 of them. In a row. It was insane. I was freaking OUT. By the time 1am rolled around I could barely keep my eyes open, but my mind was racing. I couldn't stop thinking about it.

I just finished watching the last episode tonight. First of all, I think I deserve a friggin' medal for managing to avoid hearing about the finale. All I knew about was that people were pissed off about the way it ended... but I had no idea what actually happened, other than the fact that it had something to do with Journey. Now that I do, all I have to say is HOLY CRAP.

I think I blurted out "OH MY GOD!" about 3 times. The final 5 mins was the worst. I was so tense watching it, trying to figure out what was going to happen.

"Why is he looking at that guy? Why is that guy looking at him? What's up with those kids in the corner? JESUS MEADOW, PARK YOUR GODDAMN CAR!" And then...









Alright then.

Say what?

After reading an article about how it is going to become even MORE difficult to find a regular doctor, I freaked out and decided that I should probably try and find one now, as opposed to later. I kind of hate going to walk in clinics, so it's probably a good idea for me to have a regular doctor anyways.

I finally found a place that sounded really great (upon hearing good things about it from friends who go there) and called this morning to see if I could get in. (The website said they were always accepting new patients.)

So when I asked if they were actually taking new patients, I was informed that they weren't... but I was in luck, because they are starting a new waiting list... IN JULY.

WTF??? I have to wait until JULY so that I can get on a list and wait even LONGER?????

This country is bullshit. Why does it have to be so difficult?

So here I am, still with no doctor. And also with stress due to this frustrating problem. That can't be good for my health... THIS IS A VICIOUS CYCLE.

Oh happy day... when this blog was born!

Today is January 8th, which means that it is the 2 year anniversary of Yo! What's the haps?!

To celebrate, I am incubating a flu-like illness... and I am supposed to curl tonight. YAY! Nothing says "excellent and well thought out idea" like standing on ice for 2 hours when you are ill. High fives all around.

So yeah. I kind of can't believe it has been 2 years! Oh how the time flies by...

I wish today would fly by a little quicker so that I can get to bed, as I feel like total crap. (It just wouldn't have been the same if I had not whined a little at the end there. I'm nothing if not consistent.)

An old-fashioned lullaby.

I am really having a hard time staying awake today. It's not my fault though... as I sit at my desk I can't help but be slowly lulled to sleep by the rhythmic screeching of the giant dot matrix printer on the other side of the wall.

It's actually quite relaxing.

Eeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrch. Eeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrch. Eeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrch. Eeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrch.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Is it time to go home yet?

It's just the worst.

Upon getting out of bed this morning after having the WORST sleep EVER I came to discover that my beloved little blue fish, Potsie, was totally dead at the bottom of his little bowl.

IT TOTALLY SUCKED.

I moped around the house while I disposed of the remains in a modest memorial service. (Basically, it was me standing there saying "Peace out, Potsie." and flushing him down the toilet.)

But then I went to visit my parents and my mom fed me homemade turkey soup with freshly made cheese biscuits and I felt a little better.

However, that feeling was taken away when my back really started to hurt and had to go to THREE different stores on the way home to get some damn Robaxacet. Apparently they can't sell it in stores after the pharmacist has gone home. WTF? ANYWAYS... I finally got the medicine and was cruising home, only to discover that the Knight street bridge had been shut down north bound due to a crazy accident. So I had to deke off and go ALLLLLL the way over to Oak. LAME!

I got home way later than I should have, I'm tired and I have to get up and go to work in the morning. And now I have no fish.

It's just the worst.

But I do have turkey soup for lunch tomorrow, so it's not all bad. *sigh*

Just as I am.

It has finally dawned on me why I always watch Bridget Jones' Diary every time it is on television, and will continue to do so.

For as long as I continue to be single, socially awkward, slightly insecure, in a stalled career path and just a little bit fat... this movie gives me hope that perhaps these qualities are truly endearing after all.

And heck, it is not entirely impossible that I might indeed wind up kissing Colin Firth on a snow covered street one day. After all, it nearly happened with Pierce Brosnan... minus the snow and the kissing. Minor details.

She's so cold, she's so cooooo-old...

Winters spent in this asshole of a basement suite really SUCK sometimes.

We ain't got no heat controls up in this bitch. Consequently, I have no feeling in my toes or nose.

LAME!

Quick, somebody invite me over to your warm household! In the meantime, I shall go and put on a sweater and 7 pairs of socks. Brrrrrrr.

Who knew evil could taste so good?

Good citizens of internetland, meet my nemesis:





















Cucurbita moschata, aka butternut squash.

In helping Lydia to prepare our delicious feast of pork chops stuffed with apple/bread/chorizo stuffing, roasted potatoes, and butternut squash roasted with apples, pecans and maple syrup (I KNOW! SO GOOD.) I was put in charge of chopping and peeling the squash. Cutting the damn thing was a herculean effort. Those bitches are tough to cut through. But that is not the point. The point is that after cutting it in half, peeling it with a veg peeler and cubing it all up, my hands started to feel really weird. Sort of like there was crazy potato starch drying on my skin. So I washed my hands... but it got worse. My hands started to tingle and feel numb, and the skin on my hands started to tighten and turn red. It felt like burning. So I washed my hands again, only to have the skin on my fingertips start peeling off in layers.

I kind of freaked out. I took an antihistamine and got on the Internet. Apparently, this happens to other people too.

BUTTERNUT SQUASH GAVE ME CONTACT DERMATITIS! I'm totally allergic to squash sap.

I have spent the entire evening applying lotion to my poor, poor hands. They look and feel really weird and gross. The best part? IT CAN TAKE WEEKS TO HEAL.

I still ate it though. It was delicious.

If you think about it, that is the ultimate revenge...

It's 2008. What the heck?!?!?!

A big ol' Happy New Year goes out to all y'all who read this here little blog. (Mom and that one other dude WHATUP!!!)

I have already set a precident for the next year, joke wise. If I do not make an awesome joke at some point during my New Year's celebrations, then you can be sure that the year will be hardcore LAME. Lucky for you, I pulled an awesome one out just in time... so chances are you will win a lot of money, find the perfect mate or find toonie in a pair of shoes that you totally forgot about.

So here was my awesome joke:

We were playing a DVD game called "Quip It" in which a picture is flashed on the screen and you have to use the picture to create your own headline to go along with said picture. This was the photo:















My headline? "Tipper? I hardly know her!"

HI-YOOOOOOOOOO!

It's gonna be a good one, kids. I can just tell.