I taught him everything he knows.

Conversation I had last night with my 4 year old nephew, Gavin:

G: "Auntie Sarah, do you like to watch America's Best Dance Crew on tv?"
ME: "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"
G: "No. Do you like it?"
ME: "HECK YES I LIKE IT!"
G: "Me too! It's the bestest."
ME: "TOTALLY. Who is your favourite crew?"
G: "Iconic!"
ME: "No way, man. It's all about Jabbawockeez and Kaba Modern."
G: "NO. I LIKE ICONIC."
ME: "Whatever, dude. They totally LOST!"
G: *sigh* "I know..."
ME: *looking at my mom* "This kid is so awesome. Obviously he has been listening to me."

And then we high fived. My brother is so lucky to have a kid that is EXACTLY LIKE ME.

Me and Julio Iglesias down by the cubicle...yard?

An odd title. Yes, I know. It's just because I'm at my cubicle (People around here like to call it an "office". You have to use air quotes when you say it out loud.) where there is a photo of Julio Iglesias pinned to the wall. I don't even really know why... I just put it there. Because how is that not funny? It is right beside a set of Wrestlemania (I, III and VIII) collector cards that Amanda found in the basement. What can I say, I have eclectic taste.

SO ANYWAYS... the whole point of this post is to talk about how after thinking about it for 2 days I could not think of anything to write about. Seriously. I have nothing. Isn't that crazy? TOTALLY!

The funny thing about this situation is that I have been really bothered by the fact that I couldn't think of anything to write about. So I am writing about having nothing to write about, just so that I have something to write about! This whole thing could have been avoided if I wasn't always so worried about people thinking that I am not funny. Since the inception of my blogging career, it has created this whole new source of anxiety. Because, you know... if I don't stick something up here every 2 days THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE WILL EXPLODE. BECAUSE I AM THAT IMPORTANT.

Oh sure, you laugh at that statement... but there's a reason I have made $1.84 off of this here blog. I've gotta keep this up, because in 20 years I would like to buy some jelly beans. I only like the expensive gourmet kind, so you can see why I need to save up. I must be able to keep myself in the lifestyle in which I have become accustomed to.

On a side note, I think I have been watching too much Seinfeld. Can you tell?

To the batcave! Or secluded den of evil. Whichever name you prefer.

I got new office furniture today at work. It is kind of hilarious. Imagine if you will, a cubicle. This is no ordinary cubicle... it is a cubicle covered in teal suede microfiber! No, I am not joking.

It is also funny because instead of the usual corkboard and push pin friendly walls, there is only one wall to stick things on. It has what resembles an upholstered headboard in shiny colour coordinated fabric. Hence the uncontrollable fit of giggles I have been in all day.

The most hilarious part about all of this is that my new "office" is waaaaaaaaay in the back of this narrow little hallway I have decided to call "the alley". I guess this is going to be where I beat people up when engaging in shady dealings. I am also going to see about rigging something up so that "Beat It" starts to play when I walk down there.

I now reside in a wee little corner far away from everyone else. I think it's pretty funny. We have come up with all sorts of fun names for it, such as "The Hole" and "Effing Siberia".

This is good news for you, the reader. Why? Because it will only serve to make me more bitter, which will likely make for excellent reading materials for you. I know you love it when I am miserable. That's when the sarcasm really shines. SHINES!

Controversy!

Easter is the time of year when Godless heathens come together to eat chocolate. Being that I AM one of those said heathens, I decided to get in the spirit of things and sample a seasonal treat.

I was inspired by Erin's post about the famous Cadbury Creme Egg. Lydia and I had been talking about them, and she seemed kind of shocked that I didn't really have any personal history with them.

I never ate them as a kid. My mom thought they were gross, so she never bought them for us. Since they were my main suppliers of candy (which was not something I got all that often) I just never had the chance to try them. I was never really interested in them as a teenager either. I think I've maybe had 3 of them in my entire life! I really couldn't remember what they tasted like.

So today I decided to give these little buggers a shot. What did I think?

Ummmm... it was okay. Kind of disappointing, actually. Erin and Lydia made them sound so amazing... but I was not all that impressed. For one thing, I thought the yolk part in mine was not yellow enough. Perhaps I just got a dud? I also thought it was a little bit too sweet for my liking.

That being said, I am willing to give them another shot. It is chocolate, after all! (Especially if I can find one of the illusive British eggs.) So there you have it kids. I can still be converted.

PS: I would also like to mention that as I write this I am watching an episode of 90210. It is Kelly's 21st birthday. How did they celebrate? They went to a Dave Koz concert! Nothing says HAPPY BIRTHDAY OF LEGAL DRINKING AGE like saxophonic elevator music. Why did I ever think these people were awesome?

PPS: That reminds me, I'm turning 27 this year. I'm thinking... Kenny G. You in? Heck yes, you are.

What, like you've never seen a girl breathing into a paper bag before?

What did you do today? Here's what I did:

Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup. *pause* ...
Yay, they are gone! ...
Hiccup.
DISS.
Hiccup.

SERIOUSLY. The hiccups are the friggin WORST! I have had them off and on all day. People have tried unsuccessfully to scare me, I held my breath, sat at my desk breathing into a paper bag for 10 mins... and no luck!

The only thing that manages to make it go away is the mystical powers of one of my coworkers. Seriously. He cured them twice just by being there. I think he secretly controls the universe or something. It's crazy. It is very handy to know someone who cures hiccups... but what the heck am I going to do if they come back when I am at home?

I gotta get that dude on speed dial.

Sometimes I just like to veg out.

People are always asking me if I am a vegetarian. I am not. Not officially, anyways. I do eat meat every now and then... just not very often. It is not a decision I made for political reasons nor does it have anything to do with personal beliefs. I just don't like cooking with meat. It's kind of icky. In fact, I don't even like steak! *gasp*

This is pretty much why I started getting into cooking proper veg meals, instead of the pasta and sauce thing I used to do. My god, am I glad I did.

People, let me tell you about something that will change your life. It is called the "Three Sisters Burrito" from the Rebar cookbook. HOLY SHIT, THIS MEAL IS DELICIOUS.

It's roasted butternut squash, corn and cilantro with some chipotle and ancho chile flavours in it. I'm just going to go ahead and call it a FLAVOUR EXPLOSION.

AND it is even BETTER the next day after all the flavours have soaked in a bit. I just ate this for lunch, and I am telling the truth when I say that my day just got 1 million times better.

I would marry this burrito. (If it would have me.)

Go! Make it! Eat it! Then cry some tears of joy.

(PS: I don't bother making the red sauce. I just use salsa and it is the yums.)

A life of hermitude...

So you may recall that I had decided to attempt living like a hermit in order to save money. Here's an update:

I actually don't mind being a hermit! Is that weird? As it turns out, I really enjoy hanging out all by myself. I am not bad to hang out with! I mostly stay in my house and watch weird movies on TV. It's funny. I like it.

However, my hermitude has inadvertently spilled over into my work day. I used to make a point of going downstairs to eat lunch so that I could get away from my desk for a bit and socialize. But now I don't do that. Now I sit at my desk and play mah jong on the internets. I feel bad because I never see my work peeps as a result... but I really like mah jong. A lot.

What to do? Meh.

Get up, a get get get down...

Daylight savings time is a joke.

I lost an hour of sleep. Consequently, my internal clock is way messed up! You see, I was not tired at 10:30, which is normally when I would go to bed... because 10:30 was actually 9:30, which is way early! This means that I ended up staying up until 11:30. That wouldn't have been so bad... except that when the alarm went off at 6am it was really like it was 5am. Do you see how messed up that is? And for what? So I can wake up in the friggin dark? BULLCRAP.

So here. Watch this video and substitute "911" with "Daylight Savings Time" and you will see how I feel. Grrrrr.




On a side note, Steph and Daniel totally saw Flavor Flav eating at Anducci's in Burnaby! What the heck? He was even wearing the clock! In Burnaby! That's crazy!

Run, Forrest, Run!

So I'm due to go for a group training run after work... which is in about 20 mins. I am so NOT looking forward to this. I signed up for the Sun Run team at work again... and I have only agreed to go on this group run thingy because the team captain is just so darn NICE and I don't want to disappoint her. Seriously, she goes for runs on LUNCH BREAKS. For fun. Because she is fit as all get out and this exercise thing obviously does cause her to feel like she is going to throw up and then pass out.

I just want them all to know I am trying, however pathetic I look while doing so.

Go team! (I say this because one of you will surely have to help me get up the hill on the way back. Thank you in advance.)

It should be noted that I am also NOT looking forward to the bus ride back home when I'm all good and sweaty like. Ewwwwwww.

I never thought I would ever say this...

I think I am bored of the internet. (!!!!!!)

Due to a system upgrade at work, I have been unable to actually DO any work today. This means that aside from the few random tasks I have been able to complete, I have mostly been hanging out on the interwebs.

Did you know that after you cycle through your regular sites that the internet is TOTALLY BORING? Cause it is.

I have checked on the status of getting some halfway decent Springsteen tickets about 75 times today... and no luck. I think the Ticketmaster site hates me. I just don't want to sit in the VERY back of the balcony, 17 rows up if I don't have to. Is that so wrong? Am I being foolish to wait this out in hopes of having better seats pop up closer to the show date? I don't know how this crap works.

Can I go home now? No? Okay, I'll just sit here awhile longer and stare at things. I feel like I'm really doing some good here.

100% Certified Nerd. I've got the allergies to prove it.

Once I was at the doctor and he stuck that flashlighty thing up my nose to have a look. He told me I had an "allergic nose". At that very moment I thought, "Awesome. I wonder if I put that on my resume if it would help me get a computer based job..." I also thought, "Awesome. I AM NEVER GOING TO GET MARRIED."

LOL!

I digress.

The point is that I have lots of allergies, which never seem to leave me alone. However, I have recently discovered another one and it may have the potential to actually be beneficial! That's right friends, I am allergic to work! No joke!

Over the past few months I have noticed that the frequency of daily sneezes is at an increased rate when I am at the workplace, vs. when I am at home. This is weird, because there are cats in my house which I am TOTALLY allergic to. One would think that I would sneeze more in the presence of a known allergen which causes my eyes to swell up if I touch them and then touch my eye.

AND there are no cats at work. (That is actually the one thing this place really has going for it... NO CATS!)

So why am I sneezing so much at work? Because I am allergic to work, OBVIOUSLY.

See?




















You can't argue with science.

I had a dream...

I did. It was a weird one.

So I'm sitting at home on a lovely summer afternoon waiting for a buddy to come over. The buddy in question is Kiefer Sutherland. (What?) When he finally gets to my house he is driving a REALLY shitty car. Like, we are talking some kind of 1987 Honda bullshit. He says it is because he is trying to go "incognito" and doesn't want to cause a commotion in the neighborhood. Fair enough.

Kiefer has come over to help me out with some ideas for a screenplay I'm writing. We are sitting in my backyard drinking tea and chatting about my story ideas. We have to drink tea because he's on the wagon again. He was in jail, and it was not pleasant. We get to talking about our families. He's asking me about how my parents are doing... because he hasn't seen them in ages. Apparently he has known me my entire life - my grandpa was friends with his dad. They knew each other from the Mason's Lodge.

Then I woke up, startled and confused.

*GASP*

"DONALD SUTHERLAND IS A MASON????? MY ENTIRE LIFE HAS BEEN A LIE."

It just seems like the kind of thing he wouldn't really be into. That's all I'm saying.

Why everyone involved in business thinks I'm an idiot.

I went to the bank on my lunch break to cash in this sweet voucher I have for RRSPs. (2! DAYS! LEFT! ONLY! HURRY! CONTRIBUTE! NOW! That's what the signs all said. They even had balloons to emphasize the point.) The teller could not do this for me, so he took me over to the RRSP counter and told me I had to make an appointment.

Bank Lady: Alright, when can you come in? 1? 2? 3?
ME: Well, I'm actually just on my lunch break from work...
Bank Lady: We are open later today. What kind of funds do you have?

I stare at her blankly.

Bank Lady: Do you have mutual funds?
ME: Ummmm... yeah, okay. Mutual funds... sure... (at this point I start to trail off and stare into a far away land)

She looks at me as if to say, 'She couldn't possibly be THAT dumb. She wears glasses.'

ME: *head snaps up* Yes! I have mutual funds!
Bank Lady: Alright, come back at 5.

Yeah. I went to college.

TOTALLY looking forward to showing my face there again today. I am seriously hoping that the transaction consists of me shoving the voucher in her face and saying "HERE. PUT THIS IN THE PLACE WHERE THE STUFF IS."

I don't know how well I will be able to cover up not knowing anything about money. I fear that when she asks me to invest more money, she will see right through me when I reply with, "Well, Susan... the market is a little risky for me right now, what with quarterly profits being down and all. It's really a mess out there! Am I right, or am I right?"

*sigh*

Oh, George.





















Despite the fact that you continue to parade around with that silly waitress everywhere, I just can't stay mad at you.

It was so sweet of you to make sure she looked totally weird by dressing her in upholstery fabric from 1972! You knew that would make me happy. *sigh*

You're just the best. Now, go put on a suit and stand around looking attractive. It's what you do best, my darling.

How quickly we forget.

So I totally forgot about how sometimes when I do the running, it can sometimes immediately be followed up by the feeling sick and is guaranteed to be followed up the next day by the hurting.

Why does the Sun Run always sound like a good idea? It is not.

For a rainy day...

This video just made my day. I love it because a) I love Brazillian music, b) I love Radiohead and most importantly c) I loves me some Ed O'Brien.

I nearly cried the last time I saw Radiohead in concert as I stood there looking up at Ed, being all tall and lanky... and hot... and talented. He's that kind of attractive to me. The kind that makes you almost cry because the hotness is so intense.

He's right up there with Clooney.

Yeah, I said it.




Isn't my husband just the cutest? *sigh*

Is it technically considered polygamy if you have several imaginary husbands? Just wondering.

I blinded myself with science. SCIENCE!

Please note that I didn't actually blind myself with science. In terms of my eyesight, everything is as it should be. What I did do, was blow my own mind with my awesome ideas.

A while ago I got into some pretty crazy stuff with my oatmeal experimentation, the highlight of which was the discovery of adding Nutella to quick oats. Prior to the addition of the water and cooking portion of the process, it looks kind of gross. One of my coworkers (Either Craig or Angus, I can't remember.) lovingly described it as looking like "a turd covered in kitty litter." Don't let that phase you. Add the water, and what you get is a little bit of awesome.

ANYWAYS, this morning I was in a mad rush to get out the door and in preparing my usual oats and brown sugar I decided to throw in some roasted pumpkin seeds. When I got to work and went to add the water in... well, I'm not going to lie to you. It looked really weird. But it tasted yumtastic!

AND.. as an added bonus, I discovered that pumpkin seeds have quite a bit of tryptophan in them. This means that in half an hour I will either be really, really sleepy or really, really happy since tryptophan stimulates the release of both melatonin and seratonin.

So basically, I have just proved once again that I am a frickin' genius.

Kevin Smith knows everything.

Remember how in Dogma the whole reason that God went missing was because She took over an old man's body so that She could play Skee Ball on the Jersey shore?





















I totally wish I had the power to take over someone's body because I want to play Skee Ball sooooooooo bad right now.

I really do. It's so fun! Playing it on the computer just isn't the same.

*sigh* Where the heck can I go play Skee Ball???

It's like, totally faux.

Today my mother is not at work, due to the fact that she is a union member (Teamsters, yeah!) and they have graciously provided her with a BULLSHIT MADE UP HOLIDAY!!!!! They like to call it "Heritage Day". It is also known as "Family Day" in several other provinces of this great country of ours.

IT SUCKS. IT SUCKS BECAUSE I HAVE TO WORK. Whatever. Have a nice time on your made up holiday, Mommy.

ANYWAYS, in honour of this holiday I am going to play a little game. It is called Jeopardy and this dude is going to help me play it:




















Hey, look at that, it is Alex Trebek! Let's do this.

AT: "Sarah, choose a category."

Me: "Alright, I'll take "Crap That Makes Me Angry" for 400, Alex. "

AT: "Answer - This is what you would call it when one of the departments at work gets to frig off for part of the day because they are getting their offices moved in the middle of the day, while you were forced to work a full day and then stay LATE because they made you move at the END of the day."

*BUZZZZZZZZ*

AT: "Sarah..."

Me: "What is 'a huge friggin' rip off.'"

AT: "Correct!"

Arrrrgh. February can suck it.

At least I got 400 meaningless points in fake Jeopardy.

PC Load Letter? What the f@&* does that mean?

According to the internet, it is when you need to insert the proper size of paper in the printer. It also means "FRIG OFF YOU STUPID PIECE OF MACHINERY, I HATE YOU WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND FRIGGING SUNS!" That is what I say when it gives me fuckered up error messages.

So go to print a page and the thing starts beeping at me. It wants me to put letter sized paper in the manual feed. (EVEN THOUGH THERE IS LETTER PAPER IN THE EFFING TRAY ALREADY BECAUSE WHO THE HELL USES LEGAL PAPER BESIDES LAWYERS???) So I put some letter paper in the manual feed and press the button like it tells me to. It swallows all of it up at once and BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEEP! Now there is a paper jam.

It tells me to open up the back door, so I do and pull out the paper. I close everything back up and hit the button again. BEEEEP! BEEEEEP! BEEEEEEEP! Paper jam! Open the front door, then the upper front door, then take out the cartridge and then pull out the paper. FUCK!

Finally the stupid whore machine prints out the pages I need FROM THE TRAY and this is when I realise that I am living the real life version of Office Space. Seriously. You think I am joking?

They moved my desk 2 times this month.



I can't wait to beat the crap out of that thing.

Another day, another novelty song...

Today I had yet ANOTHER novelty song stuck in my head. This time, I loved every minute of it.



I enjoy that when people were trying to tell me important work-type things all I was thinking was "Werewolf Bar Mitzvah, spooky, scary... boys becoming men, men becoming wolves."

I must say, I think the best part is "Cause you gotta love bar mitzvahs, even if you're not a... AWOOOOOOO!"

Stuck.

You know when you hear a little snippet of a song in passing and then you keep singing it in your head all day? ALL DAY? OVER AND OVER AGAIN?

This was my Tuesday.




Seriously. All day. "la lasagna..."

Livin' la vida lame-o.

Much like a certain species of crab and several disciples of a guy named Herman, I too have decided to become a hermit.

Temporarily.

This is not because I hate people (though sometimes I do) or because I fear the outside world (though sometimes I do)... it is because I am ghetto poor. For serious!

I suppose I could spare some cash for social occasions... but whenever I do that it seems to add up without me really noticing. Then I look at my bank account and I'm all, "Where the eff did my money go? OH YEAH, IT IS IN MY TUMMY BECAUSE I SPENT IT ON FOOD, BEER AND COFFEE."

So I have decided to kick it grown up stylez and put my money towards the things it really should be going to. This means that I am basically not going to go out anywhere... ever. Unless of course it is a special occasion. I will temporarily be bored out of my tree whilst I put the old cable tv to good use, but in the long run I will be a happier, less anxious person. Yay me! (groan)

So if you ask me to hang out and I say no, just know that it's not you... it's my goddamn bank account. Don't take it personally. I still enjoy your friendship.

I've got the skillz... now I just have to pay the billz. Word.

A benevolent dictator.

Yesterday I re-took the "How Evil Are You?" test to see how much MORE evil I have become in the past year. I am 6% more evil! I now rate a solid 80% on the scale of evilness. You know what that means... it means y'all better not eff with my shizz, cause I might have to cut you.

You've been warned in a hip and relevant manner.

Bernie objected to my answer to the following question, calling me a liar. (BTW, lying is EVIL... so even if I was lying, that would just prove my evilness. But I was not lying.)

Q: Which would you prefer: world domination or world peace?
A: World domination, OBVIOUSLY.

Anyone who chooses world peace is an idiot. Why? Because if you choose world peace, you don't get anything out of the deal. I chose world domination because if I were in charge everyone would have to do what I said... so if I felt like it, I could order people to create world peace. DUH. Therefore, I get world peace AND I get to be in charge.

Plus I could make George Clooney be my boyfriend. SO THERE.

PS: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

A Modest Proposal

So I have this really great idea. We should combine Thursday and Friday into one SUPERDAY and call it Thurfriday. (I am open to new name suggestions.)

I know, you are thinking "Holy crap, where did you get such an awesome idea?"

Well, it happened this morning when I woke up and thought it was Friday... and then got really bummed out when I realized it was only Thursday. (Friggin' DISS!)

So anyways, the most important thing about Thurfriday is that it would be the last weekday before the extra-long weekend which would now be made up of Friday Proper, Saturday and Sunday. It would pretty much be the best thing ever.

Come on kids, get on board with Thurfriday! Yay!

Oops, there goes another rubber tree plant!

While I was on the phone with my mom last night helping her figure out how the crap to use her new computer (an iMac! It's almost cruel that these people, my parents, who have ZERO knowledge of technology have such an awesome computer.) she told me this delightful little story about my nephew, Gavin.

When he came home from pre-school yesterday he was talking to Ashley, my brother's fiance, about what he wants to be when he grows up. Here is the list:

1. A fireman. (A little on the dangerous side, but a noble and perfectly respectable occupation.)
2. A teacher. (Good solid union job, summers off. Decent choice.)
3. A canary. (They are yellow...???????)

Sadly, I am probably going to have to be the one to tell him how it is basically impossible to get a full time teaching job right out of school. Just call me Auntie Sarah, the crusher of dreams.

Seriously though. A CANARY! Not even I can begin to understand the 4 year old logic behind that one.

However, I'm not really one to talk. According to my mom, when I was the same age this lady asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I said I wanted to deliver the paper. The lady was all, "Oh, you mean you want to write for the paper?" to which I responded, "NOOOOO. I WANT TO DELIVER THE PAPER."

My mom's response was, "Well, at least this way she won't be dissappointed!"

And I was not. My brother, however was a different story. He wanted to deliver pizza. The poor guy never learned how to drive.

Coming soon - more awesome family dysfunction!

YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!














THIS MIGHT FINALLY BE A MOVIE!!!!!! LOOK!

Awesome.

Boo! I found a real ghost!

Perhaps I am behind the times slightly, being that lately I seem to be more interested in hip hop and classic rock as opposed to indie rock. Whatever. As long as I eventually get to these things, I figure I'm okay.

ANYWAYS... so I just heard this Patrick Watson song for the first time a couple of weeks ago, and it FREAKED ME OUT. I was freaked out by how amazingly good it is, but what REALLY freaked me out is that it sounds so much like Jeff Buckley... who has been dead since 1997. Either this dude stole some tapes or he has become posessed by the voice of Buckley. Either way, it's weird and creepily amazing.




I should also mention that he won the 2007 Polaris Music Prize. (Take that, Arcade Fire!)

Now that you know what I will be listening to obsessively for the next 3 weeks, you can finally get some rest.

Giddy up.

With a few exceptions, it is generally thought that movie sequels are never as good as the original films. I was thinking that while I was watching Young Guns II.

But then I become confused.

As it turns out, Young Guns II is way crazier than regular Young Guns. I had completely forgotten about two things:

1) Ummmm... BLAZE OF GLORY??? That song is so rad. Plus, Jon Bon Jovi has a tiny little cameo appearance. How is that not awesome? Dang.

2) Weirdo Gil Grissom from CSI Vegas is totally in this movie. Normally that would not be awesome, because he is supremely annoying. However, in this case there is a part where he happens to look sort of like an old-timey version of Wolverine, sans giant claws. WTF? That's crazy! (It should be noted that he does shave his face and looks normal again. It is not the same after that.)

Oh, 1990. You were so wacky. I love you for that.

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.

There's a reason they call lame dudes "Chachi".

So I'm sitting here in my pj's watching "Scott Baio is 45... and Single" and feeling a little anxiety. (Mind you, I did just drink a latte, so it could just be the caffeine.)

ANYWAYS... so the basic idea of the show is that Scott Baio is 45... and single... because he's a total asshole. So he hired this life coach woman to help him figure out why he can't commit to any serious relationships and why he has cheated on every single woman he has ever dated.

This show is mildly entertaining because it is SCOTT BAIO... and because he's such an asshole... and because he hangs out with Wayne from the Wonder Years... but mostly because it is interesting to see how messed up this dude is. He dates these beautiful girls and breaks up with them for weird reasons such as "Denise Richards has big feet that look like flippers so I dumped her." Whaaaa?

So why the anxiety? Well, obviously I'm not as effed up as Scott Baio, but the thought of wandering around at 45 and still trying to find a spouse is downright terrifying. Seriously. Screw horror movies, THIS is the really scary shit. It may give me nightmares. *shudder*

Not so bad after all...

You know, being at work becomes slightly more enjoyable when you listen to Fleetwood Mac at your desk.



TUSK!

So good.

Holiday Math!

Here is a little festive math lesson for you:

Christmas + presents(hilarious aunts and uncles) = GOOD TIMES

HOWEVER...

Work + week between Christmas and New Year's = TOTALLY LAME^2(!)

It's the truth.

How was your Christmas? Mine was good times. I got some new technology. Woot.

It's like Festivus, all over again.

So here I am, at work on Christmas Eve. Everyone else around here didn't have to come in today. I figured that I would be done by around 11:30 or noon... and I was. At 11. But I am still here... because I have to help other people do their work. I know it's the season of giving and crap, but SERIOUSLY. I was done... and I should be eating a delicious brunch right about now. But no. I am stuck at work, not eating and being REALLY hungry. I'm starting to think that I am going to miss brunch entirely.

I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT.

Brunch is so delicious. Working is so lame. THIS SUCKS!

I'm in a glass case of emotion right now. I'm really hungry. Please save me some scraps of bread or something. This is total bullshit.

I'm a writer? I'm a writer.

Last night I went to a super crazy Christmas party where I didn't really know anyone. So I met new people. One of these people was a friend of Ange (the hostess). We were making all the usual small talk... and when she asked me about my job, I did the best I could to explain what it is that I do.

Girl: "So, do you do any writing at your job?"

ME: "No... I'm not really a writer."

Girl: "But do you write?"

ME: "Yeah... but not at work."

Girl: "So you like to write... and you write for fun..."

ME: "Yeah... but I'm not really a writer."

Girl: (laughing) "You're totally a writer. Don't be so modest about it. Just because you don't get paid for it, doesn't mean it doesn't count!"

ME: "I guess you're right. Awesome! I'm totally a writer."

Sweet.

If the sun isn't awake yet, I shouldn't be either.

I got up stupidly early this morning to go to the annual Christmas time work breakfast... which was at 7am... which is kind of bullshit. The breakfast is always fun and delicious, but it is the time that is bullshit.

It is now just after 9am and I am 2 cups of coffee in. I am still way tired. We will just have to see how this plays out... my guess is not well.

YAY CHRISTMAS!

Ouch.

I still can't believe this conversation actually happened. It hurts me so.

Work Ladies: "Hey, who sings this?"

Me: "What?"

W.L.: "Bohemian Rhapsody. Who sings it? It's Meatloaf, right?"

Me: "GAH!" *puts hands over heart and falls over dramatically* "QUEEEEEEEEEEEENNNN!"
W.L.: "Ohhhhh, Queen!"

Me: ""That personally offended me. Meatloaf? MEATLOAF????? I can't believe you said Meatloaf..."

I'm still getting over it. MEATLOAF???? That's just insulting.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME????

MSN seems to think this was important enough to write about:

Ben Affleck's Ginger Addiction

Ben Affleck is addicted to gingerbread men.

The Hollywood actor - who has a two-year-old daughter, Violet, with wife Jennifer Garner - says his favourite part of Christmas is snacking on the sweet treat.

He said: "For me, Christmas is all about gingerbread cookies. I love them. My friends and family always tell me to stop eating them but I can't! I can't! They're so addictive, I just can't help myself."

The 'Hollywoodland' star admits he is looking forward to taking a break from work and spending some "quality" time with his family.

Meanwhile, Ben's wife Jennifer is set to be seduced by Ricky Gervais.
The 'Alias' beauty is to play the British comic's love interest in new film 'This Side of Truth', in which Gervais plays a man who discovers how to lie in a world where people only know how to be honest.

You know, I'm so glad they posted this, because last night I woke up in a panic thinking
"HOLY SHIT, DOES BEN AFFLECK LIKE GINGERBREAD????" Finally a kid can get some sleep around here!

Jesus.

Tomorrow's story: "Matt Damon Also Enjoys Christmas Baking."

A man so attractive he makes heterosexual men blush...

I went to see Bon Jovi last night! It was free! Otherwise, I would not have attended. But I'm glad I did. Here's why:






















LOOK AT THAT SMILE!!!! Seriously. How friggin cute and charming is that dude? He made Craig blush a little. I don't blame him.

However, seeing the show last night made me realize something. As far as rockstars go, Jon Bon Jovi is a kind of a nerd. He does not bring with him the usual tales of scandal and saucy behaviour. He married his high school sweetheart and has 4 kids. HELLO?? LAME!

He also kind of dances like a bit of a dork. There are points when you are watching him and thinking, "Really? Are you really doing that?" But then he smiles. And you forgive him.

It also doesn't hurt when she shakes his butt either. The dude has a nice butt, I gotta say.

What Christmas means to me, my love...

I got you a present. You can open it early. Why? Because nothing says Christmas like shirtless Steve Perry and a little Wheel In the Sky.




This is what the wise men were singing when they were following that star thingy.

Also, is it just me or does Steve Perry kind of have a cute haircut? Layered with bangs... he's so in right now.

Just because.

I just found out that there are some locations of Superstore that are staying open 24 hours a day from now until just before Christmas. This seems CRAZY to me. I kind of want to go... only because it seems so weird and forbidden.

Can you imagine? Me! In a grocery store! At 2am!

That's just wacky.

None of the Vancouver ones are open that late... so if you wanna go, you have to haul your butt out to Langley or Coquitlam. I'm so there.

Thanks folks, I'll be here all month.

So that's it. I'm officially done with the holidays for the rest of the month. That's weaksauce! At least I don't have to work on the stat holidays... but it's still lame. If I were not forbidden to take time off for the week of Christmas, I would have taken it then. Diss!

I've been at work for about an hour now, and I'm ready to go home now. How did I do this all year long? Crazy.

Back with a vengance.

My seasonal rage issues, that is.

I was really happy when I got to hang out with Jamie and Carla this afternoon, because I hadn't seen them in AGES. It's funny how you never really realize how much you have missed someone until you see them again. It was so fun hanging out with them again.

I was fine when I got to the mall to meet my sister. But by the time I got out of there, I was effing MISERABLE. Not just regular style grumpy... but like, yell at children kind of mad. I would have too, because about 17 of them had run into me by the time I left.

THEN I got home... only to leave again 3 mins later to run to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for 7 dozen cookies that I really don't want to fucking make, but must make TONIGHT.

I'm so not happy right now. You can only hope that by the time you cross my path, I will have brightened up a bit. However, I can say that right now it is not bloody likely to happen any time soon. I HATE CHRISTMAS!

Actually, I kind of hate everything at the moment. Including NPR. RAWR!

A slightly selfish Christmas gift.

When I was a kid, I had this toy that I LOVED. It was seriously the coolest thing EVER. Somewhere along the line my mom got rid of it... but I tell you, that thing was the most fun a kid could ever ask for. Which is why I freaked the hell out when I found it in Winners yesterday and bought it for my nephew for Christmas. (It's okay for me to say this on the internet, because he is 4 and can't read.)

What is this magical toy?? You know you love it, child of the 80's...





















THE SNOOPY SNO CONE MACHINE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh yes, it is real. It is sitting in my house right now. This thing is worth its weight in gold, I tell you. It provided me with so much amusement as a child... I can't imagine any kid NOT loving it.

Now I will just have to convince him that this is one of those special toys that lives at Grandma and Grandpa's house... (don't look at me like that. It says Ages 4 - ADULT on the box!)

Oy to the world... Chrismukkah is here!

MERRY MAZEL TOV!

Well kids, it is that time of year again... it is Chrismukkah!

In keeping with tradition, I have strung up my Hanukkah lights and set up my makeshift menorah. AND this year we also have a little Christmas tree! In keeping with the Chrismukkah colour scheme, it is silver with blue ornaments. Oh yes, it is awesome.

I love Chrismukkah! It is way better than regular old Christmas, that's for sure. My mother has always been happy to indulge me in celebrating this wacky little holiday by making me latkes and calling me on the first night of Hanukkah... but I still don't get any presents. Meh. For me, it is more about the fun I have making matzoh ball soup and latkes. THIS year, I am going to make an attempt at my very first Matzoh Bread house! I'll try and put some pics up when it is done.

In the meantime, check this out. It's pretty much the best holiday music EVER. Chrismukkah is hilarious, yo! HILARIOUS.

Goodbye, old friends.

My landlords officially moved out today, as the new owners are moving in. (In the snow! Ack!)

They moved out all of their stuff last week sometime, so I didn't get to say goodbye to the baby (Vesna) and the puppy (Duka) or the mommy (Marina). Frankly, I'm a little sad. I'm going to miss playing with Duka and getting puppy cuddles to make up for the fact that I don't get to see my dog as often as I would like. I told Darren to send us pictures of the Vesna and Duka. I really hope he does, because they are seriously CUTE.

However, it's not all sad news. I met the new landlords today and they are super nice and really cool. They also happen to have A REALLY CUTE BABY!!!! They also have a 4 year old that I haven't met yet, but odds are that she is totally adorable. It's only a matter of time before they get a puppy, right? Kids LOVE puppies.

I think this is going to work out just fine. Hooray for cuteness!

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.