The Final Countdown

Yes, that song by Europe is awful. But is it THE WORST??? (No. It is not.)

A couple of weeks ago I was invited to join a contest by Alan, my super awesome hair cutter guy. The basic premise is that all participants must attempt to create the SHITTIEST MIXTAPE EVER. What does the winner get? Glory. What is at stake for the loser? This:



Gah! Total humiliation! On Robson Street!

No way was I going to allow this to happen to me. Hence why I spent an entire weekend mulling this over. Here, is the list I submitted, complete with video links and my rationale for choosing these horrific little songs.


1. Sometimes When We Touch - Dan Hill
HOLY FRIGGING CRAP DO I HATE THIS SONG. I HATE IT WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND SUNS. Here's proof. WHAT A GODDAMN BABY THIS GUY IS! I need to stop talking about this before I have another "episode".

2. Horny 98 - Mousse T
I just really think walking around with a bombox that is blasting out "I'm horny. Horny horny horny..." is really frigging funny.

3. I've Never Been to Me - Charlene
It's just bad. Awesomely bad.

4. Axel F. - Crazy Frog
This song makes me hate Europe. THE ENTIRE CONTINENT. Eddie Murphy should cut a bitch for this one. I am feeling physically ill after listening to this. Admittedly, I may have
over-caffeinated this morning, but this really sent me over the edge. RIGHT OVER IT!

5. We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off - Jermaine Stewart
This is mainly for the lyrical content, and how incredibly AMAZING it would be to see a dude listening to this in public. It is perhaps the single most embarassing song a man could ever be caught listening to. Especially if said individual were singing along. Seriously. I think my favourite line is "Come on baby, show some class. Why you wanna move so fast?" What I think he was trying to say was, "Eeeeeew, girl germs!"

As it turns out, I did not win. But I didn't lose! Here is the winning playlist:

1) Joan Osbourne- One of Us
2) Bette Midler- Wind Beneath My Wings
3) Sarah McLachilan + Delerium- Silence
4) Snow- Informer
5) Hanson- MMMBop

Which will be followed on the boombox by the LOSING playilist:
1. Black Velvet - Alannah Myles
2. How Bizzare - OMG
3. Don't Worry Be Happy - Bobby McFerrin
4. I've been thinking about you - London Beat
5. Kyrie - Mr. Mister

I can't WAIT to see this on youtube. Awesome.

You are NOT going to live forever, and you are NOT going to learn how to fly!

This morning I received a very troubling email from my dear friend in Toronto. He had witnessed something truly horrendous and was obviously traumatized:

You gotta help me out with something. Remember stirrup pants? Well, I saw a woman today wearing the stirrup but no pants. She had a dress on so it wasn't completely inappropriate but just high heels leading directly into… stirrups. They looked like toit legwarmers at first glance ended at mid-calf…. Then they just stopped. I don't think they were therapeutic. Have you seen such a thing? Is it a backlash against the whole tights thing? So confused.

You are not the only one, friend. I imagine what he saw to be a shorter version of this:

Ugh! Stirrup legwarmers! This isn't friggin Fame, people. Unless you are in a dance studio making your dreams come true, I don't want to see you in legwarmers. If your legs are cold, perhaps you might like to try something else... like say, tights? Or maybe... I dunno... PANTS????

This is just the worst. It really is. Just don't do it.

Breathe easy.

Oh, hey there. How's it going? What did you do tonight? It was so nice out. Did you go for a walk? Did you go on a date? Did you hold hands with someone at sunset? Awwww. That's nice. Want to know what I did?

















I stuck this up my nose and poured salt water through my nasal cavity.

Yeah. I know how to party.

I get it now.

This morning as I was sitting on the bus I had convinced myself that I probably needed to get an iced coffee from Starbucks. I was totally ready for it. But then when it came time to get off the buss I was annoyed to discover that they had moved the bus stop again! Now it is across the intersection from where it used to be. This meant that if I were to go get a coffee, I would have had to cross the street. TWICE.

You see, crossing the street would have meant that I would have been on the wrong side of the street, and would have had to cross the street again to get to work. That just seemed like way to much of a hassle, so I didn't get coffee. Suddenly that ridiculous two Starbucks stores in the same intersection at Robson and Thurlow seemed to make perfect sense.

OF COURSE! One should never have to cross the street for coffee! That's bullshit.

All growed up.

My little sister is going to move out of our parents house in a few months. Eeeek! She's only 21... and seeing as though I was not able to handle that kind of scary grown-upness until I was 24, I can understand why she is so nervous. She seems far more prepared than I ever was. Today she went out and bought a set of Gordon Ramsey pots and pans, which are made by Royal Doulton. THAT SHIT IS CRAZY! They come in special storage bags so you can keep them shiny and unscratched. They were crazy expensive, and I can't even imagine myself spending that much on kitchenware. Shoes, yes. Crap for my house? NO.

My mom was all proud and telling her about how she will probably never have to buy another set of them ever again, because these ones are so good. Since she is moving in with her boyfriend, it kind of makes sense for her to spend money on these things. But for some reason, I can't imagine spending money on things like that just for me. It always seems like that is the kind of thing you buy when you get married... or someone else gets it for you as a wedding present.

So basically what I am saying here is that my sister has fancy pots and pans, and I cook with the cheapest stuff from Ikea, which aren't even actually mine because I am pretty sure Lydia bought them. And I don't know how I feel about that.

I can cook.

Yesterday when I was waiting for the bus home, I was standing next to this older woman. She was holding a grocery bag and it wasn't very full. She was looking at all of the things she had just bought. When she pulled out a single serving Stouffers box and started reading the box, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of dread and slight panic:

"OH MY GOD. I DON'T WANT TO BE THE LONELY OLD WOMAN WHO EATS STOUFFERS!!!!"

And just as I had predicted, when I told Lydia about it, she laughed and said, "Oh, don't worry. You won't eat Stouffers."

Because I can cook. Sure, I'll be old and alone, but at least I won't be eating Stouffers.

So I've got that going for me, which is nice. (Aaaand cue the theme from Caddyshack. I'm alright.)

No one cares, no one sympathizes. You just stay home and play synthesizers.

When I was mulling over whether or not I was going to go to Pemberton, one of the factors was how many acts I actually WANTED to see. Like, BADLY. The list turned out to be rather smallish, hence the not going. It came down to two obvious ones: Jay-Z and Tom Petty, of course! There was pretty much only one other act that I was interested in. If I had made it to Pemberton, you bet your ass I would have been shaking it to Chromeo! (Were you there? Did you see them? Was it AWESOME????)

So I was pretty excited to see that Dooce had posted a Chromeo vid today. Given my taste for pretty much anything even slightly 80's influenced, it's no surprise that I love this band. You can't hear them without dancing. It's impossible. And now for a dance break. (I'm being lame and posting the same video Dooce did, because I like it. But my other fave is Needy Girl.)



They also have the distinction of being one of the only bands to successfully use a vocoder without PISSING ME OFF. (*ahem* BON JOVI!) Now that's really saying something.

Older. Wiser. But mostly just older.

Birthdays are never a big deal to me. I've always felt a little uncomfortable with the idea of them. It feels a little awkward to me to throw a party for myself and force people to come and shower me with attention. I don't really want the attention. I just wanna hang out, you know? I don't need the fanfare.

This year my birthday was great... I got to spend some time with some lovely girls, exploring a lovely city. And I got to go to jail. Ain't nothing wrong with that. I managed to turn 27, away from my normal life. And I loved it.

But it got me thinking about something. Because I am a person who does not really crave attention, I think I am misunderstood. When I am hanging out in a large group, I'm the one who is quite happy to sit in a corner and watch everyone else interact. It's fascinating to me. (Especially if I am with people who are a) single and b) drunk.) Seeing how other people communicate with each other, both verbally and non-verbally, is the craziest thing ever. The problem is, that while I am busy watching and genuinely enjoying myself, it is often interpreted as anti-social behavior.

You see, when I am with other people, I like to listen. I don't always have something of value to say. I hate the notion of talking for the sake of talking. Some of the stupidest things I have ever said in my life have been the direct result of me talking because I feel as though I am supposed to. To me, the moments that follow me saying something completely dumb are far more awkward than the moments of silence. If I'm not talking to you, it's not because I'm an asshole. It's because I'm trying NOT to be an asshole.

Another frustration I experience as a result of being kind of an introvert is that people tend to assume that if you don't like to talk all the time that you lack confidence. I do have a lot of insecurities, and of course, I am never confident all the time. But most of the time, I feel pretty okay about who and what I am. I'm okay with the fact that I don't want to talk all of the time. I'm okay with the fact that I don't always smile. I'm okay with how I look with no makeup on. It's me. It's who I am. I don't see the point in hiding it.

So there you go. If I'm not saying anything, I'm not necessarily mad at you. If I'm not schmoozing, I'm not necessarily being a jerk. Though there is always the slight possibility that I AM being a jerk. :P

Facebook etiquette?

I still find it weird that we have had to develop entirely new behavioural guidelines not only for the Internet, but for individual websites and applications. It's a lot to take in, and a lot to remember!

Don't even get me started on twitter etiquette. (twitterquette? GAWD!) I'm still trying to figure that out. However, having used Facebook for awhile now, you would think that I would have gotten it by now. But I do not. I still have questions.

For one thing, I have heard talk of purging friend lists. Am I supposed to do this? Of course there are people on there that I have never talked to since adding them. But that doesn't mean I never will... so I guess I just keep adding people? What do you do? Ack!

Then there is the matter of when it is acceptable to add new people as Facebook friends. On several occasions I have met people and after only having met them once, they want to be my Facebook friend. I think it's kind of nice. But is it also kind of weird? I don't normally add friends after meeting them once. Mostly because I've met them once! There was one time where I did that and my friend request was accepted, but then I felt SO WEIRD about it after. Should I ever run into this person again, will they think I am a crazy stalker because I don't even know them, but I'm all "BE MY FACEBOOK FRIEND!"? It's kind of weird, isn't it?

Facebook has created this whole new level of social anxiety for me. When people don't write on my wall I wonder why. When people DO write on my wall I wonder why. Sometimes people have inside jokes that I do not understand and I feel dumb. I often wonder if I might be better off not knowing this much information about the people in my life. But then I think about how lame I would feel if I didn't know all this stuff because I DIDN'T have Facebook.

So basically what I am saying is that it's a catch-22. You're damned if you do, and damned if you don't. How fun!

God, I hate the internet.

PS: Sorry baby, you know I didn't mean that! Don't you ever leave me! EVER!!!!!! I love youuuuuuuu, internet!

Paul Weller :1 Rainy day: ZERO

Today is a bit gloomy, innit? The bottoms of my pants were good and soaked by the time I got to work. (I really hate that.) Days like this seem to offer up plenty of reasons to be grumpy... but I don't need them. Because this popped up on my iPod and made me very happy (because it is a great song!):



The Jam - Walking in Heaven's Sunshine

I LOVE THE JAM. REALLY A LOT.

Note to self.

Being that I am a heathen, it probably would have helped to have perused the bible before going to see Jesus Christ Superstar. I still have no idea who the rich guy in the shiny suit was.

Wikipedia to the rescue!

Whoa! Pictures!

If you are so inclined, you are welcome to peruse my collection of photographs that I took in San Francisco whilst on vacation. 

Flickr, yo!

Please note that since I do not actually own a digital camera in working order, these were all taken on my cell phone camera. Some of them are pretty cool, if I do say so myself... enjoy! 

Chillin out, maxin, relaxin all cool...

I am enjoying the rest of my days off by sleeping in really late, and doing next to nothing. After 5 days of being on the go alllllllll day long, it is kinda nice!

Pretty much everyone I work with is going up to Pemberton this weekend, but I am not. I probably could have gone, but after having such a busy week away and having to be back at work at 8am Monday morning, I decided that I would rather spend the weekend at home. I'm not lying about it when I say that I'm kinda glad to not be going, I swear! There will be no porta-potties, tents and hours upon hours in the car for this girl!

Though I must admit, I do wish I could see Jigga. I love him! *sigh*

We now return to our regularly scheduled program.

Hello, friends! Well, I've arrived back at home all safe and sound. And under the duty free exemption limits for my time away in San Francisco! (Woot.)

In true nerd fashion I have spent the last 2 hours on the Internet, trying to get everything updated so that I can feel whole again. Seriously. I laugh at those chumps on their Blackberries and iPhones who can't bear to be disconnected from their Internet lives for more than an hour... but now I kind of get it. It felt strange and foreign to not be able to pop back to the hotel room and at least update twitter. (Which, by the way, was a huge mistake. Because like 90 million people unfollowed me this weekend! Thanks for the loyalty, a-holes!)

I would like to try to put together some sort of wrap-up post about the trip which I will do sometime during the rest of my glorious week off. (Boo-yah!) But in the meantime, I will share with you a few things I learned about San Francisco:

1) People there are are nice. And they will talk to you. And they will be friendly. Even if they don't know you. And they will come up to you and ASK YOU if you need directions because you obviously look confused! WTF? I am totally rethinking the way I deal with tourists here.

2) Apparently, I am hot there. Lydia claims that I got cat-called when we walked past a bar. Awesome? I can't say because I didn't see if they were cute or not. Odds are NO.

3) Transit there is way more efficient than it is here. There are like 3 trains you can take. And buses. And cable cars. And street cars. And it's cheap. Good times.

4) I will go there again. Lots. Next time I will know better than to try to stay at the hostel. I'll just go straight to a hotel.

5) Apparently when it is your birthday, that is the day when nobody reads your blog. Analytics does not lie! The bloop on the graph was like, way low down. It's okay though. I got a lil' facebook love. Muah!

That's all you kids are getting for now. I'm tired! I've had a big day.

EWWWWWWWWWWW!

I understand that things are difficult when you are standing on a crowded bus. Everyone is a little closer than they would like to be, physically speaking. However, most of us understand the concept of personal space and therefore manage to stand on the bus without actually touching each other.

EXCEPT FOR THE MAN WHO STOOD BEHIND ME THIS MORNING.

This 50 something man stood SO close to me that his fat gut was touching my back. At one point I shuffled forward to get a little space, and he sidled right up behind me again. I think his entire body was touching me. I wanted to scream. And throw up a little. It was horrifying.

I stood there feeling a little violated, and wondered what (if anything) I could get away with saying to this man. Things that came to mind were:

"Seriously. BACK THE EFF OFF."
"See all those people at the back of the bus? See how they aren't touching each other. PLEASE OBSERVE."
"STOP TOUCHING ME YOU GROSS, GROSS MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Also worth mentioning is how I nearly full on elbowed him in the stomach. On purpose. Like one would do if they were being attacked from behind. I actually started to raise my arm up... and stopped just short of making contact. I very nearly intently injured this man.

I'm sure he just has no concept of personal space... and it probably wasn't a creepy thing... but it certainly felt that way. But in the event that this should happen again (to me or someone else) what is the appropriate course of action? How do you tell someone to back off in a polite manner without totally embarrassing them?

I could seriously go for another shower right about now. Yuck.

This is what you call talent, people.

I made this for my sister, because she sent me a Facebook gift of two robots along with lyrics to "The Humans Are Dead".





















Who will win? Will bottomless lyrics reign supreme or will phat beats and birds on the back triumph? YOU DECIDE.

I hope you like it, sister!


*Also, the fact that I likely have too much time on my hands has been noted.*

Now that's just inconsiderate...

For whatever reason, (ask Lydia) we only pay for "lite speed" internet. Or as I like to call it, "bullshit ghetto slow" speed. Back in the day this wasn't a huge issue for me... but now since I like to do things such as watch videos it is really annoying. Luckily, someone around these parts cares enough to have an unsecured network. Which is way the eff faster. So I steal it, while Lydia uses our slow speed because she just uses it for casual browsing.

Normally, this works out just fine. But sometimes it does not. Sometimes I can't friggin connect to the unsecured network. This is when I LOSE MY GODDAMN MIND. I bet you can guess that it is happening RIGHT NOW. All I wanted to do was watch an episode of Weeds and go to bed. But nooooooooooooooooooo. I can't do that. Because they aren't intuitive enough to realize that I can't connect and therefore they need to reboot or something. JERKS.

So here I am, with nothing good on tv and nothing good on the internet because my network is a pansy and can't handle videos. My network is an asshole.

Perhaps I should just pay for decent internet service? Or not. Meh.

He gets it from me.

I always look forward to seeing my nephew, Gavin because he's so awesome. He's only 5, but I can tell that he is going to be the kind of person I'd like to hang out with when he's a grown up. He's super creative (like me!), never shuts up (like me!), is always coming up strange ideas (like me!) and always says the most hilarious things. (LIKE ME! Right, guys?)

Take last night at dinner, for example. He was helping my sister and I set the table and he kept trying to take more things out of the fridge to stick on the table. He grabbed a gar of pickles and said to me, "Whoa. Auntie Sarah. We gotta have pickles on the table. People will want them. Trust me." So I let him put the pickles on the table. Half an hour later when he was eating his dinner, he turns around and says he has to tell us all something. "Okay, just so you know... when everyone is all done eating their dinner then we can put our plates away and THEN... it will be PICKLE TIME!" Please note that "pickle time" was said with jazz hands for emphasis.

Then there was the matter of hopscotch. We used sidewalk chalk to draw it on the patio. He was looking for the chalk but couldn't remember what it was called.

G: "Where is the hopscotch?"
Me: "It's right there, DUH. On the ground. Where we drew it."
G: "Noooooo. Not that. I need that stuff."
Me: "I don't know what you are talking about."
G: "Ummm... where's the hop... WHERE IS THE SCOTCH?"
Grandpa (my dad): "Gah! I'm fresh out! All I have is whiskey."

THEN... he was actually playing hopscotch when he threw a suspicious looking rock. I mentioned to my mom about how it didn't LOOK like a rock... was that... is it... OMG, IT IS! Yep. He was playing hopscotch using a dried up dog turd. And then he screamed. And we all laughed our faces off.

Oh, how I enjoy children that do not belong to me.

I did not vote for you.

This is how I started off my morning yesterday. Needless to say, it was kind of an awesome day.

So I'm walking along in a non-specific location when the mayor zips up beside me. I turn to him and say, "Hey! Good morning."

The Mayor: "Do you know where I can find (blank) and (blank)?"

Me: "Sure! You just go around that corner over there and then go straight. You'll see it when you get around the corner."

The Mayor: "Great, thanks!"

Me: "No problem."

He then zips off in his lightning fast wheelchair. As soon as he is out if earshot I mutter, "And you can tell your garbage buddies I said thanks for not picking up my goddamn garbage despite the fact that I followed the protocol, ya turd."

Then I carried on my merry way.

Heh. I totally called the mayor a turd.

This is not unlike the time I ran past him at the Sun Run and in my out-of-breath whisper said to myself, "I did not vote for you, but thanks for the encouragement."

I think I need a meme.

So this past week has been seriously frustrating for me, because I seem to have developed a serious case of writers block. It's bad, people. Normally I find all sorts of things to write about just by going about my normal life... but this week? I got nuthin'. It has even spilled over into twitter updates!

Nothing has really made me feel compelled to write. It makes me sad, because I do so love the process of writing.

I just sit there, fingers hovering over the keys waiting for inspiration that never seems to come along. All while watching that horrid little blinking cursor, just taunting me. Flashing over and over again. It might as well be chanting "You. Are. Horrible. You. Suck. Large."

All I can do about it is to wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Fucking cursor.

So nice.

It's so nice looking outside, that I am considering not going home straight away. Instead, I might just find a nice shady spot under a tree and read that goddamn Oprah book my parents are forcing me to read because they are convinced it will make me a happier and more well balanced individual.

Or something like that.

Rapunzel.

It's been awhile since my last haircut. A loooooooooong while. I think it was just before Christmas! That's crazy. Especially since my hair grows so darn quickly. I had been planning to get my hair cut sometime in the next 2 weeks, so I could have cute new hair for when I go to San Francisco.

HOWEVER... in the past week I have worn my hair down a few times and everyone keeps telling me how great it looks. This is the kind of thing a girl likes to hear every once in awhile. So now I have a dilemma. To cut, or not to cut? I just don't know what to do! I do enjoy getting my hair cut... but I also enjoy compliments.

What do you think, friends? Help a kid out, will ya?

This is how I deal with my rage.

In the past week, I have watched two shows that pay homage to one of the best scenes in the history of film: Kevin Bacon's Dance of Rage from Footloose.



Oh, you think it's lame and ineffective, but it is the very best method of dealing with your anger. Trust me on this one. If it didn't work, would it have made an appearance in Flight of the Conchords?




So full of rage! But not after the dancing is over.

One thing to keep in mind when practicing this method, is that you are not limited to dancing out your rage in an abandoned factory or warehouse. There is no reason you can't take that shit outside to a wooded area and work it out.



So go ahead kids. Dance it out. Just try not to get hurt. Maybe try to stay away from slopes, and you should be fine.

Wanna go to prom?

Today I decided that I really wish I could go to a prom again. Except this time I would look really cute, and maybe I'd actually have a date? Or something?

Really, what triggered this was hearing this song on the radio. After that I could not stop thinking about how awesome it would be to walk into the prom and hear that song playing.




OMG. Do you think Jake Ryan is still single? Cause he could pick me up in his hot car ON MY BIRTHDAY and then we would eat cake while sitting on a table. And then he can take me to the prom. And THAT, friends, is the plot to the super ultimate Molly Ringwald film.



Seriously. Look at that tall drink of water.

Sorry... what?

Here I am. On what is now day 9 of the not sleeping enough party that I have been invited to! Yayyyyyy!

I'm so seriously out of it today. Everything takes me 14 million times longer to do because I'm so slow.

I have no idea how much sleep I am actually getting... all I know is that I end up waking up a LOT during the course of the night and when I do sleep, I do so lightly. It is kind of bullshit.

Tonight, I'm bringing melatonin to the party. It better friggin work. I can't take much more of this. I'm like a zombie. But I eat chicken and tofu instead of your brains. Yum.

Throw da water on em'

I have watched this routine like 5 times now, and it makes me want to run out the damn door right now and take a hip hop class. I want to dance this routine! It's so friggin' great.




Tabitha and Napoleon are fast becoming my new fave choreographers on this show. They are wicked!

Peace out, yo. I gots to go practice.

Can you feel it?

It is late and I have to get up early... but I am so excited about something that I just have to share it with you now. It can't wait until tomorrow!

Tonight I was lucky enough to have tickets to see Naturally 7 at the Centre as part of the jazz festival. I volunteer every year so I can take advantage of the free tickets. I usually end up seeing about 3 - 5 shows during the festival, which I certainly could not afford to do on my own. I also love it because it allows me to explore and discover new music that I may have never come across otherwise. As a music geek, this is the ultimate in AWESOME.

So back to the show. Naturally 7 is a group of 7 dudes from NYC, who have no backing band and are all singers. Technically speaking, they sing a cappella, but you would never know it just from hearing them. They each have this crazy ability to use their voices to sound like instruments. One dude "sings" the harmonica, one does bass, one does guitar, one does trombone (complete with arm movements) and one dude beatboxes as an ENTIRE DRUM KIT. It is INSANE. And to top it all off, they can all sing brilliantly. Beautifully! Or as one might say, these boys can SAAAAAAANGGGG.

This is a video from youtube that made them kinda famous... they are singing Phil Collins' "In the Air Tonight" on the Metro in Paris. It's nothing short of brilliant. Seriously, guys. Youtube the heck out of them... you won't be sorry.



They are such incredible performers... hearing them and watching them made me so happy. I was laughing, clapping, screaming and singing the whole night. When I left I felt so fulfilled and uplifted. I am so amazed and impressed that a group that I barely knew anything about was able to draw such an emotional response from me... that sort of thing is usually reserved for music that I have had an entire lifetime to build an emotional relationship with. It's such a great feeling to discover something like this!

Am I freaking you out? I'm just so gosh darn happy right now! And you can thank Naturally 7 for that. (Seriously. CHECK THEM OUT!)

One track mind.

Here I am, on day 2 of my media lounge duties... and I am REALLY BORED. There just aren't as many artists and cool dudes hanging around on Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons as there are on the weekends. Oh well. I know this for next year.


However, today I brought my computer with me. This has allowed me to conduct some very important research on a variety of topics. The most important, of course, being the subject of ketchup chips.





















I suddenly got an intense craving for these bad boys and could not stop thinking about them. So that led me to a Google search, which taught me that these are actually something of a regional delicacy. Apparently, they are not widely available in the US... and are considered to be a Canadian thing.

That's just crazy talk. How have those poor little creatures lived without the wonder that is ketchup chips??? They taste nothing like ketchup, but they turn your lips a divine shade of red that not even MAC could dare to duplicate.

They also turn your fingers bright red, which isn't really all that cool if you are over the age of 10... but if you were ever asked about why your fingers were so red, you could answer with something like, "Oh, that? I killed a guy. I scrubbed up really well, but it won't come off. DISS ON ME."


So yeah. Ketchup chips are awesome. And I still don't have any. BOOOOOO.

That is all.

Filtered, for great taste!

I'm lucky, I suppose, because I was given one of those brain filters which allows me to think things in my head and then decide whether or not to actually say them. People who don't have those seem to get themselves in a lot of trouble. But I often wonder what would happen if I didn't have one...

What they said: *random talk about things that I don't really give a crap about*

What I said: "Mmhmmm... okay... riiiiiight...sure... yeah, okay great."

What I THOUGHT: "Yeah, okay... do you want to talk about this before or after I punch you in the face? Either one is good for me. They would both be incredibly satisfying."

OH WELL. I guess we will never know...

Old.

I'm nearly 27... which I suppose isn't all that old, but I assure you that it certainly feels that way sometimes. Case in point, tonight.

Last night I did this super fun charity run thing, which was really awesome. I ended up not getting home until about midnight, which in my case is actually kind of late. I actually stayed up for a while and got into bed at about 2am. THAT IS CRAZY.

I slept in pretty late this morning and then went out all day. I got home at about 6. That is not late. That is early. So why in the heck did I feel like I was ready to go to bed??? At 6??? PM???? Because I am old.

I also effed up my shoulder somehow and now it really hurts. It is Saturday night and I am sitting at home, practically falling asleep in this here armchair with a heating pad on me. And this is where I shall stay. I am supposed to be at my friend's birthday party, but I am too tired and ouchy to convince myself to get all gussied up and drive downtown. Because I am old.

Am I a horrible person for bailing on my friends because I am tired? I don't know. However, one might argue that I would not be awesome company anyways because I would likely just be staring at a wall and saying "Whhhhaaaaaaaaaattttttt?" upon realizing that people are trying to talk to me. Also, I don't think you are supposed to drive when you can't really keep your eyes open. Right?

Yeah, I know. I suck.

Pride. (In the name of love for your teeth.)

I was visiting my parents a couple of weeks ago when my Dad came in and said something like, "Hey, kid. That's quite the blog you've got." and I was all, "Thanks, Dad... WAIT. DID YOU SAY BLOG? WHO TAUGHT YOU ABOUT THE INTERNET????"

Up until that point it had never occurred to me that my parents were even really aware of my blog, much less reading it. Which got me to thinking... would they be embarrassed by anything I have written here? You know, because of all the swearing and whatnot that goes on around here.

The answer is... no. I don't think they would be. Because let's be honest, what parent wouldn't be proud of a kid who writes about things like how she maybe possibly forgot to brush her teeth this morning and is trying to cover it up by drinking coffee and eating mints and then puts it on the Internet so everyone else will know? Which may or may not have happened to me this morning? Hypothetically speaking?

I guess the point is that had I remembered to brush my teeth like a normal, responsible 3 year old, I would still have that $5 bill in my wallet. (Hypothetically speaking.) Live and learn... in KINDERGARTEN.

PS: Hi Mom! Hi Dad! Look! You are on the internet! Good for you! Internet high five! (I will teach you that one later.)

What a way to start your day!

So I can't believe I nearly forgot to mention this crazy thing that happened to me this morning. One of my worst fears was realized. It was mildly terrifying.

I started taking vitamin supplements in an effort to try and ease my anxiety. I take these vitamin B Complex pills, and they are fricken' GIANT. It has always been hard for me to be able to swallow pills, so in order to take these behemoths I have to psyche myself up a bit first.

This morning, I am standing there with a mouthful of water and the giant pill in my mouth, mentally preparing to swallow the pill. Finally I tilted my head back and gulped the water down. But the pill got stuck sideways in my throat.

I panicked. I was gasping for air, trying to cough it out. I couldn't breathe. I coughed some more and finally it came back out.

IT WAS TERRIFYING. I was home all by myself, so while I was standing there, choking, I kept thinking, "Okay. If I can't cough this up, WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING TO DO? I AM GOING TO PASS OUT ON THE FLOOR AND NO ONE WILL KNOW THAT I AM HERE."

As of tomorrow morning, I am kicking it kiddie stylez and will be cutting up my vitamins into kid-sized bits so that I don't totally kill myself by trying to be healthy. FRICK.

I hear ya, cartoon version of Elvis Costello.

Remember that episode of the Simpsons when Homer was at rock camp? Remember when they broke Elvis Costello's glasses and his response to such cruelty was, "Oh no! My image!!!"

That is how I feel right now about my stinking passport photo. I hate that my picture does not have my glasses. I love my glasses. I am never NOT wearing my glasses. (Except for those few times in Vegas, but that was a bust. I hated not wearing them.)

I know that my passport pic is going to look awful no matter what I do because a) I think it is mandatory that everyone looks like a damn fool in their passport pic, and b) I am really not photogenic. At all. But I would really rather look like a fool with a pair of glasses on my face.

A lady that I work with got hers done at a place that had a variety of frames with no lenses in them so that people who wear glasses can still wear them in the photo. I think that is brilliant. So I am seriously considering hopping over to the dollar store to buy some cheap ass readers so I can pop the lenses out and get my photo re-taken. Is this crazy talk? Am I being a baby?

I am just remembering how I used to get hassled all the time for having a drivers licence photo that looked very different from how I looked in person... and it was really annoying. This is something I could develop anxiety over. Because I'm that attached to my glasses.

Also, it should be noted that my mom's friend Celeste totally got pissed off about a bad passport photo and totally paid to get new ones because she refused to show it to anyone. This makes sense to me. You are stuck with the damn thing for 5 years. Gah!

Effing vacations.

The message that was conveyed to customs officers by my old passport photo:

"Oh, hey guys! Look at me, being all youthful and travelling places. Aren't my glasses cute? Isn't this so fun? This is just the greatest. You just have yourselves a great day, alright? Awesome."

The message conveyed to customs officers by my new passport photo:

"First off, just let me tell you that I look WAY fucking cuter in my glasses. They are Chanel. CHANEL, I SAY! ANYWAYS... yeah I'm going on vacation. Whatever. I am really pale and splotchy. Also, I may appear to be a bit suicidal and generally mentally unbalanced. WATCH YO SELF."

Customs is going to be SO FUN for the next five years! Seriously, though. It is kind of bullshit that no one would let me take a passport photo with my glasses on. It is totally allowed!!!!!! Fuckers.

Ain't nobody eating vegetables up in here!

Holy crap. I just got back from an early Father's Day dinner with my family at Memphis Blues. There were 5 of us. We ate this:

















Whoa nellie! That is $66 worth of meaty goodness. And it is worth every penny. YUMMMMM.

Aaaaaaaand now I need a nap.

In other words, it's too hot out there.

The following was on a sign that was posted on the doors upstairs in my office:

"Heat deflection experiment in progress. Please keep doors closed."

Awesome. Because they could have just said "Keep the doors closed, yo."

Baguette!

Hoooooooooly crap. I am watching Flight of the Conchords on DVD at the moment and LOVING IT. I just watched this, and I laughed so hard I cried.




No joke. I seriously cried.

It kind of makes me want to say "Screw it!" to my not spending money plan and go see them in Seattle. We shall see...

Challenge!

In an effort to save a bit of cash-monies before I leave on my vacation(!!!) to San Francisco in July, I am taking on a challenge.

From now until I leave, I am going to try (TRY! SO HARD!) to not purchase food from anywhere other than the grocery store. This means coffee too. Eeek! This is tricky business. I don't eat out a lot or anything, but lately I have been spending more money than I normally do, and this seems like the logical area to save it. Is that crazy? Am I totally insane for fully committing to cook my own food for the next month and a bit? I think I can totally do it.

The other thing I think I can totally do, is not go shopping. At all. If it ain't at the grocery store, I don't need it. I probably won't even cheat by going to Superstore to buy pants.

This seems scary. What the heck am I going to do with all of my time if I am not buying things I don't need?

Confessions.

There are a couple of things I've been wanting to tell you for some time now, but I just didn't know how to say it... so I'm just going to say it:

When I am at work and I need to alphabetize things I sometimes have to run though the alphabet song in my head to figure shit out.

Also, I cannot do simple arithmetic in my head. I start to panic, and my mind goes blank. Numbers make me terribly nervous. Hence why I will ask you a thousand times to make sure I am tipping appropriately.

One more thing. Every once in awhile I catch myself watching reruns of 7th Heaven and other assorted religious programming. Mostly because despite the seriousness of the messages they are trying to convey, I find it super hilarious. Especially that anorexic looking lady who sits behind a news desk. I don't get it, but man do I love it.

I know this is a lot to take in, but I hope we can still be friends. Please?

PS: While I'm at it, I might as well tell you that I sort of think Phil Collins is awesome. Not that Disney balladry bullcrap, but the hardcore shit he used to do. You know... like Sussudio. Heck yes.

I think they have a pill for that.

Sometimes I really get on my own nerves. This is because I obsess over really REALLY stupid things that my brain will not let go of. Case in point: how I just spent a ridiculous amount of time on the internet trying to remember a song. All I could remember was what the video LOOKED like... and couldn't remember the actual song. I suddenly became convinced that it was Shakespears Sister (no, I didn't spell it wrong... they took out the e!). But it was not. It became all consuming and my brain was unable and unwilling to think about anything else until I figured it out. It was driving me CRAZY. CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But then I remembered:





Yes. I really spent 45 minutes looking for Swing Out Sister. Not because I love the song, but because I NEEDED to remember.

I got problems, y'all.

YUMMMMM!

I don't really understand why eating sweets is sometimes seen as a bad thing... because they taste SO GOOD. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that they are like, bad for you or something?? Meh.

Hence why I was so excited when I got to Brie's house yesterday and saw an entire table filled with sugary goodness. AND I was openly encouraged to EAT MY FACE OFF. And I did.

So what if I was awake all night! If was friggin worth it. I LOVE CUPCAKES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think some if it might still be in my system. I'm trying to calm down. Yay!

Awwww yeah.

Darling, you have made me so happy today. Thank you for dumping that completely random waitress. It's time for you to move on. To me! A completely random unpaid blogger.

*sigh*

Seriously though. If you took me to the Oscars and were all, "Pick one of these Valentino gowns to wear. I love you more than anything in the whole wide world. Want to procreate?" I would TOTALLY NOT PICK THE ONE THAT LOOKS LIKE A SOFA. This is my solemn promise to you.

I should probably invest in some black eyeliner.

Last night standing outside GM Place after the Cure concert discussing The Cure vs. The Smiths:

Erin: "So what about Morrissey? Did he die? Is he still alive?"

Me: "Yeah, he's still around. He's always pretty close [to dying] though. He's very sad."

Man, those dudes were emo before emo was emo.

I don't love cats, but I love Love Cats.

Tonight I shall see The Cure! WOOOOOOOT. I bought these tickets like a friggin year ago. I kept forgetting about it, so when I realized the show was tonight I was pretty happy about it. Yay!

In other news, I just wanted to tell you that I kind of hate the automatic spellcheck in Outlook. Every day it makes me a little more annoyed. I wish there was some sort of way to tell it how I feel. You know, some way to express this:

"NO, YOU JERK! FOR THE 1000th TIME, I DO NOT MEAN BOG! WHY WOULD I TELL SOMEONE TO READ MY BOG! I AM NOT A BOGGER! THAT DOES NOT EVEN MAKE SENSE! I SHOULD KNOW, I WENT TO COLLEGE. FOR FIVE YEARS!"

Or you know, something like that.

I would also like to tell it that maybe it is right. Maybe when I say "HAHAHAHA!" I really DO mean "HASHANAH!".

Idiot computer.

The best day EVAR.

Sometimes you just have crazy days. And they start out so simply... that you have no idea what it will snowball into. In my case it started out with a coffee. I got to work yesterday morning and was thinking about how I was going to need to make a trip to Starbucks when lo and behold, there was already a coffee sitting on my desk. Jackpot! My boss totally bought me a coffee. Awesome.

Then I went for a nice walk with Amanda at lunch and still had time to manage my workload. At 5:00 I got a call from downstairs asking me if I wanted free REM tickets. HECK YES, I did! I ran downstairs, grabbed the tickets and ran back upstairs to pack up my crap and leave work. Then Brie called me to ask if I wanted to go to the meet and greet with Heather B. Armstrong, aka Dooce! HECK YES, I DID!

So there I am, waiting for Brie to come pick me up near a parking lot behind the Cactus Club when someone comes out of the back of the restaurant. It was Rob Feenie! Right away I called Lydia because I know she would geek out about it. I was right. It was pretty hilarious. He came out again right when Brie got there and he drove down the street behind us. So crazy!

Now onto the REALLY exciting part. The meet n' greet was conveniently located in a bar so that allowes us to calm our nerves with beer. Mmmmm, beer. We met a cool girl named Tara in the lineup who was all by herself, so we chatted with her while we waited in the lineup. (It should also be noted that there were cute nerd boys there. I think I need to start going to more of these things!) When it was our turn Jon called us over and we shook hands. Seriously, guys. Jon and Heather are so friggin COOL. They are super sweet and super friendly.

I just kind of started talking and wasn't really nervous anymore... and I made them laugh. I, Sarah of this humble little blog with 4 readers made the blog superpowers laugh. I feel validated. Jon was nice enough to volunteer to take our picture so we could have a pic of both of us with Heather. Here it is:

We are cute! Heather is insanely tall and was wearing these amazing super hot heels. Maybe one day I can wear heels too? No. I cannot.

After we left I hopped on the train and ventured out to Deer Lake Park to see REM. I got there right when they started playing and managed to find Lydia so that was handy! It was pretty awesome, though I kind of wish they had played more old songs... because I like to sing. Out loud. Obnoxiously. And they weren't feeding that enough. But I like them anyways.

THEN... after the concert we went to see the Indiana Jones movie. I don't know how I didn't fall asleep during it, because at that point it was 11:00pm and I had already had a pretty freaking full day. I ate dinner at 11pm thanks to Taco Bell (I know, I know.). The movie was pretty entertaining, but I did have a few gripes about it. First off there is waaaaaay too much CGI in this movie for my liking. The other Indy movies had just as much action without being so fakey looking. I wish they had kept that going. The other thing was ummm... well, a major plot point, actually. This Crystal Skull business. Come ON, George Lucas! Aliens? Really? Had they just made it about some crazy generic non-alien artifact in the Amazon it would have worked better. Meh. Aliens. Stupid. I do have to say that Harrison Ford has aged REALLY well. Dude looks good for being so old! I can only hope I have that kind of luck.

So then I ended up getting to bed sometime around 2am and was slightly exhausted. The good thing is that since I packed so much friggin action into one day, I don't have to do a damn thing for the rest of the weekend and it won't be a waste. I rule!

Note to self...but not really.

This is a post it note which is stuck to my computer monitor at work.
























He haunts me in my dreams. Just like Aaron Neville. I think it's some sort of conspiracy. A conspiracy of HARDCORE SUCKING AT MUSIC.

How odd.

So, I forgot to mention something crazy that happened on the weekend. I got a new cell phone!

I KNOW. CRAZY, RIGHT????

It has a camera... and an mp3 player... and is all kinds of fancy. It is pink.

Naturally, after 5 years of oppression with my stupid old phone I was WAY excited about all these fancy new options I had available to me. Like ringtones. YAY!

So I was browsing around looking for a ringtone and before settling on the opening guitar riff of "Layla" (Seriously. How rad am I?) I came across a choice that I found to be a little strange. If I ever heard someone using this as a ringtone I think I would fall over. Due to the combination of explosive laughter and shock.

Steely Dan? Dirty Work? WTF?

Can you imagine? You are out in public and lets say you are chatting someone up. Things are going well... until your phone rings.

"I'm a fooool to dooo your Dirty Work... whoa whoaaaaaaaaa..."

Hey, guess what! Now you don't have friends anymore.



On second thought, I think my Dad would probably think that was a pretty sweet ringtone. But that just kind of solidifies my point, doesn't it?

I am le tired.

Man alive. Weekends are not meant to leave you more tired than you were when you started them! But it's okay, because I had a lot of fun getting this tired.

My uncle got married on Sunday... and it was a million times more fun than I expected it to be. Drinking, dancing and looking really good takes a lot out of a kid. Also, I now have photographic evidence of my dad wearing a tux. He has since been instructed by my mother to purchase a suit, because he looked so nice. (And badass. Because he hates looking "nice".) Motorcycle dudes just do not like suits.

Also amusing was my Dad's friend Terry who had a brand new suit picked out for him by his girlfriend Celeste. With the grey suit she picked out a lilac coloured shirt and matching tie. The following was a discussion regarding his ensemble:

Me: "I like your purple shirt. I think it's cool. What would you call that colour? Lavender?"

Terry: "I call it a lovely shade of GAY."

Me: "BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Celeste: "Shut up, Terry. It's Lilac."

Terry: "Whatever. I'd rather be wearing black leather. It's much more manly."

Me: "Wha??? Since when is a purple shirt gayer than head to toe black leather? BLACK LEATHER???????"

*The entire table laughs*

Terry: "Point taken."

There are not many things more entertaining than drinking with family. Unless you include dancing in the equation, which is how it always should be when any sort of drinking is involved.

Yay for long weekends!

Sarah is...

full of coffee and dreaming about beer. What a magical combination.

This is what I will probably change my Facebook status to in awhile. It is 11am. I have been thinking about the beer since about 9. Oh, glorious Friday!

My little black heart.

FACT: I had to get outside help when faced with the task of writing something in a sympathy card because I am severely awkward when it comes to talking to people who are going through emotional situations.

I am usually that person who makes jokes when everyone else is crying because I panic and I feel humour is my only resource. Either that or I just avoid talking about it altogether. I'm good like that.

So when it came time to write something in the card I couldn't think of anything, so I did something really weird. I did a Google search about what to write in sympathy cards so I could steal a sentiment.

I'm going to heck, aren't I?

I didn't end up using anything from my Google search because they all said things about praying... which is something I don't do. I may be a word thief, but I draw the line at lying in a sentiment. So I emailed someone I know who is pretty good at knowing the right thing to say. And then I wrote what he told me to write and added a little bit more of my own.

This makes me sound like a horrible person... but I really just didn't want to risk sounding awkward and insincere. Which is ironic, because one could argue that stolen words are insincere. But I really did mean them. I just had a little trouble putting it together.

There's hope for me yet!

So professional.

Email from me to a coworker after hearing about MORE of his vacation plans:


"Are you seriously going to Antigua in June? WTF? Did you win the lottery? If so, I've been meaning to mention something about how nice your hair has been looking lately. If not, go suck an egg. "


I mean, COME ON. Who goes to Hawaii AND Antigua within 2 months? Okay, fine... besides Jay-Z and Beyonce?

I hate my life.

The Master(piece) Plan

File this one under "Best Idea EVER #674".

So there's this EBay charity auction where you can bid on doodles done by quasi-famous people. I was interested in seeing what kind of weird crap these people would draw when asked to submit a doodle, so I went on over to the auction to check it out... which is when I found the best thing EVER.

One of the items you can bid on is a commissioned piece of art. A piece of art made by an artist named Sarah Robinson. Can you guess where I'm going with this?

If you said "Bid on this thing, win it, and commission a portrait of Woody Allen to hang on your living room wall." you would be correct. However, you left out one important detail. The correct answer is:

"Bid on this thing, win it, and commission a portrait of Woody Allen to hang on your living room wall. Then proceed to show it off to everyone that comes over and tell them you drew it yourself."

HOW BRILLIANT IS THAT??? If anyone were to challenge me on my artistic skills, I would just have to politely point out that it is indeed signed by one Sarah Robinson... which is me. (But is not REALLY me.) It's like lying and telling the truth all at the same time.

This is going to be so awesome.

Chicken and Pears? That's... crazy. It's just crazy.

I fully understand that my Christopher Walken impression does not translate well into text. But there it is, all the same. I found this awesome video of him cooking a chicken on the internet. It's kind of the best thing ever, because it proves that he really is just like the rest of us. He puts his pants on one leg at a time... the difference, of course, being that once those pants are on he makes golden delicious chickens.




I love this man. I really do.

Do you automatically get street cred from hanging out with David Bowie?

I was vaguely aware that Scarlet Johansson was putting out an album. What I was not aware of is that it is a Tom Waits cover album. (????????)

She is so weird.

ANYWAYS... David Bowie sings backup vocals (backup vocals???) on a few of the songs, and the whole darn thing was produced by David Andrew Sitek of TV on the Radio. All of these factors kind of make me want to like it. Because I like all of these things.

Listen to it here. What do you think?

*pausing while you listen*

Okay. Seriously. Does she kind of sound like a man? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I'm so confused. I can totally hear the TV on the Radio influence there which I enjoy... but I'm just not sure that I like her voice. Though I must say that if she sounded like Tom Waits I would be more than a little concerned for the girl.

Le sigh.

Emergency muffins, E-schmergency muffins!

I am a little creeped out by food that seems unnatural or is "brand new". Like when you are in the produce market and there is a sign that says "NEW! Pygmy Asparagus from Taiwan!"
That shit is freaky. There is some weird sort of sciencey business going on there. While I loves me some science, I don't know if I want to eat it.


Hence why I am so unwilling to embrace this new discovery, which comes to us courtesy of Angus:

















What is this, you ask? It looks like but a harmless cereal bar! (A concept which also took me awhile to get used to, btw.) No. It is not made of cereal. Apparently, this is some kind of crazy newfangled muffin!

WTF? Muffins are not muffins unless they are shaped like friggin muffins. That's like, the whole point of a muffin. You have your muffin TOP and your muffin BOTTOM. This muffin bar thing has no top nor bottom! It is a muffiny log. It freaks me out.

I tried one. It was weird. It has a muffin-like texture and muffin-like flavour... but it somehow does not taste muffiny. Not to mention the fact that there must be some really freaky preservatives in there to keep it from getting mouldy like regular baked goods are wont to do.

I am generally uncomfortable with the concept as a whole. It is NOT a muffin. Hence why I decided to call them "Emergency Muffins". Because I would only eat this in an emergency where I would not have access to a real muffin. If you should happen to come across one of these freakish bars, give it a try and let me know what you think. I wonder if anyone else will be as creeped out by these as I am... probably not. I'm kind of irrational about things like this.


PS: I don't think pygmy asparagus is real. I totally made it up. I checked google in case, but it really isn't there. Sorry if I got your hopes up, re: tiny asparagus.

Barackin' the vote.

I would not normally be so willing to pimp for a national newspaper such as the National Post, but this is not an ordinary circumstance. First off, the article was written by the wonderful Jian Ghomeshi, who I think is pretty awesome and was completely unaware that he is now working for "the man". It's okay though. As long as he keeps coming up with fricken sweet titles like this for his articles, I'll keep reading them:

He's got 99 problems, but the youth vote ain't one.

The article is about a moment on the campaign trail with Barack Obama that has turned into a little bit of a phenomenon. There is already something about it on wikipedia. It's kind of fantastic that he has stuck a chord with the young voters. It's been a long damn time since anyone even pretended to care about them. Check out the clip!



I certainly NEVER thought I would see the day when Jay-Z gets repped in a campaign speech. I love it!

The zing of the day!

Said by me, to my computer screen with severely angry eyes and and a growly, menacing tone in my voice in response to an email I received:

"You stupid, STUPID LITTLE MAN! I'm going to squeeze your stupid little head until it explodes and your stupid little brain goes flying everywhere in a million little pieces. Then I will make your family members clean it up. JERK!"

I think this really showcases my evilness wonderfully. I really went the extra mile by including the family.

I love how I can get away with saying horrible things like that and people think it's funny. It's a talent, I suppose.

Ooooooh, bop. Fashion.

This morning I had a real time of it trying to get out of the house. I could not figure out what to wear. As a result there is a giant pile of clothes on my bed and a giant pile of clothes on the floor. I'm probably not going to clean that up right away.

ANYWAYS... in my fit of "I hate everything I own." I pulled out a pair of pants that I haven't worn in forever. They are actually kind of cute. So I threw them on with some basics and decided that was good enough. I had to change my shoes when I looked out the window because it looked like it was about to rain like crazy. Then I finally left for work.

On the way to work all I could think about the ENTIRE TIME was how horrible my outfit was. I kept thinking about the pants and why I never wear them... then I remembered. These fuckers don't have any pockets on the side. I HATE THAT!!! I NEED THE POCKETS ON THE SIDE. They would be amazing pants if they just had frigging pockets. But they do not. And now I think I look like an idiot.

Then I got to thinking about my shoes. I tend to wear them when it is raining. Most of the time they look alright. Today however, they do not. I was sitting on the bus staring at my feet when I realized what the problem with my shoes was. THEY LOOK LIKE ORTHOPEDICS. What the hell? Why do I wear them? UGH.

By the time I got to work I was all in a snit about my wardrobe disaster and feeling slightly grumpy. As soon as I walked in the door, one of my favourite office peeps saw me and yelled out,
"SARAH!!! I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN FOREVER!!!" and scooped me up into the biggest and bestest bear hug ever, complete with the nuzzle on the top of the head.

Suddenly I didn't feel like I looked as bad as I thought I did. Why worry about these things? They are just pants. I think I would rather be wearing stupid pants and get a wicked awesome hug instead of wearing nice pants and no hugs. I am the winner!

A real catch.

I've just uncovered a hidden talent. I am fricking AWESOME at making these:






















Those would be vegan peanut butter cupcakes with chocolate ganache frosting. I KNOW, RIGHT????? (Note: I stole this picture from the interweb, so these are not actually MY cupcakes. Mine are BETTER. Because I covered the entire top with frosting.)

I can't even really tell you how friggin delicious these are. I'm just going to let you dream about how good they must taste. I think this may be my most marketable asset. I'm going to have to start advertising this to boys. (Ahem, GEORGE. You could have these EVERY DAY, baby.)

Attention to detail.

Last nigh Tracy came over for a visit. We decided to rent a movie and cook dinner, cause it's fun. (I forgot that it was Thursday, and as a result missed 30 Rock, The Office, Grey's and whatever other show is back on. Ugly Betty? I don't know. DISS.)

So ANYWAYS, we went to the video store and were pretty excited about watching Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story. We got home, cooked dinner, ate dinner... and when Tracy went to put the movie in she looked at the case with a puzzled look on her face.

"What the? We did NOT rent this movie... NO..."

What we rented was not Walk Hard. What we rented was Wrong Turn 2: Dead End. It is a fantastic high budget thriller about reality show contestants being killed by a family of inbred cannibals. High quality, indeed.

After laughing about it for a good solid 20 mins we found ourselves back at the video store explaining to the clerk that while we appreciate fine cinema such as this, it really wasn't what we were looking for. Good times indeed.

On a side note, Walk Hard was pretty friggin funny. I nearly cried during the Beatles scene. Paul Rudd is the shizz.

Alternative ways to express your indifference about other people's awesome vacations.

Let me start off by explaining to you that I never go on vacation. This is not because I have anything against vacations. In fact, I kind of dig them. I would go so far as to say that they are awesome. It is mostly because I can't afford them. Working for peanuts does not make it easy to afford things... unless you work in the zoo and are buddies with the elephants who can hook you up with all kinds of shit on the cheap. (Peanuts are the currency of choice in the zoo.)

ANYWAYS, due to my lack of vacationing I am always a little bitter when I have to hear people talk about their awesome vacations. I have a standard reply for these occasions. It's kind of a one-size-fits-all reply. It works for everything! Or so I thought. Here are some examples:

(Last year) Angus: "I'm going to Mexico!"
Me: "Mexico, Schmexico!"

(A week ago) Craig: "I'm going to Vegas!"
Me: "Vegas, Schmegas!"

(Last year) Lydia: "I'm going to Europe!"
Me: "Europe, Schmurope!"

However, today I ran into a problem.

Angus: "I'm going to Hawaii!"
Me: "Hawaii, schm - oh shit! That doesn't work!"

What the hell am I supposed to say about Hawaii??? If you are aware of any really sucky things about Hawaii, please share them with me so that I may bring something to the table. It would be helpful if some sort of rhyme was involved.

For now, I guess I am going to have to go with "Hawaii? Meh. You haven't lived until you've been to the majestic farming communities of Northern Idaho."

Earth Day!

I feel like a jerk because it is Earth Day and I have spent the entire day in the office in front of this energy sucking computer.

I am sorry, Dr. Suzuki. I'm not going to lie to you.

After work I fully intend to drive my fuel efficient car to the grocery store so that I may purchase foods that were shipped in from California. Then I will take those foods and prepare them on my electric stove top, thereby sucking up more energy. I'm also going to watch television. But I'll totally turn the lights off when I do that last one. Also, I took out the recycling this morning, and bought a new Sigg water bottle. Plus I am going to reduce carbon emissions for 10 seconds by holding my breath.

Are we still cool? I hope so. I love you.

Born to Run...walk...run...walk...run.

To give you an idea of how the Sun Run went today, I will share with you what my horoscope said today (though I didn't read it before I left, so this is funny):

Dear Sarah,
Here is your horoscope for Sunday, April 20:

You need to slow down and let your instinct guide you more than ever. They aren't infallible, of course, but they should steer you clear of one or two sketchy situations that won't work out.

Ummmm... YEAH. Translated literally, that means, "When you feel that sharp pain in your side and if feels like you are being stabbed in the abdomen, stop and walk for little while." Which is pretty much how THAT went. But this is what I expected, since I did so little training. But I finished it, and managed to run more than half of the race! Woohoo!

Aaaaaannnnnnnddddd now I hurt. Man is that Robaxacet going to feel good later.

It's the freakin' weekend, baby... meh.

So you know how most of the time when Friday comes along you are all, "Wooooo! It's Friday! Woooo! It's the weekend!"? Today I am not like that. The thought of what is due to happen upon me finishing work today is making me feel ill. And I mean ill as in sick... and I mean sick as in the throw up way, not the "Dude, that's sick!" way.

The Sun Run is on Sunday... and I am completely not enthused about it. It is like I held a brainstorming session about what I could subject myself to that would make me feel completely miserable... and this was the big winner. BARF. I am going for a training run in about 30 mins with some ladies from work... and while I enjoy their company greatly, I do not enjoy this running business anymore. NOT. AT. ALL.

Ugh. I do enjoy the fact that upon reaching 4:30pm this afternoon it means I do not have to work for the next 2 days... but overall I am still not looking forward to it. Allow me to use a metaphor to further illustrate this point:

It is like someone just gave me $20 for no reason, and I'm all "SWEEEET!"... and then they hit me in the face with a giant piece of lumber and now I'm all "Well, THAT sucked."

Yes. It is just like that.

***UPDATE***

It was not so bad running after work. It was kind of nice. I am a big baby. Also, I just looked out my window and there is some major blizzard action going on out there. WTF? This shit is crazy! Only David Suzuki can save us now...

I should write this on my hand.

I drove to work today because I had to go somewhere before work and I decided it would be easier and faster to just drive straight to work. This is not something I regularly do. I'm a bus/walk kind of girl. I am also very forgetful.

So basically what I am getting at, is that the fear that I will accidentally forget my car in the parking garage across the street and take the bus home is a valid one. There have been 4 occasions already when I have been thinking about which bus I am going to take home, and then suddenly think, "OMG, I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT MY CAR!"

I should probably get some memory improving flash cards or something, huh?

Look out, world!

Everything is about to change. EVERYTHING. And all because of one truly excellent decision I made yesterday in the midst of a fit of excitement.

Remember how a really long time ago I wrote about my deep desire to own a pair of Chanel glasses?


THAT IS NO LONGER A DREAM, MY FRIENDS!

That's right. I did it. Yesterday, upon learning that my ever so stylish lil' sister had thrown down $400 for a pair of Dior glasses, I decided it was my time. After searching all over Metrotown and trying on a million pairs I finally found them. I found the glasses that will change my life.













Well, hello there. Aren't you fabulous!

I'm going to pick them up sometime this week. I can't WAIT! I will probably get a promotion right after I walk in the door wearing these lovelies. How could I not? I will look so official and powerful. It is going to be awesome.

Don't say I did a cool job!

I friggin' love the internet.

Trouble is brewing... courtesy of Starbucks.

Being that I am a little tired this morning, I decided to buy myself a coffee this morning. So the dude is making my Americano Misto and he looks up and asks me the craziest question ever:

"Do you want an extra shot with that?"

The only thought that runs through my head at this point is "IT'S FREEEEEEEE!"

So I said yes. And now my head will probably explode before I even get to the bottom of the cup. WHAT WAS I THINKING???

















That is 2 cups. In one drink. It's INSANE.


I'm so going to get the caffeine shakes. And the crazy eyes. (I've got hydrogen psychosis!)

Gimme Gimme Gimme!

I am pretty sure that it is my civic duty to share this with you. I'm not putting the video up right here because I want to keep you in suspense for as long as possible. Just trust me when I say it is worth watching.

And no, I will not apologize for getting this song stuck in your head. It will probably be in there for the next 4 - 7 days... and you will love every minute of it.

Speaking of songs that get stuck in your head... I am going to see Mamma Mia tonight! It is going to be pretty fantastic. I hope my theatre buddies enjoy hearing the sweet sounds of my singing voice, cause once it starts I am unlikely to shut up. This is the one time when knowing all the words to ABBA songs is going to make me seem cool. (I know what you are thinking. "THE ONE TIME???" I know. I agree. Knowing the words to ABBA songs makes you seem cool ALL THE GODDAMN TIME.)

Rock the vote?

Oh, lord.














Apparently Heidi from The Hills is endorsing John McCain in the upcoming election. When I read that, I thought to myself, "OF COURSE! OF COURSE SHE IS A REPUBLICAN!" It all makes sense now.

What does not make sense, however, is that when McCain found out about the endorsement he was all, "Girl, I LOOOOOOOOVE The Hills! I never miss an episode! Heidi is #1!"

Great. Like I needed ANOTHER reason to feel bad about watching this show. I'll feel so dirty watching it and knowing that John McCain is sitting in a hotel room somewhere watching the same thing as me.

Apparently he did not get the memo about how when you are a 71 year old man saying that you watch The Hills makes you sound more "pervy" than "cool". Ew. Ew, ew, EW!

Weekend TV is the best.

Well, this is embarrassing. But I need to talk about it. It is the only way to figure this out.

I need some sort of explanation as to why the hell I am watching a Dateline special about Britney Spears.

I'm just gonna go right ahead and blame society for this one.

You can't start a fire without a spark.

<--- He is totally a spark! Dude shows up and suddenly everyone is all "Sweet Jesus, everything is on fire!" Seriously. On fire. Always.




Awwww yeah.

I don't know if there is really even much point in me telling you how friggin amazing this show was. Even if I rambled on about it for hours I still don't think you could possibly understand how great it was.

I was SO excited when I got there... and even MORE so when I saw where my seats were! I was 4th row right beside the stage... but since the section I was in didn't actually have a row 1, technically it was 3 rows up. So there. ANYWAYS... it was incredible. Bruce was like, 10 feet away from me on more than one occasion. The first time it happened I squealed like a total girl (as I am one...) and I think my mind exploded. He's just that friggin cool. Proof of that extreme level of coolness is that he is nearly 60 years old and the sight of him twirling around the mic stand with stripper moves did not creep me out at all. In fact, it was kind of the hotness. I am not ashamed to say that.

There's just something about screaming "Born to Run" at the top of your lungs with several thousand others that makes my heart smile. I only wish I could do it every day. (Also fun: yelling "BRUUUUUUUUUUUCE!" Go ahead, try it.)

*sigh* I just love him to bits. Totally made it into my top 5!

PS: I feel obligated to mention my minor celebrity sighting. I spotted Hayden Panettiere from Heroes on the floor in front at the end of the show. She has magical celebrity hair that curls oh-so-perfectly. I don't think she knew the words she was trying to sing along to, though. I don't judge. (As if I've never done that.)