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Oh look, I have to pee again!

I think I drink 2 large coffees a day just so that I'll have an excuse to go pee later and not have to study.

I appreciate how irrational this is but desperate times call for desperate measures!

You know, I'd love to be able to study philosophy 3 days straight and not start looking for any excuse to procrastinate....but when I'm hungry, which is just a thing that I always am, I'm not going to walk to the UC with shoe laces that aren't tied up perfectly. Nor am I going to start taking notes when I have three facebook notifications. They're only going to be distraction!

I've also noticed that exam time is when the studious by-semester kids stay home and drink and the slacker by-semester kids spend countless hours, in the library, trying to figure out where their lives went wrong.

I'm one of those slacker kids who more or less knows that the next 2 days in the library is going to be the only time I will ever actually get anything out of my textbook...so I better make sure the bobby pins and 12 packs of sugar I took from Mack's are lined up perfectly or else I'll never get anything done!

Signing out from my post on the 1st floor.......see you on the other side of bullshitosophy!

Man against Machine Episode 3: Before the end of Time!

Oh dear god, I have ten minutes to post this blog!

9 minutes now.

I can't think of anything to talk about....other than this epic battle of man against time!

If the world was going to end in 10 minutes I would have the following things to say:

1. I love you all

2. After you guys I love the show Community

3. After that, I would want to talk about how friggen weird Community is starting to get. Not in a bad way but just in a it's kind of been mirroring my actions a lot lately kind of way.

4. Oh well, c'est le vie!

which brings me to my fifth and final thing

5. We've all done stuff in our lives that we regret but then we all also experience those moments when we know that that's OK. You're not always going to be happy but if you understand that it's all just apart of life then you'll stop battling time and learn to dance to whatever music is playing.

(4 minutes left until the end and I can't help but think that the Bob Dylan playing somewhere in the background is eerily appropriate)

2 minutes....

1 minute....

Man against Machine Episode 2: The Matrix

As requested this installment of Man against Machine will be about Krista's struggle to comment on my blog.

You know, it's no easy feat to comment on one of these things. It takes more than just writing out what you want to say and then clicking "submit". You need a google account with a unique username and password, access to an email you don't mind getting spammed every now and then with blogger related nonsense and good eye sight.

Good eyesight, you say? By that I mean the ability to effectively decipher one of these symbol decoder authentication things that websites set up so you can prove you're not a robot.

Not that anyone who would be using a robot to stream movies online or comment on amateur blogs wouldn't also have built the technology, within the robot, to decipher that code like a human.

So next time you want to say something on my blog think about how deeply you're willing to get involved, here in the infinitely wonderful cyberspace. Because once you're in, you're in. There's no going back; the internet will own your soul, have access to all your fake email addresses (or real ones), harass you daily and make you decode countless of those things (up there!) until you snap or get old and forget how to log on to your computer.

Man against Machine Episode 1: DW gets wet!

I'm lazy by nature which means that if there's a dirty glass, and I'm setting the table for Thanksgiving dinner, the chances are I'll put the glass out anyway, my logic being that at least I won't have to deal with it during the meal.

Except that 8 out of 10 times I'll be the one who sits down at the dirty glass seat and has to crawl over everyone to clean it up. So why not fix the problem at the source? 

Well, it would take more than just telling me "Wash that glass!". In fact, it would probably take extensive psychotherapy just to come up with a legitimate cause for my laziness and then, similarly, extensive social therapy to cure my problem, on a day-to-day basis. The kind of effort commonly seen in people with "spunk".

That glass, in my opinion, is happier dirty and therefore I am happier leaving it dirty until such time as it makes my beverage look like bottled mud puddle. 

Wait a minute....maybe the bigger question here is why are the dishes in my house so dirty to begin with?

God damn dishwasher and its manufactured laziness! What's worse, really? Being inherently lazy or being programmed to perform a very specific function and still do it wrong?

Yeah, my thoughts exactly.

So next time I load a bunch of dishes into your belly, DW, do the task properly. So that later on I don't look like a jackass, elbowing my grandmother in the ear as I fight my way through human limbs (some turkey too, I guess), gravy boats and vegetable dishes!

And you know what? Now that I've started a rivalry with the dishwasher the theme of this weeks blog posts will be "Man against Machine".

La la la la blah

I have to stop living in this fantasy world where my imagination is boss. Because things are starting to get out of hand and I'm deluding myself into thinking that happiness is possible. And wait, before you get all up in my grill and say something like "but you're happiness IS possible", hear me out. Certain elements of happiness are out there; in fact, they're already happening to me like great friendships and a cool university degree but what about all the restlessness and uncertainty that I'm feeling? What about the fact that the school I go to makes me feel claustrophobic or that, in one fateful moment, my chances with...well...that situation...went down the drain? I'm not one who likes to live in regret but I can't help but think that I'm falling into a bad pattern of doing things at full throttle and with my eyes closed. The world is out there, Rebecca, and all this is real. I can't keep thinking that if I think certain ways it must mean that everyone else is too. People are so inherently different from each other, a lesson I'm learning a bit too late. I mean, people's reactions to my actions can't ever mirror my own reactions to myself, can they? 

Does that even make sense? 

I guess what I'm saying is that I need a change. I need to get out there and see what the world has to offer. Because aside from those that I know love me and vice versa, there isn't enough energy left in me to care about a damn thing. What's the point in all the waiting and the game playing and the timing and all this nonsense when nothing's going to change unless I do something about it? Which is why I either need to pack up and go and just scream out to the world that I'm unsatisfied with it.

Pack up and go? Where? Somewhere warm, somewhere where I can wear pretty dresses and my sandals or heels if I'm feeling sexy, somewhere with fresh faces and new smells.

And if that doesn't happen then what good will screaming out my dissatisfaction do? Probably not a lot but enough that I'll feel, if only for a moment, a little relief. 

I'm too young to feel like this is it and yet I know that I have years before me in which I will be in this state of uncertainty. That's just the price we pay for being young and having no experiences with life, or real life. This world I'm in of school and class and participation in discussions and drinking, smoking, sleeping in and staying up...it's all going to go away soon and I'll find reality and, oddly enough, probably like it more.

Not to say that I don't like drinking and swearing and all that fun stuff but there's no certainty right now. However, there's every bit of expectation from every angle that I have my life together. And, mark my words, I don't.

There's no accountability when you're young and, for crying out loud, I'm getting sick of that! 

Time to grow up? Yeah, maybe. Or at least time to move on from this game and become a woman of action! I'm scared because I can see her, just out of reach, slowly falling into darkness at the hands of my impatient and restless inaction.

Sorry for the bummer post but I think that I needed to remind myself of what's important and hopefully, if you're reading this, you'll understand that this is more urgent than it is depressing. 

I'm a perfectly content person, with myself (how I look, how I behave, who I talk to and what I believe in) so I'm not depressed...I'm just lost. I'm just in need of a little direction.

La-La Land isn't so much fun anymore.

I didn't not spell "facebook" wrong, Facebook!

Facebook is, like, the social phenomenon of the 21st Century, right?

Right.

So why is that when you type the word "facebook" onto Facebook it gets one of those you spelt this wrong, red lines underneath it?

I wish that Facebook would change that; it's so friggen annoying.

Bitch, get to know me

If I had a dollar for every time I was a hypocrite (in class) I would be rich.

How rich?

Rich like I'm always a hypocrite in class.

I have beef with people who go to class all the time but never pay attention. Yet, I'm so guilty of doing it.

Like here I am, in this bloody philosophy lecture, not paying attention. This is what happened last time I went to this class, this is what happens when I'm in any class that bores me (all of them except playwrighting and tech) so why do I do it? Why do I come here?

Probably because I'm expected to.

But, I've taken this shit to a whole new level. Fuck man, I'm blogging about how I'm not paying attention.

Shit.

Peace, I'm gonna go wish I was listening to Childish Gambino. Thanks Lo-Fo!

Maturing....

I haven't posted in a billion and a half years so here I am...hoping that I can come up with something interesting to say.

Probably not though, because my brain's working at about ten paces slower than the rest of my body. If I manage to get out of bed at a decent hour my brain is usually still two or three hours behind.

It has to do with the whole squeezing a weeks worth (if not more) of New York City sightseeing into three days thing. It probably also has to do with the VIP status and bottle service we got, to the club tenjune, while in NYC. And it definitely has to do with the 16 hours of running around to the 6 hours of sleep we got....

But I'm not complaining.

I'm just aware of the fact that, if you want to stay sane, you can't EVER do New York in three days.

"You must be crazy or just plain stupid!"
"Stupid is as stupid does..."

New York is one of those places that needs to be lived in or experienced through the eyes of a kid with ADHD.

That place is a blinking, shinning, twirling, speeding, popping, swirling sensory overload and when I go back (to live?) I plan on moving much more ssssssllllooooooowwwwwllyyyy....

Or else...I'll explode.

But I learned something great while there: one nice kid from the Bronx can shatter a whole lot of ignorant illusions I ever had about the dirty, grimy streets of Manhattan.

Like a gem in a puddle of mud or a shinning star in a dark night sky, Alvin from the Bronx was the uplift I needed on that horrible, horrible day.

His presence and momentary friendship gave me a sense of hope that there are truly decent people in this world and that you don't need to look far to find them. When you're 18 and you choose to spend an hour talking to a girl from Toronto (making her feel better as she almost vomits on you for asking "what on earth did you drink?") instead of out screwing around......that makes you a star.

God, my first bitter taste of...what? I'm not sure how to put it......

Well, we all rely on facebook as a way to keep in touch with the people you meet, but when I didn't exchange full names with Alvin and then went away (never to see him again) it dawned on me how significant our meeting really was.

I know I'll ever see him again but that's a bittersweet realization I've come to accept. I'll always remember him, for hist truly admirable character, and that's almost better than any correspondence we might have had over facebook.

No, I'm not in love with him.

But wouldn't it be so An Affair to Remember -ish, if I was?

In other news: out with the old, in with the new! D-Starr Beats, make way for something better......

Reading Archie Comics is like getting broken up with, then engaged and then broken up with again all in about 5 minutes....

I'm an Archie Comics fan and always have been but that doesn't make me any less sensitive to the roller-coaster like and often brutal emotions that the characters go through.

Archie's been around since the 40s and the same formula has been used ever since: boy plays a game of relationship tug-of-war between two beautiful girls, while battling egos with a cocky friend. It's simple, it's nice and sometimes the punch line is actually funny....but a recent reading of a Cheryl Blossom strip has got me thinking:

You know, after all, Veronica Lodge really is a bitch.

See, what happens is Cheryl tries to formulate a perfume that matches her personality and, after finally perfecting it, throws a launch party inviting all the (important) students from Riverdale High. At this fancy shindig Archie, Veronica and Betty complain about how bad the mosquitos are and wonder why Cheryl isn't being bothered....that is until Veronica realizes it MUST be because of the perfume. They proceed to spray it all over themselves and you know what? NO MORE MOSQUITOS! The comic ends with Cheryl telling a news reporter (??) about the embarrassing misunderstanding and Archie, Ronnie and Betty prance off together into the night laughing at poor, humiliated Cheryl.

Everyone knows that if this happened to Veronica she'd just about shit a brick. 


I really think the ONLY Archie characters that have any substance are Jughead and, on occasion, Betty. Jughead is simple, he minds his own business and he stays out of trouble. Betty has a good heart and all she really wants is for Archie to like her.

Veronica is manipulative and selfish and I know that's all very obvious AND part of her character but it's awful that she calls Betty her best friend and then goes around deceiving her. Archie is a coward and a womanizer and it's a little annoying that, in the end, he always manages to get what he wants. Plus he's not really that good looking. And Reggie, well he's a jerk but he usually gets what's coming to him so he's not all bad.

I'll still read Archie Comics but I feel a little tired after I'm done....one minute Archie's taking Betty out for dinner and a movie and the next he's all wrapped up around Veronica....then the next he's taking triplets out on the same date and in the end he's buying Veronica and Betty the same Christmas present to save money.

Stand up guy, eh?

To Anne!

I volunteer at the Bata Shoe Museum  which is a pretty spectacular place if you like shoes, different cultures or religions and spending a lot of money.

I thoroughly enjoy the work because I'm getting retail, costumer service and cash experience while sitting around chatting it up with a fabulously liberal older woman by the name of Anne. She told me a story about how she takes Zumba dance classes and, while talking to her grand-daughter over Skype, said that it's fun but she "sure can't shake her tits and ass!"

But not every co-volunteer is fun to be around. Like every other one I've been with. I don't even remember their names because they left no lasting impression except of course that they pissed me off.

So far I've volunteered with:

1. A girl who said incredibly awkward, morbid things and actually did not let me get a word in edge-wise

2. A girl from Paris who, while she was nice, was quiet and didn't take a very active role.

3. Anne. :)

4. This old lady who said "sort of" and "mind you" like 10000000 times a minute. "If you sort of combine your receipts you can do this but mind you it won't be easy!"

5. This French lady named Gigi who shouldn't be allowed near the computer. In fact, most old people shouldn't ever be allowed near computers because they type, one finger at a time without looking at the screen....multiple times Gigi entered all the wrong information, pressed enter, F9, all the commands to get to the next screen but didn't realize that a message had popped up saying "UNABLE TO COMPLETE TRANSACTION" Fuck.

But I really like Anne and we're able to talk freely and about all sorts of things so I'm really lucky to know her!

It's much easier....

Over the years I've come to realize that I know more about hiding stuff from people than I do about sharing it. There are ____ reasons for this:

1. Superstition: If I tell someone about something that I like or want I run the risk of jinxing it altogether. So rather than tell my parents/friends about a passion of mine (or an action I plan on taking based on that passion) I keep it to myself until the day I'm doing or have done it.

2. Fear of judgement: Wanting a tattoo or being in a noncommittal "relationship" with someone are not things that most parents (specifically) and some friends want to hear so it's much easier to act under the radar. Whatever happens, with that tattoo or the person, happens but at least I've avoided that look. You know the one.

3. Predictable reactions: I could be a rich woman if only I'd bet $100 for every time I knew exactly what a person was going to do or say in reaction to my actions. Why not avoid admitting that you've done something so you can get past the whole "I knew you were going to say/do that!" thing.

Every once in a while I'll tell people something that I would normally have kept to myself but for the most I like living on my own terms.

Zain, I hope you don't think I'm taking 

your Cyanide and Happiness idea....

I just thought it kind of fit with the post.

oooooo ahhhhh oooo aahhhh

I go through a lot of things on flights, apparently. Here are just a few of those that I managed to jot down.

If facebook didn't say how "long ago" someone posted something we'd all spend a lot less time waiting around, perhaps creeping someone else, before a socially acceptable amount of time has passed and we can like it. 

I've figured out what it is about certain people with certain behaviours that really bug me. I couldn't possibly name names and it's really no one that anyone who's reading this knows but this is it anyway: this person is the kind of person who makes everything out to sound like a proclamation or announcement. Like everything they have to say is more or less the most important/significant thing you've ever heard. The look on their face clearly indicates that they think that their words mean a lot more than they do...which is why they say things that are fairly irrelevant without realizing they just sounds plain awkward. In short phrases and with the pout of their lip they makes a statement; they are master, if only for that brief moment.

There must be something about flying that makes me get so emotional. I honestly couldn't pin point the cause because it has to go deeper than something tangible; it has to go beyond the obvious. I don't get weepy because I'm cramped or hungry or tired; I get weepy because of Justin Bieber and the Colorado river (just to use those as examples). I guess flying is just this one thing that really gets to me. It's almost unavoidable but I'm not in the least bit ashamed. Each and every time I'm up there, 30,000 feet above sea level it feels like an entirely new experience, no matter how many times I've flown. It's not like I'm fascinated by the take off or landing anymore; in fact I could do without. But that "being up there" thing transcends any experience I've ever had. I'm in love.

I rode the TTC back from the airport today, in a part-Zombie state of mind and when I got off at my stop you should be up the platform a bit but my own brother, his girlfriend and mom! It was such a coincidence, as they were out for my mom's birthday day and the chances of us riding the SAME subway was SO LOW. It was awesome!

Well, I'm back in Toronto now and it's hot. Missing California and my dad but hoping to go back AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. Missed everyone a lot and can't wait to catch up on some serious party time!

My life be like.....

There were quite a few ninjas on the beach today. They must have been having a sort of convention or something but it really was a nice send off! Good-bye Huntington Beach, good-bye ninjas-galore! Although, some of them were not that nice, if I took their comments the right way. Anyway, this won't make sense to anyone but a select few and that's PERFECTLY alright with me.

I'm feeling a little weird right now, like I'm still being tossed about in the waves. I spent a good two or three hours boogie boarding and "swimming" for the last time today and sitting here right...I meaning writing....this entry is an extremely strange experience. I'm going to miss this....I'm not sure what: feeling of being in a moving bowl of jelly? That sounds great.

I think my brain might be a little rattled because this...the computer screen....feels about a hundred miles away. That's what you get for taking in the most of the ocean.....my-my, the disconnect between my brain and the keyboard is astonishing.

I'm about to go have some Olive Garden so I'll keep writing when I'm back....maybe then I won't feel so loopy.

And so we enter another Space Time Continuum!

W-W-W-WELCOME, BACK! Olive Garden was great and the unsettled sensation has spirited away! Now to tell you a little bit more about my adventures here at the beach...

My dad and I rented a car for transportation purposes or should I say he rented a car and has been driving all over town with me in the passenger seat and it's been awesome. Lem's been good to us (Lem being the name of the car, obviously) so it'll feel weird without him (and my dad, hahahhaha)! It would be nice to stay longer but it's been relatively "cloudy" weather the last two days and I can honestly say I'm happy about that. Better to leave during bad weather than to leave during fabulous weather, AM I RIGHT?

So the father figure's pretty upset about me leaving and while it so totally doesn't rock, duuuude, that I have to go I try and stay more or less positive. In fact, just so you get an idea of my philosophy, this is what our conversation sounded like:

Father Figure: I wish that you didn't have to leave. I wish none of this had happened.

Daughter Unit: So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world Father, besides the will of evil. I was meant to come to California. In which case, I was also meant to leave it. And that is an encouraging thought.

No big deal.

Well, I'm all packed and ready to go. 7 am flight, 3 am pick up....HERE WE COME!

Jellyman, offspring...offspring, Jellyman.

Today I touched a jellyfish. Yeah, no big deal. Actually: big deal! Jellyfish are a lot more solid than one would think so when I put my (two) fingers down ever-so gently onto the "bell" I was shocked that there was some serious resistance. I'm not sure if the jellies had their stingers removed or if they're a variety of jelly without stingers but let's just say I wasn't exactly looking forward to having my fingers burned off. But lucky for me and the 800 different people who go through the Long Beach Aquarium that the jellies were harmless.

AND THERE I AM!

I thoroughly enjoyed the Long Beach Aquarium but I thoroughly detested the bus ride there...as I detest most bus rides. It's just that when you have to pay twice, take three buses and get there an hour and a half later you tend to get yourself into a bad mood. Just saying. But the Aquarium was interesting and there was no pay an extra $5 to touch the stingrays (ahem, Toronto Zoo).

I'm absolutely loving the weather here but every night is a perfect example of that phenomenon caused by cloudless days. What I mean by that is it's FREEZING. When a day goes by without a single cloud in the sky the heat inevitably escapes at night and in the morning I swear there's frost on the pumpkins!

I SAW A HUMMINGBIRD TODAY, in my cousin's garden and I thought of my mom....I tried to get a photo but the chances aren't likely with something as flighty as a hummingbird. Maybe tomorrow?

I'll write again tomorrow, if some interesting things happen (which I'm sure they will). Perhaps going to dog beach with the cousins but the beach/ocean in general 100%. Going to bed soon, after this baseball game. Let's hope it's not another 16 inning 1 run game.

Much love!

(By the way, Mama, if you sign in with your gmail account/password you might be able to comment on this...try it? Googleaccount?)



Al Pacino and Eugene Levy got their hair done and went to the disco!!

Earlier this morning my dad asked me if I had plans to go to the "disco" tonight. That's upsetting for more than one reason. 1. Because it makes him sound about 800 years old and 2. to go the disco is to go to The Albion on Saturday nights, every once in a while, instead of the disco every night because it's the 1970s and just about everything is "disco".

And no, I couldn't possibly go to the disco alone. Who would I make fun A Very Potter Musical references to??

About 30 minutes ago my dad gave me every reason in the world to wash my hair: a farm girl left her hair up in an up-do for 3 weeks, spraying it with gunk, until some spider mites decided to burrow into her skull, go into her brain and kill her. Only after she had died and eight hundred and twenty-seventh thousand six hundred and fourty-three spider mites poured out of her cut open brain did they realize how she died. I do not want spider mites in my brain or spider eggs in my face (that's another story her told) so I'm going to wash my hair and NOT fall asleep on the beach!

A few nights ago I had a dream that Al Pacino and Eugene Levy were dictators in a post-apocalyptic world in which they controlled everyone with bio-luminescent wands that shot paralyzing balls of light at people. Awesome, eh?

FLIGHT, DAY 1

There was a sign on the wing of the airplane that said "Do not walk outside this area" which I must have read, in no less than 5 minutes, no less than 7 times each time with the same deep concern for what it said. Now that's called boredom. But I suppose it was a good distraction from the take off itself (which I always find hard to handle) and the pangs of hunger in my stomach from the lack of food I've had all morning. I had to go through secondary screening at US customs (IN Pearson) and lost my breakfast...not because I was sick but because I wasn't allowed to take one measly little kiwi into the airport waiting area. Somehow I don't see why I had to throw out a perfectly delicious kiwi at customs but the people behind me (ON the plane) can peacefully chow down on their yummy smelling roast beef sandwich with NO PROBLEM. Couldn't they use their food for the same purpose I could have used my kiwi? That is if my purpose was to cultivate the seeds and by doing so somehow destroy American agriculture.

Originally I thought if I'm going to be going through US customs again in LAX couldn't I just eat my kiwi in Canada, in Canadian air, at the Canadian airport as long as by the time I've landed on US soil all "contaminants" are thrown out UNTIL I didn't go though US customs in LAX and simply walked out of the airport, luggage in hand.

But ultimately it comes down to (or came down to, considering I'm in Huntington Beach at this point) whether or not I vomit all over the inside of this airplane...and if they want any longer with the snacks that might just happen.

By the way, are you as confused as I am about this space time continuum as I am? I'm writing ON the airplane but for the purposes of when I've landed and arrived in HB. So right now I'm in the present but I'm going to post it in the future and you're going to be reading my past. Whoa, it's like a Christmas Carol ALL up in this blog.

MAN, I wish I was privy to the whole Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 is so good! thing. But I won't be until TUESDAY night when I go see it. I'm going to have to see it by myself because my dad's going to be playing tennis and that leaves me with no one to make fun A Very Potter Musical references to. I'm ridiculously jealous of Zain for having had midnight tickets (boost!) to see it and is right now, at 8:17 am (again: weird because I have no idea how to handle this past, present, future thing) probably dreaming about being a wizard and shedding a few tears over all the people who died. Instead, I get to watch the Lincoln Lawyer on a tiny screen with low quaity sound hoping that SOONER or LATER food will be in my stomach.

We're flying over land right now (as we have been since the beginning) and I'd give anything to no where we are! To me and from what I can see we could be flying over the same farm land OVER and OVER again because just about everything looks the same. Anyway, off to watch this movie because the longer I don't pay attention the less likely I am to care, to any extent, what it's about.

...a bit later...

As we flew over Colorado I thought to myself "heck, we must be flying over Colorado!". Intuition is my friend today. God, this planet is overwhelming.

JULY 16th

Arrived alived in LAX (July 15th), got picked up by my dad in a shuttle that took us to Disneyland where we got picked up by his friend. Then we drove home, changed for the beach and went down to the OCEAN (how awesome is that?). We had dinner, froze to death (nearly) because it go so darn cold and by the time we got back around 8:30 pm I could barely keep my eyes open. I slept anywhere from 1-1.5 hours the night before my flight and 8:30 pm CALI time is 11:30 pm ON time.

Woke up THIS morning (feelin' like P. Diddy. Ugh, I do that every time.), had some breakfast, fed some turtes (yeah, no big deal) and went to the beach again! Had lunch at IHOP....I guess it's good food but really no different than most breakfast places. Went boogie boarding, swam a bit if that's even what you can call it and now I'm back at the house relaxing.

I'm not going to wash my hair for the week just to see what happens. It might get so matted and gross that I'll have to OR I'll just keep it....natural dreads for the WIN!

Love and Peace! Talk soon!

xoxo

Thoughts and things and things and thoughts

You know, it's not very often that commercials border on entertaining AND accurate but every once in a while "they" strike it big.

Take any cat treat commercial in which a human shakes a bag of treats and a cat runs half way across the city to get some. I've done that. 


There's something about those treats that make cats go absolutely insane. And come home, like, right away.


But, the big question is, what's with catnip?

There are not many animals on this planet who spend one quarter of their life being a total jerk, 1 quarter of their life sleeping, 1 quarter of their life hunting/eating and the last quarter acting like a crazed addict in desperate need of a fix.

REMIX

You know, it's very often that commercials border on infuriating AND annoying but every once in a while "they" really piss me off.

Take that car commercial in which a little girl goes into great detail about a van while her parents stand in the background acting like complete and utter idiots. I can't stand it. 

There's absolutely nothing about this commercial that could ever make me interested in that car. Or go insane for a car either. In fact it just makes me want to scream, like, right away. 

But, the big question is, what's with annoying kids?

This is the only car a kid should be trying to sell or for that matter giving two damns about. When has a five year old ever cared about a 6V engine or whatever?

AND THEN THE OTHER THINGS BOUNCING AROUND IN MY HEAD

Imagine you're a buffalo calf and you've just escaped from a lion....you would have so much street cred! People couldn't say SHIT.

I never want to be a male Emperor penguin because they have an unbelievably lame existence. They have to guard their eggs for four sunless months in the stupidly cold Antarctic without eating or drinking. Poor bastards.

Ever thought about the fact that ants were born ants? What a shitty deal. What if one of the workers' last life was as, like, Gandhi or some shit?

I believe that I may have revolutionized terrorism for everyone because the best way to get a chemical weapon across a heavily protected border would be to attach it to a time release bomb, equipped with a video camera to insure that the bird has entered the targeted area....right?

Definitions

Ever defined the word 'definitions'?

definitionsplural of def·i·ni·tion (Noun)

1. A statement of the exact meaning of a word, esp. in a dictionary.

2. An exact statement or description of the nature, scope, or meaning of something.

I have.

Next question: Ever defined a relationship?

I have.

But I'm seeing the light....

In the first episode of How I Met Your Mother, Season 5, Barney and Robin are forced to 'define their relationship', while locked in a bedroom, knowing only that they like each other and that they're happy.

Their friend Lily pressures them to, basically, 'make an exact statement or description of the nature, scope, or meaning' of their new romance....something that is quite honestly IMPOSSIBLE to do.

Think about the implications of giving an EXACT statement or description of the meaning of something...think about what that would mean to humanity if we all knew exactly what we wanted, now and in the future.

Because that's basically what 'defining' a relationship is all about, right? It's all about taking that next step with that person and finding out what exactly is happening.

But my question is: how can you possibly know? 

Obviously this is a revelation that's affected a lot of people a lot of times before me but I find it oddly exhilarating that I know something different...

I'm used to a very status quo approach to relationships but wherever the 'thing' I'm in now goes doesn't matter to me because I'm open to the possibilities.

Freedom, baby! It feels gooooooood!

Lack luster so I apologize....

Hi there blogosphere! It's been awhile and I owe it all to the lack of entertaining things I've experienced/feel the need to say.

So instead of doing the usual movie thing, which burned out because even the bad previews I watched on imdb.com were too bad to review, I'm going to say hi, how are ya and then move on to the sweet game of solitaire waiting for me.


So....HI, HOW ARE YA?

Good...good, that's good. Me? Yeah, I've been good. Working for my mom a bit, visiting room mates, making travel plans for August (OUT WEST, baby!!), planting a little here and there, watching myself become a newly liberated woman AND, this above all else, counting down the days until I go up to Paradise Bay.

Paradise Bay, you ask? MY COTTAGE! It's been a looooooooohooooooooong time since I've been and I simply cannot wait!

Anyway, I'm gonna go because the inspiration thing? Yeah, I have none.

Abortion Rant

I'm becoming more and more embarrassed to live in a country whose government concerns itself with the private choices many young women are forced to make, in the face of accidental pregnancies. Abortion, at the centre of so many debates, has absolutely no bearing on our Prime Minister's personal life or how he runs this country. So why do we let him cut funding to organizations like Planned Parenthood?

In fact, the very idea that a government, in a democratic country, implements policies that restrict a persons right to abortion just goes to show that 'freedom of speech' is, unfortunately, limited to those who march to the loudest drum. In our case, PM Harper refuses to 'reopen the abortion debate', a debate that quite frankly has no personal implications for him.

According to Stats Canada, in 2004 there were 16.1 million females in Canada (a 50.4% representation of the total population) so when Harper says that 'reopening the abortion debate' is not the primary concern of the Canadian people, one has to stop and think.

"So although 27% of the Canadian population was 'personally against abortion' (in 2010), that does not detract from the 50% who were 'pro-choice', nor does it detract from the 46% who believe abortion should be legal under all circumstances."  So why has it come down to whether or not Harper thinks abortion is right?

If it's a question of morality let it be on the conscience of the person who chooses the abortion.

English Rant

Detour from the usual movie thing but necessary.



People my age and younger suck at English. In the grand scheme of things, English is a hard language and the formulas are constantly changing regardless of the "rules"....There are more exceptions in English than can be mentioned but that's no excuse for the blatant misuse of a language. However, the BIGGEST problem I've been noticing lately is the totally improper use of "your" and "you're".


Quick English Lesson:

Your: possessive
You're: a contraction of you and are

In a sentence?


Your book is on the table.

You're the owner of that book?

Hard?


No, not at all.

I don't know why people don't understand this SIMPLE and incredibly BASIC grammar rule. It's one thing to use "ur" instead of the full "you're" or "your" in a text but if you're (you + are) going to type it out, in what you THINK is proper English, take a second and just read what you're saying.

"hey dude, your going down!" does NOT MAKE SENSE. Someone cannot be the personification of "going down"; it's impossible.

Another mistake people make?


then vs than


Then is based in time
and
than is comparative

In a sentence:


Susie is going to the store and then to the movies.
(Susie is creating a time line)

John would rather go to the movies than go to the store.
(John is making a comparison)

HARD?!
no, not hard.


Did you know that....

• Almost 50% of Canadian adults have low literacy skills?
• A 1% increase in the literacy rate would generate $18 billion in economic growth every year?
• and, in Ontario only 30% of the population have less than a high school education?

Why?

Brought to you in part by the Coalition for Literacy Rejuvenation and The Rebecca G. Fund

3 reviews out of a 5 (this one got my blood boiling!)

I'm about to ask you the hardest question you've ever had to answer so I'll give you a few seconds to prepare...








Are you ready? Okay good...here we go:

How many shark attacks and dead/injured friends does it take for you to not go swimming anymore?




Give yourself 5 billion points for saying "0" because NO ONE should have to die on a wonderful, weekend vacation.


Give yourself 1 million points for saying "1" because how are you supposed to know to not go swimming if no one's been attacked?


Give yourself -4 fragillion points for saying "more than 1" because you're stupid.




Shark Night, which kind of sounds like Fright Night is a horror movie about a group of ridiculously good looking people who go to a remote beach house, for the weekend, for some fun in the sun. But all the flirting and sexually driven dialogue must eventually end (like all good things) so that people can get ripped to shit by fresh water sharks. The only POTENTIALLY intelligent part of this movie is the word play in the title itself: Shark Night can be flipped to say Night Shark, a type of shark that's been known to move out into fresh waters...so maybe, just maybe, the writers had this in mind?


I sincerely doubt it though because the same producers of this fine little film are guilty of shit like Hostel and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.


But here's what's so interesting about this movie in comparison to something like Anaconda and/or Jaws: these people have the option (or so it seems in the trailer) to get the heck out of there and get help from, like, a wild animal organization or something. I know that when there's a raccoon living in the attic of my house I can dial a number and some guy will come to my house, capture the little guy and I won't have to get my face ripped off. So, guys-being-attacked-by-sharks-in-a-lake, there's probably an app for that. 


Why is it that the black guy got killed in the first minute of the trailer and then the following minute and a half every other character gets sucked down into the murky depths of shark-town? I don't have much experience with shark attacks but I'm going to say, based on intuition and a series of unrelated math equations, that the MINUTE one of my friends even thinks there's an animal trying to kill us I won't set one TOE in the water until I know for sure. So, again, why does everyone keep going swimming?


Maybe Bobby is so upset by Stuart's death (just making up names here) that he needs to go take a swim, to cool off, when he gets attacked himself. And then maybe scantily clad Joanne is so distraught that she takes the Sea-do out for a cruise around the lake when the engine fails and Bruce the Shark from Finding Nemo realizes meat tastes better than seaweed and has her for dinner. And then maybe the only reasonable person within a 5 metre radius of anything related to this movie gets up, slams her drink down on the table and demands to know why, oh-why, are people so friggen stupid?


5 shark attacks out of 5 but NOT in the good way...like, in the way where you deserve to be attacked five times by 5 different sharks.

2.5 Reviews out of 5

My brother linked me an article from the website Cracked on three movies that the author can't decide whether to take seriously or not: Click Here to read.

So anyway, I thought I'd take a spin at the three movies reviewed and let you know what I think re: content and author's opinion.

What's Your Number?

In fewer words than the title itself I'd have to agree with the Cracked article that this movie, more or less, sucks. I'd also have to agree with the Cracked article that What's Your Number has absolutely no original content, lacks character depth and follows an age old pattern of single girl looking for love the week (or whatever) before her sister (or whoever) gets married. Where's the original thought? 27 Dresses already did it, Something Borrowed is doing it right now and No Strings Attached/Love and Other Drugs (although a somewhat different offshoot of the Rom-Com) made millions with almost the exact same plot.

So why the heck are people spending $15+ to sit through the same movie every year? I know that 27 Dresses, Something Borrowed and No Strings/Love Drugs were bad because I downloaded them (gasp!) and the most I spent was $2 on a chocolate bar but these movies are sucking people in.

(I'm not innocent of getting sucked in though but we'll come back to that....)

You know, Rom-Com's can be good and instead of appealing to our very basic human nature Hollywood should try harder to make movies like Easy A and Knocked Up. And you know what....She's the Man, too because even though that's another offshoot of the Rom-Com it's still incredibly entertaining, original and full to the brim with absurd but lovable characters! Who, by the way, aren't just good looking for the sake of being good looking or single and desperate for the sake of being single and desperate.

And one last thing: the writer's of Knocked Up had it right when they came up with the brilliant idea that a doctor would only recognize the lead by the look of their vagina. Brilliant, kind of crude but altogether original and yet I've actually seen this done over and over again since then. Case in point: What's Your Number? Guys, it's be done and it was funny...it's not funny anymore. 


The Hangover Part II

What?!?







No. No. No! It's unbelievable. In fact, I'm hoping that this is all just a big joke....another thing I agree with the Cracked article about. It's one thing to make the same Rom-Com over and over again with different actors and mildly different story lines but it's another thing to take a good premise and actually just make another version of it. Zack Galifianakis is great, don't get me wrong, but there's nothing charming about him in the second installment of a movie premise that really should have been left alone. And the thing that really gets me about this movie: in the first Hangover we're lead to believe that these guys have a reputation for being wild but in the second Hangover the novelty of three dudes getting so wasted they don't remember anything is gone. I no longer have respect for them because they got plastered in Vegas, stole a tiger and got married to a hooker. It's just not genuine. And disingenuous people suck.

Bury the idea, Hollywood, because it worked and now it's just giving me a really big head ache.

HERE STARTS THE PART WHERE I DISAGREE WITH THE CRACKED GUY...

Fast Five

You know what? It is what it is and no one should take it for more than that. The Cracked article complains about the cars and the fighting and the butts BUT the Fast and Furious franchise (woooo, alliteration) has never really ever been more than those three things. I guess there's some half-baked commentary on third world dictatorships (I guess) but what it all comes down to is guns and cars and butts. I'm biased, sure, because Vin Diesel is good looking and Paul Walker more so but the question of whether to take Fast Five seriously or not has one simple answer: nyes. "No" because it's an action movie and action movies are stupid and "Yes" because if you ignore the fact that everything and everyone blows up, rolls over and shoots guns without getting hurt then you're sure to be entertained.

I guess it just feels like even though Fast Five is the dude(r) version of What's Your Number? the genre of Rom-Com takes itself a little bit more seriously than this variety of action. I mean, for god's sake, Ludacris is in it.

Honestly, I think that you can't expect something like Fast Five to be intellectual but What's Your Number? tries its hardest to be smart, fun and original in all the departments that it's dumb, boring and clichéd.

Thanks for reading.


What's Your Number?: 27 borrowed bridesmaid dresses with no strings attached covered in shake out of 100

The Hangover part II: 1 reallllllllyy bad hangover out of 5

Fast Five: 4 furiously fast cars out of 5

2 reviews out of 5!

Anything with Charlie Day in it has to be gold so that's the position I'm taking on the movie Horrible Bosses.

The premise is quite simple in that the three main characters want to kill their really horrible bosses. Jennifer Aniston plays a dentist who sexually harasses Charlie Day, Kevin Spacey plays a douchebag who's a douchebag to Jason Bateman and, my favourite, Colin Farrell plays a gross-looking, maybe a little bit paranoid racist/sizist/sexist/whateverelseist you can think of to Jason Sudeikis.

So, after these three guys realize their lives suck because of their bosses they go on a hunt for a "for-hire" murderer...Jamie Foxx.

I'm not really going to say anything else because, to be honest, the trailer isn't all that intense. It's not really about the plot, anyway, because the characters are the driving force. I think it should work if it's got the vibe that The Hangover has with a twist of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

I know this review wasn't nearly as dynamic as the last but I'd like to think that if a trailer that has nothing in it can make me think "sure, I'll go see that!" then I don't need to go on and on about how great it is.

I do think that Colin Farrell is becoming a sort of trend with me. I don't look for his movies on purpose, you know? I just happen upon them! He does look funny in this movie though. Not stupid like in all of his other films (except In Bruges, which was fantastic!)

Anyway, sorry this wasn't as good of a review as I'd hoped. Maybe I'm just better at writing reviews for movies I don't like.

Until next time?

4 horrible bosses out of 5

Lapierre

I'm revising my plan to make five consecutive "trailer review" blogs because there's something I really want to talk about.

Maxime Lapierre.

He's Vancouver's very own Tie Domi, but with class.

I'm not one for violence and I'm especially unimpressed by fighting in hockey so it comes as a big surprise that I pretty much idolize Lapierre. When he's on the ice my senses are heightened. When he scores I'm the only one who's cheering because it's him, not because it's a goal. But most shockingly, when he starts talking shit with the other team I cheer him on with pride! 

I'm this guy...

...but with class!

He seems to have found the perfect balance between complete goon and complete douchebag. He doesn't just fight with his fists but he doesn't just fight with his words. When he's on the ice, talking all that smack something about the look on his face says to me "I'm having fun!". Guys who just fight and push and make the game of hockey look far more violent than it is should be kicked out of all games.

But when you're on the ice with 9 other guys and the testosterone is oozing out of every corner you have to know how to chirp without causing a fight. THAT part of hockey is acceptable because we've all been there. We've all picked on someone during a game of street hockey but never to the extent that they threw off their gloves and started throwing punches.

By the way, Vancouver WHOOOOOOOPED ass tonight. Again.


NEXT blog will be a review. Sorry. Had to get it out of my system.

1 awesome review out of an upcoming 4 more!

I'm going to jump the gun on this one and say that the new, yet to be released in theatres, vampire movie called Fright Night is going to be bad. It has almost the same fun "F" alliteration as Freaky Friday but without all that really, really sweet...um...acting (?) and what I can only assume is an awesome tween soundtrack (again, opinion based entirely off of a two minute trailer).

So, while there's nothing I enjoy more than Colin Farrell and that cute guy from Star Trek...what's his name? OK, who am I kidding? It's Anton Yelchin....

So....while there's nothing I enjoy more than those two on screen together I find it hard to believe that anything that looks that bad has even the slightest chance of being good. And I liked Twilight. I know. Crazy.


To be fair, I liked the books...or book...I'm not really sure because they're all just a big jumble in my head but the point is I fell for that so...well, actually, you know what?

I could see 2 million people falling for Fright Night.

Anyway, from the information I was able to get out of the trailer Anton Yelchin is a high school kid who has a hot girlfriend and a vampire-sniffing dog aka human best friend named McLovin'. The movie (trailer) starts with Anton complaining to McLovin' about how people keep going missing at their school and then, when he notices his creepy new neighbor come out only at night and release 4 inch long fangs from his otherwise normal looking face who does he call? Mc-freakin'-Lovin', that's who. So, the movie (trailer) continues, McLovin' comes over to Anton's house and, while crouching behind a kitchen counter, whispers in his most serious lisp "your neighbor's a vampire". Then the movie (trailer) shows a series of seemingly unrelated events occur, Farrell hangs upside down on the ceiling of a dance club and Anton decides to go all Rambo on little Farrell's ass by buying, what looks like, a Ghost Busters costume. Oh, and he buys a crossbow because who are we kidding? In a fight against a vampire you have two options: crossbow or death. Come on.

I'm not sure if it's just because trailers have this odd tendency to squash 2 and a half hours into 2 and a half minutes but Fright Night looks awful. It looks like that other movie about some creepy neighbor locking vulnerable women up into all white rooms while their boyfriends fight tooth and nail to save them. But I guess terrible sells in Hollywood.

But here's my biggest issue: vampires are cool, calm and collected. Sure, sometimes they screech like pterodactyls but, for the most part, they hunt like nobody's business. Even Twilight got that right. They don't need chains or white rooms with blast doors because when they want to suck your blood they will. The very fact that you've been dragged away by a dude with fangs and completely black eyes is enough to subdue you. There's your intimidation. It almost feels like if a vampire has chains it's like adding insult to injury. Just do it already. God.


I want to give Farrell a chance because our last encounter ended embarrassingly for him. I came away with a sweet new Irish accent but he left with absolutely no dignity (I am, of course, referring to my previous post on the fabulous movie Alexander.) 


And Anton Yelchin. Well, he fast-talked his way into my heart playing Pavel Andreievich Chekov in the newest Star Trek movie and, way back in the day, I cried because Emile Hirsch and Justin Timberlake killed him. 


But, I'm sorry: Farrell's funny factor (ooooh ooooh, another alliteration...haha, I did it again) and Yelchin's he's-just-so-friggen-cute factor ain't gonna cut it.


Fright Night: you scare me but only because I know that you'll make a lot of money at the box office.


2 vampire fangs out of 5









On another note: a girl who came by to look at our house, for renting, totally said I reminded her of a cute, girl McLovin'. That girl for the WIN!

Another note: The following five blog entries are going to be movie reviews based solely on trailers and titles. 

I'm not insane because my rats are human!

I used to think that people who treated their pets like humans were a bit nuts. You know those people who buy their dogs special organic treats and carry around a bag full of wipes, poop-bags and a toys? The same kind of people who act as though their dog is their baby? Well, I thought they were nuts.

That is until I got rats.

It sounds crazy, right? That I'd be calling dog lovers "nuts" when I myself have pet rats on a homemade diet?

And now that I'm batting for the other team I'm going to defend us "nutters" who treat their pets with special diets and toys! See, the thing is, I realized that the packaged food from the pet store wasn't supplying my rats with the proper nutrition so I searched the internet, high and low, for a homemade diet. I found one on THIS website, emailed the creator, biked around East Toronto getting all the ingredients and finally came home to, basically, spoon feed my rats three times a day.

Like they are babies. Human babies. BUT, it's OK because, you know what? A) This has given me something to do and B) The Ladies are more human than you'd think.

Moral of the Story?


People should be encouraged to seek out the best diet for their pets, the best toys, the best bedding and the best whatever-else-you-can-think-of because Animals are Beautiful People.

A Green-Bird Original

Advisory Warning: If you ever catch me dressing up my rats please, for the love of god, slap me!

You're a really hungry mosquito bite

So you know how "they" say that eating smaller meals more often during the day is healthier than 2 or 3 big ones? You didn't? Well OK, now you do. But the point is: I do this. I eat 8 billion different small things throughout the course of a day rather than stuff my face at breakfast, lunch and dinner. So while this is "healthier" I find it also just encourages my stomach to be hungry all. the. time.


Look at it this way: imagine that you're a really itchy mosquito bite and you're on the arm of someone who just keeps on scratching: you're never going to stop being itchy until they learn to stop scratching.

Same logic for my stomach. If I keep feeding it (albeit small and healthy foods) it's never going to know what it's like to be not hungry. But now that I'm in this rut where I eat all day long I know my stomach is never going to stop grumbling in hungry-anger at me.

This is a problem.


That and the fact that I do very little with my time so I eat just to give myself something to do.
(As an aside: I used to like being lazy but now I appreciate how boring it is and I'd really do anything...yes, anything...to fill the void that is slowly becoming my summer.)

Anyway....I'm off to go find something to eat. There's probably some left over spaghetti or cucumber salad in the fridge....



Or, you know, that huge bag of candy my brother bought me.

Zach Galifianakis is a Saint.

Everyone and their Grandma knows that Due Date is the best movie ever made.
And everyone and their Grandpa knows that Zach Galifianakis, in Due Date, is simply fantastic.
But does everyone and their Grandparents know that Zach is actually a Saint? 


"A Saint?!?" the audience cried out in disbelief, "We don't believe it! Show us some proof!!" 
"You want the proof? You can't handle the proof!!" I bellowed back in indignation, reaching into my bag and removing a glossy 8.5 x 11 inch picture. With force and a lot of conviction I threw the paper down onto the floor and watched as the crowd descended, awe-struck silence rippling back wards to the outer rim of people. 

"There," I said firmly, "is your proof." But no one replied, too mesmerized by what they were seeing. I stood back and watched like an invisible observer at an art gallery and St. Zach was the Mona Lisa; people in front moved out of the way for those who had made their way up from the back and all the while Zach lay on the floor, untouched. Eventually the murmuring began and it wasn't long before questioning faces turned up towards me.
"Where'd you find this?" one freckled faced man asked, as he leaned in for another look. I smiled confidently down at them all because I knew exactly what I was going to say; I'd been practising for so long.
"Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré, Québec." 
"What? What did he say?" the crowd was murmuring amongst themselves again.
"In the Basilica of Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré, just outside of Québec City." I said, louder this time so everyone could hear.
"In a church?" an elderly man with grey hair said in shock.
"Well, where else are you going to find painting of Saints, Harry?" replied a similarly old and grey haired lady, someone I presumed to be his wife. 
"It...it looks just like him..." the freckled man said, looking around at everyone.
"That's because it is!" 
"Golly gee, you might be on to something. Zach Galifianakis is a Saint. A real bona fide genuine spiritual man!" The crowd began to cheer, throwing a collection of twigs, grass and whatever else they could find up into the air. Pandemonium ensued as the original crowd drew in greater numbers and I stood quietly pleased, before the pulsating crowd. And I knew, at that very moment, that everything was about to change.