The Eve of Destruction

I’ve done some stupid things on New Year’s Eve. This is especially true when you put me at a party where I don’t know many people (and I suppose it’s not limited to NYE either). I get nervous and all of a sudden shooters become a good idea. Shortly thereafter, I turn into an uncensored source of one-liners and physical comedy (in my slanted opinion at the time at least), laugh very hard at myself and end up in my 3 foot circle (where if you don’t happen to be in the circle, you don’t exist). And if I’m real lucky, I won’t fall (i.e. ‘jump’ and then fall) down the stairs (part of my physical comedy routine), or puke in their bathroom sink later (frantically trying to force the chunks down the drain while a lineup of drunks doing the peepee dance pound urgently on the door).

This is why I’m extra nervous about the party tonight. I haven’t been an asshole lately, but that doesn’t quell my fear any. Perhaps I’ll call up my friend and ask if she wants to go to the bar instead.

Happy New Year!!!

Mall Rats

Since when did Boxing DAY become a WEEK? I thought that if I avoided Boxing Day but hit the mall later in the week, it would be ok. NOPE. I can’t believe that people shop so much before Christmas and then shop some more right afterwards. Yay consumerism!!! It was a nuthouse at the mall. I think shoppers are almost MORE rude than before Christmas. I know, crazy but true.

The games of hardcore Sidewalk Chicken were rampant. Hardcore means that collisions are sure to happen, because EVERYONE expects YOU to move. In fact, they are so sure you’ll move that they don’t even bother to watch where they’re going. Another variation of the game is what I’d call Bumper Carts. This is where people who need to get by just bump you out of the way. They can come at you from any angle, you have to keep your wits about you. And watch out if she’s got kids and a cart, then she’s also got motivation and a weapon to get you the hell out of her way.

The deals were worth it in the end (even after sifting through piles and piles of smalls and extra smalls before I found my size). I just needed to gobble down a few jugs of patience beforehand (and about every 15 minutes) and hope for the best (aka: a parking spot).

Eat, drink... and be fat and drunk!!!

Won’t it be lovely to go to New Year’s Eve celebrations with rolls over my pants!!! Geez. I tried my hardest to avoid the obligatory 10lb holiday weight gain.

I exercised a few times. Once was on my dad’s old bike, which is so rickety and bumpy that I thought it was going to buck me off! Anything that shook on my body was almost shaken to the point of turning to butter and I had to go pee after about half an hour and had to go back! That bike seat is so hard on the female parts, I don’t know how Dad rides it set at that angle.

Anyways, suffice it to say that my brainwave ‘the starvation diet’ did not work. Not that it can’t work because I know that it does… if you can stick to it. And well, I ate.

... LOTS. I had the unselfish task of trying to unload my parent’s chocolates so that they wouldn’t get fat and die. I tried my best, almost got the Purdy’s box polished off. And if you want to see what a week of eating perogies and *pie does to a person, look at me from the rear view. Yikes.

Happy New Year Folks! Let's all eat, drink... and be fat and drunk!

*The pie movement is alive and well here... it complements the Paunch'n Haunch Expansion Project very well indeed.

Holidays in Vegas???

No I didn't spend my holidays in Vegas as these Elvis glasses and Vegas visor might suggest... Although I did get a digital camera for Christmas!!! Yay!
Haha... check out the guy in the background. It looks like he was chuckling at my friend Tam and I acting like goofs in that store. She laughed so hard I thought she was gonna fall over!
 

Whining Hiatus

So my dad writes:
Weird!! Days have gone by and no whining. Perhaps the whiner has gone home for Christmas and doesn't have the need to whine. Or perhaps now she is whining in person? Or perhaps the environment at home is stifling her creative genius? Or perhaps she gets adequate ego boost from beating her mother in scrabble?

I reply:
Yes I've taken a break from blogging! I definitely have some whine-worthy blogging to catch up on since I've been here for Christmas. I'm compiling a looooong list!!! You just wait for it...

Creative genius eh? I like the sounds of that...

Are You Dumb?

I'm not sure why, but I find this kind of funny: Are you dumb?

Guess what? I'm not dumb!!! I can quit school now with peace of mind. And to think that I wasted all this time trying to prove that I'm not dumb. I should have just consulted Jimmy from the start.

The years upon years upon YEARS I've wasted... I guess that wasn't so bright. Hmmm.

Ah shit. I'm dumb.

72 Virgins

Some religions apparently think that if you are a martyr in life, you go to heaven and you get 72 virgins! At first I thought that this was so sexist!!! But then the guy said that it also works for women, who get 72 male virgins to play with.

If this was true, then it would really suck to be a martyr on Earth all your life and then to basically ALSO be a martyr in heaven, having sexual relations with fricken 72 virgin men! This would NOT be fun at all!

On the other hand, 72 men who know what they are doing... Well now, that’s another story!!! Oh yeah, and they also need to look like Brad Pitt.

Hello martyrdom!!!

Dating degrees of separation

I shall finally comment on my trials and tribulations in the crazy 3-ring circus called the dating world. Basically, my dating life has sucked for a long time. It was like my mojo had been banned to Siberia, indefinitely. I kept expecting it to show up one day, a little shaken, a little dirty, but nonetheless smiling at my door, ready to change my life. Nope. Nada. Nil. Nuthin. Negatory... Then I’d finally go on a couple of dates with a guy and it would end out of the blue. It was kind of like in high school where the person just stops calling.

Anyways, since then I’ve dated a little here and there and the mojo is slowly makin’ its way back to mama. Don’t get me wrong; I’m no dating dynamo. Even though it can be fun at times, it mostly just sucks. For one thing, I get so nervous that I think I'm gonna DIE. Seinfeld once said, “Dating is pressure and tension. What is a date really, but a job interview that lasts all night? The only difference is that in not many job interviews is there a chance you’ll wind up naked at the end of it.” Truthfully, in not many dates is there a chance I’ll end up naked at the end of it either!!! Perhaps that’s why they stopped calling???

I absolutely HATE telling people they’re not right for the job. Sorry, you don’t have the qualifications. You chew with your mouth open to the point of spitting small chunks of food, your breath smells like you ate rotten meat earlier that day, you admitted that your last relationship ended because you cheated on your ex-girlfriend with her best friend and you just told me that it’s fun to torture cats! Sometimes it’s not so clear-cut though, and I get confused. Do I even like him enough to eventually think that mannerism is cute or that the mullet doesn’t really matter? Can a person learn how to TOTALLY change the way he kisses (i.e. to NOT lick my whole face like an ecstatic German Sheppard)?

It’s a scary world out there kids. Flo asked me once why I think so much about it and why I can’t just go out and have fun. Well, I just can’t. Especially if the guy has somehow squeaked through to the 3rd interview and is already planning our future together, while I’m trying to figure out why, when he does that thing, it grates on my last nerve. But I should at least try. And hey, it’s been a while since I had my heart plucked out, tarred, feathered and then drop kicked off the edge of a tall building into rush hour traffic, so why the hell not?

I’m still freaked out about what happened on Saturday night. It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that these 3 guys I know, two of whom I’ve dated (albeit briefly) and one who recently asked me to lunch… ARE ALL FRIENDS!!! In fact two of them are ROOMMATES! I would have never ever ever thought they were connected. I met one guy because he worked at a bar I used to go to, another guy is a friend of a good friend of mine, and the lunch guy and I are both members of a club. Yes, it was a total shocker. So I guess if a guy is 30-something and single in this city, there’s a good chance that I’ve dated him!!! Rather ironic, especially since my dating life has been sporadic at best.

Weird. Just when I think things maybe, possibly, just might get boring…

Ever feel like you're being chased...

... by a gigantic frog in a party hat???



Welcome to another edition of: This is my Life.

Rant Runaway

So my entry ‘Definition of Insanity’ and in particular, my dad’s little ‘rant’ has garnered some attention on the Internet. Here are a few sites that have it posted or have linked to it:

Small Dead Animals

WAKING UP ON PLANET X

Western Canadian Separation

Hell Bent

Project Alberta

It’s pretty cool that they think my dad’s ideas are “kick-ass”. I think my dad wasn’t quite prepared for the fact that it got over 100 hits in one day. Dad, this ain’t no private diary. And in light of that fact, I guess whoever wants to can access the drivel contained within.

I had no idea there were so many Alberta/West separatists. Wow. I guess that's a whole other issue. I was just concerned with the upcoming election and how, if so many people are insane, then we are in big trouble. In the words of NOFX: "Majority rule don't work in mental institutions." Haha, I love that song (The Idiots are Taking Over- download here. It's about Bush but I think the Libranos are just as corrupt and controlling. But that's neither here nor there and freakin' I'm not talking politics again on this site!!!).

So today my dad emails me and says, basically:

Unfortunately, your uncle and aunt have your blog site ---because they asked for it. Don’t change a thing. I think it is great if your parents can see the true you and still love you, what do you care what the rest of the world thinks. Mom thought you should know. As I said I told them you posted my rant so they wanted the site.

Haha, I love how he starts with "unfortunately..." Ok so I do have a couple of problems with this, beyond them having the site addy and reading my entries on poo capers and camel toes. (I was going to link to those entries just now, but it’s better if perhaps I don’t make it so easy for them.) Anyways, my first problem with my dad’s email is about seeing the true me and still loving me. What the? Does this blog really represent TRUE me??????? Oh geez. Maybe some of my friends could comment? It is definitely one side of me, although much of this blog is tongue in cheek purely for entertainment sake. Mostly because I have to admit that I’m a goof and should laugh about it instead of cry. The other issue is, why did they ask for my blog site? If they wanted to read dad’s rant, he could have emailed it just like he emailed it to me!!! Geez man. It was bad enough that my parents found out about it, now my great Aunt and Uncle have it and their impression of me as this sweet young thang will be completely tarnished forever.

Ok, I don’t know what their impression of me was before, but now it will be totally screwed.

I used to be self conscious about this site and who knew about it and read it. It is, however, public domain and it's way out of my control now. So be it. Please don't tell my supervisor though, that's all I ask!

Anyways, I'm NOT changing a thing, true me or some ramped up Rude Jude. And maybe you'll still love me or maybe you'll just go throw up behind the couch. It's your call.

Limp or blind? You may have to choose...

I saw an article about how erectile dysfunction drugs (i.e. Viagra, Cialis, etc.) may cause blindness in some people. I think the key words in this sentence are ‘some people’. This begs the obvious question, who are ‘some people’ and who are these people really gettin-it-on with? Perhaps they took the pills so they could love themselves a little more?

Was this possibility looked into AT ALL??? Yeah, I thought not. Mystery solved.

You see, there's a reason I'm in research.

Work shmerk!!!

I was working just now, but it got too hard so I had to stop. Why why why does work have to be so hard (and kind of boring)?!?!

I seriously thought that once I left the folks' house, the insane amounts of work associated with living would cease. Freakin' was I EVER wrong. Especially if you want to get ANYWHERE in life.

So here I am, trying to finish up a paper and as soon as a tough question comes up... I have to bug someone else for a while until I'm sufficiently satiated on the entertainment front. Then refocus. *Sigh* When am I ever going to be done? People ask me that ALL THE TIME. It gets ANNOYING. Especially after I tell them an approximate guesstimation of time frame and they reply with, "But I thought you said you'd be done _____________ (insert date from the past)."

When Flo flew the coop he left a note that said:
"Get off msn messenger and finish your PhD and get the hell outta here! -French Proverb"

It made me laugh. However, there are a multitude of reasons for which I'm still here. None that I will bore you to tears with right now, however. Let's just say there's a LOT of work between ME and DONE. You could say that the hypothetical ME is somewhere in the NWT and DONE is lost somewhere in Mexico. This is better than China, which is where DONE was a few short years ago. Anyways, it's not a time frame it's an exercise in perseverence and staying SANE.

People who know I'm taking a while to finish ask me in disbelief, "Do you blog every day?" OR "How do you get time to blog?"

Um, it's not that tough. I just spent a whole 5 minutes here. Holy TIME CONSUMING! (not). Plus I don't have a boyfriend and that's a HUGE time saver. Oh well. For now I'm doomed to struggling through statistics and tables and figures and the odd little distraction with the blog or annoying my friends. Just indulge me for now. Sanity is a precious thing...

The Boudoir Workout for your Booty

I have a lovely day of cleaning planned today. Thank goodness I have some company coming next week, it jump-starts the ol’ cleaning motivation, which is usually NIL. In fact, if I EVER want to date again, I’d better get that bedroom clean!!!

Actually, doing laps around my bedroom right now would be an excellent workout regimen. I could write a book and get really rich!!! I’d call it something tantalizing like “The Boudoir Workout for your Booty”. In actual fact, it would just be an instruction manual as to how to get your bedroom to the state mine is in (a natural disaster might help too).

So the workout would then be doing laps around the messy boudoir, which would be an obstacle course of climbing up the clothes piles, scrambling over stacks of books, maneuvering around hoardes of empty glasses and dodging old cat puke… Just kidding about the cat puke (or am I?). With the book’s clever name it is sure to sell like crazy, ahem, initially. But then I suppose after reading the first few pages they’d say, “What the? This has nothing to do with sex!!! What a ripoff!” Then they’d realize that in order to actually have any sex, they’d have to clean the fricken mess up.

Oh, and then I wouldn’t be the only loser with a messy bedroom out there! Man, this plan just gets better and better!!!

When life gives you lemons...

Click picture to magnify.

Scott Adams, creator of 'Dilbert', has a blog. One of the recent entries is called Top the Cartoonist. I thought it was kind of fun. I decided to take a stab at it, but came up a little lame. My attempts were...

Sourpuss: When life gives you lemons...

Sourpuss: Take those little yellow balls of sunshine...
Sourpuss: And light up the boss.

Sourpuss: Rub them on your ass, add sugar…
Sourpuss: And then find yourself a girl who loves lemon drops.
(I confess the original lemon drop idea came from my roomie;)

Sourpuss: Pretend they’re your _________'s head (substitute: boss, ex-girlfriend/boyfriend, mother-in-law, annoying coworker)...
Sourpuss: And make lemonade.

Sourpuss: Just like youth is wasted on the young...
Sourpuss: Lemons are wasted on the stupid.

You can check out others responses at his blog. When writing humor, Scott makes some great suggestions. He says that at the core of humor is what he calls the "2-of-6 rule." He explains that in order for something to be funny, you need at least two of the following elements:
Cute (as in kids and animals)

Naughty

Bizarre

Clever

Recognizable (You’ve been there)

Cruel

He says that he invented the rule and that whenever something is funny it follows the rule.

Hmmm, interesting... I think I rely on cruel and bizarre a lot. That's my 2. I'll have to keep the rule in mind and try to change it up. Perhaps that explains the monkey thing, it adds in the 'cute' dynamic to any scenario. And if you can get a monkey to do something bizarre, then you'll have everyone bustin' a gut. I get this!!!

The actual cartoon runs tomorrow at the Dilbert site (or click on this link to the cartoon).

Tweeter and the Monkey Girl

I recently got the BEST idea for a Halloween costume. My friend Jen was talking about those suits that monkeys wear, you know, usually red with the little cap and tassle, sometimes including a leash. Brilliant costume idea! Of course, I’d be Tweeter and well, she would make the perfect Monkey Girl. She’s so small and cute anyways, she sure to be a funky monkey. Of course, the golden line for the night would be, “Do you want to touch my monkey?” For some reason she wasn’t so keen on that idea. I’m not 100% sure about the leash thing… it would be fun to have that kind of control, but it seems somehow, uh, kinky. And I just don’t wanna go there.

What is it about monkeys that is so funny? Is it because the word itself is funny, or is it due to how the animal looks, or is it because we associate the word with some sort of antics or buffoonery? Face it, if you want something to be comical, just work a monkey into it. Even ‘The Family Guy’ throws a monkey in the mix (the evil monkey). Just the brief sight of it sparks laughter (it is both scary and funny).

Some sayings that are funny due to the mention of monkey…
Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.
Yeah and monkeys might fly outta my butt.
What kind of monkey business is that?
What time is it? Half past a monkey's ass, quarter to his balls.
Spank the monkey.
Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, you look like a monkey and you smell like one too…

The list goes on but you get the picture. Now get back to work monkey-boy.

Cold enough for ya?

Who says that? Can you think of something a little more original? Any reference to the weather is cliché anyways. Of course, in a formal setting, more interesting chitchat about the weather may not be appropriate. You can’t exactly make conversation by saying, “Are those nipcicles or are you happy to see me?” or “Man, my car was harder to get warmed up this morning than my wife after watching yet another Oprah show on how much men suck.”

Definition of Insanity

According to Albert Einstein the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Let's not let criminals take our money AGAIN, with our blessing. Let's show them that this IS NOT ok.

Car + Music = Deaf Mute Michie

When I was away, my fave cover band was playing here in town... and now they're playing again, and I'm out of town AGAIN!!!!!!!!!! Freakin'. I was SO looking forward to hearing them play Sublime, Foo Fighters and Incubus! EVERY song they play is great.

Oh well, I bet "Jagerboy" is gonna be there... and well, that story didn't exactly have a 'happily ever after'. I'll spare you my dating troubles right now, though.

Well at least I can listen and scream my lungs out in the car...

I get kind of obsessed with music. I'll listen to my 'song of the moment' over and over... Like the latest Unwritten Law song 'Save Me'. I think I'll buy that CD today. Shit, I'm always deaf and mute by the time I get to Cowtown. Oh well.

YOU CAN'T SAVE ME, YOU CAN'T CHANGE ME, WELL I'M WAITING FOR MY WAKEUP CALL AND EVERYTHING'S MY FAULT... WOAH WOAH WOAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

It's funny how we always think no one really sees us in our cars. That must be why people just go to town picking their noses all the time while they drive. I think a lot of times people don't consider that there's actually PEOPLE in the other cars... Which is probably why we would choose to abuse other drivers so willingly, but then if we found out it was someone we knew we'd be so embarrassed. Just a thought.

Speaking of cars... man I'd love to have the cash to pimp mine up. A new stereo would be in order FOR SURE... I can just feel my ears bleeding now. Yikes. Plus I could use a spoiler and tinting, the works. But first, perhaps I should get a new muffler. It sounds pretty damn TOUGH right now though. And yeah, a tune-up, perhaps some winter tires... Winter tires are needed. It wouldn't do me any good to have an awesome stereo if I was dead by the side of the road. But at least I'd die happy!!!!! Because "one good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain." (Bob Marley?) Ok, so no pimpin is gonna happen in the near future...

ANYways...

Enjoy the Ozzy Ozmunds if you find yourself at the Urban Lounge this weekend:(


Unwritten Law - She Says

You didn't just EAT that...

I get a bit giddy when I successfully sucker people in with a practical joke. A while ago I got a great idea for a joke, but hadn’t executed it… Until NOW. Wah ha ha ha ha ha!

I always thought that refried black beans look just like poo. And I thought that putting them in some sort of cake decorating tube and squeezing it out into a coiler on the floor would be an awesome practical joke. And get this, a couple of nights ago I was eating Mexican food and my roommate wasn’t home yet… Opportunity knocks!

Well, I couldn’t find any kind of a cake tube so I had to improvise with saran wrap and ended up making a fairly convincing-looking log on the floor in front of the fridge. It had to be just right because my roomie works at a vet clinic and would be able to spot a fakie a mile away. I went and sat back at my computer when she arrived home. It took a few minutes for her to notice, and then (paraphrasing from what I remember):

D: What is that? Is that a joke? Did one of the cats… is that throw-up or poo???? What is it!!!???
Me: What the? Where?

I get up to check out the scene. Of course, I already know what I"m about to find. She’s still going on about what it might be.

D: It looks too big for poo…

[Dammit!]

Me: Oh man, that looks like poo to me. Eewww!

I lean down and sniff at it.

Me: Hmmmm. I can't smell if it's poo...

I’m still bent over inspecting it and then I reach down and scoop a little bit off with my finger and put it up to my nose to smell it.

Me: Hmmm… doesn’t really smell like poo.

The whole time she was watching I couldn’t look at her, which is too bad because I would have LOVED to see the look on her face after the next part.

Then I licked it off my finger.

D: You didn’t just EAT that…

At this point she starts to laugh and I’m starting to giggle a little too.

Me: Hmmm. It doesn’t taste like poo.

Just as she’s at the height of disbelief, I reach down, grab the whole log, pick it up and take a bite out of it.

Me: Actually, it tastes like refried beans!!!!

By this time she was actually ON THE GROUND laughing. I was laughing too. She told me that when I touched it and smelled my finger, she didn’t think that was TOO weird because her sister makes her smell things all the time… but when I tasted it, oh my.

I still laugh every time I hear her words in my head, "You didn't just EAT that…"