HipHop Flop

Some of you have been inquiring as to how the hiphop classes are going.

Let's just say, I should've worn a disguise to the first class. That way, if I ever run into any of these people in the real world, I won't have to run the other direction in order to avoid the judgment and ridicule.

Aren't some people just assholes?

Apparently Isaiah Washington called T.R. Knight a f@&&*# on the set of Grey's Anatomy. Supposedly Isaiah is in counselling right now to figure out why he would do such a thing (story here).

I'm wondering, though... Aren't some people just assholes? Should they seek counselling for this "disorder"?

If assholes need counselling for being assholes then there aren't enough psychologists in the world to handle all the work that needs to be done!

Oh, and what names can you call someone without requiring therapy? Can you call a girl a cow? But what if she's really really hurt and offended? How about bitch? Is that ok? I think so, because they do it on TV all the time. That makes it ok of course. But maybe if you called her a c!*#, then you should apologize to women's groups everywhere and seek therapy?

Oh geez, I'm confused. And I'm an arse sometimes too. Right now actually. In fact, this whole entry was quite aggressive. Good on ya Isaiah, for realizing you're an a-hole and exploring why. I should probably look into that myself. Too bad I can't afford psychotherapy. Anyone want to donate? C'mon, I must have scorned someone out there? Anyone?

Disclaimer#1: I'm in no way endorsing all the asses out there or name-calling or the f- or c- word. Not even when driving. Ok maybe when driving, just because they can't hear you. Road rage- not okay though.

Disclaimer#2: I'm also not indicating in any way that I'm as much of a dillhole as that guy Isaiah or anyone else, or comparing anyone to any other buttwad out there or saying anyone is more or less of an assface than anyone else, or saying it's ok in any way, shape or form to be a complete jerkmonger to anyone, even a total farthead.

Disclaimer#3: If you purposely call someone a name (i.e. 'idiot') but didn't mean it because it was done simply for the sole purpose of making a point and/or getting a few laughs, then it doesn't count.

Coming out... of the front closet

Yep, these are my ski goggles, circa about 1993.

I'm pretty embarrassed by them. I even LIED to a guy I was dating last year and told him I didn't have any goggles so I could borrow his and never ever have to let him see them. I'm sure he would've gotten quite the kick out of 'em. And even though he was quite a bit younger than me and he knew my age, I didn't need to give him any unnecessary ammo.

But I'm finally coming out. Yes, I admit that these are my goggles. Now I'm trying to decide if I should wear them or buy a new pair. They always worked well, but let's just say that they don't quite 'match' the rest of my outfit. Not that the rest of me matches, mind you.

Plus retro is "in" now, right? I mean, if the one piece skisuits are back then why can't I wear my neon goggles?

I don't mind being a goof sometimes, but around some people, maybe, just maybe, sometimes, I don't wanna be a total joke.

Ah what the hell, let them laugh.

Seemed like a good idea at the time.

I watched Van Wilder again the other night. Haha. "Don't be a fool, stay in school." He was in school for 7 years. He came to the realization, thanks to meeting the blonde hottie who would change his life, that he'd been putting off growing up. He buckled down after that and finally graduated!!! Hmm. I think I may have just discovered the real reason I'm still in school. I haven't met my blonde hottie yet!!!

It seemed like a good idea at the time... That's the chorus of an OK Go song, and it could be the motto of my life. I seriously think through all of my decisions, very thoroughly, and there's always a fairly rational reason for why I do what I do. Err, at the time it seemed that way, but looking back... Woops.

Oh man, I just noticed that I'm not the first one to get the idea of imitating that backyard dancing routine (for reference, see the end of the Dance Classes! post). Check these out: Ok Go Dance Contest. I guess it wouldn't be the first time I had an original idea that someone else thought of first.

Uh yeah, I'm working on spreadsheets right now by the way... NOT watching videos! Ok so I got a bit sidetracked there. All I can say is if it wasn't for listening to music while I work on this nightmare heap of data, I would've gone off the deep end LONG ago (rather than treading water in the shallow end, as I am right now, barely... tiring out a bit now, gurgle choke cough).

Have an awesome weekend! Yay, the Ozzy Ozmunds are ripping out some tunes at Urban Lounge! I think it's high time to exercise some stress management techniques, complete with a little help from our friend, El Mojito. It seems like a really good idea right now, doesn't it?

Do you get it... or are you offended?

You know your reputation can't get any worse when the fast food industry gets offended!

K-Fed with fries offends fast food industry

Good Lord. I don't see why people hate the guy though, I really don't feel either way about the dude.

At the end of the article, the Nationwide vice-president of advertising and brand management Steven Schreibman says:

"We're not making fun of anybody, except maybe Kevin Federline...

Where humour is involved, there is always someone who doesn't get it."

True dat Steven, true dat.

I admire K-Fed for having a sense of humour about what a loser he's become in the public eye. That's pretty much the only thing that will work for him at this point. And hey, take it from me, a little self-deprecation for the sake of a few guffaws is fun. Uh, but I think you noticed that.

For EVERY Body?

I have one small, err, large problem. I'm all the things on this list except 'petite'. How can a pair of jeans fix THAT?

We went to lululemon to try to find some hotpants for the hiphop class. Even lulu can't make this pillow ass look good. I did find some baggy sweatpants there though. You could say they were expensive, for mere sweatpants. However, hiding my real butt from the world is worth it.

Money saved on not having a gym membership: $300 per annum
Baggy sweatpants from lululemon: $67
Sufficiently disguised pillow-ass: Priceless

Caffeine Intoxication

I just ate all the chocolate-covered coffee beans in my desk. They were kept there for one reason: emergency situations of extreme drowsiness. Now I've eaten them in a fit of boredom-inspired quest for instant gratification. It was no emegency. I had a huge coffee at breakfast and lunch. I now await the symptoms of caffeine overdose to set in. According to Wikipedia, these may include:

*restlessness
*nervousness
*excitement
*insomnia
*flushing of the face
*increased urination
*gastrointestinal disturbance
*muscle twitching
*a rambling flow of thought and speech
*irregular or rapid heart beat
*psychomotor agitation

So really, not that different than when I'm around a hot guy. Not a good combination to have when on a date with a hot guy though. However, I can handle it. My years of Toastmasters training has taught me to fake it/supress most of these symptoms.

That gastrointestinal disturbance thing is a little bit scary though, and I would imagine, somewhat difficult to supress. Yikes.

Apparently psychomotor agitation is a "series of unintentional and purposeless motions that stem from mental tension of an individual. This includes pacing around a room, wringing one's hands, pulling off clothing and putting it back on, masturbating and other similar actions." Yep, sounds like pre-hot date behaviour. Oh except masturbation, that may be good for releasing tension for men, but for women there's really no point to it when you're really tense. We all know that a woman has to be 'in the zone' in order for anything to happen down there. If we're distracted... well... put it this way, masturbating is done for one purpose and one purpose only, and if that isn't attainable then what's the point? It's not like non-climax foreplay with yourself is that much fun after all.

Err, uh, so I've heard from discussions with my friends.

Wow, I really got off track there for a bit. Sometimes I go on and on about things that don't make sense tto the outsied world. And thatt was a little grappphic too. Getting a little embrassed think about it. Oh geez, now I'm not felling so welll. It's sooo hot in heere. I'm so fidgety thaatt I keep mking typos, my heaart is abot to jup outta m chestt... Annnd uh...

gotttaa gogo. NoWW. ..

Image is... Everything.

Remember those Sprite commercials, the ones with the mantra: Image Is Nothing? God, that is such a bunch of bull. Paris Hilton has made a career out of her image. Makeover shows play on how bad people looked in their 'before' pictures and how good they look in their 'after' shots. It always amazes me how bad good-looking people can look. Here are just a few examples:




In high school I looked like Ugly Betty but wanted to look like Elle MacPherson... but I didn't quite know how to pull that off! I'm quite happy now to be somewhere in between. Some days more Betty, some days with just a glimmer of Elle (hahaha, ok could happen). She's turning 44 this year by the way. WOW. Check it out here.

Can't do anything right...

This article had me cracking up. Perhaps it just struck me in exactly the right way that day.

Study: Depression Hits Losers Hardest

PALO ALTO, CA-According to a report released Monday by Stanford's Institute For Psychotherapeutic Study, depression, America's leading mental illness, hits losers worse than any other segment of society.

I don't know... It's pretty harsh. I suppose that's satire for ya. But parts of it were funny, this bit in particular:

"The depressed patient suffers from severe, delusional feelings of worthlessness," the study read. "But through therapy, the majority of those people are able to overcome their depression by slowly discovering that these negative beliefs are not true. In the case of losers, however, such negative self-images are not delusional, but instead reflect the truth about their lack of worth. This makes the loser's chances of suffering depression far more likely, and their prognosis for recovery slim to none."

I myself, tend to run in the opposite direction. If I wasn't delusional, perhaps I'd be more depressed! Dammit, I'm no loser! Ah well, optimism keeps me hoping that people will love me anyways.

"The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved -- loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves." -Victor Hugo

Everything comes down to poo

In the comedy turned musical episode of Scrubs last night, there was one song that stood out for me: Everything Comes Down To Poo. The lyrics were so classic, Jen grabbed me a pen and paper so that I could scribble them down. I started to jot them down, but just ended up writing a note to Jen. It read:

Everything comes down to poo.

From the top of
I was unable to finish this - without a computer keyboard I am absolutely, completely, 100% useless!

If you're wondering why I would want the lyrics to the poo song, the reasons are four fold:

1) Rose likes poo. If I emailed the song, it would make her 2x happier than it made me.
(Phew, too much writing already - cramping up.)
2) I want to learn the song and sing it while I'm working, or visiting my parents. It's sure to make my mom say, "you're sick."
3) I wanted to make a parody of that song. Everyone loves a good parody.
4) I have a running blog post on poo. Fodder required.

God I love when I say that something is four fold, and it turns out to be true - it was totally just a wild guess...

Ok, so truthfully, that #3 is a bunch of bull. Everyone knows you can't make a parody of a parody. That'd be like doing a cover of a cover. Lame. #4 is true though. It was originally part of my Ramblings on Research series - "Stool Studies". Icky icky poo poo. Thank GOD I don't do stool studies. Never made it to print though.

Anyways, I found the poo song on YOUTUBE. Enjoy it here.

Dance Classes!

Hiphop dance class starts next week! I told Jen that we should take a 'before' and an 'after' video to see how much we've improved (this video does not count as a 'before'). I think it would be prudent. She doesn't think there would be much difference... So then, Jensies, why are we taking a class!?! There'd better be a difference, I need tools. My moves need an overhaul.

I'm hoping there will be people like this in the dance class. Maybe it will be a shirts-optional class. In that video he's doing something called krumping. Here's another video of this unusual dance style, I like that one. It's like someone put the settings of a dancing robot to 'high speed' and 'random'. This type of dancing comes totally natural to me, in fact, I've probably done it unknowingly many times. Totally freestyle. Don't need to take a class for that shit. The most common form in my repertoire would probably be a combo of Goofy and Fight (see below), particularly when someone approaches me on the dance floor. I've also heard it referred to as "Flailing." Sometimes they don't even have to approach me on the dance floor, even in the middle of the bar I'll throw the moves out. It's my prophylaxis. Uh, or perhaps theirs...

According to Wikipedia, various styles of krumping include:

• Goofy: Pioneered by the krump practitioner "Goofy" himself. It is the least aggressive of the krump styles, usually funny and energetic.
• Beasty :Aggressive, beast-like and powerful. It is similar to bully but more animalistic
• Grimey: Dirty, mistrating and "wrong"
• Flashy:Using a lot of foot movement and quick sharp, precise and showy moves.
• Cocky: Stuck up and conceited
• Bully :Aggressive and powerful
• Tricks:Using a combination of moves
• Fight : Fake fighting
• Fast: Quick, fast and energetic movements

Geez, I hope I don't get kicked out of the class for making the instructor laugh, like Nate did from his aerobics class. Haha, that kills me. The instructor made him leave because he wasn't able to keep up and she kept cracking up. But I'm like that in aerobics too; just cannot follow. Hmmm, this class could be interesting.

I still think Jen and I should perfect the moves in this Ok Go video and bust them out at Urban sometime. That would be classic. They'd be like, "Sheesh, who let the pros in? They're totally making us all look bad." I bet our hiphop instructor would be very very impressed.

Short-term gain for long-term pain

It's becoming more and more evident that my strategy for losing the Christmas poundage is to get rid of all the treats in my house. And by "get rid of" I mean, "eat as much of it as possible."

Now, the only way this plan can possibly work would be to get the stuff out of my face as soon as possible so that I'm not tempted by it later. It's all about instant gratification for the purposes of long-term gain. Wait a second... what type of gain are we speaking of here? Err, maybe it's actually short-term gain in exchange for long-term... PAIN.

Sheeeite. This is gonna hurt.

Abort plan! Put DOWN the cookies! Get AWAY from the chocolate! Don't touch that cake!!!

Awwww geez. There were some perks on that plan.

Cheers to the cultural learnings of Sacha!

Have you seen Borat yet? It is truly a laugh-all-the-way-through-it movie. Sacha Baron Cohen won a Golden Globe last night for Best Actor in a Musical or Comedy. I'm not quite sure how musicals and comedies get lumped into the same category, but whatever. Mr. Cohen's acceptance speech had to be one of the funniest I've ever heard. In his speech he referred to the crazy naked wrestling match he had with his fat co-star in Borat. This is a part in the movie that had me covering my eyes and muttering 'oh my God!' over and over again.



For most of you who undoubtedly missed it, here is part of Sacha's Golden Globe award acceptance speech:

… And I just wanna say, this movie was a life-changing experience. I saw some amazing, beautiful invigorating parts of America, but I saw some dark parts of America, an ugly side of America, a side of America that rarely sees the light of day. I refer of course, to the anus and testicles of my costar Ken Davitian…

Ken as I… When I was in that scene and I stared down and saw your two wrinkled Golden Globes on my chin, I thought to myself, I’d better win a bloody award for this.

And then when my 300 pound co-star decided to sit on my face, and squeezed the oxygen from my lungs, I was faced with a choice: death, or to breathe in the air… from… breathe in the air that had been trapped in a small pocket between his buttocks for 30 years. Kenneth, if it was not for that rancid bubble, I would not be here today.

And finally, at the end he added, "Thank you to every American who has not sued me so far."

Too funny.

See video here.

A Night Out in Oil Country

Normally I don't tend to post on the weekend... Perhaps I'm procrastinating. But Motha-F what a night on Friday. Yep, trouble found me and I was quivering in the corner by the end of it all. A friend of mine invited me out to the Oilers game- seemed like a good, fairly affordable night out on the town. But the fun wound up being a bit... stifled.

First of all, I brought my new toy along (camera). Oh yes, that baby fit in my bag and wasn't confiscated when we were searched on the way into the building. All was good. I was having a great time taking pix with the 12x optical zoom, on sports mode. Mostly, I was just playing around, hoping there would be a fight I could catch mid-swing or some other photo-worthy carnage. Check this out, first on regular and then on zoom.





That's the FAR net... Cool eh?

Anyways, pretty soon security interupted my photo-orgy. She asked if I was taking video. No (ok I took a short clip). She said it was a professional-looking camera with an awfully large lens and wondered for what purposes I taking photos. I told her that it wasn't a professional camera and it was for personal use only. We quibbled for a bit and she finally left me alone. Although my fun had been snuffed out somewhat, at least the camera wasn't confiscated and I wasn't kicked out of the colliseum! Later, I saw the kid beside me with a big foam puck on his head taking photos with his compact camera. What the? He didn't get hounded by security! I guess size does matter, at least when it comes to camera lenses and female security guards.

Then the annoying guy behind me asked if I'd please sit back because I was blocking his view. So not only was I paying $7.50 for beer, unable to play with my camera, scrunched in these tiny seats with no leg room, I also had to lean back and not move... Krike. Again, no one said anything to puckhead boy beside me. Surely the ginormous puck on his lid must have been obscuring people's views! Maybe I should have informed the guy behind me that his cheesy comments were ruining the game for me! Huh, HUH? Did he stop to think about that? Ohhhh Nooooo.

Here are some examples of the constant cheesefest I had to endure...

When talking about one of the players:
Where did it go? (other person: What?) Your career!

A player gets checked against the boards:
Chicklets anyone? Chicklets???

Bad call:
Refeerrreeeees- Puuuhleeeease!

Talking about that store 'San Francisco':
It's like cheap cotton at San Francisco. That's why when you buy a joke t-shirt there, it shrinks and shit. 'Cause the joke's on us.

Haha, ok that last one made me half smirk.

After the game I was trying to take a pic of Marilyn and I with my camera. Several men stopped to ask if we wanted them to take our picture for us. No thanks. Later I mentioned that the pic may have worked out better if I'd let someone take it for us. Marilyn gave me shit, "Like the cute guy who wanted to take our picture? No, apparently she wants to do it herself!!!" Oops. Just like everything else in my life, apparently. There's a message in there I think. Man, I'm such a meathead.

Later on that night I met some other friends for a drink. It was good fun, but then I got back to my car to find the driverside window smashed. Nothing was stolen, but I wasn't impressed. Geez, if only I'd caught them in the act, I could have grabbed my camera and taken their photo! That zoom on sports mode would have definitely caught them running away! Oh who am I kidding, they would have been around the corner by the time I'd fumbled around with the thing! Anyways, the drive home was quite chilly. In the end, a fun affordable night on the town ended up being a wee bit painful. I should've known not to go to Whyte Ave after an Oil game!!!

The Brand New Toy

No no no, not THAT kind of toy you pervert! On Wednesday I got a new camera!!! A Canon Powershot S3 IS. Sah-weeeeeet!However, it was so fricken cold out on Thursday that I wasn't able to venture out to play. There's not much to photograph in my house. Hence this mess:

Not too exciting, I know. That pic of myself kills me. I look bonafide crazy! (Photographs do steal your soul after all!) Ok so I also managed a couple of outdoor pictures. At -24 degrees, these photos were snapped at lightning speed. You see, any exposed limb turns black, shrivels and falls off in mere seconds, so I had to muster up as much quick-twitch muscle stength as I could.

I did catch the sunset though... First on 6x zoom, then on 12x zoom. Not bad for a first outting. Hmm, maybe I should change my ways and actually read the instructions on this thing.



Thanks ma, I'm gonna love this camera until the day I break it!!!

My New Look

So I have a new look for the new year... I revamped my blog! I hope you like it. I had fun picking colours, fonts and adding photos.

The photos are ones that Rose took while I was in Halifax last year, oops, the year before. God time flies! I played with the colours and cropping on the oceanscape above. The bottom one is me with my own camera snapping photos... we were trying to catch ocean spray. It was a pretty neat day. Oh how I love the ocean!

Oh, I'm also working on a new look for myself for the new year. Thought maybe I'd try to dress a bit more girly, just a bit. Baby steps. Maybe I could throw on the odd skirt, not shy away from being an amazon woman in heels once in a while, or even show more skin than the usual t-shirt. Not ho, just feminine. Who knows.

Truthfully, I've been looking butt ugly this year so far. I look sooo tired. I remember several years ago, I had a boyfriend who was quite a few years younger. He said that sometimes he'd get patients into his office and he'd notice that they were the same age as me and he couldn't believe it. He said they all looked so.... and he paused a minute... TIRED. Well, perhaps I've now caught up to my age group. Uh, not knocking my same-age friends on this though- they all look fantastic of course!

Blah blah blah. Now I'm rambling. I have stuff to do, like nap perhaps? Try to wipe this tired look off my face. Hope ya like the new look of my blog anyways...

Seeing Red

Those *Red Drinks went down like wildfire.

After several, this is a close rendition of how I was seeing everything that night!



*Red Drink = Gin + Soda + Cranberry Cocktail.

Ingredients listed in order of quantity.

Use at your own risk. The site administrator assumes no responsibility for those individuals stupid enough to drink this potion in large quantities or on an empty stomach. May cause loss of vision and/or coordination, indiscretionary behaviour and vomitting. If unconsciousness occurs, please seek medical assistance immediately.

The Manpurse

Jo: Nate, can I ask you personal question?

Suddenly Nate wondered if someone had spilled his deepest darkest secrets to the girl who used to be known as “The Grapevine.”

Nate: Go ahead, shoot Jo.

Jo: What’s with the manpurse Nate?

You see, lately Nate’s been carrying a manpurse. Ok, it’s a bag, but technically it’s still a purse. Don’t get me wrong; it’s fairly masculine, almost cool in a hippyesque kind of way… That is, cool in the same sense that Nate’s kilt is cool, you don’t see that every day in these parts. It’s got all the features of a kilt but it’s not tartan, so you end up wondering if it’s a kilt or a skirt. But hey, at The Black Dog anything goes. That’s what we love about it… and about Nate.

Turns out that Jo wasn’t as curious about WHY Nate carried a purse as she was about what was IN the purse. It appeared to be totally empty. Boys don’t tend to carry makeup, hair brushes/product or, ahem, feminine protection so... WHAT WAS IN IT!?!

He wouldn't reveal. Alas, the manpurse shall forever remain a mystery.

You go girl! But please shut the door behind you...

This morning on Sonic, Garner Andrews was talking about things that happen on TV or in movies that drive us nuts. I must say, the number one thing for me is that people never close doors behind them when they walk into a room... This is particularly true in sitcoms, especially older sitcoms. Why do they never shut the door!?!

That fake pizza bugs me too. It's often at the end of the show, usually featuring a group of 20-somethings. They're always laughing and talking the whole time in a feel-good kind of way, passing the pizza around... And then someone finally takes a bite of the shit (it's literally cardboard slathered with tomato sauce! And they keep laughing and talking, acting like it's NOT cardboard... now that's great acting)! I'm sure that the cameras have to cut away ASAP because the person has to go upchuck the stuff.

One girl called in to the radio about how whenever women are in bed on TV, they're always wearing nice lingerie and have their hair done up with full make-up on. I've totally noticed that! Can't they make it somewhat realistic??? At least tone it down a bit, add a zit or a purple circle or two under the eyes. On the opposite end of the spectrum -- I noticed on sitcoms that feature older ladies/wives -- they're always in bed wearing long sleeve shirts and PJ bottoms. I guess at some point they shed the lingerie in favour of a complete head-to-toe cover-up? Are aging peoples' bodies that unworthy of exposure? Weird. Even the men wear full-on PJs. C'mon, lots of men sleep naked! A little gratuitous skin for the sake of a little realism is in order here!!!

Oops, there I go again slipping into the nudity rant. Sorry.

Speaking of older ladies... I saw the movie Snowcake on the weekend. Carrie-Anne Moss was stunningly beautiful, wearing very little make-up and fully clothed throughout the movie. And she turns 40 this year! You go girl! I guess you don't have to be a scantilly clad young thang to be very sexy.

Sign interpretations...

Hey- To all you meatheads who stop at this sign before driving on the high level bridge:
This is not a stop, yield or even a merge sign, it's a FREE FLOW sign!
It means that you have your OWN LANE and don't need to stop... duh.


Phew! Got that out of the way.
Now let's look at some other traffic signs, and their possible interpretations...


This one blinks above my head some days.


We should all see this sign in bold letters as we come shooting out the birth canal,
before we embark on that crazy road trip we call 'life'.

These are the nap times of some people I know.

Description of many people's first sexual encounter...
and for some, of many more to come.

The mailman keeps trying to deliver this sign to my house.
What the?
I keep telling him he's got the wrong address but he keeps coming back...
He's quite young and very cute though, so I don't mind so much.

Girls, let's raise the bar!

I think I’ve discovered why women can have some pretty low standards when it comes to dating and relationships. What do women talk about when they get into their pow-wow formations? They exchange war stories! There’s a lot of talk about ‘his did this’ or ‘he did that’ and then group speculation and avid debate about whether that’s acceptable and whether she should kick his ass to the curb or not.

Face it, these stories are usually not of the warm-fuzzy variety.

What happens is that we start to lower the bar due to a contrast effect with our friends’ horror stories. (Incidentally, I think the contrast effect works the other way around for men… since they don’t tend to talk to each other, they end up comparing their girl/relationship to a totally unreasonable rendition of an ideal relationship, i.e. some combination of pure porn fantasy and Hollywood-type romance.)

So here is how it generally plays out... When something unsavoury happens to us (i.e. get stood up) - our mode of comparison is "Janie" (who’s man didn’t just stand her up, he stood her up on her birthday) and "Melanie" (who’s hubby also stood her up, but did so because he was cheating on her with another woman)! Suddently a simple/innocentish misunderstanding doesn’t seem so bad. I mean, all his excuses sounded completely legit… Ahem.

Just think if us girls exchanged the BEST stories ever about our current and past loves… Just think of what our current guy would have to live up to! Then, if he served us disappointment sandwiches from the get-go, we’d know right away that the guy is a hopeless case (perhaps just a bad cook by nature) and not even worth a chance! Huck that disppointment sandwich and the guy who made it, and go get yourself a 5 star chef.

A good example of this was my one friend who used to always complain about her boyfriend (now husband) to me. I was always hearing the crap about him and wondered why the heck she stayed in this miserable relationship. This is what girls do; they only whine and complain about their relationship, and we really hear about it when it’s to the point of MAYDAY MAYDAY! I finally said, "Please PLEASE tell me SOMETHING good about him and your relationship" because I was about two horror stories away from hunting him down and giving him a VERY STERN talking-to, that might have involved either torture or paying him off to leave her alone. She proceeded to tell me quite a few stories sweet things he’d done… And it was nice to hear, but then I begged her to stop! It was sickeningly sweet. Seriously, I think I threw up a little in my mouth.

However, amidst my green-ish haze, I found a glimmer of hope. That's right, HOPE.

Girls, we need to raise the bar. And that bar needs to be somewhere between complete jackass and over-the-top, totally unrealistic Hollywood love story.

Uneventful

As soon as I got back from Calgary I HAD to do two things- get groceries and wash my car.

Grocery shopping- uneventful. Though I have to admit that I'm a grocery-looker. I always check out what people are buying. There are times when I have to avert my gaze and pick my jaw up off the floor standing there in line. One guy seriously had this- spam, ground beef, 2 pkgs hot dogs, 1 gallon ice cream and 3 loaves of bread. What the? And this is not uncommon for single men to buy! Can you say recipe for a heart attack?

How did I know he was single you ask? Well, because he was ugly! Hahaha... sorry, that came from a joke my brother told me over the holidays. I shouldn't repeat jokes he tells because then I look bad. But they are usually kind of funny in an un-PC way.

Carwash- also uneventful. It had to be done. My car was one big salt block. Calgary roads are like driving on concentrated saline solution mixed with mud. My car was soooo salty that I got dehydrated just sitting in it. Bighorn sheep came down from the mountains just to lick it.

As I sprayed my car, I saw an SUV pull in that was spotless. Good Lord. Are people so weird that they have to wash cars that are already clean? I watched the guy step out of his shining vehicle, and he was kind of cute. Then I thought to myself, I don't care if he looked all like Brad Pitt-like and whispered sweet nothings in my ear, I'd have to respond, "Thanks but no thanks... Freak." No, he wouldn't be obsessive-complusive AT ALL. Stay away from that shit, far far away.

... Like that would happen anyways. Oops, daydreaming again.

Blah blah blah. I think I'll go back to not blogging. Or maybe I'll go take off my crankypants and put on something charming. C'mon, I can be charming! Hmm, maybe tomorrow.

Still 'out of it'...

Good Lord, I'm still on vacation. Should be back on the bandwagon this week sometime. It's been awesome catching up with everyone and not reading anything to do with triglycerides or fatty acids.

In the meantime, you could check out some of my old blog posts. There's certainly enough of them!!! I still get comments from people, "If only you spent as much time on your thesis as your blog, you would've been done years ago!"

Then I make them regret the day they were born.

ANNNNYWAYYYS. Speaking of old posts, I referred to one recently in a conversation with one of my friends. She was telling me about a guy she used to date. I asked if he was a good kisser and she went on to describe how he kissed. I said, "Oh! You mean 'The Happy German Sheppard'!?!" And we both laughed, because she knows darn well about my post on Kissing Styles. Maybe that would be a good old post to check out... at least, until I get my holiday-expanded arse in gear on this blog again.