And another thing.....

Bachelorettes Gone Wild

The. Funniest. Shit. Ever.

At first it's amusing. Then it's gets funny. then it gets fucking hilarious. then everything you say all day ends up coming out in that rhythm. Then it's over, BETCH!

thanks for showing me the light Adri:)

A Treatise on Britney Spears

So yesterday was the big Britney Spears Speaks Out interview on Dateline. I know, I know, she’s a little, dare I say loopy. She needs new hair extensions, her shirt was too low-cut and her chunky flip flops were circa 1995. Oh and let’s not forget the big glob of mascara that was on the tip of her eyelashes for the whole 60 minute interview. But I digress, despite all these outward and painfully obvious shortcomings, I still love my Britney.

***For some reason the blogger Add Image button isn't working. Imagine, if you will, a photo of Britney where she is smiling that geeky wide smile she does oh so well.



And not in that I-love-watching-monster-trucks-crash-into-each-other way or I-love-slowing-down-by-car-accidents-to-see-if-I-can-spot-any-blood way either. I love her for her quirky sense of logic. ( “ I Married Jason Alexander because I was missing a sense of home;…..It was a mistake…But I have no regrets.”) I love her for her defiant resolve to not look pretty for the paparazzi. ( “ I still go out in curlers. I go out for walks in my pyjamas. You have to. You can’t let them control how you live.”) I love her for her stubborn, childish explanations of past blunders. (The paparazzi was really impactful….They were surrounding me and my baby…They were shouting things. I had to get my baby out of there. I tripped on the cobblestone street. It happens… I made a mistake… I will make millions more. I am human.) I love her for her weird contradictions. She does an in-depth interview on TV to tell the people that the paparazzi are out of control. Isn’t that a bit like dangling a piece of meat in front of a rapid dog? She says that people are too-obsessed with her relationship with her husband, Kevin Federline. Well, then was it really a good idea to launch a reality show about your courtship, Britney?


****This is where I was going to post that photo of Britney where she's all blubering, and her mascara is running and her face is all red.



Okay, Okay. Maybe now I’m starting to sound like I don’t like Britney. Like I am ragging on her. Well, there seems to be definite room for improvement with this girl. But even if she stayed the way she is I would be happy; as long as she is happy. And you know what? Right now she’s seems very unhappy. Maybe there are easier ways for her to be happy ( IE dump her husband; get a makeover; get back with Justin), but it seems like Britney is in defiant mode and she will not relax until she gets what she wants HER WAY.

It’s doesn’t bother me. Sure I miss the ole Britney. But I also miss the old me that used to be able to party 4 nights a week and survive a semester of 300-level English courses on a diet or ramen noodles and Diet Coke. But times change. People change. I still enjoy hearing about nice Britney things. How she’s like “My Baby is my Religion.” How she wears those funny t-shirts that say I’m with stoopid and the arrow is pointing at some random paparazzo that’s chasing her. How she said that she enjoys getting fat and eating cheetos now that she’s pregnant. How she got Chinese food take-out delivered to the Delivery room when she had her baby Sean Preston. How the new Muse single “Supermassive Black Hole” totally bites on the Britney hit “Do Something."

I like it. Bumps and bruises and all. She’s like a slightly bruised apple. You’re not going to throw away the whole apple, right? No. You just cut around the bruise and use the apple in a salad or apple cobbler. Maybe the apple isn’t eaten in the way you intended, but it’s still good. It still has worth. And bruises heal, right? Well, actually I guess bruised apples don’t heal, but I think you see where I am headed here. I never said metaphors were my forte.

Viva la Britney!

I read Douglas Coupland's J-Pod and I all I got was the feeling that I'm not quite "with it"

It's one of my biggest pet peeves, you know. When writers incorporate obscure references or inside jokes into their writing as a way of making themselves seem smarter than they are. Music reviewers are notorious for doing this. It makes me feel like I'm not cool enough to read this. Like there's something wrong with me because I can't pick out the letter o from 10 pages of random numberals from 1-0. It's so annoying. It's so conceited. It's so lazy. It's so Douglas Coupland's new book, J-pod.

I had big hopes for this book, you know. I guess because i've loved all of Douglas Coupland's other works and I felt like he was a nice guy because when he did a signing for his Terry Fox book, he didn't mind that I had just my old Hey Nostradamus book and not the new book he was promoting for him to sign. Also I hadn't read a good book in a while. I'd been reading a lot, mind you. But since the whole James Frey A million Pieces debacle, I haven't really been excited about reading a new book. Until J-pod.

Maybe that's why I happily shelled out $30 for a hardcover edition of the new book the week it came out.
But pretty early into the book I realized that while it followed the same tried and true Coupland formula of using average-joe type young people who get suckered into the weird situations that have always been regulated to old wives tales and urban legends; there was a twist and not good one. This time Doug decided to incorporate about 100 pages of weird drivel. Like 5 full pages of prime numbers; like 20 pages of random oversized text that doesn't relate to the narrative; like a boring plot twist that turns Douglas Coupland into a character in his own novel. ( how self-reflexsive; how self-aware; how self-CENTRED).

This book was not terrible. But it was not good either. Take my advice Doug: go back to writing about what you know: young people dreading the apocalypse and pop-culture references that everyone undertstands and appreciates. No more weird Japanese crap! No more recycling your old books.

Thanks!

Dear Tai, Cher would be like, soo proud.....

Am I the only one who can barely belive that this girl, in all her dumpy, overly-eager glory has trasnformed from ugly duckling, to coke-out whore, to the D-listed, teen version on Meg Ryan to an actual campy and glorious singer?




It's weird. But somehow hypnotic. And the song is catchy as hell.
And for some inexplicable reason, I feel like a proud mama, like a proud Cher when she unveiled Tai in her apres make-over glory to the class and all the boys were all over her including her ex-stepbrother, ( Paul Rudd before he got a little chub and wrinkly) which made her jealous, because now she had like created a monster or something as everyone was talking about Tai instead of her and now she had the hotts for her ex-step-brother. But I digress.

I love this song. I love Clueless. I love Cher.
The End.

Music...makes the people.. come together......

Sometimes a borring office job has it's perks. There's the ability to email your freinds and plans your weekend all day long. There's the option to spend 3 hours discussing what you should eat for lunch with your one co-worker. There's an unlimited supply of Canada Springs water and endless opportunities to flush your system. And there's days like today where I can upload fun new music to my mp3 player.

Here are my new (to me) favourite tracks this week:

Stellastarr* - Sweet, troubled soul.

Artic Monkeys - A Certain Romance

The Knife - Heartbeats.

The Rentals - Friends with P. (F.Y.I. This is my new theme song. Be forewarned).


Yah!! I love new music on my mp3 player! WOO HOO! Feel free to leave your new favourite songs. NO oldies!!!

Help a Dorky Canadian Brother out...

Okay, okay. I guess this is all all fraud. My tirade againist the immorial Inernet was all but in vain. Whatevs.

www.dlisted.blogspot.com





Oh, Internet. You are so coy. First you let that girl sell her virginity on E-bay. Then you let that sleazy TMZ site post a video of two 8 year-olds going at it. Oh and let's not forget the malestorm that is the mail-order brides phenomenon. Now there's this guy Geoff. Geoff is 25. Geoff is a virgin. Geoff's 'friend' that happens to be soem hot blonde, has agreed to de-virginize him if he gets 5 million hits on his site in the month of May. www.avirginsplea.com

He's already at 3.1 million.

Who knew the Internet could help a lonely virgin get laid by some pretty girl; whose next step will no doubt be sexing the poor, hungry virgins in Africa.

And you thought Paris Hilton was the sign of the apolcaylse.

Current Mood: Fed Up

Currently Listening to: Gnarls barkley.

A little late

I may be about 3 months late on this letter, but as everyone knows I never get over stuff and I love to surf the net. So here's my ode to my last pitiful relationship courtesy of the break-up letter genarator.

Dear Dave;
Not a day passes that you don't tell me how important I am or how much you love me, but those are just words. What I need are actions that convey how you can't live without me and would do anything to keep me. I need someone shit-house, loony-bin, arsonist crazy about me-- willing to do anything and everything to keep me. Dave, that's just not you. While it does feel like you love me, it's not a smothering, obsessive, borderline psychotic love. Its more of an unneurotic, trusting, agape love with luke-warm infatuation at best. There's no jealousy, no vindicitiveness, no sense of possession. For christ sake, you haven't even given me a cell phone so you can call me when you need something important--like knowing where I am all the time. Trust is nice, but is paranoia too much to ask in a relationship?
Honestly, Dave, in the 2 weeks that we have been together, how many times have you bashed a beer bottle over the head of some asshole who made eye contact with me or accidentally brushed against me as they passed? Or peppersprayed an overfriendly sales clerk? I'll tell you how many times--the same number of times you carved my name into your arms with a razor blade and got it tatooed in cursive on your neck---none. You never talk of ending your life in a world without me. Sure, you'd probably cry over it, be heartbroken for a month, but that's not good enough. The guy for me would call, start crying and begging to get back together. When that didn't work he'd threaten me, immediately apologize, and offer me money, jewelry, or anything else I wanted to get back with him. When, I still rebuffed this dream guy of mine he'd turn suicidal and explain to how he was going to kill himself. I would half-heartedly talk him out of it, at which point he'd blame it all on me. Finally, he'd keep repeating how he didn't need me, loudly curse me for being so worthless then hang up on me. The next day he would call, and we'd do it all over again. I'm not asking you to kill yourself if you lose me, but a half-hearted effort of washing a package of Dexatrim down with a bottle of Nyquil so you at least have to get your stomach pumped would be a nice gesture.
Sure, sure, you're caring, sweet, devoted, honest and loyal. Those are fine and all, but pathological is what I need. Someone who'd literally kill themself if they could no longer be with me; after they killed me that is. So, I must break up with you. The sad thing is, in a month's time, I probably won't catch you trying to follow me, you probably won't call me 122 times a day and hang up as soon as I answer, and you definetly won't mail me a package containing a dead animal and a picture of your dick with the phrase, "love is death and death is love" meticoulusly and randomly written all over it. Jesus, Dave, you just dont get it do you? Sure, every girl unthinkingly says she wants a Romeo, but this Juliet needs hers to do his part to bring Act 5 Scene 3 to its conclusion.

Adieu,
Preet


P.S. I can't get into specifics, but get yourself some penicillin and Gold Bond.

MISSHAPES here I come.....

There are so many reasons why I've become obssessed with Misshapes. I love dancing to rock music. I imagine that there wouldn't be much grinding at misshapes or (unwanted) groping. There'd be polite boys in ties and bomber jackets and T-shirts with ironic saying on them and shaggy shaggy hair. Ther'd be girls in comfortable shoes. Girls who use make-up as crayons. Girls who didn't spend more than $8.99 on their entire outfit but next season will be worth thousands of dollars on the Marc jacobs runway. There'd be tons of peopel taking my photo and I would pretend they were paparazzi even though I love it. Ther'd be absolutely NO smiling. Only weird angular poses a l a Furonda on ANTM. Ultragrrl would be there and she'd give me a job at he record label doing nothing except waxing poetic about what songs I like from which as-yet undiscovered myspace talent. I'd dance like nobody's businss and people would be in awe that I was from canada not a born and bred NYC-girl. Axle Rose would stop by and I would ask him where Slash was but he wouldn't bitch-slap me or anything because I'm a girl and I say it in such an endearing and sweet way that teh worst thing he does is tossle my hair ( Which BTW is a well-documented flirting move on the one and only Stephen Coletti). And Misha Barton would be there and say that she likes my shoes or some shit like that.
Misshapes in my mind is AWESOME.


Currently Listening To: Bossy By Kelis

Japan be like Crazy, Yo!

So maybe I'm a little late on this gravy train. But like, am I the only one that still finds it incredibly trippy that you can call someone from the future? Like that whole today is tomorrow stuff? I have a feeling that the people that invented time zones weren't counts on things like MSN, e-mail or long distance calling cards. Like right now, it's like tomorrow afternoon in Japan. They already had their Saturday Night sleep but I haven't and I'm talking to someone from a land that has already experienced the time that I am experiencing right now. I keep hereing that song from the musical Rent, when I think about it. "Today for you, tomorrow or me," The whole actually makes my head hurt if I think about it too much. Enough of that. Sometimes I think about going to Japan. I wouldn't go and teach over there for a year now. I'm too old now, and my family needs me to be close and a million other little things that keep me tied to this Limbo life I lead in Van-city, but sometimes, I think that maybe I should have gone three, two or even one year ago. My friend informs me that 'my grade 11 self' would fit right in with the harajuku crowd. I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted. Personally I think my Grade 11 couture would run circles around the harajukus. I mean it just looks like Rainbow Brite meets Goth meets Alice in Wonderland. Is that REALLY so orginal?? Okay maybe I'm just a little bitter that all my teen angst was in waste when really all my parents had to do to cure me of my apathy was ship me off to hang with my breathern in Japan for a summer.



These chicks would have helped me put everything in perspective.

Current Mood: Tired
Currently Listening to: Eminem: The Marshall Mathers LP

The Noticer

I notice stuff. Actually, I notice everything. I notice when people notice me. I notice when people notice that I noticed that they noticed me. I notice when people notice that I noticed that they noticed that I noticed they noticed that I noticed that they noticed me. I think I think too much. People make funny faces when they notice you. They either look right through you so that you won't have to make eye contact and do that awkward half-smile thing; or they look at you and then blink and then turn away. Noticing is weird. I always noticed the extras. I noticed that your fly is undone. I noticed that your nail polish on your left thumbnail is chipped. I noticed that one pant leg is kinda bunched up and you can see your sock when yu walk. Yeah. I noticed that, too. But God know, I never noticed those things about myself. My thumbnail polish is always chipped. My fly is always down. My little white Michael jackson sockettes are always showing. I am a mess. Because I don't really notice myself. I should, I guess. I should notice myself. But that could lead to unstoppable bouts of self-critical, self-refexsive, self-loathing. I feel more comfortable noticing others.
I always think about what woudl happen if I did more than notice. I mean Vancouver is a somewhat big city, I could avoid people if I wanted to. It's not like I haven't doen that before. But I always imagine little scenarios for people I notice. Create a little soap for them that relates to the littel thing I noticed about them.

Take this morning for example. There was this 40-ish Persian guy on the bus. He was wearing khaki-mustard pants and a khaki-mustard sweater over a crisp white shirt and some cheap business shoes from Payless, or something. He kept leaning everywhich way and was trying to figure out where the bus was headed and kept checking his watch. I think he must have hasd a job interview because he looked so uncomfortable in his clothes and he had one of those messenger bags ( to keep his resume in). I knew he had a family becasue I saw i wedding band on his finger. I imagined that he and his wife had recently immigrated from Iran and he was deapartely looking for a job so he could pay next month's rent. I imagined that they lived somewhere by Joyce Skytrain Station in a basement suite and that his wife worked long hours with a cleaning service. I'm sure he was pretty well-educated and was probably looking for a job way below his skill level.
Is that weird? That's not the only thing I do when I noticed strangers.
Sometimes I imagine what they would do if I did something completely random to them. Like today when I was wlaking down Davie Street and this homeless guy was just waking up. And he was so happy for some reason. He wasn't cute. he was kind of old. But we was really smily and he was like "Good Morning young lady." and I had such an urge to give him a big hug. Not like anything sexual. But just you know, I was listening to a fun song on my ipod and it was all sunny and the homeless guy was in a friendly mood. I felt like giving him a hug. Then at the gym yesterday, I was waiting for my step class to start and all teh girls were waiting outside and just chatting or whatever. And this girl sat down next to me on the bench when there really wasn't any room for her on the bench. And I was all hundled with my bag in my lap and trying to take a drink of my water. But I didn't have enough hands. I wanted to just drop my bag in her lap for a second while I took a sip of water. But I didn't. I just put my bag on teh floor and scowled.
Okay. the more I write about this, teh more weird it sounds. I'm doing to stop right now. Stop writing that is. Not stop noticing. I could never.

Current Mood: Notice-y
Currently Listening to: Beautiful by Belle and Sebastian.

Couldn't Resist...........

These things are so funny. And at first I just started reading them, because that's funny enough but then I couldn't resist doing me own. So in the vein of Ashlee Simpson's "I wonder what Josh is thinking about right now" radio game, here is my first meme, and mark my words the mp3 player is the new Magic 8-Ball, ya heard?

Simple directions: use the shuffle function on your music player and see what you come up with in answer to the following questions.

How does the world see you? Boys ( Co-ed remix) - Britney Spears

Will I have a happy life? Don't bother - Shakira

***I prefer to interpret this prediction to apply to teh song itself, in which Shakira is telling her ex-boyfriend not to bother worrying about her, because she'll be fine ( she'll be fine, she'll BE FINE!.. Not to mean don't bother even trying to have a happy life. thank-you.

What do my friends think of me? Come On - Ben Jelen

Wow. You like me. You really, really like me.

Do people secretly lust after me? I'm a Slave 4 U - Britney Spears

How can I make myself happy? Ain't no Easy Way - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Ain't that the truth.

What should I do with my life? Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner - Fall Out Boy

Will I ever have children? It's my Life - Bon Jovi

****Okay it's MY life. That could mean NO right? But then again, the whoel song is about how you should do what you want in life because it's YOUR LIFE. But then teh chorus goes, " It's my life It's NOW OR NEVER, I'm not going to LIVE FOREVER," so may be I shoudl have a baby asap. Or maybe.... Why do I suddenly feel like I'm on the 1-900 line trying to decipher the words of Miss Cleo?

What is some good advice for me? I didn't Steall Your Boyfriend - Ashlee Simpson

How will I be remembered? Cha- Ching - Lady Sovereign

What is my signature dancing song? Goodbye My Lover- James Blunt

What do you think my current theme song is? Don't Need a Man - Pussycat Dolls

Wow. this thing is so psyhic.

What does everyone else think my current theme song is? Tango - Lady Sovereign

What song will play at my funeral? Love Burns - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

What type of men do I like? I get High - Talib Kweli

****Although I wish it wasn't true the magic 8-ball mp3 player and my track record can't both be wrong.

What is my day going to me like? Random - Lady Sovereign


So consider yourself tagged. Play it yourself . But be prepared for it's erriely accurate results.

Bwahahahaha....

I'm Sad Today Because......

1. I hurt my knee and now I'm stuck waddling through life....

2. I bought CornPuffs cereal because it was on sale but it's not as good as Honey Nut Cherios.

3. I've been listening to Snow Patrol all morning.

4. Nobody calls me anymore.

5. I'm wearing exercise pants and Ugg boots to work again.

6. Today is Tuesday which means I should be phoning people to update their listings at my job. But I'm not. and I won't. ever.

7. I have a sinking feeling my boss will now start coming to work everyday.

8. My familt is full of crazies and basketcases, sometimes I think, myself included.

9. Everyone's always picking on my girl, Britney.

10. I'm itchy. My hair is dull and full of split-ends.

11. I have to stop taking hot baths because it's turning my skin into alligator skin.

12. I didn't wear a jacket today because it is Spring. Now I am cold.

13. I don't want Subway for lunch but I know I will have it because it's all I can afford that's somewhat healthy.

14. I need a new T.V.

15. I need a new couch.

16. I need a new cellphone.

17. I need a new life.

18. I think I think too much.

19. I notice everything. People are depressing.

20. Famine. war. racism.

Need I say more?

Eat and Make a Difference

Everyone needs to eat right? Well tomorrow, Thursday March 23, is the Annual Dine Out For Life benefitting everyone's favorite charities Friends for Life Society (yayaya) and A Loving Spoonful.
So forget about reheating that boring ole meatloaf or whatever it is that you eat on a dreary Thursday and go out and eat something yummy. 25% of the proceeds from participating restaurants goes towards these LOCAL charities. This is the biggest fundraiser they have so please go if you can!
For more information:
http://www.diningoutforlife.com/van_sponsors.php

This concludes tonight's public service announcement.

how much blah bloh could a blogger blah bloh if a blogger could blog blah?

What is the point of this blog? REALLY?
I'm not really interested in joining these circles of yummy mummies bloggers that do these weird rituals every weekday. Like Wednesday is take a photo of one of your body parts day. (Don't get excited, it's never anything perverse. It's moms for God's sake!)
I don't really write about any of my personal feelings or deep dark secrets in here ( that's because they are all about YOU. Dear reader, everything that is deep, and dark and depressing about me is all YOUR fault)
I'm not writing about one specific subject although I see a recurring theme that makes me think maybe it'sa good idea that my TV is almost broken.
So what's it all about?
A way to practice my pathetic typing. Nooo... Seeing as how it hasn't gotten much better and I never use spellcheck and I've just basically conceded to the fact that "the" will always be spelled teh. I'm starting a revolution, I swear.
Is it a way for my to post raunchy photos of me and fabulous friends living our fabulous lives a la Ellen teh Supermodel or Brian 'the guy who always has his nuts out'? Ummm. NO.
I'm not really sure what this little ole blog is about. But I finally figured out how to check my stats and I was surprised to find out that there are more than four peoplewho read this little ole thing. That be like Woh.
So it's started me thinking about what I REALLY have to offer. How can I be of service? In teh words of Robbie Williams, "Let me Entertain You."

More on that later. I gotta go spend some quality time with the TV.

Currently Listening To: We are Scientists In Love and Squalor
Current Mood: Scratchy

Oh Mama!

My mom and I have been through our good and bad times. But lately despite everything else going on, our relationship has been good. I don't know if it's me getting older or her loosening up a bit, but we definitely have fun now. She's so weird and odd and has so many weird idiosyncrasies that I never noticed before or I just thought were lame and annoying back in the day. Now I swear sometimes I think she should be a stand-up comedian.
It feels good to have this time with her. I mean I'm old enough to participate in those ever pressing "girl's private talks" (Don't ask me to elaborate, I never will) yet young enough to still appriciate her old-bitty tendencies. (You try telling her how much a Chai latte, which was invented in India as a way to conserve milk, costs at Starbucks and then you'll see where she's coming from). She's so blunt, and rude and abrumpt and old-fashioned and stereotypical and all those things that most people, me included, at times, hates about their mothers. But somehow she always manages to solidify her point and make me laugh and make me think about things from a different perspective. Albeit, an archaic and conservative perspective, but a different perspective that I would normally brush off and disregard.
Sometimes, I'll watch her in a fancy store or somewhere out of her comfort zone and I see a bit of myself. You know, a little awkward, painfully shy, not looking people directly in the eye, overly polite. When I seeher like that, I feel a little pang in my stomach. Total Role reversal. She's my kid and I'm watching her to make sure no one slights her or looks at her sideways. The same thing she's done to me all the while I was growing up. It's quite annoying actually. When I was younger, when people said I was like my mom, I would kick and scream up a storm. She is crazy, ultra-conservative, old-fashioned and many other things that I am totally not and will probably never be. But I see now, that we are a like in many ways. We're both funny and bossy and a lot of other things that are way to depressing and repressed to delve into on my little ole blog.
The overall gist of this little tangent is that I feel like I'm getting to know my mom in a whole different light. Not just a mother, but a wife, a sister, a woman, a worker, a complete person.

Mood: Cheesy
Currently listening to: Taking Back Sunday Slowdance on the Inside.

Weddings weddings, wedddings!!!

Weddings are in the air.
Well not really. I'm not getting married. Only one person I know is getting married. But it feels like the most exciting thing ever. It is the most exciting thing ever.
My best friend is getting married this summer and I am now getting into the full swing of planning. I can't reveal many details in case she ever reads this but needless to say nothing gets me more excited than planning and organizing things. (Yes. I DO realize how lame that makes me sound, but whatever).
Sometimes, I think it's so fun to be a girl. And when I get married that will be one of those times. Engagement parties, bachelorette parties bridal showers, not to mention the wedding itself. I think my actual wedding will probably make me vomit because I hate having everything all about me and everyone staring at me, but the other stuff will be so fun! At first I thought the bachelorette party would be the funnest part but the more I think about it, I think the bridal shower will be funner. That one has your family and relatives and I'm sure when (IF?) I ever get married my mom would be super-excited and all-bossy and would make copious amount of spicy Indian food and get that weird plastic smile that she gets when she's trying to be nice to people she doesn't know.
The Bridal shower seems more relaxed. The bachelorette party has so much pressure. IT THE LAST NIGHT OF HER SINGLEDOM. The Bride needs to have fun. Needs to get drunk. Needs to flirt with black guys. Okay maybe some of this is just in my head, but you can get the gist of it right? It's all staring down on me like the barrel of a gun and I'm not even the one getting married. I just want everything to be perfect and so fun for her.
Because after her wedding. It's the end.
The end of an era ( an era that really died when she and her husband-to-be became serious). I mean it's not like I'll never hang out with her again. Or like we hang out a lot right now. But the potential is there. And say I wanted to go to a bar? Would my newly-married friend go? What happens when guys start to dance dirty with her? Is she going to flash her wedding band ( That's actually not a bad idea to get rid of creepy bar guys) Or like if I was going out with someone and the newlyweds come along?!!! That's so weird. It's a lot of pressure.
Not that any of this really matters. Sometimes it just seems surreal. Like when you're in grade five or whatever and you talk about what you'll do when you graduate and then all of a sudden you're 17 and you haven't written your first best-selling novel or married the lead singer from Poison like you had been planning all those years ago. I've known for a while that they are getting married but now that everythig is coming down to logistics as opposed to daydreamy plans. It's so strange.
Everyone's growing up. It's exciting. and a bit scary.....

Currently listening to: The Hard-Fi
Current Mood: Antsy and bored

An Ode to Uggs

You know you're ugly, right? Okay, wait. Maybe that's too harsh not ugly like there's no hope for you and no one will ever love you. Because people really love. I really, really love you. I guess I mean kind of ugly like Elijah Wood or Mark Whalberg or something. Cute but kind of off, a little awkward and oafish, I'd say. But you know what, Uggs? I don't care. I don't. I really don't. I don't care that Uggs were deemed officially over in 2004 by VH-1 and even Paul Franks Monkey has blasted you on his tee shirts. I don't care. I love my Uggs. It's getting to be a bit ridculous, though. I mean I wear you almost everyday to work. Work. Where I'm supposed to wear office clothes. But Uggs you've changed me . You've changed me and my priorities. I don't want to wear grown-up office clothes, if it means I can't be with you. I'd rather wear exercise pants and a dressy shirt, just so you can be part of the game. I've let me feet becoem spoiled by you. Even when I wear runners or boots, my feet say " Oh I'd rather be with Ugg." As a stated above: this is getting a bit ridiculous. Uggs are really not the most flattering footwear, you know. They make my legs look like the block legs I used to draw on my stick figures when I was a kid. SOmetimes I look down, and I think that I could almost get away with calling them clown shoes. And when I'm on carpet? Forget about it. I trip over my own feet so many times you'd think I was practing my tumbling routine for the 2006 Olympics. But I don't care. Why because you are comfortable and cute and trendy but not too trendy and did I mention cute? I really thought i would be over it when I bought my purple Mukluks. But you won be back, Ugg. You won me back with you fury lining and easy-to tuck trunk, I mean legs.

"I wish I could quit you, Uggs!"

In Honour of McFun.

Grey's Anatomy is definetly one of the funniest shows on right now., ( and I'd liek to point out there are NO teenagers in this program) . It has funny moments, sad moments and the best television soundtrack, since, dare I say, The O.C.

In honour of all things Grey's Anatomy and the delicious-but sometimes- a-jerk McDreamy ( see photo), I've decided to play a little game using the McName. I've come up with McName's for everyone I can think of right now so now's your chance to guess who you are.. ( IF you think you aren't here, beleive me, you are).

McTeen

McAgro

McFarty

McDrama

McDiva

McChatty

McWanksta

McCrazy

McDeliquent

McGeeky

McScaredycat

McSmartypants

McBooty

McAnnoying

McLiar

Please don't get offended. It's all in honour of good ole McFun!

Current Mood: Hungry

Currently listening to: Nelly Sweat/Suit