Rolling with my Hommies (homos)

So a few weekends ago my friend david had an art show. It was an art auction really. A silent auction, very sophisticated. tres edgy, if you will.

As you can see, it was a very, very classy affair. We keeps it reals, yo.

Behind us is the photo I won, Number 7 with the three eyeballs. It is soooooo edgy.
Is it just me, or should I have taken that damn scarf off at some point in the night? Also does my hair look more liek a wig made out of carpet or like I am the true mother of Suri Cruise?

This is me and my friend Holly, who recently got back from Argentina. She brought me back this edgy tee-shirt with the words "Preety heart" on it. That's right. That's right. In Argentina, they know where it's at. Preety heart is like this hard-core edgy label out there. I think it all must stem from grade 8 when I was tutoring this ESL kid named Miguel and then he went back to Brazil after one semester. I think he loved me. I think then he moved to Argentina. I think then he started this clothing line to pay homage to his unrequited love for me. I think I am full of shit.

Things that go Bump in the Night

I'm not usually a scaredy cat. Usually I like having the place to myself. But sometimes. Sometimes, like right now when I should be sleeping in until a glorious 11 am or noon, sometimes, tiny noises wake me up with a start and automatically make my heart start racing and tears spring to my eyes.

Lately, I have been super paranoid that someone is going to steal my TV. Maybe it's because the TV is the only thing that is really mine in the living room. This week alone, I have run out to the living room three times in the middle of the night with cell phone in hand ready to dial 911 to keep cracked-out theives from stealing my prized possesion. There really is no logic to my logic in teh middle of the night.

At least today I managed to get like 4 hours sleep. At least I have refrained from phoning any of my friends crying hysterically about how the winds and the sounds of the rain and the noisy way the people upstairs walk can be misconstrued as a burgular.

Dead Bodies Everywhere!

A wise woman once said to me when I told her I was going to happily trot off to the Body World 3 exhibit at Science World, “I don’t want to hear anything about it. I don’t want to discuss it. I don’t agree with it at all,” To you, oh wise woman, I say step away from your screen. You do not want to follow me down this road. Believe you me.

On some level, maybe I wish I had blanketed the whole hoopla over the Plastination fascination as weirdo and never given another thought. Things would have been easier. My dreams would have been unmarred by the images of 14 dead babies in various stages of development. My mind wouldn’t be askew with malicious conspiracy theories involving government cover-ups, Nazi Germany and alcoholic physicians getting kickbacks in return for cadaver paperwork “misplacement.” Don’t even get me started on the mini-dramas that enraptured my mind when I began pondering the symantics involved when these plastinized statues, once free-thinking, vital and functioning human beings told their loved ones that they wanted their bodies to be used not for finding a cure for ALS or Lupus or even donating their skin to burn victims but to be sliced and diced as an op-ed art piece for the layperson to see what their insides look like and more importantly for 8-year old girls to giggle and point and learn the spelling of the word PENIS. Who said honour was dead?

















I guess it’s interesting. It’s not something I have ever really thought about, though. I know I have muscles, and ligaments and organs and whathaveyou underneath all these bells and whistles we call our human form. But what it really looks like and what it would like if my muscles were sliced open and spread out and then covered in plastic, is not something that really occupies my mind. I’ve got other things to think about. I figure the people that need to know how all those things work; well they probably went to school for that. They probably understand the human form better than I ever will from examining an eyeball and freaking out because the eyelashes fluttered due to the air conditioning system.

You know, I wouldn’t let my car mechanic make me a gourmet meal with his tool kit; so why do we let anatomist Gunther von Hagens use his doctoring abilities to cut people up and call it art?

Don’t even get me started on this guy, Gunther. A quick wikipedia search confirmed what I had already suspected. He’s a freak. He performed an autopsy on live television? For kicks? And I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s like part of some anti-abortion coalition. He scares me.








So I won’t say much more. I’m sure he has spies everywhere. But let this post serve as a record, neither I nor anyone in my family or posse will let Gunther plastinate our bodies into cages that will trap our souls forever is a weird limbo where annoying kids point at our genitalia and giggle.

The Nightmare is over

I knew she would come to her senses sooner or later!

Click here for the greatest celebrity news since the birth of Suri Cruise!!!

Get ready for the biggest comeback eva!!!

I knew she would come back to her senses sooner or later!!!

Don't Hate!!!!!!

Hey You! Stop picking on me!

Ever feel like the world is against you? Sure you have. We all have. But for me it's true! I Swear. Prospective bosses have told me I am unprofessional; unsuitable; unable; underqualified; unimaginative; undereducated, un-human basically. I hate it! Stop being so MEAN! I am a nice girl. Can't NICE thing happen to me? If I don't have the job, fine. So be it. But at least, at least leave me with my dignity. Don't "harsh on my mellow when i'm already on my way down, dude" as Dexter Reed said so eloquently in the classic flick, Good Burger.
I already have bruises from my fall from grace, please don't kick me anymore!
And while I'm at it, hello random walkers with umbrellas; Don't go under the awning and make me walk in the rain when I don't even have a hood on. That's MEAN!
And don't bump my bag so hard that it falls off my shoulder and I stumble. I have a big bag, yes. I know. But you have two eyes with which you, as an able-bodied human being, should be able to gage how much space is needed to walk by me and my bag without touching me. Don't Touch me! And if you do, Say Sorry!
And if I know you, Be Nice to Me. I am sick. And sensitive. Think about me. Love me. I love you. I promise. As long as you Stop being so Mean!

The End is Nigh

Finally! After almost two full weeks of gagging on 12 gargatuan pills a day. It's almost over. I am officially only 12 huge pills away from the end. I have ALMOST completed my Wild Rose Cleanse. And it was really not as hard as I thought. Although I did slip on the weekend, ( damn you Smartpop PopCorn!) and maybe had a little too much from the protein column due to my addiction to coffee ( yeah, go figure! Wild Rose counts coffee in the protein column) I think I did pretty good. I lost some weight. I don't feel as sleepy as usual. My skin is a bit less splotchy. And most importantly, I've learned some very important lessons:

1) My Body is a temple.

2) Eating is not an activity. It should be boring and take a long time to make for it to be really healthy.

3) Peanut butter is not a good alternative to potatoe chips.

4) Chicken caesar salad is not a real salad.

5) Vegetables go rotten if you don't eat them.

6) If something says "No drinking alcohol," they probably also mean no smoking and no taking drugs also.

7) When you have eaten so many carrots that your fingers smell like soap and your computer screen has an orange ting to it, it's time to switch to cucumbers.

8) When all you've talked about for the lat 12 days is what you've eaten and your many and varied bowel movements, it's time for the cleanse to be OVER!

Winds of Change

I've felt it inside of me, rumbling for the last three months or so. I felt it before, too. It's just become a part of life. That rush, that urge, the impulse to fuck everything and everyone. But then it passes. Then my Capricorn-ness comes back. I have become far too practical. But I still make bad decisions. Come on, that's part of what makes me preety. But in my old age, these changes are few and far between. I don't like hassle. I don't like conflict. Well, at least not anymore. But, i also don't like the thought of waking up one morning and going: "Oh shit, I am 30 years old and I haven't done shit." So hassle, heartache, regret and (even more) self-doubt: Here I come!

On the Mixed CD/Tape

The first mixed tape I ever got was from an OLDER guy. You know one of those guys FROM THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. I never liked him or anything, not much anyways. I definitely thought he was INTERESTING. He had one of those hats with the plastic bird poop on it that said DAMN SEAGULLS; and I thought that was the coolest thing ever. I think the only reason he made me the tape was because I had brought my sister’s RAP TRAXX tape to school and was teaching everyone the rhymes of Young MC at recess.

On my walk home from school one day he handed me the homemade tape with a booklet of all the lyrics painstakingly written out by hand; no small feat considering they were all rap songs and had so many words in them. He just stuffed the tape and the booklet in my hand and ran off to soccer practice saying that he made me this. There were definitely no love songs on this tape. I mean he was at least in 8th grade and I was way younger. There was no “You invade my soul,” or “You jump, I jump.” But there was magic in that tape and magic in the next two months as I memorized every lyric and wore the tape down to its shreds. There was magic when he would quiz me on my lyric memorization afterschool and philosophize on the finer points of Boogie Down Productions and Digital Underground. I’m not sure why he picked those particular songs. I’m sure I never will know.

I'm really not into fashion or craze

Just the one who pays and how soon I get a raise

You're probably in a daze, acting out of sympathy

Wrote a couple of rhymes and think that you can get with me

Boogie Down Productions – Poetry.


There's always one bitch in every town

Every time you see her, her panites are down

Always dressed fresh in the ladies' wear

She sports the weave instead of hair

2live Crew – We want some pussy.

Okay maybe his motives were a bit QUESTIONABLE. But still as a young girl unwise in the ways of boys beyond hair pulling and skirt lifting; this mixed tape cemented the relationship between music and experience for me. I can never hear 2Live Crew without thinking of those DAMN SEAGULLS.


Since then my history with the mixed tape and its successor the mixed CD, has been a bit more straight-forward.

You know, the song from that time we…… and the song that was playing the first time we…… this song is about a girl who is way too…… this song is about a guy that is so lucky to be with a girl like you that is so ………. Where the originality comes in, I think, is the inscription and the details. It is all about the details. The CD case. The notes. The computerized graphics. That is the extra effort. Not only are there cuddle points for the Mixed CD itself but any garnish around the CD and extra bits you added or meaning given to explain why certain songs were chosen is like extra chocolate sauce on a super-duper sundae with the works.

The beauty of the mixed CD is its uniqueness. This mixed CD is made for YOU. See it has your name on it! See there are songs that talk about things we talk about! See there are songs by bands we like! You can’t make a bland mixed CD, well you can but you can’t make a bland mixed CD in the sense of a guy giving a girl a mixed CD.

Or so I thought.

Recently I was the surprise recipient of what I believe to be a social anomaly. A mutant in the pool of guy-girl presents. A deviant in the natural progression of music acting as a mirror for relationships. I think I received a mass-produced Mixed CD. I know. I know it sounds like an oxy-moron. But it’s true. A faceless mixed CD with my name and a few cute notes that were probably provided by mad-libs. What kind of person takes something as sacred as the MIXED CD and turns it into some kind of legal Rohypnol?

A cunning person, that’s who. A cunning person who can zone on the girls that watch too much teen television and still want to be popular in high school and feed them exactly what they have been hungry for.

Who doesn’t relate to an Avril Lavigne song? ( Losing Grip)
Who doesn’t always want to be right? ( Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong- Spin Doctors)
Who hasn’t wanted a night to last forever? ( The Brilliant Dance- Dashboard Confessional)
Who doesn’t wish she could erase her past? ( No Lies, Just Love – Bright Eyes)
Who isn’t interested in just getting wasted? ( Nth Degree – Morningwood)
Who doesn’t want to run away and be rich and fabulous? ( Come Away with Me- Fabulous)

None of these songs scream PREETADELIC, you know. Well maybe Losing Grip but that’s a lucky guess. This experience has sullied my lofty perception of the MIXED CD and its significance. Why not just stand on a street corner with a whole box of them and the first girl that recognizes half the songs becomes your girlfriend? GREAT. Soooo romantic.

My Girls Want to Party all the Time.

Okay I may not be good at a lot of things: I can't whistle worth a damn; i can't ask the waitress/waiter to take back my food when she/he has mistaken my order; I can't wear heels for an extended period of time; I can't let someone finish a sentence if I know what they are talking about, etc. etc. But I can do one thing very well. Very, very well. I can party like a mofo. It's true. It's true. Not all teh time, mind you. Not when I am around people I don't know well. Not when I am on my period. Not when I am preoccupied with something or other. But when I'm on. It's on. You dig?

Here's some fun photos from Ella's birthday party last weekend and some random photos of us getting ready for teh Mariah Carey concert the weekend before.





The Mariah concert was so fun! Her voice was fabulous and despite our nosebleed seats, it was so fun. I was sucha dancing machine. In the words of Lionel Ritchie " I was Dancing on the ceiling" Not because I was so limber or anything but because our seats were so close to the actual ceilling. But whatevs. It was fun. I even got a Bootleg Mariah concert tee. That's right. That's right. Bootleg. I know. You don't have to say it: edgy.



The assignment was to WORK the mirror a la Tyra Banks. As you can tell, some of us have practised this before, some of us haven't and some of us are drunk.

EDGY

Guess what is the number one, that's right, I said NUMBER ONE, Google ( not MSN, tee hee) result when you search for tres edgy.....

Go ahead, guess:

Your favourite!

I just want to thank my mom and dad, my sister, my fourth grade teacher Mr. Tomlinson.......

woot! Woot! Google says I am tres EDGY!!!!!

Somebody told me that you are my boyfriend

So, yeah, I did it. I downloaded the whole new Killers album, Sam's Town at work. But whatever. I am still so going to buy it when it comes out next Tuesday. And plus, you can listen to the whoel album anywasy at www.mtv.com/theleak. I love it. Like seriously. I love it like how I loved Snow Patrol's Final Straw two years ago; I love it like I loved Coldplay's A Rush of Blood to the Head; I love it like I loved Lauryn Hill's the Miseductaion of Lauryn Hill. Yeah. It's true. I love it that much. It is that good.
Hot Fuss was a great album. It was infectious and new. Catchy. But it was a bit more timid. Lyrically, it was a lot of "I saw a guy who looked like a girl who looked like a ... yadda yadda yadda. " If the last CD, was Brandon Flowers whispering about things he saw on the playground; Sam's Town is Flowers announcing his musings from the mountaintop. Maybe they are not as cute anymore; and maybe they are kind of biting on the whole Baz Luhrmann aesthetic from 1996's Romeo and Juliet; but they still rock and are totally bringing thoughtfulness and irony back to music.

My Favorite song on the album is definetly My List. It is so pretty. There is this Gregorian choir lady singing in the background and it sounds so pretty. My favorite line is: "When your heart's not able/ and your prayers cannot save you/ Let me show you/Let me show you/ how much I care."

I know. I know. That line isn't so profound. But it is simple and sweet and it sounds really pretty when you atcually hear it. When I write it down, I'm like okay, Preety is like a crazy Philliopino teenager writing out song lyrics on her blog. ( Seriously is it just me or is blogger a hotbed for lonely romantic Philiopino teens that gush about Jesse McCartney and Panic at the Disco all day long??)

Whatever. I feel the need to digress into like a 13-year-old Phillopino girl some more and mention my other favorite sappy lyrics because I was listening to the sad songs playlist on the mp3 player on my way to work.

Bright eyes - Lover I don't have to Love Favorite lyric:

I want a lover I don't have to love

I want a boy who's so drunk he doesn't talk

And where's the kid with the chemicals?

I got a hunger and I can't seem to get full

I need some meaning I can memorize

The kind I have always seems to slip my mind

Okay. I realize that was like a whole verse. But it is a rare occasion that I can remember something properly and i want to take full advantage of it. But I will admit that I double-checke the lyrics online just in case I was going to publish something that was so random that didn't make any sense.

Like remember when Billie Jean came out and he was like " The kid is not my son?" Well, I always thought it was "the chair is on my bum." Seriously for years. I would debate the authenticity of that lyric tooth and nail. I thought he was being ironic. As if he would be so obvious to directly answer his detractors in a form so plain as a song. Seriously.

Anyways, back to the Killers. My Favourite song is My List. But I also love this bonus track that is called "Where the White Boys Dance." I feel that is an ode to my imaginary hood, Misshapes. And Bling ( Confessions of a King) is a really, really pretty and sad song as well.

I have a feeling that this CD is going propel the Killers into like U2, Coldplay, Green Day status. And I saw them first! Well, maybe not the first person ever. But I saw them in 2003 when they were opening for Sam Roberts in Victoria. So I feel like we are really connected. On account of they have been to my hometown and stuff.

No Sugar and no Caffeine make Preety something something

No Sugar and no caffeine make Preety something something.

No Sugar and no caffeine make Preety something something.

No Sugar and no caffeine make Preety something something.

No Sugar and no caffeine make Preety something something.

go crazy?

Don't mind if I Do!!!


Note to self: it is not the best idea to start a no sugar and no caffeine cleanse when you are cold and sleepy. Decaf coffee tastes like poop. Sugar-free granola bars taste like poop. Feeling sleepy all day tastes like poop.

This cleanse is making me pre-occupied with poop.

The Lost Art of Storytelling

I used to be one of them, you know. I was the life of the party. The go-to story-teller. Everyone gathered around, laughing, intently hanging on to my every word. Reliving life’s most amusing moments in a colourful anecdote that people remembered for years to come. People were always saying Tell Janice that story about the time you met Snow! Let’s hear the one about when you got stranded at the Chinese cemetery on Halloween Night! Tell that one about how you got hit with ricocheted bird poop at the Hippie Market again! That was my thing; my niche. I am an English Major for gosh sakes! I DO consider myself an Authoress. I am looking for a profession that allows me to tell stories for a living. But for the life of me, I can’t remember how.

I’m not sure why, how or when. But I’ve lost my mojo. It’s vanished quicker than a line of coke at the casa de Lohan. My stories have gone from producing howling hysterics to plodding, blubbering and the occasional awkwardly-long “Huh?” Remember that time I had that S & M twin? No? Well, yeah I had this twin and she was always wearing leather and people always mistook me for her. Great story huh? You know what this reminds me of? You know what this is totally like? Remember that episode of Family Guy where the baby was like being mean of something and then something totally random happened? Uh… yeah…..

I don’t know how to get it back. Mojo, Mojo where art thou, Mojo? Blame it on drugs. Blame it on my self-imposed isolation. But the real culprit is harder to shake than any of those vices. The real culprit behind by social stigmatism, my verbal retardation, I believe is my job.

S4L has done this to me. S4L has punctured my socializing and replaced my storytelling with the re-hashing of celebrity blogger news and images of New York indie kids being edgy. Here’s the thing about S4L. I don’t speak. Ever. I mean I say, “hey” “how’s it going?” “Good,” and “I’m going for lunch” a few times a day; but beyond that, it’s just me, my computer, my music and my Internet.

Slowly the repetition of keyboard strokes; the humming of my monitor and the buzzing of the florescent lights have captured my soul. The humdrum-osity of my office environment has captured my soul and that part of my brain that made me interesting; that made me an interesting and vivid storyteller. They stole that part of me so that I would be forever chained to this dungeon. Mute and dumb to the array of possibilities the world is offering me.

Well no more! I have been a social midget too long. It’s time to grow tall! Take back my personality! Take back my conversation skills! Take back my life!

What kind of person will you be vs. what kind of person are you?

I've always thought of myself as a doer. You know one of those people that rises against THE MAN and stand up for what she believes in. I march in the marches; I sign the petitions; I sing the protest anthems loud and proud. But does that make who you are? Not really. Who you are is not what group you join; what rally you happen to stumble into; what petition you agree to sign. Who you are is really based on how you react in daily situations.

This last week, I have noticed random acts of kindness and chilvary and also have been guilty of standing by and watching as someone in need floundered in dispair.

Last Saturday, I was standing at a bus stop when an old man with an elderly person stroller totally fell face first on the pavement. This was a busy bus stop where many buses come to load and unload their passengers; so everyone saw. I was watching him get up slowly, thinking shoudl I go over there... When this guy, probably about 20 years old ran up; lost his place in the bus queue; and helped him. It was one of the quickest responsest I have ever seen to a stranger in distress situation. And the kid was very thorough. He walked the old man over to a bench; picked up all his things and even gave him some water from his water bottle. I don't know why but that image has stayed in my head for the last week.

Then the other day; I was walking home from the grocery store and a woman was riding her bike and her tire got caught on the edge of the sidewalk. She fell over her bike but was not hurt. But she made a loud noice and me and everyone else walking kind of just stopped and looked at her. But no one did anything. I didn't even ask if she was okay. Now in teh interest of fairness; I was carrying like 5 grocery bags very awkwardly as usual; and I had my head phones on and my purse was falling off my shoulder and she was a little on the sketchy side. And also, there was this other bike rider that was a guy and older than me; so if anyone should have checked on her it shoudl have been him. But still it has lingered with me.

Then there is the thing with my boss. Now it's not like he is harbouring fugitives or you know killing endangered species or anything. But he is rude and condescending and treats his employees like lab monkeys. For a whiel it seemed like I had escape his scrutiny with my one year of senority and all; but alas that too has passed. I am yet another communist trying to mooch off his hard earned profits; a little leech trying to suck out all his blood. He acts like I am always trying to get out of doing work; skimping on the job or slacking off in some as yet undiscovered way. Now i can hear you guys in my head snickering! Fine. I knwo I am not working at 100% capacity at all times; but I am the best worker he has ever had and he is so unappreciative.

But what can I say? What can I do? Should I confront him and let him know that almost every employee he's ever had has hated him? Or will I just stand by and watch as more and more employees figuratively fall over their bikes and not even ask if they are okay?

Sometimes I think it's my shyness that's stopping me from saving the World.

100 random things about ME!!!

okay I decided to tag myself from kate's blog and write up 100 things about me. I hope I can make it.....

100. When I was in Grade 5 I was sold on the idea to change my name to Maxine because I hated Preet so much. I got the forms and everything but my dad wouldn't sign it. i really wanted everyone to call be Maxi. It's true, it's true. I thought in my innocent mind that preet feet would be far waorse than anything they could come up with to go with Maxi. yeah right!

99. My mom used to help me cheat to get my brownie badges.

98. I never peed or pooped in an outhouse throughout all my girl guide camping trips. One lasted for a full week.

97. I still listen to New Kids on teh Block. A lot. Especially My favorite Girl and Didn't I Blow ya Mind.

96. I have two tattooes but they are both on my back so I often forget about them.

95. If I have a daughter that doesn't let me watch teen tv with her and read her teen magazines, i will be crushed.

94. Wherever I go I leave a trail of curly black hair... from my head.

93. I suck on my split ends when I am bored.

92. I don't care what anyone says, I have a GREAT singing voice; and it sounds the best when I'm in the car or cleaning my house.

91. I hate tomatoes.

90. I love mexican food.

89. I cheated so many times the last year i was a "vegetarian."

88. Hangovers and cold Mcdonald's cheesburgers were my downfall.

87. If I wear something white; I will spill on it; no question.

86. The first thing I notice about a gut is his hair.

85. the last thing I notice about a guy is his butt.

84. Even if I had a million dollars i would still shop vintage. It wouldn't be Value Village Couture anymore; but I wold still look at upscale vintage stores.

83. I beleive that teh world of music-lovers is divided into two camps: the people whose lives were changed by Nirvana and teh people whose lives weren't.

82. I belong to the former group.

81. When Kurt Cobain died I lost almost all of my friends.

80. I still remember exactly what I was doing teh first time I heard Nirvana.

79. Good Live music is my favorite thing.

78. I hate using pens that don't make a clicker on top; they just have a cap.
ate packing a lunch; and rarely do.

76. I still miss my Neon.

75. I will always prefer to wear sneaks.

74. I 'm a lot less cool than you think.

73. Mark my words, raven Symone will be remembered as teh black Lucille Ball.

72. I cry all the time.

71. I think of my family as my kids, these days.

70. I plan to take my dad to see Canada win teh gold medal in hocket in 2010.

69. I plan to go to Glastonbury in 2007.

68. I plan to go see the World Cup in South Africa in 2010.

67. I use a lot of q-tips. not only do i clean my ears complusively but i use them for make-up; for cleaning under my nails; for cleaning my belly button.

66. This list is taking a lot longer than expected.

65. I don't like Starbucks coffee anymore. Their chai lattes are still da bomb though. But for lattes and coffe I have bene spoiled by cafe Artigiano.

64. I don't eat cookies anymore. i eat biscotti....

63. I often wonder if when I look back on my life, my "career highlight" will have been working at teh Grand Forks Gazette.

62. Sometimes, i think I must have been a gangsta rapper in another life.

61. The first movie I ever saw in teh theatre was Adventures in Babysitting.

60. Th last movie i saw in teh theatre was She's the Man.

59. I am no longer very ambitious.

58. I am always sleepy.

57. I would usually rather be shopping or watching soaps.

56. My favorite restaurant is Red Robins.

55. I still always wear little, white, 'sockettes.'

54. I have one sister.

53. Everyone says we look alike.

52. We don't see it.

51. Chicks always tell me i should straighten my hair.

50. Most guys I've dated say they love my mangly mane.

49. More importantly, I for teh most part, love my mini-afro.

48. I've abused my hair more times than i care to recount.

47. But I will.

46. I've cut my own bangs.

45. Badly.

44. I've used 1950s afro relaxing to get teh kink out of my hair.

43. That stuff burns.

42. And half your hair falls out.

41. BUt it works.

40. I cannot do my hair with scissors in teh immediate reachable area. Bad things are bound to happen.

39. I'm running out of things to say.

38. I tape General Hospital and beverly Hills 90210 every weekday.

37. I hope my kids end up watching GH.

36. I hope my son ends up in teh NHL and play for teh Canadian Oylmpic team.

35. I had a bagel for breakfast.

34. We're out of toliet paper at my house.

33. I started this list yesterday.

32. I'm going to buy the new Christina CD today.

31. I don't like silence.

30. I want to join a writer's club.

29. I want to try stripper -robics.

28. I want some new sneakers.

27. Some new jeans.

26. Some new bras.

25. A new jacket.

24. I wonder if this is cheating?

23. I don't care, this is hard.

22. I am at work, you know.

21. With actual work that needs to be done.

20. I think about moving to Victoria a lot lately.

19. I wish I lived in the Victorian times.

18. We would all wear corsets and take walks through teh Moores in teh moonlight... It would be sooo romantic.

17. If I got plastic surgery, I would get a hand transplant.

16. I am proud that I was a child of teh 90s.

15. I hate 80s.

14. Except 80s clothes. They are pretty cool.

13. Thirteen is my favorite number.

12. I won my first writing prize in grade four for a scary Halloween story I wrote about how October 31 was like Friday the 13th.

11. My Fvaorite Indian food is mutter panear.

10. I probably didn't spell that right.

09. I have a poster of Raven Symone by my computer.

08. I have a framed photo of me and my sister by my desk too.

07. And a philosophical quote a day calendar. That still is checked to July 27.

06. Today's quote says " To set up what you like against what you don't like- this is the disease of the mind. -Sengtsan.

05. I am a really bad typer.

04. My tummy is grumbling.

03. Even though I hate the ladies of the View, I miss watching it sometimes.

02. Once I buy a place, I will probably get involved in municipal politics.

01. I'm done!!!

00. Now you know 100 things about me!!!!


I tag Ms. Golightly because she is a talker if I ever met a talker and she probably will find this challenge a breeze!

Merci Montreal; Vous m'avez tres tres EDGY...

Oh Montreal. You have won me over. Seriously you cocky Quebecois with your self-assured, shoe-gazing style and effeminate posturing. That's edgy. I love it. I love it even though everytime I tell you that I am from Vanocuver you spend the next 20 minutes trying to tell me why Montreal is sooo much better than Vancouver. (Yes, It's true Adri, I told them I was FROM Vancouver, my sister even said i could!)

The trip was awesome! Awesome despite a few roadblocks including being charged $230 to spend like 40 minutes in a hostel that was basically this weird hippie chicks' house; in a room with a mattress on the floor; no sheets and a comforter that smelled like puke! SO being the divas that we are we high-tailed it outta there and cabbed it to the Holiday Inn. YOu know how we do:)

The next day we went to H&M and it was everything I'd ever imagined. And there were having a sale and there was their fall and summer stuff there. It was sooo awesome. i was in heaven. I think we spent at least 3 hours there. That night we went to this circus called Ola Kala and this one guy bailed like 6 times right in front of us. There was an opera singer and a wind tunnel and everyone was sitting on these recliners. It was very European......

The next day we went to teh big gay festival and met some gay olympians and had random dudes teaching how to dance like'sexy' gay guys and try to hit on us and chilled out to House music and watched a crazy drag show with an Edwards Scissorhands-esque Marilyn Manson drag queen doing Sweet Dream and a big black and fabulous drag queen stripping down everything and writhing on teh floor after her top accidently started falling off!

We did a lot of touristy things like we went to the Biodome and saw the cutest penguins and we went to the Museum of Contemporary Art and saw these cool exhibits about the evolution of teh music video and some Brian Jungen sneaker Native Masks.. SO cool. We took a morning boat ride along the St. Lawrence River and wandered through Old Montreal, Little Italy, The Village, the Latin Quarter; St. Laurent Boulevard... Did I mention my feet hurt?

All in all it was soo fun. I didn't get into TOOO much trouble; my sister and I didn't get on each nerves too much we didn't put ourselves into too much debt. And this trip really re-opened my love for vacations. Everyone should take vacations. All the time! screw working!


A building in Old Montreal. I could whip out my guidebook and telll you which one it is but I won't just look at it and saw it's old andf pretty....
these penguins look so fake, right? well theya re not! Stuffed penguins and reall penguins look surprising similar! but stilll soooo cute:)

The Biodome as seen from a yacht on teh St. Lawrence River. Okay , okay probably not a yacht. maybe it was more of a boat. But definetly closer to a yacht than a dingy!
Did I mention that everyone loves teh Gays in Montreal? They do. They even but huge medals on their banks for teh Gays. I even let some people think I was a lesbian to just fit in with teh gays!! How's that for a ROLE REVERSAL???
Me and my sister are such bad-ass hommies. Especially my sister. She's right out of East L.A. Look at her pipes!!!
Oh Mon dieu! Ou es la magasin H&M si vous plait? Merci, Merci . Mais, Nous n'avons pas d'argent maintenant!!!!

Au revoir Vancouver, Bonjour Montreal!!!!

Au revoir mes amis..... J'ai aller etre EDGY. Vous entendez nous avons tres chic. oui. oui. oui.

Je t'aime entendu heures!!!
Bye!!! See y'all in a week:)

Awesome... I FUCKING shot that!!!!!

I love the Beastie Boys!!!! I just bought their new live DVD Awesome I FUCKING shot that, and it rawks!!! It is awesome! I loved it! Even though I had alredy been to this concert when they came to Vancouver last Fall, seeing everything on DVD in Madison Square Garden was so cool. There were a lot of differences in the show from MSG compared to teh show here last year. In teh MSg show they come out in blue tuxedos and play their instruments and on teh DVD I can actually see what's happening which I could barely do from my nosebleed seat where I was kinda drunk, I think, at Pacific Coliseum.
I really love live DVDs, I realized. I mena I love live concerts more, obviously. But Live DVDS are sooooo good. Especially this one, because it does my favorite things. Take shots of fans dancing around craily to the music. It is so funny and so cool and they even show some shots of Ben Stiller getting down which makes me love him even more.


Of course, there is no doubt that the best rapper and funniest guy in Beatie Boys is Ad Rock. he has the best ryhmes ( If you try to mock me/You'll get knocked/ I'll stir-fry you in my wok) He has the funniest voice; he looks the youngest; he is the best dancer; and he is just about the best ever!!! I love the Beastie Boys 4-eva! Until I'm 95, I will be body-moving and drinking the Brass Monkey ( figuratively, of course!)

When your bored....

Look at cats that looke like Hitler:



It does a body good:)
www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com

Ma Famillia.

"Govern a family as you would

cook a small fish - very gently"

This is a quote that I found in my 'philosophy-quote-a-day- desk calendar. It is an old Chinese proverb that is sometiems attributed to Confucius. Whiel I may not be the governor of my family; I definetly relate to this quote. Family is a complicated and layered beast and a lot of the times, I feel like mine is one of the most convoluted.
There are certain ways you act around different people, not being fake necessarily, but more like letting a certain aspect of your personality take over. Maybe you tell more dirty jokes around your friends; maybe you let your hidden interest in Oprah's Book Club hang out when your hanging with the girls. Or maybe like me, you revert to your 12-year-old self complete with a high-pitched baby voice when you kick back with the family.
Not that there's anything wrong with that. much. I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that even if I went to India and built an orphanage for homeless AIDS babies my parents would still call me spoiled and talk about when I bought a $70 skateboard from Woolco( does anybody remember that place?) and barely rode it 3 times before abandoning it for a it for a banana board I got at a garage sale in grade 5. But you know, what? I'm okay with that.
Lately, I like my family. They are weird. yes. they mumble and rant and scream and yell at each other for no reason. But they have their moments. Whether it be my dad practising his signature supermodel catwalk walk with a little coaching from moi or my mom salivating over how she scored another microwave (which by the way, brings the household total to somewher around 4) for under $20 at a garage sale; they are interesting, to say the least.
I'm not really sure what the point of this post is. Uh, like ma famillia es bonne??? ( i know, I know, i just mixed spanish and French there, whatever).
I guess my point is my family is crazy and annoying. But they are also loyal and fun.