An Open Letter to TMOC

Dear TMOC,

I want you to know that you used to by my favorite Uncle. That I used to enjoy all the time we spent together. Remember all those weekends I spent in T.O. with you? Those were some of my favorite memories. We used to go to the Eaton's Centre and play at the arcade, eat candy for breakfast and stay up all night watching scary movies. What happened? What happened that we couldn't enjoy spending time with each other? What changed so drastically? I think it's because I grew up, because I wouldn't listen to you anymore. I think it's because I wouldn't let you hurt me anymore.
Remember when I was three years old and I accidentally mixed the play - doh colors together for your Fuzzy Pumper Barber Shop? I do, because you have never let me forget.
Remember the time we were in the elevator and the doors wouldn't close and the fire alarm went off? You called me a "fucking idiot" and accused me of doing something to make the alarm go off.
This Summer, you came for a visit and complained the whole time. You complained because we didn't have a stove, you complained that your sleeping accomodations were not up to your standards. You spent no time with us, until the very last day and then you expected us to drop all our plans to be with you. We did this, because you are our uncle and we love you. We saw "Snakes on a Plane" and we had fun.
You never acknowledge us, until it is convient for you. And when we have other things going on, when we can't accomodate to you the world must end. I must have forgotten that this is the TMOC show and the world revolves around you.
I love you TMOC, I really do but you say and do a lot of things that hurt me. You embarass us in front of the rest of family. You tell everyone the most horrible things about us, often times these things are untrue. You drink, you have a drinking problem. I know that you don't see it but everyone else in the family does and despite your actions we love. You have your nose so far up Nannie's ass and why? You stick around Nannie because she has money and you hope that one day when she croaks, you'll get a chunk of her fortune. You know all the things Nannie has done and yet that doesn't seem to bother you. She abandoned three of her grandkids, she abandoned her daughter because a better one came along. I love Lucky, but I guess since we're not the superstar Lucky or you we aren't allowed to be members of the family. To be honest, this never bothered me until now. You used to spend every Christmas with us. I know things are changing. I know that you are getting married. I love your fiancee. She has always been a member of our family. I accept these changes. I was looking forward to the wedding but after tonight, I don't think that there is any going back. I don't know if I can find it in my heart to forgive you. They say some things are better left unsaid and you should have followed that advice.
There is one person that has always been a constant in your life. That person would be my mom and despite all the nasty things you have said and done to her she still loves you. She still calls you brother.
My grandfather raised you, he loved you and he treated you as his own. I know that science says otherwise but you seem to forget who raised you. I loved Donnie too and I know that science says he is your father but why can't you have two? Two people who loved you. Grandpa had your childhood and Donnie had your adulthood.
Aunt Josie thought you were the best thing on the face of the earth, but she found out what we already knew. When you came for a visit you couldn't take a few hours to go visit her. She was so heartbroken. Do you care? I don't think you do. I don't think you understand how you make anyone feel.
I am sorry, that I can't be what you want me to be. I am sorry that you don't remember all the "Thank You's" or the "I love you's." I don't understand what you want me from me. You say that you are not perfect and that you make mistakes, that you are human, but how can you expect me who is also human to not make mistakes?
I know that I have done things to hurt you as well, but here is the difference. I was a little kid, and in some ways I still am. Truth is, I am only 18, I'm not finished growing up.
One day, this will all be a distant memory to you and hopefully to me.
Until then,
xoxo
Me.

The Spirit of Christmas

The Spirit of Christmas is in full swing. The evil spirit of Christmas that is. You know, the one that makes everyone greedy, rude, obnoxious and absolutely unbareable.
I myself have witnessed the evil spirit of Christmas a few times this week.
As a cashier at a grocery store, I put up with a lot of crap. And I mean a lot. It's as if cashiers are not allowed to make mistakes, not allowed to be overwhelmed or completely stressed out.
With Christmas only a few days away, people are anxious to finish their shopping, buy all the food they will need over the next few days because we all know that the world is going to end because stores are going to be closed for ONE FULL DAY!
At work, we were understaffed. With eleven registers and only seven open, we could not meet the standards of customers. The grocery store I work it, is completely different than the competitors. We are a discount store meaning that we have really low prices when it comes to food, but the customers are required to purchase their own bags and pack their own groceries. Packing groceries for customers is not a service that we offer. But some cashiers such as myself will help customers who have large orders or need some assistance (such as the elderly) and this seems to piss off waiting customers.
It's ridiculous. People seem to be angered by small inconviences, especially around this time of year. I had one waiting customer complain to my manager that I was taking too long. It seems, that my helping a customer pack $400 worth of groceries was a problem. My manager did not understand what the problem was, because although this is not a service we offer, if there is no belt space and the customer is overwhelmed what are we (the cashiers)to do, stand around and watch as people struggle.
Another customer complained because he claimed that one cashier, did not greet him today. He continued to scream at the cashier, two managers and the bookkeeper. Finally, the manager told the customer that he would have to refrain from verbally abusing the employees or the police would be called.
Last night, I took an adventure to the corporate whore known as Wal -Mart in hopes of finishing up some Christmas shopping. I have a love/hate relationship with Wal -Mart. Anyways, I had been to at least four diffferent stores looking for one particular board game. I had been to Wal -Mart several times and every time I went, they were sold out. They always offered the reply "We will have more on Wednesday..." and my response was "Could you tell me which Wednesday?" When I arrived last night, I hunted down all the toy aisles for this one game. I finally found the very last one in the whole entire store. Another customer had her cart parked in front of it and was reaching to put it in her cart. And I must admit the evil spirit took over me for a brief moment. I intercepted her and grabbed the game. I dashed out of the aisle before this other customer could say anything to me. I paid for the game and held on to my purchase like it was a life or death situation. I know it was rather evil of me but the person I bought it for is going to LOVE it!
Although, I snatched the item from the other person, I wasn't rude or yelling at cashiers or other customers. I wasn't bowling them over with shopping carts or screaming at kids to stop running through the store. I haven't wrestled anyone to the floor for a toy, purse, watch etc.
What is it about this season that makes us all into vicious animals? What is so important that we must forget what the season is about? I'm going to be honest. I love presents, I love shopping for them , I like the anticipation and the excitement of it all. But I also love knowing, that I will spend Christmas Eve in church. That I will spend time with my family. I know that this is the one time a year you are guarenteed to visit with your extended family, see all your cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. This is what I love about the holidays.
I think that people lose sight of that with all the 'stuff' we feel obligated to buy one another. Sure, there are a few more things that I would like to buy my Mom and Dad tomorrow but I know that if I can't, they will be happy with what they have. They will love what I did get them, and they won't care about what I didn't get them. I know, that my Grandma is going to love the cookies I baked her. And it's not about the money I spent, but the time I put into making them and that I thought of her when I did it. My parents will feel the same way. They won't care how much I spent but rather the time and effort I put into picking out something that I thought they would really enjoy.
That's the thing about families, they don't care about money, what really matters is that you thought of them.
I used to hate Christmas because of the greed that surrounded it, but I realise now that, the season is what you make it. If you choose to be overwhelmed with greed and the evilness that surrounds this season then you too will start to hate Christmas. If you choose to make the best of the season, then you will enjoy Christmas and it won't matter that the rest of the population has turned themselves into animals.
It's all in your perception and no one elses.
That's it. I'm done my rant.
Have a Merry Christmas.

The Principles of Waiting

Today, I am sitting on pins and needles. I am waiting for the rest of my grades to appear online. These grades tell me whether I move on next semester or wait around a year. I have three classes which have not had the grades posted. These classes are my three worst...Presentation Skills, Priciples of Marketing and Advertising1.
Everyone has reassured me that if I failed, someone would have contacted me by now. But who knows? Maybe it' s a Christmas surprise. "Surprise you failed!" "Enjoy waiting around a year until you can retake these classes that you failed oh so miserably." This is what is going through my head. The rest of my classes I did farely well in, including Production Software. {Production Software was on Tuesdays at 8am. Half the time I showed up late, slept through the class, or talked to my friends on MSN. And to think I got 69% in that class.}
I'm so nervous. I check the student portal about four times a day, checking to see if any changes have been made. Nothing. I'm driving myself even more mad than I already am.
So here I sit, checking the student portal for the seventh time since I got home from work a few hours ago. I hate waiting. I have no patience. This is almost unbareable. I think I could stay up all night waiting for those numbers to appear on the student portal. This is the worst feeling ever. The next four months of my life rest in one teacher's hands and all she has to do is put the marks online. And what freaks me out the most is that all the other teachers have posted their marks even the ones who are really bad at handing back assignments and grades in a reasonable amount of time.
Okay, I will settle for one out of the three grades. Just one. Is that too much to ask?!!! Seriously.
I'm so restless. I wish this was like high school where they give you your report card a few weeks before Christmas Vacation and you know ALL your grades. And if you failed something, your parents had a full two weeks to pester you about it. They had two full weeks to lecture you and ground you and whatever else they felt necessary. Okay, this has never happened to me because I only ever failed one class in my whole entire life and I made up for the next year and in night school. And my parents knew that it was a possibility that I was failing this class because it was grade 10 university level math. They had seen many failed math tests and what not...but this? This is new and did I mention that I hate it!
I am freaking out. I need to know the grade for marketing at least especially after the assignment that I received 28% on.
Okay, maybe I won't stay up all night. I can guarantee that the teacher has not been up all night marking papers and entering the grades online. But I will say one last time that this is torture.
And no, I am not learning a lesson about patience or not always getting what you want when you want. I have waited two weeks now. Two full weeks!

Have a Urine Filled Christmas

Every day, my mom watches for the mail, in hopes of something other than a bill. And with the Christmas season upon us we all anticipate the arrival of Christmas cards. Today was no exception.
As we gathered around the pile of colored envelopes a horrid smell lingered on one red envelope and smacked us in the face. My mom ever so gracioulsy hands me the smelly envelope and says "Here, you can open this one." And since I had yet to open even one card, I willingly took the card and opened it. It was from my uncle TMOC. Also known as The Mayor of Crazyville. Now TMOC, has had several posts about him before. You can find them in the archives of Heidi the Hick's blog or Life or Something Like It's. You see my uncle TMOC is a rather interesting character with his obnoxious behavior, not so funny sense of humor and demanding attitude.
So, I opened this card to find that the image was runny and the scent was lingering along the card as well. As we checked the back of the envelope we noticed a small note that read "Personally scented by Ramona."
Ramona is TMOC's deranged cat, that pisses apparently everywhere. Yep, the cat had pissed on the card and the envelope and TMOC scent it this way even though it had been defiled.
Well, my mom and I burst out laughing because this was absolutely unbelieveable! My dad started in on a rant. A rant that included he has "seen crack heads who make more sense and what did we ever do to deserve this?" The ranting went on for over an hour and it included what my dad was going to do to get TMOC back. His plans included sending rabbit poo in a Coco Puffs box and anything else related to animal feces. Now, my dad wouldn't do this (I hope) but he was seriously upset and wanted to know what the hell goes on in TMOC's head. My dad also wanted to know what kind of idiot just doesn't go out and buy another box of 10 cent cards. A popular phrase today was "Why wouldn't you go just buy another box of cards? What do they cost $4? Here, I will send him the $4"
My mom and I couldn't stop laughing. I left for work laughing. I came home laughing. My dad is still not laughing.

"I Need $2 Dollars"

Last Tuesday, my mom and I took an adventure to Zellers to do some Christmas shopping.
As we entered the Zellers parking lot, my mom noticed one of the red Zellers shopping carts and upon seeing it she said to me "Let's take this cart because there is never any carts in the store."
So we dropped our purses into the carts and continued our way into the store.
We were shopping and we had been in the store for a good hour when I noticed a piece of cardboard on the front of the cart. The cardboard read "I need $2." That is when I realised that it was one of the local homeless men's cart we had taken.
Here we were pushing this cart around for at least an hour and I had two options... 1. tell my mom that she was pushing around the homeless guy cart or 2. let her keep shopping and not say a word. I knew damn well that I could not keep this to myself so I turned to tell her but I just started laughing hysterically. I crossed my legs in fear of peeing from laughing too hard and pointed to the front of the cart. I stuttered the words "You're pushing the homeless guy cart... and it says... hahahahahaha... I need....hahahhaha....two...(slowly falling over from laughter) hahahaha...dollars. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I burst out laughing I could no longer contain it.
My mom said "What? What do you mean?" as she came around to the front of the cart. She too started laughing and said "Help me get it off." This only made me laugh harder. First we steal the homeless guy cart and then we ruin his "I need two dollars" sign. I pulled my keys out of my purse and handed them to her, legs still crossed.
As she pleaded for help, I walked away because I knew that I could not stop laughing and that I was pretty damn close to peeing my pants.
I walked down two aisles and burst out laughing yet again and I could hear my mom laughing.
I went back to where she was and asked "Did you get it off ?"
She replied "Yes"
and I said "Can I see it?"
There was no answer we just kept walking away and giggling.

Beta Still Blows...and I hate/love my job

So, I've done some research as to why I can't switch to Beta. And here's why...it really is a stupid thing. Only certain templates for blogs have been switched to Beta. And apparently my blog/template is one of the few that has not been switched to Beta yet. How stupid is that???!! Seriously. So I just want you all to know that I am reading your Blogs, I'm just not allowed to comment on them, because I am not technologically developed yet. Stupid Beta.
And what does Beta mean? Anyone? Every time I hear the word Beta I think of the Betas from the 70's and the episode of That 70's Show. You know the one where Red buys the Beta and tells Kitty, that they aren't going to watch Roots, they are going to record it then watch it. But Red forgets to put the tape in and Kitty misses Roots. I think that I might watch a little too much television. Not exactly sure.
Anyways, here is a list of reasons I hate my job

• I'm not very good with people. Despite my rep as being one of the friendliest cashiers and I have never had a complaint against me, I still don't like people.
• I have to remember all these stupid codes, that once I get a career, I won't remember what I did yesterday but I will know the code for bananas.
• People always complain about prices with me. Seriously, I will have customers argue about the price of products when I know the price and I know they're wrong. But you know they always throw the "Customer is always right speil"
• I hate my stupid green shirt with yellow logo. Seriously who picked these colors? A blind man????
• I hate that I work, 30 hours a week, make $7.75 an hour and then the union and taxes take about $20 off my $200 cheque...every damn week.
• I hate that we sell bags. Why? Why must we be so cheap? That's why I always give them away.
• People are rude. I'm not kidding you. I have dealt with more rude people in the last six months or 345.75 hours than I have in my whole entire life.
• People let their kids run through the store, open packages, slober all over them and then ask you to scan the product..."Uh no, I don't want to touch that and no I don't think its cute that your little hellion opened up this package of crackers, threw them all over the store and now you don't want to buy it." But I love kids. Really, I do.
• Parents allow their children to climb on the conveyor belts, get behind the register with me and sometimes try to press buttons. In the end, the only buttons they are pressing are mine.
• It's not very challenging...any idiot could do this.
• I always get the creepy, dirty old men, who stare blankly at me, then throw in the occasional "I can't see your name tag" line and my reply as always is "I'm not wearing it."
• And when I do wear the name tag, I get the dirty old men who stare blankly and use my name in every sentence "How are you Adult in Question?" "How long have you worked here "Adult in Question" "You have beautiful eyes Adult in Question..." And you know exactly what they are staring at and let me tell you it is definately not my name tag.
• Oh and did I mention I work in the service industry andI hate people?

Now for Why I LOVE my job.

• I love the people I work with, even Anne who I had problems with before. We get along much better now.
• I can almost always get the time off I need except around holidays because I always forget to hand in my time request sheets. The bookkeeper, always schedules me around the days that I request. For example when I said I didn't want to work past 8pm on school nites or that certain days during the week weren't good for me she said "Okay, no problem. What days do you want to work?" and now that I'm on vaca, I asked for full time hours I got them.
• Despite the colors of the uniform, I can wear whatever black pants I want...including track pants and jeans. Although, they can get touchy about jeans. Just depends who is in office.
• I'm not stuck in a kitchen frying up grease burgers and fries with a diet soda. Also, this gets rid of the icky, grease scent, that no matter how many times you bathe you still smell because it never goes away.
• I like saying "Would you like bags with that?" instead of "Would you like fries with that?" it's all about preferences people.
• It gives me money. Money, that I love to spend.
• Oh and I smell the sweet scent of promotion because I have been training to work in office.

Beta Blows

I have been trying for the last hour to switch to Beta because it won't let me leave comments on anyone's blog. Google won't let me switch so I officially give up. I won't be able to leave comments until I can switch. And since I can't switch there will be no comments. Blogger blows. And so does Blogger Beta.

Johnny Cash -

Today was a very busy day. Extremely busy. I dropped off assignmets, did some Xmas shopping. Had lunch with Bridgey and then went to work. After the hellishly long shift and being in exile also as known as the Xpress lane. I went out and had to do some more Christmas shopping.
I decided that I would bake some Sugar cookies and Gingerbread cookies. Thanks to little dough boy and Dad, I pumped out 5 dozen cookies. I baked the Gingerbread cookies for my Grandma and since she is sick, I might bring them by her house tomorrow with some Tim Horton's coffee.
I spent two and a half hours baking, decorating and separating cookies for their designated relative. I also sorta made my own icing. Okay I took some Vanilla icing and added food coloring to it so that I would have the colors I wanted. By the time I had baked about three dozen I felt as though I couldn't go on, that it was time to give up but I just couldn't I was hooked like the time Heidi and I podged the Johnny book for KK. It was so tiring and I thought of my friends who work 8 hour shifts as bakers and I couldn't imagine standing there doing that for hours.
I waited until KK and J came home to bake the sugar cookies but they wanted no part in helping me. And to be honest a part of me was disappointed that they didn't want to help me. But I finished up the cookies and hoped that maybe over the holidays we would get a chance to bake more cookies, only this time that we could do it together.
All is well though, we have five dozen cookies to share together.
Newayz, I am extremely tired and my season of Fat Actress came in the mail today. So I'm going to watch the episode where Kirstie has peeps.
xoxo.
The Adult in Question

Yesterday Could Have Been Better

Yesterday was unbelieveable and not in the good way. I was meeting my Dad to help him finish up the gas/water drama. My dad phoned me and asked me to get in a cab and meet him at City Hall. So, I did this and he said that he would pay the cab driver when we finished paying the bill and we would use this same cab driver to get home. It was taking a little longer than expected so my Dad asked me to go out and tell the cab driver it would be a few more minutes but not to worry. Well, the cab driver less than pleased with my response, grabbed me and tried to pull me into the cab. I jumped back and when I did this he tried to pull my wallet and my cell phone out of my hand. He couldn't get the wallet but he did grab the cell phone. The cab driver wanted me to leave something behind because he thought that I wasn't going to return and that I was going to rip him off of his fare. [But here's the thing, we use that cab company so much that most of the cab drivers know us by name, know where we live and when we see them shopping or run in to them somewhere they talk to us. They ask how's school, how's your family etc.] He did this and I ran back into City Hall to get my Dad. When I got there my Dad was finished and on his way out to meet me at the cab. I told him what was going on and my Dad started marching out to the cab. We went outside to where the cab was parked and my Dad asked him why he would do that? Why would he attack a girl? He told the cab driver there was no need for it because the cab driver not only knows where we live but we use this particular cab company exclusively. The cab driver started swearing and yelling at us. My dad asked how much the fare was and asked for the phone back. The fare was $10.50 and so my Dad gave him $15 for the ride and asked for the phone back. The cab driver rolled up his car window and tried to drive away. My dad stuck his arm in the window and tried to get the phone back. The cab driver just continued to roll up the window, so I stuck my hand in the window and started flapping it around trying to grab the phone. Well, the driver put the phone behind his back and started to drive away with our hands in his car. Just then an elderly woman and a big black lady approached us and asked what was going on. I explained to her hysterically what this man was trying to do. Well, the elderly woman stood in front of his car so he couldn't drive away. And the big black lady got in the passenger side of the car and would not get out until he gave us back the phone. We got the phone back and immediately called the cab company to report him. The cab company was willing to do nothing. We started walking away and wanted to get home. Well, the cab driver wasn't finished. He followed us in his car, swearing and yelling obsceneties at us. He also said he was phoning the police. My Dad, said "Yeah, that's a good idea." And he waited, and he waited and the cab driver finally said "I didn't call the police. I will see you after work. I know where you live and I will get you then." He then procceeded to spit on my Dad's face.
When we finally got home, we phoned the cab company again and asked for Head Office. They refused to give us the number for Head Office and said there was nothing they could do because he was the owner of the vehicle.
Later that night my Mom and I went grocery shopping (used the other cab company) and asked them what the procedures were for something like this. The driver said to contact the region. That the region controls the cab companies. So we have decided that we will be contacting the region and possibly the newspaper. I have also decided that I will never get in another cab alone. Because after all this, I took a cab home from a friend's house last night and it was a different cab company but again, the driver made me leave something of value in the car, while I ran in the house to get the money for the cab from my Mom. It makes me uncomfortable to leave my belongings in someone's car. Someone I don't know. And the more I think about it, what makes someone want to get in the car of a stranger. What makes cab drivers trust worthy?
In the end, we don't know these people and yet trust them to drive us from point A to point B. We trust them to drive kids to school, we trust them to drive us home when we're drunk, to take our elderly to the grocery store and anywhere else we need to go. The more I think about it, is it really safe to get in a stranger's car even if they work for a cab company, even if they have a little piece of laminated paper with their picture and a number telling us that they work for this company. This is just one more reason for me to save up and get my G1.

WANTED

Male
Age: 18- 21
Must have job, education at least high school
Must practice good hygiene. (I know this sounds ridiculous but you should see the scrubs out here)
Must be taller than me 5'7 at least...
Must be single. I mean it...
Must be somewhat insane...not the scary kind. The fun kind. Like me.

Is this really too much to ask????

Fight scene (Degrassi 604)

This is the sweetest fight scene ever!!! I love it. I like when the guy gets taken out by the mascot headpiece. I have yet to see what goes in the rest of this episode, but I know it will be good.

Extra Special - Late Breaking News

Homework has been overwhelming me this week but I only have one and a half assignments left to complete. Then I am free from that place of torture. But...here is some extra special, late breaking news. The presentation that I did last week that I thought I did absolutely horriblly on was apparently not so bad. The presentation was worth 30% of my final mark and I got a 96% on it. Apparently I don't suck that much!!! WOOT!!! I still feel as though I am not destined to stay in the advertising field, but at least now I'm not so concerned about passing the program. I also received a creative assignment where I only got 73% but the prof said it was portfolio quality and that in the near future he would like to help me reevaluate some of the elements incorporated in the design so that I will have it for my portfolio. Then he gave me a really nice folder to keep the poster in and I was the only one who received the extra special portfolio. So I would just like to take a moment to say to the Overachievers in my class and uh the Geoffanies (who I will explain another day) "IN YOUR FACE!!!!" And for the Geoffanies I have a few other choice words but I'll keep those ones to myself.
But I am off now, to make myself a celebratory cake.

Weekend Recap

I had a semi busy weekend. Nothing I couldn't handle.

Friday- I FINALLY saw Borat and was somewhat unimpressed. It was more racist and disgusting than I expected. Why didn't any one tell me that there was nudity but fat, hairy male nudity...All my friends saw and yet they did not warn me. Thanks guys. It did have some funny parts like when he threw the sack over Pamela Anderson. That was good. It was about time someone threw a sack OVER her instead of throwing her into one. After my hot date to the movies and the coffee pub with Sarah from work I was recruited to the Club. Yeah L called me and told me about this small problem she had. You see I HAD to go with her because she had three dates and she needed me to take one. Thankfully, only two of them showed up. But unfortunately the man meat I wanted was the one she took. She left me with country boy man meat who I have only met once before. She helped herself to the City Man Meat who is drop dead gorgeous. But unfortunately L is my best friend but if she was just an acquaintance or what not, he would totally be fair game. So I did my best with Country Man Meat who is really polite and kind and sweet but .... it's not the same. Country Man Meat is not a dancer. Which sucks. It sucks because even though I have no rythm whatsoever I love to dance. I really do. I could dance all day and night if it didn't stress out certain people I live with. So after being pushed around on the dance floor because once again the Club was beyond capacity. Greedy club owners. It's bad enough that they charge a $10 cover and then jack the price of drinks up to $3 - for a glass of tap water....Are you kidding me? At the college bars you can get drunk for $20 because drinks are $1.75. Someone please tell me where the logic is in that? So after dancing for what seemed like 20 minutes it was last call. Which meant it was about 2am. Oh I forgot to mention the angry lesbian manning the door who wouldn't let anyone in because we were not in a single file line outside. Yeah, it took about L and her crew about half an hour to get in the door but I on the other hand, slowly crept up the line to the front. Then when someone said something to me about I said "Excuse me, but I have been out for an hour and you and your cigarette smoking, pot head friends went around the corner did your 'business' and then cut in front of me." Needless to say, they let me in before they went in and then inside they were nice to me. They didn't try to cut a bitch which was extremely surprising because since that is usually the way it goes there.
Saturday, I had to get up at the crack of dawn. Okay 10 am. I had to go to work. Where for the first time in about a month it was insanely busy. And we didn't even have anything spectacular on special. So there I was with what seemed like the world's longest shift when half way through an order my shoulder locked. Good times at FB. I had to call an office girl to come out and finish the order so I could go fix myself. Finally, my shift ended and I was able to go home and get ready to go the work Xmas party. Where we paid for our own meals and received some gifts that were clearly re-gifted. I received five hockey tickets for a game that was not in town. Thanks... did I mention I don't drive and don't watch hockey? So I sold them for $20. I also received a bag of men's soap and some candy. But thankfully, my gift was not the worst. My front end supervisor who is allergic to peanuts received a bag full of Planter's assorted nuts. And CP who is not so cute anymore because he is a total asshat received a knapsack full of Kleenex, a planner/organizer that was seven years old and some sparkly, very girly school accessories. Also, he's 20 years old. And not in any form of school, okay the school of life for losers. I'm glad that I enjoy the people I work with and get along with them fantastically because otherwise it would have been the worst four hours of my life. So just as I was leaving a co-worker came up to me in a drunken stupor asking where I was going. When I explained that I needed to go home because my ride was leaving he wanted me to wait, he wanted a hug. And apparently he had something to tell me. I gave him this really half- assed awkward hug and left because I had the distinct feeling another co- worker was going to profess their love for me. I know that part sounds made up but I have been asked out by four different people at work and I have learned my lesson from CP so I just reject now. I'm very good at it. It starts off with "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't think it's a good idea to date people I work with. " If they try to respond to that...then I just use the line, it's not you, it's me. World's lamest line but I gotta get myself outta the awkward situation somehow. And surprisingly, we get along great even after the awkward "it's not you, it's me" thing. (Any one have some suggestions for new lines????). So I left the party and came home where I was invited to go to Laser Quest. Who knew that Laser Quest was open at 11pm? I didn't go. I don't quite understand what Laser Quest is and I'm a little afraid. Like the multiple times I was invited to go Paintballing and refused. Seriously, what fun is there is shooting pellets of paint at people? And the boys who do this always come back bruised and sore and I ask the unneccessary question of "How is this fun???" I stayed up watching the tube until 2am and went to bed.
Sunday/Today. Was a day dedicated to working on final projects that I don't understand and know that I am going to fail. I spent about four hours on homework and finishing projects when
I decided that I give up. I've checked my notes, I've read the text book. I still don't understand this. I tried my best and now all I can hope for is to get a passing grade such as 55%. Yeah, I'm going to aim low. Very low. I talked to some people from my class but they left all the assignements until today and are pulling all nighters. I couldn't do it. I'm so glad and thankful that I started these projects a while ago and really only had to tie up loose ends. And I realise that I am not the only one who does not understand what is going on. So, I am keeping my fingers crossed...all week.

But FYI....
-in 173 days Pirates of the Carribbean 3 comes to the theatre. For the mathematically impaired that's May 25th.
- 92 days until my birthday.
-21 days until Xmas
-2 more sleeps until Pirates 2 is on DVD
- and 5 days of class left for me [and then I don't go back until Jan 8th]!!!!!

Marky Mark
















Jason Wiles













Eddie Cibrian


















James Marsters








Jake Gylenhaal

Billy Idol






Jacob Young


















Jacob Hoggard

















Christopher Meloni















John Stamos





































Jon Bon Jovi





David Boreanaz











Anothony Kiedis

Can You Feel It Baby?

My list of crushes is only going to contain those of celebrity status and not the real life losers I have encountered. But maybe someday, when I am feeling confident I will post the humiliating real life crushes that have ended oh so badly.

So here they are in alphabetical order.

A is for Anthony Kiedis. Sure you can't touch him...AT ALL. But he's a fascinating character. I mean I have read his book, I know where he's been and yet I still love him. I think he could talk his way into anything. Which I probably why many people say that if given the chance I would not be allowed to meet him. But check out his devilish grin.

B is For Billy Idol. The world's hottest old man, who I almost touched. Oooh that would have been exciting. Sure I would have needed medical attention afterwards because he contains more diseases than...(insert something intelligent here).

C is for Christopher Meloni. He's Detective Stabler on Law and Order. He's mostly a good cop with this emotional train wreck of his life. But I still love him. He played a gay man on Oz. But that doesn't matter. I got to see his bum.

D is for David Boreanaz. He's the vampire with a soul. His character was so tortured between right and wrong. He was probably my first real crush next to Jordan from New Kids on the Block when I was two years old. Now he's all dark and mysterious and unfortunately married.

E is for Eddie Cibrian. The smokin' hot firefighter from Third Watch. Third Watch was full of eye candy. And unfortunately it's only on in reruns but still worth watching.

Let's jump to the letter J. And hold on because there are A LOT of them.

J is for Jake Gylenhaal. He's such a cutie. And in Jarhead you get to see him wear nothing except a Santa hat.

J is for Jacob Hoggard. This Canadian rocker is quite the card. He has a stage presence like you would not believe. My love for him started a few years ago, watching Canadian Idol with Heidi. I hate that show but for one season...it was my fav. Oh and did I mention I got to touch him and meet the band. Yeah, that footage is on youtube somewhere. Don't look for it. I look like a fool.

J is for Jacob Young. Resident bad boy on All My Children. Need I say more.

J is for James Marsters. The bad vampire turned good. Thanks to that little thing called a soul he went and got for Buffy. Something about proving to Buffy he was worthy of her love. Whatever. He looks like Billy Idol. And he can play the guitar. People in Australia love him and so do I.

J is for Jason Wiles. Hot cop with a bad attitude from the show Third Watch.

J is for Jon Bon Jovi. What can I say I have something for guitar players.

J is for John Stamos. I have nothing to say. I'm too busy looking at him.

M is for Marky Mark. Hence the title "Can You Feel It Baby?" Sure, he tried to rap. He was also a model for Calvin Klein. Now he's an actor. I don't care what he is. Just look at him.

So now that you have survived my list of celebrity crushes...I anticipate the comments. Also Blogger is a huge pain in my ass and won't post photos. I will try again later but this will be the fourth attempt so...damn you blogger. Damn you.

I was sitting in my kitchen tonight eating dinner alone because apparently I am too loud and interrupting the ever important television show Law & Order when I had a flow of thoughts. Which is extremely surprising since I have been up since six am, was at school for six hours and just worked for five and half. I'm tired. I won't lie. I know that I am supposed to be writing my Crush list, researching Red Bull and writing reports. And the list of things I am supposed to be doing I can't be bothered with. Why? Because there are so many other things going on in my head and I can't focus and they all surround school.
I hate my program. I want to drop out but I don't want to be a cashier in a grocery store forever. I don't understand half of the material and I can't do presentations and unfortunately we do a lot of math and a lot of presentations. The two things that I could not do to save my life. I keep telling myself that the more I do this and the more I practice the better I will get but I haven't gotten there yet. I hate it. I hate not being successful, I hate not being the know - it - all. I hate the shitty marks I keep getting and I can continue to ask for help, I can continue to study and go to the library and ask friends for help but it's not making a difference. And I'm frustrated because I don't know what to do with my life or even for the next few years. I don't know where to start and I don't know how to make this end. I'm stuck in the middle and not in the fun way. I have about eight assignments due Monday and I have one of them done. I"m slowly sinking and I hate it but I feel as though there is nothing I can do about it.
So now that I have whined and complained I feel a little better. I promise that tomorrow's entry will be Wacky Wednesday containing my list of crushes possbily including my real life crushes.

Manic Monday

Today is a day full of randomosity. I'm serious, get ready for this y'all. {This is a super long entry.}
I actually went to school today only to find out that my teacher was sick and wouldn't be in at all. Which means we have two work periods...so I stayed for a couple hours did some work and then another class was scheduled for my computer lab so I had to leave and wouldn't be able to get in for at least three hours. And unfortunately that is the only computer lab that has the software that I needed. I printed off all my work, packed up my books and came home. So now I am at home writing to you - my fans.
First off, I have been tagged to blog about my crushes but that's for tomorrow or some other day.

Second, I'm not sure what this is but I like it. Okay I know what it is. It's the Scissor Sisters and quite frankly they are frightening to watch but I like to listen to them. I have been listening to them all weekend. They are disco sounding according to my parents who have suffered through them all weekend. I'm completely addicted to them and I know that they are weird and what not but for some reason I can't turn them off.

Third - Saturday nite my Dad and I met KK at the bus stop so she wouldn't have to walk home alone in the dark. However we got on the topic of how little kids often make up secret languages to communicate with one another. Well my Dad told us about his secret language with his friends. Which he apparently kept until he was about fourteen years old. This was hilarious. And it gets better. He gave us an example. I'm not sure of the exact pronunciation. But here goes. Push De Malaka try saying it like this PUSH - DEE - MA -LA -KAW.
He used to yell Push De and if his friend was around his friend would respond with Malaka. Then to demonstrate on the way home, my Dad started yodelling this phrase "Push De Malaka." Yes. I'm sure the neighbors loved this at 10pm. He told me to keep this a secret and not to tell my mom but I could not hold something this juicy inside. I burst through the front door and told my mom this and she laughed hysterically. So, now we have this running joke in our house. We have decided next time we loose him in the mall or somewhere we are just going to holler "Push De" and wait for him to respond with "Malaka" like a foreign version of Marco Polo.

Fourth - I don't think my Grandma listens to me. She stopped by on the weekend with my baby cousin who looks exactly like J. Exactly. It's a little creepy. But anyways moving on. My Grandma said she wanted to visit with me this week and asked what days I was working. I told her that I was working Tuesday and Thursday. I told her that I have class until four pm on Mondays and Wednesdays. So after I told her this she asked "So is Tuesday a good day to come by?" And once again I explained to her that I had a five and a half hour shift that night. And she said okay then I will see you Tuesday night." And with that she left. Thanks Grandma. I'm so glad you heard a word I said.

Fifth and this is the last thing I promise. It is hilarious. This was sent to me from a classmate and it gave me a good laugh this afternoon.

Guess this speaks to how it pays to be polite (or you never know what can happen!!!
Well.... Here goes:
As I promised my girlfriend, I started anger management classes recently...
The instructor told us that the best way to get a hold of your anger was to do something constructive with your anger and channel it to a project which will bring you satisfaction... so....
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.
A man answered, saying "Hello." I politely said,
"This is John. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f***'in number!" and the phone was slammed down on me.
I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.
When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an asshole!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.
Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole!"
...It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "asshole calling" would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is James Smith from the Verizon. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!".. and hung up.
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me.
I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window which included his phone number, so I wrote down the number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole, too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
"Yes, it is", he said.
"Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.
"Yes, I live at 3412 Taft Street, in Hollywood. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" I asked. "My name is Don Hansen," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
"Don, you're an asshole!"
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. Then I came up with an evil plot.... I called Asshole #1. "Hello."
"You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.)
"Are you still there?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Stop calling me," he screamed.
"Make me," I said.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Don Hansen" - I said in a very deep voice.
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"Asshole, I live at 3412 Taft Street, in Hollywood, what's a pantywaste like you going to do about it?
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don.
And you had better start saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole," and hung up.
Then I called Asshole #2.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hello, asshole," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are."
"You'll what?" I said! "
I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 3412 Taft Street, in Hollywood and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called news channel 9 about the gang war going down on 3412 Taft Street.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Taft.
I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.
NOW I feel much better.... SATISFIED Anger management really works..

Me + Nyquil = Bad Gwen Dreams

So since I have been sick I have been doing lots of sleeping. And I mean lots of sleeping as in 14 hours in one day. Plus I called in sick to work so there's been none of that since Tuesday.
But anyways I will get to my point. Over the last couple days I had bizarre dreams about Gwen Stefani. Specifically me telling her off kinda dreams.

In my dreams I ranted and raved about everything from my previous post on Gwen (sorry the link isn't working but it's in my archives for November 13th). I complained about the whole Harajuku girls, the continual use of the abbreviation of LAMB. And why she is yodelling in her latest song? Which don't tell anyone about this is kinda catchy. Damn you Gwen Stefani! Damn you! Anyways in my dream I went on about why the Harajuku girls are wearing blonde wigs and dressing exactly like her in her latest music vid. I don't get it. I can't understand it and don't think I ever will.

But enough about Gwen. I slept for 14 hours today and feel a little better. Actually alot better. Apparently sleep is the cure all for me.

I didn't go to school because I have just felt that craptastic but I'm returning to work tomorrow and I have Sunday off. I went and picked up my cheque tonite because we don't have direct deposit. Total pain in the ass but I went in, got my cheque and FB was surprisingly, overwhelmingly busy and I laughed. I laughed because I was not scheduled to work and they had all newbies in on the the weekend. Which if you ask me is stupid because 1) even though the last couple fridays have been dead it is still friday. 2) It's less than a month away from Xmas and you put all newbs on cash. And all the managers were in a panic because the lines were outrageously long and all the cashiers were extremely stressed. So in my typical style I did a mad dash through the store grabbed my cheque, wrote down my hours and ran outta that store like a bat outta hell. I did not want to run the risk of being asked to jump on a register. There was no way I was doing that.

After flying outta FB I raced over to the mall, cashed my cheque and promptly spent it. A little on me, a little on Xmas gifts and was outta there ASAP. Wal Mart around this time is somewhat violent being that Wal Mart is just another corporate whore selling cheap items with cheap prices and no customer service. People get extremely greedy about Christmas and I won't lie I love presents. I love the excitement, I love the food. I love the time off school. But I don't think that bowling people over with carts in Wal Mart to get that "perfect" gift is really what Christmas is about. (Unless its the brown PJ's from La Senza that I am dying for. Then I give my mom full permission to knock people over)I really have a strong love - hate relationship with Wal Mart. But we will save that for another time.

So I will be seeing Borat this weekend. I don't care who goes with me. I want to see it that badly. And I plan on going to the mall to get my picture taken with Santa. I don't care how old I am. I want my picture taken with Santa. And there is the possibility that I will post it on blog world.

But that is all for tonite. I am going to go back to flopping on the couch and watching Season Nine of Friends.

xo

Meh - thats the word to describe today

Today I am sick. With an ugly cold. You know the kind that requires snot running down your face, watery eyes and the choking cough.
Yep, that's the one I have. And no amount of tea is making it go away although it does feel nice on your sore throat.
I didn't go to school. I tried not to move too much and my mom feels the same way. Except the only difference between her and me is that I've had about 12 hours of sleep while my mom has had about two.
So much for going to see Borat tonight and getting my picture taken with Santa. I guess it will just have to wait until the weekend. Like everything else. But the good news is that I have the next two Sundays off because I took them off to finish up projects for school and then I will be working full time during Xmas Vacation.
Catch up with you all later.
xo.
P.S. I will tell you later about my dream about telling Gwen Stefani off and coming up with the term Gwenappy.

And I hope to God I figure out what's wrong

Our Lady Peace - 4 am

How can science tell me that someone who has never raised me, who has never been there for me and abandoned me at the age of five is my father.
He's all I think about recently. This weekend was his birthday and I thought about him but it only upset me.
I often wonder if he thinks about me half as often as I think about him. I wonder if he regrets all the birthdays and Christmas' he missed.
I often wonder what he is doing at this exact moment? Does he know how much I used to miss him? Does he know all the nights I cried for him? I often asked myself what I did wrong? What was wrong with me? What pushed him away from me?
Eventually the tears stopped and I stopped wondering. I figured out that him not coming around was nobody's fault except his own. I was seven years old, there is nothing in this world that I could have done wrong.
When I figured out that I did nothing wrong, I had this overwhelming feeling of hate. But then I considered how do you hate someone you don't know? You can't. You can't hate someone you don't know.
You can't really show emotion for someone you don't know. I choose not to know him. Because the version of him that I do know, scares me. He only comes around in December and makes demands. Then he returns again around my birthday. He claims he wants me to visit him and go out with him and be a part of his life. He only gives me birthday/christmas gifts if I visit with him. But that soon fades away until the following December. He says that he is sorry for all the time that he has missed. But I don't believe a word of it. I don't believe the words of someone who comes around twice a year to disrupt my life and make me cry. I think that if he cared, that he loved half as much as he said he does, he wouldn't put me through the emotional roller coaster. I don't really have any memories that are truly good and the stories my mom has told me are her memories not mine.
And the saddest part of all is that I know when he dies and I stand over that casket I will have so many regrets. I will regret not knowing him. I will regret not giving him another chance. I will regret so many things even though I know they weren't my fault. And I know that I will have nothing kind to say about him because I have yet to see the kind part of him.
This is all I have, this song that I heard so many years ago in his van as he picked me up for a hellish weekend at his house. {It's a pretty good description of our relationship.}
My last words to him were about two years ago and they were "I hate you and I don't want you in my life anymore" - I know one day I will never forgive myself for screaming those words through the phone but that day has yet to come.
And in my mind, the person I call father has nothing to do with science. It has to do with the love, support and guidance he has given me. The person I refer to as Dad, has raised me for the last five years, he has seen me graduate, he has been there when I blow out candles, he has been there on Christmas morning when I open my gifts. He has been there, he has loved me, he has accepted me and in the end that's all that matters.

Why my mom says I can't listen to Zepplin

I'm not a huge Led Zepplin fan and I don't even know if I'm spelling their name right but I have to tell you this. I just finished a conversation with my mom as to why I should not listen to that band. Truth be told I really only like the song "Ramble On" Anyways thats what I was listening to when it began the conversation that Zepplin is Pot Smoking music. Here's how the conversation went. . .

Mom: I thought we agreed this was pot smoking music

Me: Yes, but I like this song and we know that I am way too cheap for pot.

Mom: This is true but I don't want to listen to this

Me: Why?

Mom: Because I'm not smoking weed.

Me: laughing uncontrollably

Mom: Well not anymore I mean - I'm not doing drugs anymore. It's not like I did them last week. Besides you know I can't do drugs.

Me: Why not?

Mom: Because they don't do anything for me.

This is the jist of the conversation. My mom is a spaz and we just finished the conversation as to why she can't do drugs.

But please go down and read about Brit and K-Fed.

Oh How I wish to be a CELEB-RIITAAY

Seems that Ms. Spears latest problem is Fed-X's threats of releasing a sex tape between the two of them. He hopes by blackmailing her with this tape he can achieve his true goals which is $30 Million dollars and the custody of their two children. I have some comments for this ...

1. When will celebrities stop making sex tapes? Don't they know that when a scorned lover gets pissed off, they are going to release this hideous monstrosity that is K-Fed and Brit doing the deed. Or do we have to revisit the Paris Hilton Sex Tape fiasco again?

2. Does Kevin know how to count or has he forgotten the two others he abandoned so he could shack up with Britney?

But there is that incriminating evidence
of Britney driving with Sean Preston on her lap.
That might come back to bite her in the ass, yet again.

3. Does Fed X know that black mail is illegal? I guess not. Especially since he can't remember that he has FOUR children. Good luck getting custody of your kids after you black mail their mother and was spotted stealing your meal from a high end restaraunt in LA. (Yes he was spotted stealing his dinner. He and about 12 wannabe rappers went into a restaurant spent $1200 on dinner and while the waitress was putting the meals in to doggy bags as requested by K-Fed he stole the wine and ran out.)

4. Aside from blackmail, stealing meals and trying not to get himself beat up for recording an album he is going after spousal support. You know most people would try and gain some self respect here, you know like get a real job, find an apartment and try to set up a normal life for himself and prove that he can be a decent father. Nope he's still going to try and mooch off Brit. And for the first time I feel sorry for her. Sorry that she was stupid enough to marry this low life and have not one, but two children with him.

I think Brit will get custody for many reasons and in the words that Brit text messaged to K-Fed "I h8 u loser"

Oh, if only I were a celebrity. I would be Brit's friend right now, she really needs someone to say to her..."You're doing the right thing by dumping K-Fed but you're doing the wrong thing by going around with your hair in that bob you call a haircut."

Abba - Mamma Mia (1975)

I know this is rather random...
But for Interpersonal and Group Dynamics we are the review team this week. So basically, we have to find a creative way to review the material from the text book and share it with the class. And each week IGD has a theme created by the Executive Team. The Executive team is the group who starts the class, ends the class, provides and agenda for the day's class as well as thanks the students for participating. It's a whole lotta work for an elective course. So now you're wondering what ABBA has to do with this ...well I'm getting there. The Executive Team decided that the theme would be Broadway Musicals because it ties into the chapter we are studying. (The chapter we are studying is about Cohesion and working together to create something unique.) So since we are the review team we wrote a song using the Key Terms from the chapter and it is to the song Mama Mia by ABBA. Today was our first rehearsal for the song. So since ABBA is stuck in my head, it should be stuck in your head as well. SO ENJOY!!

P.S. I finally figured out links.

Oh Gwen! When are you going back to your band?

There are many reasons why I hate Gwen Stefani... too many to count.
And it's a shame. It really is because when she was with her band NO DOUBT she rocked.
She was a cool chick but now she is Gwen Stefani, creator of crap.
And that crap includes her fashion line LAMB which stands for get this....Love, Angel, Music, Baby...oh if she were a rich girl. Her crap also includes her solo debut album titled Love, Angel, Music, Baby. More of her crap includes Harajuku girls which are girls that follow her around and are not allowed to speak to the public because and I quote from an interview I say on TV...."Oh you can't talk to them, don't ask them anything." Yes, this was her response when an interviewer asked her about her posse known as the HARAJUKU GIRLS. Her lack of use of a thesaurus and her unique fashion sense make her an easy target for my criticism.
Now to make fun of her lyrical genius...oh which song to choose first, there are so many. Let's go in order of her releasing them.

1. What are you waiting for?
"Look at your watch now You're still a super hot female You got your million-dollar contract And they're all waiting for your hot track" and my fav line..."I can't wait to go back and do Japan Get me lots of brand new fans Osaka, Tokyo You Harajuku girls Damn, you've got some wicked style" - Well I guess we now know where she got her posse and why...

2. Rich Girl
Stole some lines from Fiddler on the Roof... need I say more

3. Holla Back Girl
"I heard that you were talking shit And you didn't think that I would hear it People hear you talking like that, getting everybody fired up So I'm ready to attack, gonna lead the pack Gonna get a touchdown, gonna take you out That's right, put your pom-poms down, getting everybody fired up A few times I've been around that track So it's not just goin' to happen like that Because I ain't no hollaback girl I ain't no hollaback girl" Gwen this song is shit.

4. Cool
Okay, I like this song and it's decent - no need to pick on it.

5. Luxurious
This is Latino inspired...I think. That's as far as I can tell and in the video she holds up her Addida flip flop to the camera...What is that product placement?

6. Crash
This song is so bad that it leaves me speechless. There is absolutely nothing I can say. This song is like a car crash and unfortunately I have seen the video for it. Here's a taste of this crap she calls a song -"Drive back baby to me, fast in your car I'm here waiting, crash into me real hard."

7. Wind it up
This song I stole off the internet. Because I heard part of it on the radio and could not belive my ears. It contains yodelling. Apparently she samples it from the Sound of Music. I have never seen this movie all the way through but I would like to know when Gwen is going to come up with something of her own. She really needs to stop stealing other people's music. (And don't tell me to take my own advice.)

Okay, what next a full description of the Harajuku girls or her lack of fashion sense including her fashion line.

I pick Harajuku girls for $500, Alex.
First of all are you so insecure of yourself that you must hire a posse to follow you around? Second, why aren't they allowed to speak? They are people. Not your minions. You tool. Thirdly, why do you need them, do you really think that this is a positive image you should be sending to the youth? Also, why did you name each one and why did you choose the same name as your album and clothing line. Who can take anybody seriously with the names Love, Angel, Music or
Baby? I can't talk about this anymore. It is way too stupid.

Last but certainly not least... her fashion line or should I say, "Fabric that got stuck in the sewing machine stuck together and I call it a shirt line"Once again, she has used the brilliant name LAMB which is the abbreviation for ...don't make me go there again. I did some research into her clothing line. Okay, I looked at the attrocities she calls clothes. If you go to www.kitson.com (P.S. Anthony Kiedis shops at Kitson in LA) they sell her clothes there including her latest fashion line entitled Harajuku Lovers.

I am not a Harajuku, LAMB lover and I am no longer a Gwen lover. I will never be a Gwen lover ever again. I have no respect for someone who hires four Japanese women to follow her around and not speak. I will not respect someone who flat out says "Yeah I go to Japan but only to get more fans" and I will never purchase her album but I will steal it off the internet. Oh Gwen, if only you had stayed with your band - they were cool. And you have this whole fan base.

P.S. Once again Blogger has ruined my attempts to make a decent post and won't let me upload photos. I will try again later.

Well, this is uh...interesting?

I don't know if anybody watches Wife Swap or Trading Spouses, but in this house certain members do and the rest of us just kinda get sucked in to watching it as well. Well on Wife Swap about a month ago, they featured a family of pirates. Yes, you heard me...pirates. And I must admit, it was hilarious. To watch a family dressed in pirate fashion and call each other names such as Captain and Wench. There's nothing classier. And they had swords and their house was a mess to say the least. . .
So today, I was researching the shows, okay...well I wanted to check out the legalities and such but couldn't find anything. The networks are really keeping their dirty laundry a secret. I couldn't find much except for the pirate family's website and some footage of Mad Sally on youtube.
So if you really want to get some pirattitude check out their website.

www.talklikeapirate.com

or go to youtube.com and search for Mad Sally/Talk like a pirate.

It really is different.

Some Days

Some days I love my job. Other days I hate it. Today I am undecided.
I don't want to be a lifer at my job because lets face it, it's a minimum wage, hell hole with a few perks. Those perks would be the people I work with, I absolutely love them. I really do and my managers love me...they let me get away with almost anything and I have no idea why. The things I cam get away with no one else can...its great. I get along with all the managers except one and she knows who she is and she knows why.
But anyways, today I was dragging my feet because I didn't want to go into work, I didn't want to deal with people, I just couldn't be bothered to do the whole work thing. But I went, I marched through the doors and got ready to wear my green polyester sweater ( I don't care if green is my color, nobody looks good in polyester - cruel and very unusual). Here's the thing, I know once I get to work, that I will have a good time because there is always someone that I get along with.
So I went, slid my badge through the punch clock and got ready to do stuff but to my surprise someone in office trusts me enough to train another cashier. But here's where it gets interesting, she barely speaks English. Fun...I know.
So I introduced myself, asked her what she had already been taught and if she knew her operator number. so, this was going well because she sorta knew what she was doing. And I kept reminding myself of the difficulty I had when I first started. But this girl was soooo slooooowwww. Slower than slow. And she couldn't remember the code for bananas which is the first code they teach you and almost every customer comes through with bananas. So you would think after four hours she would know the code. But nope. So I let it slide because I remember how stressed I was the first few days. Finally the Thursday nite crowd died down and she wanted to know if she could buy food because she was hungry...well the answer would be you have to wait until your break. But this is one more thing she did not understand.
So there we were sitting at our til when a boy came by and started reading magazines. Well this ticked her off....and she told the boy "You can't read that unless you buy it. Are you going to buy it? Do you have money?" The boy just looked at her dumbfounded and startled. And with tears in his eyes he put the magazine back.
I didn't know if I should laugh, cry, tell her that she can't say those things to customers...so I did what I do best...ignore it.
Thankfully, it was time for our break, where she then asked if she could take a magazine up to the break room, read it and put it back. You can guess the answer to that one.
During my break I wanted to avoid her but couldn't because I would have felt guilty about leaving her alone. So I went to the back, talked to my boys in grocery and went upstairs to the room that consists of breaks. Or so its called.
I couldn't wait for her part of the shift to end, because to be honest I don't think she understands what she is doing...at all. And of course they scheduled her for a Saturday...the busiest day of the week. All I have to say is good luck and try not to get fired.
So this was my day at work... but at least I made it there. And I still don't know if I hate or love my job but at least I went and I know for damn sure that I won't be a lifer.

borat movie preview

I want to see this movie...the preview always makes me laugh.
But after you watch this, read the post below about MILFS.

Katie Holmes will never be a MILF

Today, for some unknown reason I was watching an episode of Dawson's Creek. It annoyed me years ago when it came out and it still does today but for some reason I was compelled to watch it. P. S. I lost the remote. So there I was watching Katie Holmes career slowly slide down the toilet when I realised that there is something highly unattractive and awkward about her.
She looks like the girl next door or someone's annoying little sister. Then I found this picture of her trying to look sexy - but it just doesn't happen for her. She comes off looking scary.
You would think that as she got older she would look less like a 12 year old girl but nope. Looks the exact same. Now she's shacked up with Hollywood nut job - Tom Cruise. She also had his baby...even scarier than her trying to look sexy. And yet she still looks like a 12 year old with a little sister and did anybody notice how she looks so similar to Tom Cruise that sometimes I think a) they are the same person b) they are secretly siblings....

Speaking of MILF's here's another one that finally had some sense knocked in to her...you guessed it Brtiney Spears.
Yep that dirtbag on the left, that some refer to as K-Fed, Papa Zao, Mr. Britney Spears has been kicked to the curb.
It's just unfortunate that it took her two years and two kids to realise he was a dirt bag. A greasy one, I might add. For some unknown reason many men consider Britney a MILF but after being with K-Fed, would you still wanna hit that? I think not....
Another MILF that gets on my nerves would be none other than Madge herself. After 20 years she's still the same big skank she was in the late 80's, early 90's. She constantly "re-invents" herself year after year but to me its the same crap just rephrased 38 times or something like that. She has publicly aired where she has been and what she has done and yet she is still considered a MILF. And you know what, I won't lie .... I love 80's Madonna but after a while you just need to give it up and start acting like the soccer mom that you are. Just because you look good for your age does not mean that you should go prancing about the TV screen in leotards...Are you a gymnast? Are you a professional dancer and I don't mean that just because you call yourself one that you are? Has someone classified you(Madonna) as a dancer?


Who do MILF's think they are? really? Hot moms, my ass. But Hot Dads on the other hand....

also blogger = asshat for not letting me put anymore photos in...

Please. Save the Drama for Someone Who Cares. Which is not me.

Friday nite was the first time I had been back to the club since I was uh *escorted* out last month. And this time I went sober, ready to parrtayy in a non drunken way but this being me and my luck being what it is this would not be so. L invited her friends from her old school as well as some that I don't get along with but that was okay, I could play nice for a little while. I know it's hard to believe but I can.
So there we were with her old friends and her new friends and everything was going well but then the drama hit and I can't say that I had nothing to do with it. There is this girl (who brought her semi good looking boyfriend, that was checking me out for the first half of the night and I didn't know that it was her boyfriend) that I absolutely do not get along with but because she is L's friend I was going to play nice and pretend that I like her. So there we were on the dance floor, having a good time, when drama struck the girl I didn't like. And at first I felt bad for her because she was crying and her and her boyfriend were fighting, then I decided "No, I hate her, She's ----- insert some nasty words ----" Then she left and I let a big sigh of relief and said "Thank God" So she left and I thought her boyfriend did too, no my luck would not allow for that.
So there I was ready to shake what my mama gave me, when he returned. But he was not mopey, we were having a good time, dancing to techno and causing psychadellic freakouts ... it was going really well, when he continually became closer and closer to me (I sorta knew this was coming because of the way he had been looking at me all night) and we were dancing together. And I thought "Oh Crap! How do I deal with this?" So I just turned to him with all my finesse and said "I can't do this. I'm sorry" and he just looked at me blankly then uttered the dreaded word "Why?" That's when I knew I had to tell him the truth, that his girlfriend and I hate each other and that we have been waiting for the right time to kick each other's asses. And that whatever was going on between them would probably be solved and if it wasn't I didn't want to be one of the factors for why it wasn't. Truth be told, he was 19, half decent looking, a great dancer and he had a stack of money that would send a golddigger comatose. And I shooed him away. What is wrong with me, you might ask? I'm not sure what is wrong with me, but it's probably a really long list.
So the night went on and I saw rich mystery dancer on my way out and he said nothing and I was okay with that because I had had enough drama for one night. And that excludes the stuff at work as well as the other dramatics that occurred at the club.

Bombed...

Yesterday was D-Day. It was my day to recite the speech I had written about Heidi. I had rewritten it and I loved it. It was fabulous. It was all the things I wanted to say in a more organzied manner. I read that crumpled paper until I memorised the whole thing. I was confident I could do it. I was ready and willing. So when the prof called my name I stood up. I went to the podium. I began my speech. I was doing really well. The prof was enjoying it, then outta nowhere my mind goes blank. I can't remember a damn thing I wrote. Great. People are watching me, I'm stumbling over my words. Think. Think faster. C'mon, you're choking. Crap. I'm slowly sinking. What's a funny Heidi story? Still not coming up with anything. Ok, time to start lying, make some stuff up. Let's finish this. So I rush through the rest. I make something up on the spot and feel like crying. I totally messed this up. I tried to save it but I just couldn't pull it together on time. I gave my toast, slumped back to my seat and waited for the hand on the clock to hit two. I tried to forget what had happened after I wasn't the one who stood up there are cried. I held my own, sort of. I mean at least I finished. Well below the time limit I might add. But hey, speech three is due in two weeks.
At least Halloween was a blast.
I drank Vodka with pirates. [I think my treats may have been quite different from yours.] Took some crazy pictures and went home.
You can see the pictures on Life or Something Like It's blog.
Hope you all enjoyed your nite.

bobby 'boris' pickett & the cryptkickers - monster mash

This is awesome. The opening frightened me a little bit.
OOOOHH SPOOOOOKKY

time to catch up

Yeah my typing is going to blow tonite. But I think I should catch you guys up on what's happening. . .
Today I went to the scariest place of all - the library. I know. And I was quiet and I did't get kicked out. But this is the scariest part - I completed homework. Yep, I finished my creative brief and I rewrote the speech on Heidi. Creepy.
Work has been a total pain in the ass and I bagged off on Sunday. I feel only semi guilty about it. Key word being semi. . .
School is getting busy but I sorta like it because now I have something to do. And I am finally beginning to understand how to use the programs. So it is not a complete drag. Some days I like it, others I don't.
Tomorrow is Hallowe'en and I am beyond pumped. I am so freaking excited. I LOOOOVE HALLOWE'EN. And tomorrow I am going to be a tiger. I don't think I will be able tp go see Rocky Horror Picture Show because I promised to go to a friend's party which I'm just as excited about. And then on Wednesday my morning class was cancelled. Woot!
But this is all I have for now.

HAPPY HALLOWE'EN!!!!!

P.S. If blogger and youtube weren't ass hats there would be many more installments on my countdown to Halloween.

Hocus Pocus - I Put A Spell On You

This is from one of my favorite movies. One of the best Halloween movies out there.

Summer Lovin'

(This top pic is Ruby sleeping on my bed before she was banned from my room.)Finally. I stopped my procrastinating I took my rolls of film and had them developed. So in no particular order they are here. Enjoy!
The aftermath of the Countdown to Billy Idol.
Last Hallowe'en Porky was a bat. Check out the way cool BatHat.
L and I getting ready to PAAARRRTTAAAYY! We spent the majority of our summer looking like this. Which is rather unfortunate.
LOOK at this....A CITY GIRL in the DIRT! I know, very hard to believe. Summer '06

The next pics are smushed together because Blogger is an ASS HAT. Not to be confused with BATHAT. But that adorable Pug down there belongs to Heidi. I wish he were mine but...

The last pic is from Halloween '05. My punk rock friends and I loooove Halloween.
There will be more pics later when Blogger isn't being an asshat.

Ask and You Shall Receive

Here it is... the speech that I think needs some improvement. You know the way it goes. You think you have this really great project completed then outta nowhere you hear someone else's and you think "This is great. Mine is crap" So now I have one more week to make it better than everyone else's and make it so good that I blow everyone else away.

Commemorative Speech
They say first impressions can last a lifetime but if you judged this person based on a first impression than you have no idea what you would be missing. I can tell you exactly what you would see on your first impression, a tiny woman rushing through the door because she is never on time, her pink curly hair blowing in the wind and a vintage tee shirt older than me clung to her body.
This is my Godmother. My best friend. My confidante. Her name is Heidi. She grew up on a farm and has known my family for many years. She has been there for all my ups and all my downs. She has never judged me or criticized me for any of the choices I have ever made. She has celebrated with me and she has cried with me. Her craziness and positive attitude is what has kept me as sane as I can be. (I blame my insanity on her – she dropped me on my head when I was little.) It is with her I can be myself completely. It is with her that I can be absolutely free. All the summers I spent at her house, picking berries, visiting the Studio and aspiring artists, these are my favorite memories. Riding horses at the farm, getting dirty and loving every second of it. Every time I see a lit candle I think of the summer we spent making our own candles which was more of a mess than it was successful.
Heidi gave me my first sketch book when I was eleven. She bought it for me after my grandfather died. It was through this book that she taught me that I could talk to her whenever I wanted all I had to do was pick up the pencil and write or draw. Just keep going until I felt that everything that needed to be said came pouring out. And now seven years later I have more than one sketch book.
Her inspiration and creativity has guided me and helped shape my artistic side. It was her creativity that finally after many attempts enabled her to have her first poem published in a book that will be released some time next year. I am so happy to be a part of her happiness as she celebrates her first piece of literature. I always knew that her writing would be published it was just a matter of time. I remember one of the first books she ever started writing, it was during one of the summers I spent at her house. It was about teenagers doing all the things we are told by our parents not to do. Another book that I remember reading was one about a young girl who everyone considered weird. Publishers criticized her writing calling it dark and claiming “that this was not what they were looking for” but to me this was all the more appealing. Her writing is so unique and different than anything I have ever read. It’s the type of reading that you can’t put down, it’s the type of book that you stay up all night to finish and then read again because it was just that good.
That was the summer we drank some of the Captain and went into the neighbor’s yard. Well let me just say that we went into the neighbor’s yard because they had a huge trampoline and we wanted to try it. Okay, I’m exaggerating this part. We weren’t drunk, but we did have a little rum and we had the neighbor’s permission to use the trampoline.
Summer of 2005 was quite possibly the best summer I ever spent at her house. We had tickets to Billy Idol, and more than a week of summer left where we could do whatever we wanted. We read books, we drank tea in the front window, and we reminisced about days gone by. And when Billy Idol day came we piled into the pit and rocked out like there was no tomorrow. It was the first time in my life where I didn’t care what people thought of me. It was the first concert I ever went to and it is one of the best memories I have. A few months later we saw Hedley. It was another awesome concert. The best part of the night was when Heidi danced on the bar and the bouncers came and told her to get down or get out. Her free spirit was alive that night and encouraged me to fully experience that night.
Her free spirit, creativity and uniqueness are what have brought her to this point. Her first publication, I am so honored and grateful to be a part of this moment. I can’t wait to read the book cover to cover and I look forward to many more publications. Here’s to new beginnings and the future.

Untitledness

I have this assignment due tomorrow and as usual I have left it until last minute. Well if I didn't leave it until last minute it wouldn't be me. It wouldn't follow my pattern of continually screwing myself over. I do it all the time and do I ever learn? Nope. Never. Can't. Won't. Ever. Learn.
So the assignment is to write a speech about someone important in my life. So I chose Heidi. She was the first person that came to mind. And I know exactly what I want to say I just can't put it into words that last four to five minutes. I want to share all my stories, all my memories but those can't fit into five minutes which leaves me sitting here thinking "How will I ever finish this?" And then of course my imaginary ADHD kicks in and I am distracted by things like Blogger and MSN.
So I tell myself "Get back to work" and I do for a few minutes but then I lose my focus and go back to playing Solitaire and chatting with friends and listening to music.
I want to get this done I really do but I'm at a loss for words. So here I sit waiting for an email and hoping that some thunderbolt will come down and strike me. This thunderbolt will give me the words to say what I need to and get me to bed soon so I am not exhausted tomorrow when I have to be in class at 8am.

Remains of the Day

Now a little something from TimBurtonland. This is my favoutite scene from Corpse Bride. If there are any Hallowe'en clips that you would like to see let me know and I will try to post them before Hallowe'en.

Super Freak - Rick James

Another installment of my countdown to Hallowe'en. This isn't necessarily halloween frightening but I find Rick James very frightening. . . . especially those close ups of his face.

Stumped

Yes, I am stumped. As in I have no creative juices. I am supposed to be designing a Children's bookmark using four colors plus, but I cannot think of anything. It's just blah. My other two bookmarks are great. Or so I think they are. Okay, they aren't fantastic but they are done. I just need that third bookmark and I will be completely done the project and I don't have to look at them ever again. I thought about taking images from popular movies but that has already been done. One too many times. So here I am working on an assignment from another class. Leaving my bookmark project to sit and wait for me to come up with something absolutely amazing. Something no one else has done, something so brilliant that even I am amazed at my work. Okay so I was thinking about "borrowing" one of the Girl's Playmobil images and putting that on to a book mark. That's it - all that I've got. Stealing someone else's work. Way to go me. Well I'd ask the Girl first but still, this is bad. Never had this happen before.

Any ideas?????????????????????????Any at all ???????????????????????????????

Whiskas Commercial - Boris

This cracks me up. It's hardcore. Hardcore funny.

Today's word is Grad

I figured that since my Mom and Heidi talked about my grad, maybe I should too because after all it was my grad.
For the most part I enjoyed Grad. It was as if all those feelings we had towards each other were gone. All the stupid fights we had, all the silly things that seemed so important only a few months ago were gone. Everyone seemed so ... different, maybe not mature but different. Only after a few months we were all different, we had all gone our seperate ways. People really surprise you, things you would never imagine someone doing or accomplishing they have done it or are in the process of completing something. Someone I know, who I figured would go to a good school and become a CEO of some big company has left town and is currently travelling the country. People who I thought I would be friends with forever aren't around. People I didn't care to talk to in school are suddenly talking to me and acting like we've known each other forever. And part of this is great, that you can put everything aside to talk to those who you didn't in school but the other part of you is thinking "What is going on here?" Que Twilight Zone theme.
Everything went really well and it was awesome catching up with those that you hadn't seen in a while.
As the ceremony was slowly approaching my friends and I were nervous to walk out in front of hundreds of people, we were all fearing the worst that one of us would fall or trip or find some new way to humiliate ourselves. There was so much excitement but in the end we were sad because we knew that we wouldn't see each other for a while. And a few hours is not enough time to reconnect with people whom we spent the last four years with. . .and no email address or phone number is going to give you the satisfaction that you want.
Standing there in my gown and ridiculous cap, I realised that as much as I hated high school there was a part of me that liked it, a part of me that had some really good times, some really good laughs and some really embarassing moments. But what high school experience wouldn't be complete without making a fool out of yourself at least once in front of your friends or in my case in front of some really hot guys in the snow. There are a few memories that I hope to never forget.
So as we made our way onto stage we all had butterflies and felt like we were going to throw up or fall. Thankfully we all survived and no one fell, threw up or anything along those lines. And before we knew it, it was over. We scribbled some signatures into yearbooks trying to think of something new and original to say to someone who you may never see again but how do you say goodbye in a few short sentences. You can't, so you don't. You say something funny or about the years past and try not to feel bad about it. You pretend that this isn't the end, that you will see these people, that you will talk to them, write them whatever but you know damn well that you won't and that's what is truly sad about people. So I did the best I could, said something funny, wrote down my email and said "Talk to you later"
Before I knew it, it was over and time to go back to my other non - highschool life. The college me. The one that I had forgotten about for a few hours. The one that I had liked forgetting about for a while. I really don't know how I had forgotten though because I looked like a college girl. -Okay I had to just throw that in because I was so impressed with my outifit.
I'm really happy that I went to Grad because I think that it gave me the finality I needed to move on, to be okay with everything in my life that was changing.
And after all, I realise that Grad was not the end, but simply a chance for a new beginning. A beginning that I am looking forward to and when I'm done in two years, I know that it is not the end but another beginning.