![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
You're a Tiger!
You've really earned your stripes. People like to sing about your
eyes, which some find to be thrilling. You're rather fond of Detroit, as well as
half the universities and high schools all across America. When people want to calm
you down a bit, they use the word "easy". Overall, you're grrrrreat!
Take the Animal Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
September 26th, 2007
exhaustedSeptember 3rd, 2007
But just so you know, I have no idea what that grillish looking thing is behind my journal heading. Anyone know?
Good day.
Good day.
September 1st, 2007
You're alone in the house. The doorbell rings. You go to the door, confused as to who it could be - you're not expecting anyone, it's a little late for canvassers...
You look through the slit of a window, moving up, down, side to side until you concede you can't make much out with the limited space and light available. You open the door.
You look out into the night. No one's around. You start mumbling to yourself about stupid kids, playing nicky-nine doors at this time of night. You back up to close the door when you catch sight of a small package left at the top of the stairs. It's wrapped nicely, in your favourite colour as a matter of fact. There's a tag on it. You look at the tag, secretly hoping it's for you while telling yourself there's no way it could be for you.
The tag has your name on it. You're feeling a mixture of excitement, confusion, apprehension, and curiosity. There's no name of the giver anywhere on the package. You give one last look around the street and then turn to go inside with your present.
Once inside you sit down at the base of the stairs and consider your present. Who would have left it? Why did they send it? Is it a joke? Is it more dangerous than a joke? How could they have found out your name and if they knew it already, why not stick around and chat? It reminds you of a game you used to play in high school - Pixie. You would run around doing just this and it was the recipient's duty to try to catch you when you left your present. It never really made that much sense to you; you thought it would be better if you left your pixie alone. Then you'd get more presents.
You've been turning the present over while thinking about this. You decide you may as well open it as an unopened present will get the better of you eventually and even if you're playing into the hands of a prankster, or worse, there doesn't seem to be any sign of dangerous materials. May as well.
You pull at the ribbon. It comes loose easily. You search for the tape and you find there isn't any. Somehow, someone's managed to wrap this gift without the use of adhesive. Interesting...and odd. You scratch at the paper and managed to make a hole. You start to pull at it and before you know it the paper is off. Now you're just looking at a wooden box. It's carved nicely, in a style you vaguely recognize, as though you studied it in school, a long time ago. While you're turning it over, looking for a way to open it, you find a gold circle that you press and the top pops open. It makes you jump a little.
Looking inside you can hardly believe your eyes. This has to be a trick. Someone is trying to...You close the lid quickly. You force yourself to breathe slowly. You shake your head and you draw yourself up. You pause and then you open the box again. It's still there. Either you're still hallucinating or it's really there. But it can't be.
Inside the box is your street, lit up in miniature. If it was only a model, it would be slightly interesting at best. But there are cars driving up and down, people outside talking by their cars, wind blowing. It's like being up in the air over your neighbourhood. But in a box. You can feel the air and hear the noises coming from within the box. You decide to indulge your curiosity. You go to your front window and look out. You wait a bit. Then a car passes by slowly. You quickly glance to the box where the same car is passing slowly by your mini-house. Your legs feel a little funny so you sit down rather abruptly on the ottoman.
Outside, the slow car has come to a stop, in front of your house. You feel unnerved though you're not immediately sure why. Since the light is off in your front room you move to the floor and peer out through the bottom of the window, all the time glancing back and forth from the box to the street. Someone is looking out the car windows towards your house. You can't make out if it's a man or woman and you don't want to move to get a better look. You think to yourself, "Someone's looking for this" and then immediately think of other reasons for the car being stopped - someone's just looking for an address, he or she's lost, maybe looking at the landscaping you just finished last Wednesday. But somewhere inside of you, you know you're just making excuses and that person is looking for that box. You don't know why you know it, probably because it's unbelievable as far as objects go.
You're trying to decide what you're going to do. Is the person going to come up to your door? Is this the owner? The giver? No, no it's not. Once again, you just know this. This box has to stay hidden from this person. You started feeling nervous when the car stopped. Now you're feeling really nervous and scared. How the hell are you going to hide this remarkable thing from this person who knows that it's in your house within minutes of it being dropped off to you? Clearly he or she knows what she's looking for and where it is. Do you really think that you're going to be able to answer the door and say "No, sorry, no one's been to my door but you tonight. Sorry. Take it easy." and have the matter be over as easily as that? What the hell do you even have? Is the government involved? Are other people involved? Why are you involved? Oh god, you don't want to be involved. As odd as this night has been, you could do without it.
At the same time, you're concerned. This object was left for you. Even if not for you personally, it was clearly not left in the possession of the driver outside. Does this mean you're going to have to keep it from him or her, or them? This would all be so much easier if someone had bothered to leave a note explaining. Okay. If they didn't leave a note, that must mean that they didn't have time or it wasn't safe to do so. What are you going to do?
The slam of a car door outside shakes you out of your thoughts. You look outside. Someone is coming towards your house. Someone average-sized and covered up. You move without even thinking about it. You run up to your room. You grab a bag and stuff anything useful that you couldn't do without for a couple days into it, wrapping a bunch of scarves around the box and packing it as carefully as possible given your shaking hands and the darkness of the room. You hear someone reach your door and ring the doorbell. You freeze. You can hear your heart beating. You wonder if you're going to black out. Then the doorbell rings again. You start running. You run to the master bedroom. You look out at the backyard to see if there's anyone or anything there. No. You run to the bathroom and close and lock the door. You climb up on the toilet and open the window. You quietly remove the screen. It's a tiny window up onto your roof. You stuff out your bag which slides a little down the roof. Then you get up and haul yourself up and over the window frame. You used to come out here with your best friend and sing during the summer while looking out over the trees. You gasp-chuckle: it's a thought at odds with your present situation.
You get out onto the roof and lay flat, listening. You move up to look over the other side of the roof, out towards the front of your house. The car is still there. You hear a faint chime - the doorbell for the third time. You need to get out of there. He or she's only going to ring so many times. You shuffle towards the edge of the roof. You scrape your fingers and your calves up on the way down. It's quite a jump. You throw your bag down. It's got a bunch of clothes in it. It should be softer to land on than the ground anyway. You jump. The sick feeling in your stomach is overwhelming, then the pain shoots through ankles up your legs. You fall to the ground, your eyes squeezed shut. You pat the box quickly through the bag to make sure it's okay. It is. The kitchen window is open above your head and the sound of the front door slamming open against the wall seems to stop your heart. Your eyes fly open. Inside. Inside your house. You look to the gate. If he or she comes into the kitchen, you'll be visible going out through the fence but you have to get out of there. You keep low to the ground and close to the outside wall and run over to the part of the fence that has fallen down on the side. There are trees between you and the windows that will cover you and vehicles in the parking space that will hide you once you get out into the alley. You're sweating, breathing quickly, and shaking.
You know you have to run but you're terrified you'll be seen. A light flicks on inside your house and you bolt. You fly over the fence and crouch on the ground next to the pickup truck. You swivel around and drop to your hands to look at the house. The light has gone off. You start running, not even sure of where you're running to, just needing to run, run as fast as you possibly can. You never thought you could ever run this fast. Or this fast for this long. You run and run and run.
You look through the slit of a window, moving up, down, side to side until you concede you can't make much out with the limited space and light available. You open the door.
You look out into the night. No one's around. You start mumbling to yourself about stupid kids, playing nicky-nine doors at this time of night. You back up to close the door when you catch sight of a small package left at the top of the stairs. It's wrapped nicely, in your favourite colour as a matter of fact. There's a tag on it. You look at the tag, secretly hoping it's for you while telling yourself there's no way it could be for you.
The tag has your name on it. You're feeling a mixture of excitement, confusion, apprehension, and curiosity. There's no name of the giver anywhere on the package. You give one last look around the street and then turn to go inside with your present.
Once inside you sit down at the base of the stairs and consider your present. Who would have left it? Why did they send it? Is it a joke? Is it more dangerous than a joke? How could they have found out your name and if they knew it already, why not stick around and chat? It reminds you of a game you used to play in high school - Pixie. You would run around doing just this and it was the recipient's duty to try to catch you when you left your present. It never really made that much sense to you; you thought it would be better if you left your pixie alone. Then you'd get more presents.
You've been turning the present over while thinking about this. You decide you may as well open it as an unopened present will get the better of you eventually and even if you're playing into the hands of a prankster, or worse, there doesn't seem to be any sign of dangerous materials. May as well.
You pull at the ribbon. It comes loose easily. You search for the tape and you find there isn't any. Somehow, someone's managed to wrap this gift without the use of adhesive. Interesting...and odd. You scratch at the paper and managed to make a hole. You start to pull at it and before you know it the paper is off. Now you're just looking at a wooden box. It's carved nicely, in a style you vaguely recognize, as though you studied it in school, a long time ago. While you're turning it over, looking for a way to open it, you find a gold circle that you press and the top pops open. It makes you jump a little.
Looking inside you can hardly believe your eyes. This has to be a trick. Someone is trying to...You close the lid quickly. You force yourself to breathe slowly. You shake your head and you draw yourself up. You pause and then you open the box again. It's still there. Either you're still hallucinating or it's really there. But it can't be.
Inside the box is your street, lit up in miniature. If it was only a model, it would be slightly interesting at best. But there are cars driving up and down, people outside talking by their cars, wind blowing. It's like being up in the air over your neighbourhood. But in a box. You can feel the air and hear the noises coming from within the box. You decide to indulge your curiosity. You go to your front window and look out. You wait a bit. Then a car passes by slowly. You quickly glance to the box where the same car is passing slowly by your mini-house. Your legs feel a little funny so you sit down rather abruptly on the ottoman.
Outside, the slow car has come to a stop, in front of your house. You feel unnerved though you're not immediately sure why. Since the light is off in your front room you move to the floor and peer out through the bottom of the window, all the time glancing back and forth from the box to the street. Someone is looking out the car windows towards your house. You can't make out if it's a man or woman and you don't want to move to get a better look. You think to yourself, "Someone's looking for this" and then immediately think of other reasons for the car being stopped - someone's just looking for an address, he or she's lost, maybe looking at the landscaping you just finished last Wednesday. But somewhere inside of you, you know you're just making excuses and that person is looking for that box. You don't know why you know it, probably because it's unbelievable as far as objects go.
You're trying to decide what you're going to do. Is the person going to come up to your door? Is this the owner? The giver? No, no it's not. Once again, you just know this. This box has to stay hidden from this person. You started feeling nervous when the car stopped. Now you're feeling really nervous and scared. How the hell are you going to hide this remarkable thing from this person who knows that it's in your house within minutes of it being dropped off to you? Clearly he or she knows what she's looking for and where it is. Do you really think that you're going to be able to answer the door and say "No, sorry, no one's been to my door but you tonight. Sorry. Take it easy." and have the matter be over as easily as that? What the hell do you even have? Is the government involved? Are other people involved? Why are you involved? Oh god, you don't want to be involved. As odd as this night has been, you could do without it.
At the same time, you're concerned. This object was left for you. Even if not for you personally, it was clearly not left in the possession of the driver outside. Does this mean you're going to have to keep it from him or her, or them? This would all be so much easier if someone had bothered to leave a note explaining. Okay. If they didn't leave a note, that must mean that they didn't have time or it wasn't safe to do so. What are you going to do?
The slam of a car door outside shakes you out of your thoughts. You look outside. Someone is coming towards your house. Someone average-sized and covered up. You move without even thinking about it. You run up to your room. You grab a bag and stuff anything useful that you couldn't do without for a couple days into it, wrapping a bunch of scarves around the box and packing it as carefully as possible given your shaking hands and the darkness of the room. You hear someone reach your door and ring the doorbell. You freeze. You can hear your heart beating. You wonder if you're going to black out. Then the doorbell rings again. You start running. You run to the master bedroom. You look out at the backyard to see if there's anyone or anything there. No. You run to the bathroom and close and lock the door. You climb up on the toilet and open the window. You quietly remove the screen. It's a tiny window up onto your roof. You stuff out your bag which slides a little down the roof. Then you get up and haul yourself up and over the window frame. You used to come out here with your best friend and sing during the summer while looking out over the trees. You gasp-chuckle: it's a thought at odds with your present situation.
You get out onto the roof and lay flat, listening. You move up to look over the other side of the roof, out towards the front of your house. The car is still there. You hear a faint chime - the doorbell for the third time. You need to get out of there. He or she's only going to ring so many times. You shuffle towards the edge of the roof. You scrape your fingers and your calves up on the way down. It's quite a jump. You throw your bag down. It's got a bunch of clothes in it. It should be softer to land on than the ground anyway. You jump. The sick feeling in your stomach is overwhelming, then the pain shoots through ankles up your legs. You fall to the ground, your eyes squeezed shut. You pat the box quickly through the bag to make sure it's okay. It is. The kitchen window is open above your head and the sound of the front door slamming open against the wall seems to stop your heart. Your eyes fly open. Inside. Inside your house. You look to the gate. If he or she comes into the kitchen, you'll be visible going out through the fence but you have to get out of there. You keep low to the ground and close to the outside wall and run over to the part of the fence that has fallen down on the side. There are trees between you and the windows that will cover you and vehicles in the parking space that will hide you once you get out into the alley. You're sweating, breathing quickly, and shaking.
You know you have to run but you're terrified you'll be seen. A light flicks on inside your house and you bolt. You fly over the fence and crouch on the ground next to the pickup truck. You swivel around and drop to your hands to look at the house. The light has gone off. You start running, not even sure of where you're running to, just needing to run, run as fast as you possibly can. You never thought you could ever run this fast. Or this fast for this long. You run and run and run.
creativeAugust 22nd, 2007
August 15th, 2007
Guess what? I'm NOT dead, I'm just lazy. And having a torrid affair with Facebook.
But while I am having an affair with Facebook, it doesn't mean that we can't be civil. I will still talk to Live Journal from time to time, maintain the friendship we had, back in the day...for the sake of the children.
Things that are new:
1. I hate my job (this is not new). But I am quitting and hopefully will have a nice fluffy job soon. I can't take the emotional drainage any longer.
2. I miss my friends who live everywhere but here. This is also not new, but the feeling of missing has intensified, so that part is new.
3. I am disappointed by Stardust (the movie) but definitely not by Mark Strong aka "Septimus". It was a)not as good as the book and the book had some pretty strong visuals that they should have followed, b) unbalanced, that is, the director didn't seem to know which genre he wanted to stay in so he just cycled through them all rapidly, c) kinda sad - the humour was embarrassing at times, d) tainted by two Americans with terrible English accents and one who didn't even bother to put on a bad English accent. De Niro! I'm looking at you!
That is all for now.
But while I am having an affair with Facebook, it doesn't mean that we can't be civil. I will still talk to Live Journal from time to time, maintain the friendship we had, back in the day...for the sake of the children.
Things that are new:
1. I hate my job (this is not new). But I am quitting and hopefully will have a nice fluffy job soon. I can't take the emotional drainage any longer.
2. I miss my friends who live everywhere but here. This is also not new, but the feeling of missing has intensified, so that part is new.
3. I am disappointed by Stardust (the movie) but definitely not by Mark Strong aka "Septimus". It was a)not as good as the book and the book had some pretty strong visuals that they should have followed, b) unbalanced, that is, the director didn't seem to know which genre he wanted to stay in so he just cycled through them all rapidly, c) kinda sad - the humour was embarrassing at times, d) tainted by two Americans with terrible English accents and one who didn't even bother to put on a bad English accent. De Niro! I'm looking at you!
That is all for now.
sillyJuly 19th, 2007
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
June 10th, 2007
So it's been a while, eh? About another month.
I am delighted it's Spring-Summer and the snow bothers us not. That said, I do need to know how long the cottonwood season is. I don't recall being blind and sneezy ALL last Summer but I cannot remember when it was that it ended.
Lalala, I have nothing to contribute here. I was merely feeling guilty for neglecting my online rant space for so long. Enough.
Good Day.
I am delighted it's Spring-Summer and the snow bothers us not. That said, I do need to know how long the cottonwood season is. I don't recall being blind and sneezy ALL last Summer but I cannot remember when it was that it ended.
Lalala, I have nothing to contribute here. I was merely feeling guilty for neglecting my online rant space for so long. Enough.
Good Day.
lonelyMay 9th, 2007
So I haven't posted anything in about a month. The only thing I have to say today, and probably for the rest of the week, is: I hate colds.
Over
Over
blahApril 17th, 2007
I was reading Macleans today (online) and there's an article about how former PM Jean Chretien was confused and pissed by the present government's lack of interest in celebrating the 25th anniversary of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. In this was a bit that I shall now quote "Harper has often voiced concerns that the Charter has been used to undermine Parliament's authority to make laws."
Something about this statement bugs me. Isn't that kinda the bloody point of the Charter? To not make it too easy for a government to get out of control by protecting our freedoms? Perhaps I just don't know enough 'bout this politics stuff but it seems a little sketchy at least. Harper also encouraged judges to "apply the law, not make the law". Sketchy, yes, sketchy.
But enough of this on the Charter's anniversary. Happy Anniversary Charter! 25 years kicks ass! Cherish it because soon enough you'll be 26 and then it's all downhill from there. But maybe not for historical documents. Damn. Wish I was an historical document.
Something about this statement bugs me. Isn't that kinda the bloody point of the Charter? To not make it too easy for a government to get out of control by protecting our freedoms? Perhaps I just don't know enough 'bout this politics stuff but it seems a little sketchy at least. Harper also encouraged judges to "apply the law, not make the law". Sketchy, yes, sketchy.
But enough of this on the Charter's anniversary. Happy Anniversary Charter! 25 years kicks ass! Cherish it because soon enough you'll be 26 and then it's all downhill from there. But maybe not for historical documents. Damn. Wish I was an historical document.
hungryApril 14th, 2007
I know you all have done it at some point, I know it. I am not the only one who checks out the significant others of people I have previously dated and/or been interested in and I also know I am not the only one who is relieved when I find I can be considered nearly as pretty as the person in question. Sigh of shallow relief, shortly followed by the certainty that I am going to Hell.
But the world balances out because I'm a more horrible person than said significant other.
In other news, I had forgotton how danceable Michael Jackson's music is what with all the crazy-falsetto-voice-no-noseness-combine
But good sense won out and I bought (and in no way settled for) Elton John's Number Ones and Other Favourites, because I don't know that I like Elton John well enough to buy an actual album of his but I undeniably like him despite any wishes on my part to the contrary. I have to sing along when his music is playing. I find humour in him calling random paparazzi "disgusting pigs" in, where was it Singapore? And then only apologizing because he knew he sort of had to but you could tell he didn't really want to, and also because he is so arrogant as to say people will never get tired of his music, but that's maybe not arrogant because he's been rather proven right...wow, Elton John apparently takes my conversation to places I hadn't imagined it would go.
I think that's all for today. Carry on.
But the world balances out because I'm a more horrible person than said significant other.
In other news, I had forgotton how danceable Michael Jackson's music is what with all the crazy-falsetto-voice-no-noseness-combine
But good sense won out and I bought (and in no way settled for) Elton John's Number Ones and Other Favourites, because I don't know that I like Elton John well enough to buy an actual album of his but I undeniably like him despite any wishes on my part to the contrary. I have to sing along when his music is playing. I find humour in him calling random paparazzi "disgusting pigs" in, where was it Singapore? And then only apologizing because he knew he sort of had to but you could tell he didn't really want to, and also because he is so arrogant as to say people will never get tired of his music, but that's maybe not arrogant because he's been rather proven right...wow, Elton John apparently takes my conversation to places I hadn't imagined it would go.
I think that's all for today. Carry on.
April 7th, 2007
Is the name of the movie I saw this weekend. Pretty damn good I must say. I don't even like Bond movies but I was moved, nay, COMPELLED to purchase this one and let its delicious action sequences wash over me like a semi-violent skin cleanser or perhaps a chemical exfoliator. I do enjoy Mr. Daniel Craig as Bond; he seems much less smarmy than the last few (though Pierce you are in my heart forever - not due to your version of Bond but to your smart, well-cut portrayal of Thomas Crown and who could forget how you saved the town of Dante's Peak? Linda Hamilton and I are forever grateful...) and I appreciate that whether it was intended or no. Eva Green aka Vesper Lynd: sometimes I wonder about you, girl. What self-respecting girl would load up her eyes with more makeup than she (clearly) knows what to do with when she looks so jealousy-inspiringly beautiful with no make up at all (other than the general pat down of the face for movie's sake)? The answer is either a) you, or b) you have no self-respect. Either way lose the shadow/liner and grab the self-respect. Otherwise I have no problem with you and I wish I could rock a satin dress the way you can. Bitch. I mean that with all my ass.
Otherwise, I found that while I enjoyed the action sequences, and was incredibly impressed by the acrobatic nature of them, they did hit a point where I said to myself (girl as I am): "Okay, I get it. He's running. You're giving chase. I'm not actually gaining any plot information here so speed it up guys or I will for you." This I call "the point of no point" and one should avoid it if at all possible when making a movie. And, as I am a hugely famous and award-winning filmmaker, it would be smart for you to take my advice. Seriously though, just interject a little info: do a cut to a computer screen, have them yelling things at each other and one of them (oops) slips up and says something he shouldn't have, cut to M berating MI6 desk jockeys, or even something better than any or all of these suggestions. Whatever. Just give me a reason not to fast-forward to the next bit of dialogue. Thank you.
Lastly, there was a beautiful, 1960's-but-better-esque grainy quality to the end of the film when we finally hear what we want to hear, while James is dressed how we want to see him dressed, doing what we want to see him do, that nearly made me shriek with delight. I feel the remains of it even now. Eeek. Satisfying.
Otherwise, I found that while I enjoyed the action sequences, and was incredibly impressed by the acrobatic nature of them, they did hit a point where I said to myself (girl as I am): "Okay, I get it. He's running. You're giving chase. I'm not actually gaining any plot information here so speed it up guys or I will for you." This I call "the point of no point" and one should avoid it if at all possible when making a movie. And, as I am a hugely famous and award-winning filmmaker, it would be smart for you to take my advice. Seriously though, just interject a little info: do a cut to a computer screen, have them yelling things at each other and one of them (oops) slips up and says something he shouldn't have, cut to M berating MI6 desk jockeys, or even something better than any or all of these suggestions. Whatever. Just give me a reason not to fast-forward to the next bit of dialogue. Thank you.
Lastly, there was a beautiful, 1960's-but-better-esque grainy quality to the end of the film when we finally hear what we want to hear, while James is dressed how we want to see him dressed, doing what we want to see him do, that nearly made me shriek with delight. I feel the remains of it even now. Eeek. Satisfying.
cheerfulApril 2nd, 2007
Anyone want to move to Riyadh with me? I'm all exhausted of this snow crap. Enough, I say. Weather Network says Riyadh is enjoying 23 to 35 degree (Celcius of course) weather all this week. Clear too. Lethbridge is not enjoying -8 to +6 degree weather nearly all this week. I really don't think I can handle anymore of this. And I don't just mean this year. I mean ever - EVER again. So, I am moving to Riyadh. I won't have a lot of rights but that's okay because who wants to be allowed to do things in 35 degree weather, am I right? It's truly the perfect plan.
On a related note, do you think the weather can actually drive someone insane and/or to insane actions? I literally thought I was going to lose my mind yesterday, walking from my home to downtown with the ever-increasing snowflakes smacking me in the face and resting on my lashes and cheeks for far too long. Near the end of my journey I was swirling around, slashing at the air, screaming "STOP TOUCHING MY FACE YOU FLUFFY BASTARDS! STOP! STOP!!!" True story? You be the judge.
Sure there are some drawbacks to this plan: conversion to a faith I don't believe in just to make things easier, learning an entirely unfamiliar language, needing a man to be in public with or being stoned to death...minor details really. The heat and complete lack of snow is what is important. Wait, I just read something: "Saudi Arabia is one of the hottest and driest places in the world. Temperatures in the summer can reach a sizzling 50 degrees Celsius, yet in the winter it can rain, hail and even snow .. and then there's the sandstorms. Phew .. what a place."
The plan needs revision. I'll get back to you when it's done.
On a related note, do you think the weather can actually drive someone insane and/or to insane actions? I literally thought I was going to lose my mind yesterday, walking from my home to downtown with the ever-increasing snowflakes smacking me in the face and resting on my lashes and cheeks for far too long. Near the end of my journey I was swirling around, slashing at the air, screaming "STOP TOUCHING MY FACE YOU FLUFFY BASTARDS! STOP! STOP!!!" True story? You be the judge.
Sure there are some drawbacks to this plan: conversion to a faith I don't believe in just to make things easier, learning an entirely unfamiliar language, needing a man to be in public with or being stoned to death...minor details really. The heat and complete lack of snow is what is important. Wait, I just read something: "Saudi Arabia is one of the hottest and driest places in the world. Temperatures in the summer can reach a sizzling 50 degrees Celsius, yet in the winter it can rain, hail and even snow .. and then there's the sandstorms. Phew .. what a place."
The plan needs revision. I'll get back to you when it's done.
March 22nd, 2007
Background:
It all started when about two million Colbert fans inundated an online contest to name the mascot of the Saginaw Spirit, a Michigan OHL team. Steagle Colbeagle the Eagle was born as a tribute to the comedian. Colbert soon threw his support behind the squad and began trash-talking its OHL rivals, especially the Oshawa Generals.
After a public volley of taunts and counter-taunts, Oshawa Mayor John Gray issued a challenge to Colbert on the eve of a recent showdown between the two teams: if the Generals won, Colbert would have had to wear a Generals jersey for an entire show. If the Spirit won, Gray had to declare Colbert's birthday "Stephen Colbert Day" in Oshawa.
Colbert accepted the challenge but had a more humiliating suggestion: he wanted "Stephen Colbert Day" to be declared not on his own birthday, but on Gray's - March 20. And so it was.
"How old are you going to be?" Colbert asked Gray in a recent interview on his show. "Old enough to know better than to take on Stephen Colbert?"
"Hopefully, in the future, yes," Gray, who turned 48 on Tuesday, admitted sheepishly.
Now from msn.ca:
Don Cherry was the guest speaker at Stephen Colbert Day in Oshawa and had this to say:
"I didn't know if he was left wing, but somebody told me this afternoon he's a left-wing pinko, and you'd expect a left-wing pinko not to show up and face the music after starting something." As if that wasn't insulting enough, Don spit out, "He wears a visor too, I think." We don't know what that means, but it sounds pretty humiliating.
Stephen Colbert had this to add in a taped message for Oshawa:
"Bold, innovative, vibrant: none of these words have been applied to the city of Oshawa," he said. "But how about these words: beaver pelt."
Hmmm, Stephen Colbert vs. Don Cherry. I cannot wait to see how this plays out.
Lefty-Pinko against the Plaid Madness! Awesome. I'm with Colbert. He's funny AND smart. 'Course, on Cherry's side - there's a lot to be said for belligerence.
It all started when about two million Colbert fans inundated an online contest to name the mascot of the Saginaw Spirit, a Michigan OHL team. Steagle Colbeagle the Eagle was born as a tribute to the comedian. Colbert soon threw his support behind the squad and began trash-talking its OHL rivals, especially the Oshawa Generals.
After a public volley of taunts and counter-taunts, Oshawa Mayor John Gray issued a challenge to Colbert on the eve of a recent showdown between the two teams: if the Generals won, Colbert would have had to wear a Generals jersey for an entire show. If the Spirit won, Gray had to declare Colbert's birthday "Stephen Colbert Day" in Oshawa.
Colbert accepted the challenge but had a more humiliating suggestion: he wanted "Stephen Colbert Day" to be declared not on his own birthday, but on Gray's - March 20. And so it was.
"How old are you going to be?" Colbert asked Gray in a recent interview on his show. "Old enough to know better than to take on Stephen Colbert?"
"Hopefully, in the future, yes," Gray, who turned 48 on Tuesday, admitted sheepishly.
Now from msn.ca:
Don Cherry was the guest speaker at Stephen Colbert Day in Oshawa and had this to say:
"I didn't know if he was left wing, but somebody told me this afternoon he's a left-wing pinko, and you'd expect a left-wing pinko not to show up and face the music after starting something." As if that wasn't insulting enough, Don spit out, "He wears a visor too, I think." We don't know what that means, but it sounds pretty humiliating.
Stephen Colbert had this to add in a taped message for Oshawa:
"Bold, innovative, vibrant: none of these words have been applied to the city of Oshawa," he said. "But how about these words: beaver pelt."
Hmmm, Stephen Colbert vs. Don Cherry. I cannot wait to see how this plays out.
Lefty-Pinko against the Plaid Madness! Awesome. I'm with Colbert. He's funny AND smart. 'Course, on Cherry's side - there's a lot to be said for belligerence.
March 21st, 2007
1. My birthday was yesterday. It was good. Got some well-wishes from some very unexpected well-wishers. In a weird way it kinda shows you who your friends are.
2. I hate it when people give others the silent treatment. How do you expect anything to get better if you don't discuss it? Especially if the other party involved hasn't done anything to deserve it. Perhaps being a jerk works for some people.
3. Still loving the sacsac juice.
4. I need to explain something and put it out there for anyone and everyone that comes across it. Some of you may already be aware of this. That's fine. March 20th is generally the day of the Vernal Equinox, thus making it the first day there is official Spring. However. This happened around 5-6 p.m. yesterday (depending where you are in my neck of the woods) so the whole day wasn't a day of Spring. It was Winter/Spring. So, the first day (as in complete 24 hours) of Spring is March 21st but not when Spring actually comes into being. Thank you.
5. Why does Howie Mandel have a job?
6. There are bluejays in my backyard. Actually a family of them. Who knew that Bluejays lived in Alberta? Not me. I was very surprised. In related questions - why don't people like Magpies? They are gorgeous. And they're beautifully noisy. I love the Pies.
7. Luna bars are so helpful and delicious when you don't have time or inclination for lunch at work. They are weirdly marketed towards women but created by CLIF so I'm pretty sure anyone can eat them. I checked the label and estrogen was not one of the ingredients. Oops, wait, emotional instability powder is...sorry guys.
8. It's still weirdly cold and the wind is coming sharply from the north but there is currently no snow on the ground (though I am waiting for the snow sucker-punch that happens every year) and the sun is actually shining so it's Spring enough for me.
9. I think the reason I'm bad with numbers is because they have relationships for me. And not of the usual kind. For example: 4 + 5 = 9. In this the 4 and the 5 are ganging up against the 9 for no real reason. Just because the 9 is different. 7 x 7 = 49. In this the 7s are opening a restaurant and the 49 is actually a group of investors (4 and 9). This may seem like I'm insane but really...I just like English and I'm female.
10. Does anyone like Snow White as a Disney princess? If you do, or have thoughts on this, please let me know so I know someone does.
2. I hate it when people give others the silent treatment. How do you expect anything to get better if you don't discuss it? Especially if the other party involved hasn't done anything to deserve it. Perhaps being a jerk works for some people.
3. Still loving the sacsac juice.
4. I need to explain something and put it out there for anyone and everyone that comes across it. Some of you may already be aware of this. That's fine. March 20th is generally the day of the Vernal Equinox, thus making it the first day there is official Spring. However. This happened around 5-6 p.m. yesterday (depending where you are in my neck of the woods) so the whole day wasn't a day of Spring. It was Winter/Spring. So, the first day (as in complete 24 hours) of Spring is March 21st but not when Spring actually comes into being. Thank you.
5. Why does Howie Mandel have a job?
6. There are bluejays in my backyard. Actually a family of them. Who knew that Bluejays lived in Alberta? Not me. I was very surprised. In related questions - why don't people like Magpies? They are gorgeous. And they're beautifully noisy. I love the Pies.
7. Luna bars are so helpful and delicious when you don't have time or inclination for lunch at work. They are weirdly marketed towards women but created by CLIF so I'm pretty sure anyone can eat them. I checked the label and estrogen was not one of the ingredients. Oops, wait, emotional instability powder is...sorry guys.
8. It's still weirdly cold and the wind is coming sharply from the north but there is currently no snow on the ground (though I am waiting for the snow sucker-punch that happens every year) and the sun is actually shining so it's Spring enough for me.
9. I think the reason I'm bad with numbers is because they have relationships for me. And not of the usual kind. For example: 4 + 5 = 9. In this the 4 and the 5 are ganging up against the 9 for no real reason. Just because the 9 is different. 7 x 7 = 49. In this the 7s are opening a restaurant and the 49 is actually a group of investors (4 and 9). This may seem like I'm insane but really...I just like English and I'm female.
10. Does anyone like Snow White as a Disney princess? If you do, or have thoughts on this, please let me know so I know someone does.
March 18th, 2007
Yesterday I Spring Cleaned and it was delicious. The whole house smells like grapefruit now. Except now I feel trapped. I am a slave to the upkeep of the new clean. Yes, yes, there are indeed worse things. Today I am going out for a pre-birthday brunch which is also delicious. This is a delicious weekend altogether. If a little enslaving.
busyMarch 9th, 2007
Oh my god. Fergie is so jealous of me. Just look at these lyrics:
"Fergalicious (so delicious)
But I ain't promiscuous
And if you was suspicious
All that shit is fictitious
I blow kisses (mmmwwahhh)
That puts them boys on rock, rock
And they be lining down the block
just to watch what I got"
Not only is she ripping my "licious" vibe I got goin' here, but she's trying to rhyme with it too. Sometimes it is so trying to be me.
"Fergalicious (so delicious)
But I ain't promiscuous
And if you was suspicious
All that shit is fictitious
I blow kisses (mmmwwahhh)
That puts them boys on rock, rock
And they be lining down the block
just to watch what I got"
Not only is she ripping my "licious" vibe I got goin' here, but she's trying to rhyme with it too. Sometimes it is so trying to be me.
In the spirit of recommending things of beauteous natures to others, I have come across a beauteous thing. Actually, my roommate bought it for me since she knew it to be beauteous first.
It is called Six Fortune Mandarin Orange Drink with Sac and Juice. Ingredients: Water, Mandarin Orange Sac, Concentrated Orange Juice, Sugar, Natural Flavour, Citric Acid, and Ascorbic Acid.
Now, for a 240ml can, it's only 50 calories - sweet! And it is! Deliciously sweet in fact, not painful punishment sweet.
My only concern is how often the word "sac" is used in its promotion. Underneath the brand name it says: Contains Sac Sac and Juice 25%.
So really the use of "sac" 4 times on one can is outrageous (8 times if you count the French "contient 25% de jus d'orange sacsac" but perhaps that should be 7. Maybe "sacsac" is one word. Who is to say?).
In conclusion, don't be afraid of Six Fortune Mandarin Orange Drink with 25% sac sac, a product of Korea, unless you are indeed afraid of the sac sac.
It is called Six Fortune Mandarin Orange Drink with Sac and Juice. Ingredients: Water, Mandarin Orange Sac, Concentrated Orange Juice, Sugar, Natural Flavour, Citric Acid, and Ascorbic Acid.
Now, for a 240ml can, it's only 50 calories - sweet! And it is! Deliciously sweet in fact, not painful punishment sweet.
My only concern is how often the word "sac" is used in its promotion. Underneath the brand name it says: Contains Sac Sac and Juice 25%.
So really the use of "sac" 4 times on one can is outrageous (8 times if you count the French "contient 25% de jus d'orange sacsac" but perhaps that should be 7. Maybe "sacsac" is one word. Who is to say?).
In conclusion, don't be afraid of Six Fortune Mandarin Orange Drink with 25% sac sac, a product of Korea, unless you are indeed afraid of the sac sac.
March 6th, 2007
The "iPod game". You know how she goes. Guess the songs from the given first line. Don't cheat (i.e. look them up on Google). Bon Chance! P.S. it helps that I listen to a lot of music with title mentioned in the first line.
1. Blackbird singing in the dead of night... (Blackbird, the Beatles)
2. Blue, blue caravan, winding down to the valley of light...
3. I used to put my faith in worship...
4. Me and my baby on a February holiday...
5. Pain, come no more...
6. Georgia, Georgia, the whole day through...(Georgia,Ray Charles)
7. Hey Jude, don't make it bad...(Hey Jude, the Beatles)
8. I don't feel so well...
9. She's holding a secret that she'll never tell...
10. You know the night-time (night and day), is the right time, (night and day)...
11. It's the quiet night that breaks me...
12. It's so beautiful here, she said...
13. He left the car and a bar of soap...
14. Smile, though your heart is aching...
15. Ma chambre a la forme d'une cage...
16. Well I’ve been lockin' myself up in my house for sometime now...
17. The summer wind, came blowing in, from across the sea...
18. Time after time those fanatical minds, try to rule all the world...
19. Un gros coup de vent de nordet-nous irons jouer sur le bord de l'eau...
20. He's a company man, your right hand...
1. Blackbird singing in the dead of night... (Blackbird, the Beatles)
2. Blue, blue caravan, winding down to the valley of light...
3. I used to put my faith in worship...
4. Me and my baby on a February holiday...
5. Pain, come no more...
6. Georgia, Georgia, the whole day through...(Georgia,Ray Charles)
7. Hey Jude, don't make it bad...(Hey Jude, the Beatles)
8. I don't feel so well...
9. She's holding a secret that she'll never tell...
10. You know the night-time (night and day), is the right time, (night and day)...
11. It's the quiet night that breaks me...
12. It's so beautiful here, she said...
13. He left the car and a bar of soap...
14. Smile, though your heart is aching...
15. Ma chambre a la forme d'une cage...
16. Well I’ve been lockin' myself up in my house for sometime now...
17. The summer wind, came blowing in, from across the sea...
18. Time after time those fanatical minds, try to rule all the world...
19. Un gros coup de vent de nordet-nous irons jouer sur le bord de l'eau...
20. He's a company man, your right hand...
March 2nd, 2007
Do you think snow can actually drive you insane? Not just snow either. Cold weather, ice, having to scrape off vehicles, drive upon the aforementioned snow and ice, etc. I wouldn't have said so before this year but this winter (which truth be told is not the worst I've seen), has nearly broken me. And it's not over yet. Next week, if the snow does not damn well STOP FALLING, if the ice does not STOP BEING SLIPPY, if the van still needs to be BRUSHED OFF EVERY DAMN MORNING WITH THE WINDSHIELD WIPERS WELDED TO THE BOTTOM WITH VARIOUS KINDS OF ICE, well then, someone may just find me rocking in a corner surrounded by storebought tulips and daffodils, wearing a sun hat, shorts and flip-flops, with 19 airline tickets to various insanely hot places scattered at my feet.
That's all.
That's all.
- Home, surrounded by frozen shit
-
annoyed - None, but the sound of my mind unhinging
February 21st, 2007
I've been out at my parents' place for the last couple days and I've had the opportunity to go through some pictures of myself from long ago and some from not so long ago. I have come to the realization that aging from one's 20's to one's 40's or 50's is not nearly so bad as the loss that comes from aging from 5 or 6 years to one's 20's. What the hell happened? Children are beautiful. I was beautiful! And too young to appreciate it. All the great stuff happens when you don't need it. I'm looking at these pictures going "god my hair is shiny and bouncy...and check out the colour! My god, my eyes are like half the size of my head and so clear and (once again) the colour! My skin is smooth and lovely". Etc. Then I go to the pictures of me circa grade 7. Just around the time everything starts to fall apart. Boooooooo. Hormones are the enemy. They ruin everything. Why can we not just get taller? Keep everything else, just get taller. Is this too much to ask? Apparently it is. Hormones age you like the rough life of a 10 pack-a-day, Las Vegas boozehound who's spent too much time in the sun and too little time sleeping and/or eating.
Now I realize that the above is a prime target for "wait 20 years and you'll realize how nice you look now" comments. To that I once again say Boooooo. How ugly and old I'll be in 20 years is only gravy insult to the heavy mashed potatoes of losing my actual youth. So shut up.
Hmm, angry day.
Now I realize that the above is a prime target for "wait 20 years and you'll realize how nice you look now" comments. To that I once again say Boooooo. How ugly and old I'll be in 20 years is only gravy insult to the heavy mashed potatoes of losing my actual youth. So shut up.
Hmm, angry day.