.

...

Hi.

Life = Complete.


That is all.

...

.

You may now continue all your lame non-Spice Girls-related lives. In other news, I need one of those black Spice Girls concert t-shirts. They were all sold out by the time I got there. I need one. Now. Please? Anyone know where to get one. (They're not on their site.)




Feb 4, 2008
Toronto, Canada

To being an us
For once
Instead of a them

it is day.... something of my trip. i don't know. been a while, also haven't had the net for a while. i probably won't have internet the rest of the time. tis good. taken far too many pictures. ate a lot of cheese too. for no discernible reason. the ocean is salty. (i knew this but still...you know.) surprisingly warm as well. there are lots of trees here. i mean A LOT. and dead crabs ... but that's not as important. however, there are not enough old houses with laundry blowing on clotheslines at the edge of cliffs on overcast days (with an old fishing boat bobbing in a makeshift harbour nearby). c'mon nova scotia. i've watched some movies. isn't that on the postcards and stuff? also mosquitoes in new brunswick make me really itchy. but the chickadees are cool! the surf today was like lake huron, except saltier. and with more people with surfboards. (i want to live here.) halifax is pretty at night in the fog. time to sleep for all the surfing tomorrow.
it's been good.

coach mcguirk was on family guy tonight! wtf?! awesome.

When life gives you lemons, you clone those lemons to make super-lemons!

And then you listen to lots of really good music. And maybe play some BioShock and rescue little girls from evil.

*sigh* Music is so much better than real life.

Also, I really love bees. Evidence:


I just want to love bees all day. And surf on the side. The world needs more bees.


...And less of the Toronto International Film Festival. What a useless waste of time and resources. Yes, I'm bitter about it being sold out in 4 hours.

Hrmpf.



Well, that blowed.




edited to add: ( spoilery )

Dear WaT:

You are fucking retarded. Hahaha. Oh my god. You suck but make me laugh with your ridiculousness. Burn, burn, burn.



( Spoilers. Obviously. HA...hahahahaha, I just can't stop laughing! )



(I have a thing for turnips. They are tasty.)

R.I.P. GIR!!! Legal Action! aka Squishy Fishy
February 2006 - August 2007



We had fun didn't we, Hilter Fish? He passed away peacefully in his sleep August 3rd, 2007 after a short time on this earth where he used up about $500 of my hard-earned dollars. But it's a small price to pay for a constant companion (He can't run away!) and to save him from a torturous death at the hands of a drunken Huntington boy at formal. We had some good times, and he overcame some obstacles that others responded to with "Just flush him!". He got over ICK! He got over that tumour. He got through last hot, hot summer. We did it! You did it.

He was not well for the past 3 days but he is now resting comfortably in the big ocean in the sky.

Bon Voyage, Squishy!

k. in regards to my last post which itself was regarding this news, i have only one (other) thing to say. (the "other" meaning "other than 'IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME!'").


mulder and scully better have teh sexz for like 5 minutes in the new movie. AT LEAST.





or else it will be a complete waste of a movie. and a waste of like, 5-6 years of hope. so yeah. bitches better do it. seriously chris carter, dude. for serious. or else i will hate. and loathe. and some other bad things. like cry uncontrollably for days on end, requiring hospitalization for dehydration and then be in the news as the "girl who cried so hard cos mulder and scully didn't do it in the new x-files movie that she ran out of tears." (ooh, freudian slip. i just wrote "teats". teehee. teats are on cows.) but still, how guilty would mr. carter be then? huh? huh? meh.



it'd better rain sleeping bags. that's all i'm sayin'.

okay. i suck at lj-ing lately. (i am also peeved that lj has become a verb. much like "phone" has become a verb ...and like "covers" has become a noun. i am easily annoyed by modern english (the linguistic-sociological phenomenon, not the band.) i keep putting things off. and then i forget. and then i don't care anymore.

things i once planned on doing: a review of that play i saw in ny a few weeks ago (jesus christ, it feels like a YEAR ago already) and a somewhat different slant on what i see to be the hypocrisy of such a play (based on the casting). it's not a bad review. i just... it's much better explained at length. but then i tried and ended up rambling about the O.C. for a good two paragraphs so i gave up and decided that was not going to go any where good. (who the hell cares about the damn OC anymore anyway? i don't even care about it. (so that confusion about my strange compulsion to go on and ON about it coupled with my severe lack of disinterest in tha show in general made me not want to write the play review)). oh, and the fact the only other times in my life, i've even attempted such a thing was in like... grade 13 drama class. and really, highschool drama classes are a joke. (NO! I WILL NOT TAKE THIS LEMON AND MAKE WEIRD SOUNDS WITH IT. NO, THIS IS JUST A DAMN WATERBOTTLE. I REFUSE TO PRETEND IT IS ANYTHING BUT THAT BECAUSE SUCH EXERCISES ARE JUST COMPLETELY STUPID AND MAKE EVERYONE PARTICIPATING IN THEM LOOK EQUALLY RETARDED. IT IS NOT A GUITAR. IT IS NOT AN AIRPLANE. TOSS IT TO ME ONE MORE TIME AND I WILL THROW IT BACK AT YOUR HEAD. HARD. AND I AM NOT IN A RACECAR. AND I AM SICK OF ROLLING AROUND ON THE DIRTY FLOOR LIKE A SEIZURE CHILD IN SOME WEIRD AIM TO IMPRESS THE ANNOYING PERSON THAT CALLS HERSELF A DRAMA INSTRUCTOR. GIVE ME A DAMN SCRIPT AND LET'S DO SOME REAL ACTING, OKAY? PRETENDING TO BE A STAPLER IS NOT ACTING. THANK YOU....I think "Nothing" from 'A Chorus Line' sums up my life (then) pretty succinctly. Seriously.) really, the only good that ever did was prepare me for one audition where i had to stand on a chair and sing "you are my sunshine" as if i were a monster... *sigh* memories. humiliating, humiliating memories. wow. um. that came out of nowhere. (and university drama class wasn't much better, of course. but at least there we did a little more yoga...while reading Dr. Seuss.)

see? it is reasons like the above that explain why i am completely incapable of writing reviews of things. A-D-D. give me some ritalin so i can get addicted to taking drugs at 8 years of age. or, like, verbal diarrhea where i fool myself into thinking that random strangers on the internet care in the least about my less than impressive forays into drama in high school.

okay back on topic. things i meant to do but now feel too lazy to actually do:

posting a boston legal fic. but now i hate it. it is too sappy and melodramatic. i could get away with that in O.C. land. not in BL land. (i am purposely ignoring the strange grammatical turn i took between that colon and this paragraph.)

and on that topic, a diatribe of nasty proportions about the mud-slinging against talented actors and then the firing of said actors, and how all that is related to the fact that the writing and direction of the show they USED to be on is completely responsible because in reality, said actors are very, VERY good and just horribly misused(abused even). gah. mark valley is far too hot not to be on my tv every week.

but what worries me (and this too was going to be a blog in itself) i am slowly losing interest in TV. every season there is less and less i care about. this year i merely had: corner gas, black donnellys, veronica mars, boston legal, the office. i tried without a trace for a while but i hate so much about the things it chooses to be. loathe. stupid ass show. cancel that crapfest, not black donnellys.

i also had a SHORT rant about that show. not so much the cancellation (because seriously, who DIDN'T see that one coming? it was a well-written, well-acted, well-scored, low-rated show on NBC for godsake. WHERE IS MY 'ED' COMPLETE SERIES ON DVD, NBC? You bastards.)

you know what? someone who will remain nameless just got into a relationship that creeps my shit out. (ew, that's a weird image). i really wonder about some people. like celine dion. OH GOD WHY DID I JUST SAY HER NAME? *shudder* she's like...no, stop talking. 20 vs 40. *sigh* i just don't know about certain people and what they are thinking (or perhaps not thinking).

oh yes, and finally. i learnt "forgiveness" by patty griffin today. it's only been like 5 years since i fell in love with that song. if you do not know this song, you are a good-music illiterate. (of course, nearly every single one of her songs is love.)

(also, i hate so much about alexandra patsavas. stop putting all my indie music on grey's anatomy you biznatch. how are we supposed to be all "indie" and super-snob-elite if everyone knows and loves our music? there is no such thing as indie anymore thanks to you, ms. p. go spend some more time choosing randomly inappropriate music for without a trace. seriously. bad. i am not just bitter because you have the best job in the world. (hmm, next to being a tornado chaser. or pro-surfer. or photographer. or like...beach bum.) stop having such good taste and forcing it on every grey's anatomy fan ever. (what's hilarious is she also did "skin". hahaha. i shouldn't laugh, but oh my, even if olivia wilde is in it, does not mean it is good. example: "skin". terrible.)

so jealous.

so seriously finally. my nails keep breaking. sucks. i know look like i have a nervous disorder and chew my nails. so gross.




okay. and one more: patty griffin is better than you

oh and i meant to also post about my random roadtrip in northern ontario for no particular reason. have you swam with polar bears? yeah. i thought not.




ps. i keep dreaming about eating baked beans and driving to germany (though not at the same time). please explain.

It is a record! Nearly.

For now:



Also, am brain dead. Spelt "Canadian" wrong on Customs declaration. (Also put wrong postal code. Genius.)

uh. yeah.

i realize i have a journal specifically for this kind of thing. i am also feeling quite lazy (what a change...) so here it is. maybe one day i'll log into my mixtape journal again.



( boston legal. brad/denise. god, i depress myself sometimes. )

It is actually quite sad that I did these fanmixes. Of course, the music files aren't uploaded because well... I'm lazy, and some of them are iTunes, so they have that lovely DRM protection on them and I lack the program to crack that on this computer.

Oh well.







As if, I spent my precious free time doing this.


(I'm also a lot loving Nelly Furtado. I despised her album at first. Now... *sigh*)

Things not to do at a Guster show:

1. Fart. (Then do the not-at-all-subtle glance around, then the "I'm uncomfortable" shuffle).
2. Bring a backpack.
3. Be a cheapskate and stuff your coat into said backpack so you can save the whole $1.75 it costs at coat check.
4. Wear a wool sweater and stand in the pit. Then scratch as the heat and your sweat make the shirt itchy.
5. Put your beer on the floor. You will lose it.
6. Make out. Just, no.
7. Bring your (tall) dad (who will stand in front of short girls like me).
8. Be a cheapskate and bring your backpack and bring your dad (who is wearing a wool sweater) to make out with and then fart while spilling beer on the floor.
(This one didn't happen. But it would still suck if it did.)


The End. Simple.
And Peter, Paul & Mary was very excellent tonight. If only more people listened to them nowadays.

Okay, is it just my lack of earthquake experience or what? I mean, last I heard when there is an earthquake it's probably NOT the best plan to lie on the floor and wait for everything to fall on you. Am I right? Or am I confusing this advice with 'what not to do when your house collapses'?

When I close my eyes, all I see are Chuzzles.

(In case you don't know.)

"She thought she signed up for a raffle."
"I like to win things I don't need."




"This baby doesn't even look like Santa."

And, as an extra X-Mas present, what started it all...
Buying A Tree

I'm not drunk. WTF is up with me these days?

9 drinks. No buzz.




Rip off.