Overflow From My Head

Maybe If I Could Bedazzle Them?

2011-07-20T23:43:00.000-06:00

I discovered something very important about myself today.

After a classic battle of Lorraine vs. herself that has lasted many years and caused many sleepless nights, I finally conceded.

I, Lorraine, third (and favourite) child of Doug and Sandra, lover of all things that are Heinz ketchup, in sound mind and body, declare in a LOUD BOOMING VOICE, AS INDICATED BY THESE CAPITAL LETTERS, THAT................

*dramatic pause*

I totally don't like plain t-shirts.

I KNOW, I KNOW! How can she not like plain t-shirts? What is there not to like? I swear, I TRIED to like them! Oh how I did try. You don't know how many times I stood in a change room after worming my way into a cost effective, comfortable plain t-shirt and convinced my reflection:

a) that it actually looked really good on her

b) to accept that not every shirt requires a design or unique characteristic to look good

c) that the plainness of the t-shirt is, in effect, its very own fashion.

Regretfully, these successful self-convincing arguments triggered countless plain t-shirt casualties. Perfectly acceptable plain t-shirts were purchased and promptly demoted to pajama shirt status. Yes, these plain t-shirts were not even granted the dignity to be worn in public. That is, until they were packed up in the semi-annual closet purge and donated to charity, where hopefully someone who was a little more appreciative of plain t-shirts gave them a loving, accepting home. A home where their self-esteems could flourish, away from the constant degradation they had become accustomed to in my residence; where they could feel the sweet exhilaration of being chosen above all other shirts, and not just worn on laundry day; where they could maintain their fresh laundry scent until the next time they were worn instead of gradually absorbing the wooden odor of the chest of drawers during their six month hibernation period.

As soon as I built up the courage to admit to myself that I don't like them, I felt a wave of freedom wash over me. The shackles were broken. My eyes were opened. Somewhere in the distance, the hallelujah chorus started playing. I don't like plain t-shirts, and THAT'S OKAY. I don't have to be ashamed. It was like I was trying so hard to be someone I'm not - someone who likes plain t-shirts.

Now, let me be clear; I don't want to be labeled as an anti-plain-t-shirter. I am all for plain t-shirts. They are versatile, comfortable, and look great on many, many people - most annoyingly, those girls who could make even a burlap sac look fashionable. (I hate those girls.) However, I need some character to my t-shirts. Some pizzaz. You know why? Because I am FULL of pizzaz. Maybe even some flair, depending on the day. And if my clothes can't reflect who I am, then really...why even bother wearing them in the first place?

My Relationship With Tacos

2011-06-22T20:38:00.020-06:00

Every once in awhile, when it is near the end of the work day and I am debating what to make for supper, one of the most marvelous words in the spanish dictionary forms in my mind:

(I actually do visualize it in that crappy '97 Microsoft word art format. I clearly need to upgrade my mental operating system.)

No matter how bad a day I am having, realizing I will soon be partaking in savoury tacos is enough to put me in good spirits. The rest of the work day is usually a write off since all I can do after I have this epiphany is bounce up and down in my chair while my brain rhythmically chants Tacos tacos tacos TACOS TACOS tacos tacos T-A-C-O-S, tacos tacos TAAAAACOS!

TacosTACOStacosTACOStacos!

TaCoStAcOsTaCoStAcOs!

taCOS! taCOS! TAcos! TAcos!

socat!

Tacos??

Ta......

COS!!!!

TACOS!

As soon as 5:00 p.m. hits, I begin the taco obtaining process by racing to the grocery store. I approach with the intensity of a Mission Impossible movie, determined to fend off danger and distractions in any form. Runaway shopping cart in the parking lot? BACKFLIP OVER IT! Driver not paying attention? DRAMATIC ROLLING OFF OF HOOD THROUGH THE AIR WITH PERFECT LANDING! Shoelace undone? LEAVE THE SHOE BEHIND, THERE IS NO TIME! Elderly woman taking too long to go through the entrance? VULCAN DEATH GRIP! (It's possible the vulcan death grip actually appeared in a different movie, but that is irrelevant.)

Upon entering the store, I am immediately greeted with more obstacles and distractions. Slow walkers, delicious non-taco food, cute guys with scottish accents asking for help with their packages...........of sugar. (The latter ONLY happens on taco craving days. It's a cruel conspiracy of the universe.) I skillfully dodge them all, assemble my taco ingredients, pay, and depart for home. Tacos tacos tacos tacos TACOS!

I arrive home in a tizzy. I can't get to my door fast enough. My work clothes fly through the air like a child's refused vegetables and are replaced by ground beef and sour cream splatter acceptable clothing. It's usually at this point that I realize I've forgotten to buy one of the main staples of tacos: taco seasoning. Once I have recovered from this initial blow and have finished blaming past Lorraine for her blatant incompetency, I review my options.

Current Lorraine's Options:

1. Drive back to grocery store. Repeat Mission Impossible theme. Consider repelling through roof over taco seasoning aisle.
2. Go to the nearby gas station in the hopes they have taco seasoning.
3. Call gas station to first confirm if they have taco seasoning as to not waste precious potential taco-eating minutes.
4. Decide all prior options take up too much time and attempt to make own seasoning with pepper, montreal steak spice, and a bottle I'm pretty sure is garlic salt. (I always go with this option.)

Waiting for the ground beef to cook is the part that requires the most patience.

There's so much pink! Why is there so much pink? HOW IS THERE STILL SO MUCH PINK!? Why won't you turn brown?? Are you too GOOD to turn brown? Are you not turning brown just because I want you to turn brown?? Fine, I DON'T want you to turn brown! Okay, I didn't mean it; please turn brown.

Once the ground beef is ready and the ingredients have been strategically placed in the taco shells, the excitement starts to climax. I am SO close to the prize. I take a second to mentally prepare myself. It's time. No more waiting. Everything, everything (from the grocery store) has lead to this moment. I pick up my first taco, which is horribly overstuffed in all the excitement and has already started to fall apart. Handling it delicately and lovingly, I take my first bite. And then.......

Tacorgasm.

Yes, it just doesn't get any better than this.

I eat until I am over satisfied, and put away my leftover ingredients in a post-taco-daze.

Until next time tacos...until next time.

Title: Master. First Name: Is what. Last Name: You Will Address Me As.

2010-07-15T12:27:00.027-06:00

I logged onto Westjet's website yesterday to book some flights for my upcoming vacation. When I reached the section where you enter your personal information, I saw they had a new title available in the drop down list:

My initial reaction was to wonder if people other than Jedi Knights actually hold the title of Master, and if it is imperative they are addressed as such while travelling?

"Would you like a beverage, sir?"
"I'm sorry, I do not respond to anyone who does not address me by my proper title of Master."

According to wikipedia, it was formerly common (in Anglophone Canada) for the English usage of master to be followed for boys, when addressing letters or in formal address, but use of the title Master has now largely ceased, outside of highly formal situations (such as for weddings and wedding invitations).

...wedding invitations??

You are cordially invited to the wedding of:

Master Sarah Johnson

and

Master Tom Henry

Their parents hope that the union of these two Masters will result in exponential growth of Masterdom for the family and will produce many Master sons and daughters, who will then procreate with other Masters creating a Master societal hierarchy in which they will be the sole Masters with the most Masterhood.

At least, that's how I'd write MY wedding invitation.

My second reaction was HEY...I could have some fun with this:

Once I had exhausted all my ideas for things I could be Master of, I started wondering what kind of a debacle the following would cause:

I imagine it would go something like this:

Westjet Rep: First name?
Me: Last Name.
WR: No, what is your FIRST name.
Me: Last Name...
WR: Fine, what is your LAST name then?
Me: First Name.
WR: I just asked you for your first name!
Me: I know. That's why I said Last Name.
WR: Look. Just tell me what your FIRST name is. The one that comes BEFORE your last name.
Me: Last name.
WR: *head explodes*

Sometimes The Most Effective Way To Express Your Feelings Is Through a Pie Chart

2010-06-16T19:56:00.016-06:00

Last night started off as a pretty average night. I came home from work, ate, relaxed, tv'd, internetted, and completely ignored my plans to go to bed at a semi-decent time. I'd finally started to drift off around 12:30 a.m. when I was awoken by what I can only describe as the sound of someone stomping in big, wet, sloshy rainboots down my condo hallway.

I was immediately extremely confused. My brain struggled to push me into full consciousness while trying to comprehend why someone would be stomping in big, wet, sloshy rainboots down my hallway in the middle of the night.

Fully awake and slightly terrified, I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling and weighed what I had heard against logic. I decided there were only two distinct possibilities; either there was an angry fisherman standing outside my condo door, or something else happened that only SOUNDED like an angry fisherman stomped down the hall to my door. Which was more likely though?

Reasons it could be an angry fisherman:

-Was raining today...could account for sloshy rainboots

-Building security not very effective. Could totally see some pimply teenager holding the door open with one hand for murderous-looking angry fisherman while holding six pack of beer, video games and graphic novel with the other

Reasons it would NOT be an angry fisherman:

-Fishermen rare in Edmonton due to lack of large bodies of water

-Have you ever seen a picture of a fisherman who DOESN'T look happy? Like, really.

Although I carefully weighed each factor, I was still pretty torn:

My next step was to determine if this sound was worth getting out of bed to investigate.

I quickly made a mental list of pros and cons for getting up:

Pro - If angry fisherman is present and threatening situation ensues, can better utilize mad ninja skills if not lying down

Con - Must leave illusion of impenetrable fortress created by hiding under covers

Pro - By getting up, I will burn 7 of the 400 calories I intended to burn off before deciding to skip the gym today

Con - On a scale of "unlikely" to "extremely likely", the odds of me tripping on something in the dark are "definite"

Pro - Angry fisherman might be cute?

Con - If there is no evidence to back up strange sound, will have no choice but to determine sound was a result of a bad food dream forcing me to sacrifice my customary fruit-roll-up snack before bed

Pro - Maybe the lottery ticket I bought last week WAS a winner, and the sound I heard was actually people excitedly hiding so that when I walk out of my room they will jump out and yell "SURPRISE! YOU ARE A MILLIONAIRE! Here is your oversized cardboard cheque. We apologize for how difficult it will be to fit it into the bank machine's deposit slot. Would you like to pay someone to deposit it for you?"

It was upon realization that the safety of my cat could be in jeopardy (I don't know how fishermen feel about cats) that I finally decided to conduct a quick walk-around.

I stepped into the living room, turned on the light and was astonished by what I saw...

As it turns out, my cat was the angry fisherman!

Apparently the sound of big, wet, sloshy rainboots stomping down a hallway is identical to the sound your cat makes the first time she yaks all over your floor.

Important Warning Signs That You May Have Turned Into a Sloth

2010-06-15T19:35:00.014-06:00

You have a mini heart attack every time you hear someone walk outside the door of your condo because it could be your roommate, and you’re not quite sure if you have enough time in between hearing her keys jingle and sprinting to your bedroom in order to avoid her seeing you sitting on the couch eating freezer-burnt ice cream in nothing but your underwear

You sit on the couch eating freezer-burnt ice cream in nothing but your underwear

The vacuum was successfully retrieved from the closet, but the only function it now serves is to stand like a Greek statue in the middle of your living room. You dutifully walk around it as to not disturb its artistic stature.

“Hey, this blog I found is so totally awesome, like I mean, wow, it’s so incredibly funny and I could read it forever and then I could read it some more and OH GOOD GAWD how has four hours past already?!”

The only reasons you have removed yourself from the crater your ass has created in the couch is for washroom breaks and to heat up a microwave dinner.

You feel physically incapable of turning off the tv even though you have a splitting headache from watching too much of it and it’s long past the point that anything remotely decent or entertaining would be on.
Pretty soon you’re stuck flipping between a rerun of Hell’s Kitchen (you know, the one where Chef Ramsey loses his sh*t and shuts down dinner service) and one of the Matrix sequels where Morpheous struts around in sunglasses that are supposedly so cool they don’t even need arms.
“I seem to have spilt some juice on the counter. I should probably clean that up. Yup. Probably should.”

The garbage and recycling are so very full but you insist on stuffing them down some more because damn it, you’re not taking both those bags out simply because some empty milk carton has the arrogance to take up so much space.

If you identify with any of these telling signs but are still unsure if you are a sloth, it won’t hurt to take immediate corrective action just in case:

Peel yourself off the couch and go outside for a run.
If this task seems too daunting or pushes you too far out of your sloth comfort zone, at least pull yourself onto the elliptical beside your couch that has rapidly been collecting dust since you discovered one side squeaks like a squirrel that swallowed a chew toy, subsequently causing you to pull multiple muscles because you think by shifting your weight around you can trick the elliptical into not making said squeaky noise.
Use earplugs to circumvent the squeaks.
For motivation while you are exercising, put up some red tape between two walls or objects in front of your elliptical. This will create the illusion that you are in a race and very very close to the finish line. (For added effect, play theme song from Chariots of Fire in the background.)
Once you have completed your allotted amount of exercise time, feel free to run through the red tape chest first with your arms flailing gloriously in the air. Jump up and down in slow motion. Avoid any nearby furniture. (Important note: Unfortunately, simply thinking about exercising does not burn any calories.)

Call a friend to come over at a specified time. Choose someone you know well enough to invite over but not well enough that you wouldn’t care if they came in and saw you living like a sloth. You now have a deadline to tidy up, vacuum, do laundry, shower and make yourself look like you weren’t rescued from a bayou and raised by a pack of mangy wolves who cared little for personal hygiene.

Trick yourself into thinking that you are the Terminator, but instead of fighting evil robots from the future, your mission is to destroy dirt and uncleanliness in all its forms. Schwarzenegger accent and catch phrases should be used sparingly.

Warning – prolonged slothen activity could be hazardous to your health. If you have been suffering from intense symptoms that have lasted for more than seven days, please consult your physician, therapist, life coach, and contact a junk removal service to remove the stack of pizza boxes that is threatening to fall over and bury your cat alive.

Conversation Medley: Spock, Euchre and Cat Tails

2010-06-02T10:52:00.009-06:00

Via msn:

Me: My friend met Spock about a month ago.

Brian: When he was in Vulcan?

Me: Yeah, and Calgary.

Brian: He must get very tired of still being Spock...

Me: If I were him, I think I would be having an identity crisis for the past 50 years.

Brian: I think I would be tempted to get up at the podium...stare out at all the people dressed in Trek clothes...and tell them to move on.
________________________

While playing euchre:

My euchre partner: Why is it that you only win when I’m not your partner?!

Me: …because you’re not my partner…?
________________________

While I draw a picture of my co-worker's cat on her white board, she tells me a story about meeting her ex for coffee:

“So yeah, he walked in and…he has a long black tail with a white tip.”

I stop drawing and turn to her…

“…what? Wow, what kind of kinky guys do you date!?”

Spelling & Grammar Pet Peeves

2010-03-27T20:16:00.009-06:00

I was talking with a friend today about spelling and grammar pet peeves. While I in no way claim to be the all knowing authoritative source for spelling and grammar, and do (on rare occasions, ahem) make errors myself, I cannot help but be bothered by some very common spelling and grammar mistakes. I've also discovered a definitive correlation between the type of error and my level of annoyance. If I were to chart it, it would go something like this:

C Level Errors

Annoyance Level: Mild

Annoyance Indications: furrowing of one or both eyebrows, narrowing of eyes

then/than
to/too
its/it's
effect/affect
whose/who's
double spaces between words

B Level Errors

Annoyance Level: Medium

Annoyance Indications: Unsuccessful suppression of eye twitches, low grunts of disapproval

you're/your
there/their/they're
desert/dessert
where/wear
were/we're

A Level Errors

Annoyance Level: High

Annoyance Indications: Yeti-like noises and mannerisms

using three commas instead of ellipses (,,,/...)
apostrophes in the wrong place, such as turning "doesn't" into "does'nt". (Saw this error on a shirt in Bluenotes one day. True story.)
spelling the word "definitely" incorrectly such as; definately, deffinatly, definatly, and ESPECIALLY defiantly, which makes it a different word all together

One of my co-workers perpetually writes "defiantly" instead of "definitely", and I've been trying for months to find a gentle way of saying AHHH STOP WRITING 'DEFIANTLY' WHEN YOU MEAN 'DEFINITELY' BECAUSE EVERY TIME YOU DO A SMALL PIECE OF ME DIES! Just remember; every time you write "defiantly" instead of "definitely", the terrorists have won.

My friend did mention that one of the only times it pleases him to see things spelt incorrectly is in a tattoo, and he sent me a link to this picture, which really just made my day:

I'm actually not incredibly surprised that someone who would want "I'm Awesome" tattooed on their back would spell it incorrectly.

Google (The Wise & Powerful)

2010-02-08T19:44:00.011-07:00

I was in the middle of doing laundry tonight when I noticed one of my white shirts - despite having been bleached repeatedly - was still not looking quite as white as I would like it to. Being the resourceful perfectionist that I am, I immediately consulted the all-knowing Google.

Oh wise and powerful Google, the 2000's version of www.askjeeves.com, the modern-day magic 8 ball of all knowledge replacing vague, obtuse answers such as "ask again later" or "outlook not so good" with millions of answers of every colour, shape and size conveniently categorized into "results". But you are not only a provider of knowledge, oh no...you also add joy to already joyous holidays by presenting a lovely custom Google graphic logo. I always know when it's Halloween because when I google something on October 31st, I see the letter G is lookin' mighty smug in its witches hat, and those two little o's are lookin' mighty uncomfortable stewing in that cauldron. Although, I must say, even on an average day, just seeing those primary colours (plus that sneaky non-primary-coloured green 'l') softly dance around the curves of the Google letters makes me feel happy. I think because those colours subconsciously remind me of crayons. And, really, who doesn't like the thought of crayons?

So laundry...right. I log on to google (the wise and powerful), type the first three words of "how to get your shirts their whitest" and see google (the wise and powerful) - like an over-zealous student that sits at the front of the class and yips "OOOHHH OHHH! PICK ME, I KNOW, I KNOW!" while nearly falling out of his chair from pushing his hand so far in the air in an effort to answer the question before the teacher has even finished asking it - present me with its top ten guesses for what I am hoping to learn how to get. Here is the list:

Let's take a moment to examine the top ten things that people have googled "how to get".

"How to get rid of fruit flies" is second ONLY to "How to get pregnant". We hate them so much that as soon as we conquer that challenging and highly emotional conception problem, the most prominent issue in our minds is dealing with those damn fruit flies.
50% of the listed items are cosmetic.
People desperately want to know how to get a guy to like them, but not as desperately as wanting to know how to get a girl to like them.
'Bed bugs', despite being used for ages as a seemingly cute bedtime rhyme for children ("Goodnight...sleep tight...don't let the bed bugs bite...") actually DO exist, and, coming in at number 8, are much more prevalent than we might have thought. (Although, not as prevalent as fruit flies.)

On a google (the wise and powerful) sub-topic, have you ever googled yourself? I just did. Just now. Just for funsies. Check it out:

1,210,000 results! Google (the wise and powerful) loves me THAT much. I knew the feeling was mutual.

Cards For Coworkers

2009-08-31T10:56:00.004-06:00

This email from Nikki, my fellow stuck-behind-a-desk-all-day friend, totally made my Friday afternoon:

K, so get this! I just got a card thrown at me to sign, and I assumed it was a birthday card because we celebrate EVERYONE'S birthday. Anyway, I signed it saying "Happy Birthday” and it turns out it was a Going Away card.
“You’ll be missed!”
“Good luck!”
“Happy Birthday!”
Oops.

I know I'm going to hell for saying this, but the only thing that could have possibly made this funnier was if it was a bereavement card:

"I'm so sorry for your loss."
"You're in our thoughts and prayers."
"Happy Birthday!"

New Methods For That Caffeine Fix

2009-08-25T08:54:00.006-06:00

via text messages:

Nolan: Pumped for another exciting day at work?

Me: I was thinking about injecting coffee directly into my veins.

Nolan: Oh yeah? Weird...I was going to grind it and snort it.

Chasing The Apocalypse

2009-07-19T17:10:00.014-06:00

I feared for my life a little bit last night. Just a little bit.

My friend Peter and I were taking a stroll around the plaza where we got our ice cream (CHEESECAKE flavoured ice cream...how long has this been around and why did nobody tell me sooner?!) when we looked up at the sky and saw a huge storm front moving in complete with suspicious looking green clouds. Peter made a comment about how he felt like we should be in Independence Day, and I agreed. I stared up at the sky and waited for some gigantic alien ship to emerge through the clouds.

We'd already changed our plans because of the weather. We were going to head down to Ed Fest to see The Arkells and Pilot Speed when the thunder made us change our minds. This was probably a good thing because apparently, according to the Sonic 102.9 twitter feed, the stage blew over, and garbage cans were flying through the air. Not wanting to be blown over OR hit with garbage cans, Peter and I did the next most logical thing. Got food and went tornado chasing.

Although I had my smaller, lesser quality camera with me, I still wanted to go home and grab my "good" camera, which took us in the same direction as the ominous dark clouds. I've got my head out the window while snapping pictures with one hand and steering with the other, and Peter is torn between staring at the clouds and making sure I don't crash my car. We came to a stop light where I could finally take some non-blurry pictures, and noted that we just may be witnessing the apocalypse.

Earlier in the evening, Peter had rolled down my passenger side window not knowing it was broken, and naturally, it refused to go back up. This wasn't that much of a problem until a huge cloud of dust and debris came tumbling down the road at us. Peter is now manually holding my window up, and the wind decides to take some rocks - not stones, but rocks - and attack my car, leaving a nice crack in my windshield. You know, because the broken window just wasn't enough. *growl*.

We turned into my parking lot, and the street lights, as well as the lights in my building, are flickering on and off. Peter had been kind enough to hold on to the cup of my leftover ice cream until he had to put it on the dashboard to hold up the window, but since I'm driving like a maniac, it went flying through the air and landed in his lap. I start laughing. He is not too pleased, but figures it's an equal trade off for the broken window.

Up in my condo, Peter cleans up while I grab my camera, a few garbage bags and some packing tape. We go back down to my car and notice that it has decided to start raining. We frantically try to tape up my window but keep losing the end of the packing tape. Okay, *I* kept losing the end of the packing tape. I can't do things when there is a storm to distract me! I get all giddy and excited and ridiculous.

Peter uses the light inside my car to search for the impossible to find end of the packing tape

We finally get it taped up as much as possible and try to drive off to find a good place to watch the storm. Except for one little problem. With the passenger side window now completely covered in black garbage bags, I can't see any traffic coming from the right, and therefore cannot make any left hand turns. So, four right hand turns later, and we'd settled in a little parking lot near my condo building. And, after years of trying, I was finally able to photograph some lightning:

This one flickered for a good few seconds and Peter said "You HAD to have gotten that!" Yes Peter...yes I did.

I call this one "Nature Doing The Splits"

Sheet lightning making my condo building look like the entrance to the abyss

We eventually decided to head back to my condo and watch the rest of the storm from my balcony. Of course we did this when it was raining its heaviest, my parking lot was a massive river, and it was hailing. I thought it would be a good idea to take a video of the mad dash from the car to the condo. You can't see much in the middle of the video, (it's mostly my high pitched giggles), but it was the most fun I've had in a long time.

Trouble In Technological Paradise

2009-07-02T12:00:00.016-06:00

My cell phone and I haven't been on good terms lately. There's been some bickering, some emotional manipulation, and even threats of violence. And while we generally try not to go to bed angry with each other, it's kind-of been inevitable lately. Patience and forgiveness are wearing thin. Naturally, I fully blame my cell phone for all of our issues. If it would just BE NICE and RELIABLE we wouldn't have anything to argue about.

I originally got the phone around a year and a half ago. I was home for Christmas in Ontario, on a tight budget, and willing to sign a three year contract if it meant I didn't have to pay a cent for the phone. I got my wish, and came home with the LG Wave. Which I bought mainly because it starts out red at the top and transitions to black, and gosh darn it, it looked pretty. (See picture). It also didn't seem strewn with unnecessary bells and whistles, which I honestly hate about cell phones these days. If I could buy a cell phone without a camera installed in it, I would, but I don't think they even exist anymore. What happened to single function devices? Everything has to be multi-functional, and yet all the functions it incorporates are not nearly as high quality as individual functioning devices. For example, there's no way a tiny little camera built into a cell phone is going to have anything close to the quality of my 10.0 megapixel 20x optical/digital zoom camera. So until they make that possible, I will stick to my single function devices. Such as my ipod. Which has 80 gigs. Which an iphone would not have. My point continues.

As far as I can remember, my cell phone and I generally got along pretty well. I can't remember exactly when it started - as I suppose most people in troubled relationships can't - but gradually my cell phone began to act...well...different. These actions included, but were not limited to:

Lying when it said it was making a phone call. It would TELL me it was "calling", except there was no ringing, and then after about 30 seconds of waiting, I would finally get the cold, hard truth: "Call failed".
Not giving me my text messages until eight hours after they were sent. (It chose 4:30 a.m. to deliver them.)
Not letting me send out texts (possibly out of jealousy, as there WERE some male recipients.) It would tell me it's "Connecting" for five minutes before informing me "Message is not sent. General problems." GENERAL PROBLEMS? If you're going to screw up my texting, at least think up a worthwhile excuse! You stupid, stupid phone!
Mood swings: one minute having a full signal, and the next having no signal at all. (While remaining in exactly the same location.)
Closing itself on me in the middle of sending texts because I made the mistake of holding it vertically and apparently it just took too much effort to stay open in that position.
Only staying charged for one or two days max. (Burnt out from all the arguing, I assume.)
General brattiness: the T9 word function always changes "it?" into "i8.", I SWEAR just to annoy me. Also, when I type "chiropractor" it first gives me "chipossabuns". THEN I have to hit "next" to get to "chiropractor." Which is completely logical. I'm always texting about chipossabuns. (Is that even a word?)

Lately it's new way to irritate me has been to send the wrong "reply to" number when I text, so when someone tries to reply to me, they end up talking to some random person in Alberta, or, as occurred on one occasion, B.C. Either that or I receive replies asking "who is this?" because the text appears to be coming from a number that is not mine, and, let's face it, receiving a text that says "I just narrowly missed walking into a firetruck" may sound pretty bizarre to someone who doesn't know me or my texting ways.

I finally had it up to HERE with my phone, and decided that our relationship needed to come to an end. So I marched into Telus (a.k.a. the divorce lawyer) to investigate my options. They said they would give me $150 towards a new phone or $200 towards a "smart" phone. (Because clearly, the old phones are stupid phones. Hahahaha. Haha. Ha...ah.) However, if I don't want to incur any extra costs, I have all of two phones to choose from. One of them is an LG model that is very similar to the one I have now, and the other one is so old it's on the verge of being discontinued. SPEAKING OF DISCONTINUED; I was also informed that my phone, as well as the entire "Chocolate" line from LG, was discontinued months after it was released because they were just, so, BAD. I wish they recalled cell phones like they do cars.

The injustice of this entire cell phone situation has stirred deep within me, conjuring up some sort of Cell Phone Avenger superhero-type character who wants to right the wrongs for all those who have been screwed over by a cell phone service provider, or suffered because of the lack of quality of their cell phones. Here is my logic, and I'm really going to emphasize this, so you might want to cover your ears:

IF THE CELL PHONE IS NOT OF HIGH ENOUGH QUALITY TO LAST THE TERM OF THE CONTRACT, IT SHOULD BE REPLACED FREE OF CHARGE!

Why should the consumer have to pay for the lack of quality?! We're already getting screwed by outrageous phone plans, especially now that you have to pay to receive texting! (Don't even get me started on that.) If I buy a phone on a three year contract, I expect that phone to last the duration of the contract. And that is just how it should be! And each one of us needs to step up and fight for how it should be. Let's ban together! Riot for cell phone quality! Protect the rights of the consumer! Better cell phone service for all! *flips cape*

A Surprise Around Every Corner. Well, One In Particular.

2009-04-07T19:16:00.002-06:00

It was an average night after an average work day when Nikki and I decided to go for some average food at an average restaurant. We finished a scrum-diddly-umptious meal and headed out into the parking lot, giggling about something that I'm sure only we would find humorous. We turned to go around the corner of the building, and stopped dead in our tracks. Here is the conversation that immediately took place:

Lorraine: Um. That's a penis. That man has his penis out.

Nikki: ...and he is peeing.

We abruptly turn around and walk back the way we came. Nikki is laughing uncontrollably. I am in a state of shock.

Nikki: I didn't see anything except the stream.

Lorraine: I noticed IT first and THEN the stream! He wasn't even using his hands to aim! He was just STANDING there! I don't know whether to be impressed or disgusted!! No wait, definitely disgusted!

I start gagging. Nikki laughs harder at me gagging, because for some reason, it's hilarious to her.

Lorraine: I really hate Edmonton sometimes.

Luckily when we went around the other way to my car, mysterious drunken peeing guy had disappeared. But I still gagged, (and Nikki still laughed) alllll the way home.

Ketchup Love

2009-03-20T11:49:00.002-06:00

*Conversation over a breakfast sandwhich at Tim Hortons. With ketchup.*

Nikki: Why do you love ketchup so much?

Lorraine:...why do you love your BOYFRIEND so much??

Nikki: Because...he's pretty amazing.

Lorraine: Yeah, well, so is ketchup.

More Blonde Moments With Nikki

2009-03-05T10:31:00.004-07:00

Via msn:

Me: Don't let me forget, I have to fast tomorrow.

Nikki: Why??

Me: I have to get some blood work done on my lunch hour and I have to fast twelve hours before.

Nikki: Oh. You're going on your lunch?

Me: Yeah, it's at 12:40.

Nikki: Oh.

Me: So yeah, I can't eat past midnight tonight.

Nikki: Ah...I was trying to figure it out. I was counting on my fingers and everything.

Me: Umm...if you add or subtract twelve hours to a time, it's still the same number...3 a.m. plus twelve hours is 3 p.m...

Nikki: ...leave me alone!

Vacationers Beware...

2009-02-23T20:18:00.006-07:00

...or you may come back to work and find your office decked out like one of these! Below are authentic pictures of offices from my work that have been decorated while their occupant was away on vacation. Please note the careful attention to detail.

I wonder how many rolls of tin foil that took? It reminds me of that episode of Mr. Bean when he decides to paint and wraps his entire apartment in newspaper so he can light a stick of dynamite in a paint can. I wish I'd remembered that before I painted my living room.

Office camping!! Also handy if you work late and need to stay at work overnight.

The stuffed bear covered while the director was on vacation. According to the paw prints, he can defy gravity. Now that's a bear you want in charge.

Maxipads. Why? I have no idea. Also, I have no idea about the mouse or rat on the screen.

I've saved the best for last. There are a few impressive things here. Somehow (I have NO idea how) they got a real tub and toilet in the office, but not before first laying down the tile.

Michelle enjoys her newly decorated office, complete with toilet paper. Hopefully she has hand sanitizer handy.

Giving Up On Comedy

2009-01-12T23:48:00.003-07:00

*the following conversation takes place via msn between the hours of 11:00 p.m. and 12:00 a.m. Events are in real time. tick. tick. tick. tick.*

Jamie: Anyway, I need to get to bed and it sounds like you do too.

Me: Yeah, I totally do. But before you go, you have to admit my joke was pretty funny, right...right??

Jamie: What joke?? Wait, there was a joke?

Me: That's quite possibly the most disheartening response I have ever gotten to that question.

A New Take on "Sugar High"

2009-01-10T21:44:00.001-07:00

Nikki: I LOVE these Rockets candies. I had them all the time when I was a kid. We used to crush them up and snort them and pretend it was coke.

*Lorraine looks dumbfounded*

Nikki: What?! I grew up in a rough town, ok??

Home Sweet Hotel Room

2008-12-22T00:54:00.003-07:00

Today has been a gong show.

Why is it that every year I fly home for the holidays (and by every year, I mean this year and last year) there has to be some ridiculous snow storm exactly when I am traveling? Is mother nature so cruel that she would send her frozen fury right at the time that everyone wants to travel for the holidays? Is she bitter that she doesn't have a family to visit for Christmas, and is taking it out on us? No Father Nature to cozy up to? No little mini-natures running around the...uhh...earth or sky?

Today started out with me being worried I was going to miss my flight at 4:40 p.m. Turns out I didn't have to worry at all. I could have even stayed home for a few more hours. My flight didn't leave until 9:30 p.m. This would be all well and fine if it was a direct flight to Hamilton. Except this flight was only 36 minutes to Calgary, where I was supposed to catch a connecting flight to Hamilton. The connecting flight did wait, but not long enough. So here I am using a hotel voucher from Westjet at the Travelodge, which I arrived at with my voucher for a taxi from Westjet. Do I have a flight tomorrow? Nope. What did they say to do? Call between 10 a.m. and noon. WHAT!? I just tried calling Westjet and got a message along the lines of "Due to the immense amount of phone calls Westjet is experiencing, our phone system is not capable of holding your call. Please try again later."

Honestly, I don't even mind the delay itself. There is no rush to get home as long as it's before Christmas. What upsets me is that my flight hasn't been rescheduled. And I'm sure any remaining flights to get anywhere in southern Ontario between now and Christmas are booked solid. And all I can think about is that I'm going to end up spending Christmas in neither of my homes, but in a Calgary hotel room. And that thought is so depressing that I may have to break into the mini bar. Actually I don't even see one in this room. Probably a good thing right now.

I have to say, so far, and despite what I have written, I'm proud of myself for taking all of this so well. Up until I found out my flight wasn't rescheduled, I was doing great. I was even laughing at the ridiculous things other pissed off travelers were saying. "You know it's all Westjet's fault right? They new from the beginning it was going to be delayed that long. They just kept delaying the flight by 30 minutes so we wouldn't get upset." Now with this logic, either Westjet is incredibly stupid as obviously people would be more upset in the end, or the person who told me is immensely stupid for believing a conspiracy theory between Westjet and it's customers. I'm going with the latter.

What really gets me is the people who think they have a right to scream and complain to anyone wearing a westjet uniform. When the customer service desk rep was asked when another rep was coming to help him with the insanely long line, he said soon, and some huge jackass behind me in line actually had the nerve to yell out "'Soon' according to Westjet means an hour and a half." This was after he discussed with someone how in "flight attendant school" they have a special course for time terminology (such as soon=an hour and a half). He also advised not to ask too many questions because they wouldn't be able to understand. I finally turned around and faced his immense beer belly and said "They're doing everything they can. There's no need to be a jerk!" He nodded and, I think, concentrated on not tearing me a new one. Anyone who thinks that Westjet intentionally delayed the flights and caused the chaos at the airport is off their rocker. I wish that full grown adults had the maturity to realize hey, it sucks for everybody. Snowstorms screw up flights. It happens. Deal with your anger in a "grown up" way instead of complaining and screaming at people.

Some funny things have occurred through all of this. It was the first time I had seen a roll call done on a flight. We all raised our hands as we heard our name, just like in grade school. I wanted to yell out "PRESENT!!" but lost my nerve. My favourite part was when they asked if Ryan Hays was on board;

Stewardess: Is there a Ryan Hays on board? Can you raise your hand please? Ok, I see two hands there. I only need one for Ryan Hays. Thank you.

I guess one was Ryan Hays, and one just really wanted to be Ryan Hays??

Other things that happened:

Got "randomly selected" to be padded down by security. A VERY thorough pat down, mind you. I had to swallow back "So...are you going to buy me dinner now?" jokes.
Asked for a tea when the beverage cart came by. Got it just as the pilot announced "we are now beginning our decent. Please place your trays in their upright positions and prepare for landing." Subsequently had to chug hot tea.
Nearly yelled "DOWN IN FRONT!" at a child in the way of the Shrek Christmas movie they had playing at the gate.
Voucher said "Travelodge, Mcloud". Taxi driver said there were two on McLoud. Naturally, only one took the vouchers, and we went to the other first.
Fell asleep clutching my cell phone and laptop in a comfy chair in Second Cup.

Things that are happening now:

I'm going to bed.

Here's hoping I make it home for the holidays. I'd give just about anything to hug my parents and hold my baby niece right now.

We're All The Stars Of Our Own TV Shows

2008-12-03T19:08:00.007-07:00

I was accosted the other day on my way to work.

I had just stumbled off of my bus ride in my usual early morning zombie-like state and made my way to the street corner across from my work. I immediately noticed a few people standing around the corner with a tv camera aimed at them. Before I turned my head in an attempt to discretely walk by, I saw that it was two people collecting for the Salvation Army with a bell and a collection ball hanging thingy. I'm sure there is a more technical term somewhere.

Turns out it was someone from Citytv breakfast television trying to help the Salvation Army rep collect donations. I made the mistake of turning around and accidentally making eye contact which she used as her opportunity to ask me if I would like to donate anything to the Salvation Army. 50 cents, a dime, ANYTHING she says. Not wanting to be the jackass that turns down a charity, especially on tv, I dug out my wallet, faced the camera, and wished I had been a little bit more attentive with my make up that day.

When I put it in, the Citytv host asked me if there was anyone I wanted to say good morning to. Knowing that A) there would be nobody I knew who was watching that

station at that time and B) well...actually just point "A)" again, I stared terrified into the camera and said something resembling "uuuuuummmgggguhh...gooooood moooorning...uhhh....Edmonton???" to which she responded "Well said!"

I was actually able to retrieve a shot of me being on tv. Here is a screen shot of the incident:

After this, I swiftly walked into work extremely flustered and hoping nobody saw my tv debut.

Nikki wasn't in yet, so I went up and left a note on her desk saying "I was accosted this morning." but left it unsigned. She called me about 15 minutes later. Our conversation went like this:

Nikki: How were you accosted?

Lorraine: How did you know it was me?!

Nikki: Honestly Lorraine...you're the only person I know who would use the word "accosted."

She knows me too well.

Premonition

2008-11-11T09:39:00.004-07:00

Driving home on Saturday night:

Thought process in Lorraine's head:

Why are these freakin' cars driving so slow?! Why do people drive EXACTLY the limit here? Get out of my way. Yeesh. Finally, I can accelerate. Okay, I'm only going 70k/h in a 60 zone. That's not bad, I can live with this. Hey, it's weird, I keep hearing about how they have photo radar here, but in the year I've lived here, I've never gotten caught. Which I'm pretty lucky for, because I speed a lot. Although now that I'm thinking about how I've never been caught, I'm probably going to get caught. Ha, wouldn't that be a crappy coincidence. That would suck. *Looks around nervously*

*FLASH*

Me: Nikki. Did you see that.

Nikki: Yes. You just got caught on photo radar.

Desperate for a drink

2008-11-09T19:26:00.005-07:00

Nikki and I are waiting to get drinks at the bar at the bowling alley. The server is checking ID for some people ahead of us.

Server: Can I see some ID?

Young girl: *hands a piece of paper that looks like an official government document*

Server: *pause* I'm sorry, I can't accept this.

Young girl: Why not??

Server: Well...the picture is taped on.

A New Level Of Sophistication

2008-11-05T18:39:00.005-07:00

I hate it when people take pictures of me when I'm not expecting it. The outcome is usually awful - face crunched into some strange expression, body positioned in an awkward or seemingly (but completely unintentional) sexual pose. However, one photographer was recently able to capture the essense of my beauty and sophistication with one effortless push of the shutter button. I was truly amazed. I'm not trying to brag here, but don't be suprised if this particular picture conjures up such images as a duchess from the Victorian era, or perhaps a ballerina dancer poised with grace as she is seemlessly lifted into the air by her partner. Truly, sophistication will have a new definition for you after viewing this photo. The bar has been raised my friends...it has been raised.

So without further ado...I give you the photo humbly named..."The Epitome of Sophistication."

(Please scroll down.)

...and THAT is how we do it. Booya.

In a recent MSN conversation with my UK buddy...

2008-10-27T18:22:00.002-06:00

Me: So speaking of Gandhi, do you think non-violent non-cooperation could work in modern day society?

Euan: ...is this not the cutest squirrel EVER???

Further Evidence That I Should Not Procreate

2008-10-23T22:10:00.003-06:00

It's getting harder to laugh at the stupid things I do when they occur so often.

Some backlogged items:

3. A month or two ago I told Nikki that the drain in one of our double sinks was clogged. The water was murkey and I couldn't see the bottom. Turns out I just completely forgot that I put the plug in. I discovered this two days later. (Thankfully before I contacted our landlord)

2. A month ago I was working late and realized I had to move my car as my parking had expired. Got my car, moved it into the company parkade, then tried to use my keycard to get up to the lobby. Didn't work. Had to wait for someone to come out the door and then snuck in. Got to the lobby, couldn't scan in the elevator. Got security to scan me in. Got to my floor. Couldn't scan into my floor. Went back down to the lobby. Security calls our company rep. Gets permission to scan me onto my floor. I leave a message for Facilities to fix my dang card. I grab my stuff and leave. I go to scan into the elevator on the off chance it will work. I hold up my key card and realize...yes. I have been using my apartment keycard instead of my work keycard. Yes, they look identical. But are on separate keychains.

That brings us to today's incident.

1. I tried baking a carrot cake last night for our United Way bake sale today. I got as far as getting the batter ready in a bowl before taking a break and subsequently crashing. Tonight I attempted to finish, which I thought I had done successfully until I realized I had forgotten one vital item; the carrots.

I'm getting kinda scared. Hold me.

Note to self: don't...do...anything.

2008-10-22T00:57:00.007-06:00

Nikki: You're a disaster today.
Lorraine: You tell me that every day.
Nikki: No, I usually say you are a mess. Today you're a disaster!

I'm not sure if this is the way I have always been and I just never really took note of it, or if this is something new. The last time I felt this clumsy was probably around puberty, when my body started growing rapidly but had apparently left my hand-eye coordination behind.

Lately I've been doing things like walking into walls, coffee tables, various other inanimate objects, and just getting hurt in very strange ways. (Moreso than usual, is my point.)

I guess they aren't only strange but also stupid. For example, I can't keep a drink from spilling to save my life. I also keep perpetually walking into the corner posts of my bed. On closer inspection, it looks like someone specifically designed the posts for this purpose. Despite the obvious lack of esthetics, I am still considering buying foam or some type of padding and using duct tape to securely fasten to each post. *brief moment of affection for duct tape*

Then there was the incident a few days ago where I seared my finger on a broken part of a mixer that belonged to a movie-theater style popcorn maker. How did this happen, you ask? Well, first of all, I'm an idiot and immediately grabbed it when it fell out of the popcorn pot without it even occurring to me that it would be ridiculously hot, and secondly, it was part of my volunteering duties for our United Way campaign at work. Since it did occur on work time, I briefly considered filing for workman's comp, but discarded this idea due to the consequence of having more people find out about my stupidity, and subsequently creating a safety incident report which would soon be circulated to the entire company.

Unfortunately, this was not the only incident with the popcorn maker...oh no. I also had a burning hot kernel fly out of the pot and target the gap between the collar of my shirt and my chest like a fat kid on a smartie. Fearing I would accidentally bare my breasts in front of my coworkers during my mad attempt to remove it, I ran away clutching my chest. (You can imagine how graceful and sophisticated this looked.) Two days later, I have three very red and very large blisters from where it first fell beneath my breast, stubbornly moved to a second spot under my breast, and firmly planted itself in the center of my bra, the part which provides the most pressure against the skin. If I could put up a tactful picture of this, I would.

I can't help but wonder how this particular kernel found it's way three feet away from where it was sitting and into the tiniest crevice of my shirt. Really...the angles must have been so precise and exact, along with the amount of velocity it took to shoot out of the pot. AND it knew to do it when somebody I had just met on the United Way committee was talking to me. Which makes me hope I haven't developed a reputation as "girl who burns herself by accident a lot." Yes, there is no doubt...this kernel was out to get me. This kernel HUNTED ME DOWN. (Kudos to anybody who got the Dane Cook reference.)

I've been trying to come up with a good reason that these things keep happening, and after ruling out brain tumor (mostly because that is clearly a child of my paranoia), I have yet to come up with a good explanation. So for now, let's go with a second puberty, and I will heartily await to grow another few inches taller.

All The Good Ones Are Taken

2008-10-12T16:54:00.003-06:00

It's just so frustrating. Every time I find a new one that I think has potential, I find out just as soon - taken. What's a girl to do? You know what I'm talking about...email addresses.

The one I currently use I have had since I was in gradeschool. As I type, there are 286 unread emails sitting in the inbox that consist of everything from forwards I'm too lazy to read to special offers from amazon to notices that it's time to pay my utility bills. Aside from the sheer mass of emails I receive that I neither need nor want, my user name has underscores in between each word, and gosh darn it, I'm lazy. I want a user name/email address that I don't have to reach all the way up to the numerical row to type in. Plus, trying to tell it to someone goes something like this: "Ok. So my email is 'just, underscore, little, underscore, old, underscore, me.'" A slight pain in the ass.

So off I went to gmail to see what was available. (Too much spam in hotmail. I was baffled as to why I wrote viagra.com as there was clearly a Re: in the subject line. Those tricky tricky penis enlarging/sexual drive enhancing advertisers.)

I finally figured out one I liked. One that was cute and encompasses everything I am in a simple few words. rainyc. But...this user name is taken. *dun dun dun*

rainy.c is taken. Lorrainey.c is taken. I could do rainyc with a number on the end, but I have always vowed to stay away from that. It feels like selling out somehow. Sure, I could have my own unique email address, but the only thing differing it from the other rainyc's out there would be the number. I am not just another rainyc. I am an original rainyc. Some other unoriginal rainyc's just got to my username first.

I have a plethora of other names I have considered:

twiddlingmythumbs@gmail.com (taken)
eniarrol@gmail.com (Lorraine backwards) (taken)
iwalkintowalls@gmail.com (taken) (also true story)

The only ones I could find that were available were:

sushimakesmegag@gmail.com
overflowfrommyhead@gmail.com
stillneedsabib@gmail.com
iwalkintocoffeetables@gmail.com

Even 'allthegoodnamesaretaken@gmail.com' is taken. It's ridiculous.

Now I know I'm making a big deal of this, I know I should just pick one and stick to it. But it's a big deal for me. So many things are linked through email nowadays. And you have to pick one that is simple, that is age friendly (I don't think my mom would love an email address like hellsyeah@gmail.com) and you're not embarrassed to give out.

And so the search continues. I'm open to suggestions.

Best Friend Conversations

2008-09-19T13:46:00.004-06:00

Having a conversation with Nikki about work using extremely advanced technical IT jargon:

Nikki: You don't need to do a computer account request form, just an equipment move request form. All you need is your asset number on your...box...thingy.

Lorraine: ...you mean your hard drive?

Nikki: ....yes, that.

Lorraine: You DO realize you work in IT, right?

Nikki: Shutup!

Sensitivity

2008-07-30T17:27:00.003-06:00

Nikki: Yeah, that guy was huge.

Dani: Yeah. And his girlfriend was kinda hefty.

Nikki: Dani!! That's not very nice. It's not like she was a cow!

Crazy Edmonton Weather

2008-07-28T16:22:00.007-06:00

Things I have learned about Edmonton weather:

Don't laugh at the "No parking: Snow route" sign when you are parking because the weather has been in the plus twenties lately. Surely, you will wake up to your car buried in two feet of snow the next day. (True story.)
If it's sunny in the morning, there is probably more of a chance that you will get rained on later in the day than if it is rainy in the morning.
'Tornado warning' in Edmonton does not mean a huge F4 or F5 tornado like one in Kansas or Oklahoma is coming. It means 'funnel cloud might touch down in a farmer's field and whip up some corn'.
You CAN play softball an hour after a severe thunderstorm and heavy rain and flooding so bad in one part of the city that it went over the hoods of cars.
If it's raining and thunderstorming in one end of the city, it's probably nice and sunny in the opposite part.
My car can stand up to hail a lot better than I thought it could.
Apparently one time it snowed at least once during every single month of the year here.
The day you don't bring your umbrella to work is the day you will get caught in heavy rain.
It's a very strange feeling to be slipping on ice from large hail stones when it is +20 outside.

Yesterday Nikki and I witnessed a hail storm from her apartment. Here are some pics I took with my cell phone:

Please note the cute neon in the distance, bravely braving the weather.

Hail gathered under a tree.

How big the hailstones were.

Here are some other pictures I have randomly taken around Edmonton with my cell phone of the whacky weather:

Just getting onto the Whitemud from 159th street. My first attempt at tornado chasing.

I love this picture except for my stupid day pass at Elk Island ruining it in the reflection.

For a storm lover such as myself, I have to say...I totally moved to the right city.

Metaphors, milk and mushy. Mmmmm.

2008-07-03T11:59:00.003-06:00

Me: I need to get an oil change.

Nikki: ...is that supposed to be a metaphor?

_________

Lorraine: I want a muffin. And a glass of milk.

Nikki: What are you, five?

Lorraine: What are you, NOT five?

Nikki: What?

Lorraine: It's the best I could come up with on short notice.
________

*Lorraine and Nikki are listening to music on Nikki's ipod in her car*

Lorraine: Did that guy just sing 'I am a mushy!?'

Nikki: NO, he said 'I am a machine'

Lorraine: Ohhhhhhh.

*Machine line is sung again and Nikki starts giggling*

Lorraine: You TOTALLY heard 'I am a mushy' that time didn't you!

Key Calamity

2008-06-25T08:59:00.004-06:00

First of all, I'd like to acknolwedge how crappy it was of me to send a note out to everyone saying "Hey, I'm blogging again, check back often!" and then proceed to not post anything new. I think I kinda scare myself every time I do that. You know. Because that means people might actually be reading this.

I seem to be having bad luck with keys today.

I was so proud of myself for getting up early (by early, I mean on time, which really is early for me). I went to leave the house when I realized, as usual, I had forgotten my car keys downstairs in my room. The weird thing is, they weren't in my room. Or in my purse, which I tore apart, or in my jacket pockets. Or in the tv room. Or on the kitchen counters. Or in the upstairs hallway. (You get the point.) I'm starting to snicker at the irony that the one day I am actually early/on time, I'm going to be late because I can't find my car keys. So I finally give in and grab the spare set, which I don't like because the lock remote doesn't work (I know, spoiled). Halfway to work, I remember; yesterday I had softball and was wearing my rain jacket. Guaranteed they are in that pocket.

I feel a bit better pulling in to work. Until I get up the elevators to the electronically locked door. I hold my purse up to activate my keycard (because I am too lazy to take it out at the time, and it still reads it) but the little red light doesn't turn green. You've gotta be kidding me.

In my search for my car keys, I took my keycard out of my purse because it has little keys attached to it that fool me into thinking it is my car keys. Evidentally, I forgot to put it back in.

Funny how losing one set of keys can cause you to lose another.

I also walked into the corner of the open metal drawer of my desk.

It's 9:00 a.m. Can't WAIT to see how the rest of the day will go.

*AFTER PUBLISHING NOTE: I asked for an extra keycard from our admin. It was when she brought it to me that I realized my keycard was already hooked on my beltloop, and not in my purse. I didn't forget it at home, I forgot I was wearing it!! That's the LAST TIME I'm going to get up early for work!!!!

Absent-Minded

2008-05-27T13:33:00.003-06:00

*Staring blankly at screen*

Today I drove to work. I pulled into the dreaded Impark parking lot that I hate but have no choice to park in and parked beside the machine I have to buy a ticket from. I got out of the car, went to the other side of my car closer to the machine, and proceded to open my gas tank. After staring blankly at it for a few minutes I remembered that hey, there's no gas station here, and hey, I'm trying to pay for parking, not pump gas.

I did something else absent minded today but I can't remember what. HA.

Innovative Car Repairs

2008-04-30T13:57:00.011-06:00

I don't know why it is people keep hitting my car when they are backing out of parking spaces. Is my car invisible? Because it looks silver to me. If I have been driving around with an invisible car, I would hope that someone would have told me by now. The idea that I have had an invisible car this entire time and not taken advantage of it is upsetting to me. I wish Impark personnel couldn't see my car the way these people that keep driving into me don't.

What makes me the most angry is knowing a simple glance in the rear view mirror or side view mirror would quickly indicate to them that yes, there IS indeed a car behind them and maybe, just maybe, they should attempt to avoid hitting it. Who ARE these people that slam on the gas pedal and think "Look out, I'm coming back, if you get hit, it's your fault!" Perhaps they are the same people that ride their bikes into parked cars. By the same logic, would you walk backwards without looking? No...so why would you operate a huge device made of steel worth thousands of dollars with you in it without watching where you are going? WHY!?

The inspiration for this rant came from a recent incident in the Best Buy parking lot. Here I was, driving very slowly, making my way over to an empty parking stall. I see a car backing out to my left. I see the car isn't stopping. I'm too far along to brake and avoid a collision, and cannot accelerate fast enough to get out of the way. So I slam on my horn and hold it down. The car still comes. I look around me trying to think of what other possible signal I can give to indicate "HEY YOU ARE ABOUT TO DRIVE RIGHT INTO ME YOU MORON". After a good three seconds of horn blasting, the car backs into me anyway, crunching my driver's side door. The wonderfully ironic part of the story is that the weather conditions were atrocious as it was the second day of our April blizzard. So one would think that car accidents would be more likely to happen. But this accident had nothing to do with the weather! She didn't slide...she didn't even try to brake. It had to do with stupidity instead.

She gets out of her car all distraught and apologizing. I say it's ok, these things happen, once I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. After all, it could be a lot worse. After going inside her van to get a pen, and me hearing her teenage son in the passenger side say "I TOLD you to stop!" and her replying with a polite screaming "SHUTUP!!!" she advises me she wants to pay for it herself instead of going through insurance. I'm fine with this. But upon consultation of my witness, he says I might be able to just take an ordinary hardware store plunger and pull the dent right out. Apparently this is a secret weapon to many a body shop repair man. The paint isn't scratched at all, and I figure if I can do this, I can save both of us some trouble.

There is no way you can plunger your car without having someone take pictures of it. (Thanks goes out to Nikki. Ma homegirl slice. Word.)

First, I had to try to sterilize the plunger a bit. My car is dirty enough without feces on it. This is me soaping it up and doing my best to avoid touching it. Gross.

This is me doing my very best to get the best suction against the car door as possible.

This is me losing my plunging mojo. As you probably would have guessed, it didn't work.

So...anyone know a good auto body shop in Edmonton?

Spring In Edmonton

2008-04-22T18:45:00.005-06:00

This is a cell phone picture I took from my bus on the way to work on this lovely late-April morning. That is, after I walked to the bus stop, slipped and fell on my hands and knees, froze at the bus stop for 45 minutes waiting for a bus that was, coincidentally, 45 minutes late, and froze at my transfer bus stop for another 20 minutes. Oh, I also had the priveledge of listening to someone's crappy music while snuggled tight against strangers in the bus shelter. What is with those crappy ear phones that come with ipods that make it so that not only the listener but everyone around them has to deal with their poor taste in music? That is, unless my ipod is on. Because we all know how wonderful my taste in music is. *Lorraine hopes anyone who knows that she has a song from the movie Cinderella in her itunes is not reading this.*

Let's all try and ignore the fact that it was 24 degrees out a week and a half ago. Which just happened to be on my birthday. Being as it snowed the next day, logically, the only way to make sense of what happened is to deduct that it was a birthday miracle. And Edmonton weather is spawned by the devil.

Sympathy

2008-04-19T15:01:00.005-06:00

Nikki: "Yeah, I still have a fever and the chills. I feel awful."

Lorraine: "That sucks. The missionaries staying with us this weekend are playing really horrible worship music really loud."

Nikki: "Ohhhhh MAN!! I feel SO bad for you!!!!!"

Hospital Humour

2008-04-18T21:11:00.004-06:00

Yesterday Nikki and I had the pleasant experience of spending essentially the whole day at the hospital. It wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't of been doubling over in pain and I wasn't weathered down with what I had just discovered was strep throat, a nasty sinus infection, and a nose bleed that was on the verge of needing to be cauterized. (Dry Alberta weather + sinus infection = Lorraine thinking she must be hemorrhaging from the brain.) But no, we could not be free to enjoy the multitudes of sick (and strange) people, rude receptionists and doctors, and the maze that is finding radiology. Something was wrong with Nikki, and we had to find out what.

After being guided from hallway to hallway, wrong room to wrong room, we finally found where we were supposed to be only to be told to go to the front of the hospital and go through patient registration. Back through the maze we went and got in line.

There was a sign posted at the front of reception:

MATERNITY VISITING HOURS

Friends and extended family: 4 - 8

Siblings and grandparents: 11 - 9

Father: Anytime

Nikki made a seemingly logical observation: "What about the mother?"

Lorraine: "Well...it's 'maternity' visiting hours, so...I'm pretty sure she'd already be there."

Nikki: "Oh yeah. Ha. I'm an idiot."

No Nikki, you are not. You do, however, have blonde hair...

Text of the Day

2008-04-09T22:49:00.002-06:00

After texting Nikki for awhile while I am on the bus on my way to work, she writes:

"You're sitting on the bus beside a creep while you have a bloody nose...and I'm falling into holes. No wonder we're friends."

For Sale

2008-04-07T11:39:00.003-06:00

One (1) soul.

-rarely used
-excellent condition
-would make lovely shelf display
-can be twisted into a cute balloon animal
-bulletproof
-comes in many different colours; most notably blue, grey, and black.
-free shipping
-no warranty available

Seller would like to sell as soon as possible. $3/obo.

Recap

2008-04-01T22:08:00.005-06:00

SO. Last post on this blog = August 2007 eh. Interesting. I wonder if I had any loyal readers who didn't know me and wondered what happened to me. What interesting explanations would they have come up with? Ran away to join the circus? Went to clown college? Went to clown college THEN ran away to join the circus? (Logically, that would make more sense, no?)

Alas, I am alive and well. However, in the last seven months, I have....*deep breath...*

Packed up my little neon, moved across the country to Edmonton Alberta which was a lovely little adventure in and of itself involving beautiful scenery across Ontario, flat scenery across the prairies, exquisite accommodations such as The Beaver Motel, visited long lost friends along the way, kept track of gas prices across the country and how they sky rocketed the further north in Ontario you go, had a truck driver request me to take a picture of him, saw huge statues of a goose and a sasquatch, and had my GPS tell me to turn into fields once I got into Edmonton.

Since I have been in Edmonton I have....*deep breath*

Spent a month puttering around and annoying the family I rent the basement from 'til I ran out of money and had to get a job which I still hold downtown in the oil industry and quite enjoy, met my awesome best friend Nikki (also my new music guru) and her awesome sister who are my partners in crime both at work and on weekends and essentially let me live at their apartment every weekend, started dating a boy, debated nominating our relationship for the "most miscommunication and worst timing of a relationship of the year" award (which we SO would have won), tried skiing for the first time in years and only fell when trying to get on the ski lift and then at the end of our very last run when I almost collided with the rental shop, tried snowboarding for the first time in Fernie BC and fell a whole lot more, experienced the coldest temperature I have in my life, had my car towed because I never felt like paying for parking, (I HATE YOU IMPARK!), got over my fear of public transit, started writing songs and poetry and playing guitar again, gotten hooked on "It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia" and "Extras", mocked the Calgary Tower for being a miniature CN Tower, become an Oiler's fan, got a free ticket to an Avril Lavigne concert BUT also saw Alexisonfire, went to Yuk Yuk's by myself to see Greg Proops whose autograph is now on my wall AND......found $20 on the bar floor!!!! Meeting someone famous or finding that $20...I really can't decide which is better.

I know you are all now jealous that you don't live in Edmonton too. Unless you do. In which case...you are probably sans said jealousy.

Right now I am going to...*deep breath*

...go to bed.

BUT watch for more updates! The blog wheels are a turnin' in my head! The next post will either be about healing alarm clocks or cheap pregnancy tests! I haven't quite decided yet. But BOY if that isn't incentive to check back, I don't know what is!

Pack Rat: 1) A person who collects, saves, or hoards useless small items. 2) Lorraine

2007-08-16T00:56:00.000-06:00

I should be in bed, but I had to write something about this.

I just spent the last four hours going through my old bedroom. Last summer I moved into my new bedroom next door which is a heck of a lot bigger and therefore a heck of a lot awesomer. (Yes, I said awesomer.) As such, there were many items in my old bedroom that didn't get transferred over, and hadn't been sorted through in years.

Some examples of things I found:

-certificate of acheivement in piano. From when I was FIVE YEARS OLD. That means it's been in there for *counting on fingers* 17 years.
-Treasure trolls. If you felt the urge to go "oh YEAH I remember those things" when reading that, it will give you an indication of how ridiculously old they are.
-The price tag from my grade 8 graduation dress. Yeah, I don't know either.
-A grade 2 illustration of different types of spiders. Apparently there is one called The Lazy Cowboy or something of that sort. I think our teacher made it up as a joke to play on us, cause really, it just sounds like an unsatisfying sexual position to me. What?
-Newsletters from ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. Why...why??
-An ultrasound. Of me. Dated November 1984. In a bag with tonnes of congrats on the new baby cards. Apparently my mom is just as much of a pack rat as I am. Although I suppose those things are more sentimental. Why she kept them in my closet all these years? I have NO idea. She likes to put things in "safe spots" and then forget where they are.
-A hospital bracelet from when I was admitted for my back years ago. (I couldn't even lie down without screaming in pain). I also found in that bag with the baby cards my mom's hospital bracelet from when she had me. It was a nice "Aw, mother and daughter both save hospital bracelets" moment.

...and there are many MANY more strange things like this that I found and have no idea why I kept.

The good thing is I've been able to detach myself a lot more from things like that so I don't feel bad throwing most of them out. After all, what am I going to do with my grade 6 school year agenda? Remember how I had a spelling test on a Thursday? Oh the memories...

Happy 100 Posts To Me

2007-08-11T21:27:00.000-06:00

It's been awhile since I've written on here my friends. My co-workers. Random people I don't know that apparently read this. Assuming anybody reads it anymore? This I do not know. I do know that I just noticed I spelled "co-workers" as "cow-workers"; not a very flattering term to my workmates. However, you wouldn't have known about this error since I already corrected it. (You went back to check didn't you...didn't you!) You see, that's the power of being the blog author. I know more about what is being written than you. I am omniscient. (Except I couldn't remember how to spell 'omniscient'. The online spell checker is omniscient in that regard). I also possess supreme editing power. Editing power that I exercise to it's fullest extent. What am I talking about you say? I'm not sure, I'm a bit out of sorts...you see, it's been a while since I've written on here.

HOWEVER.

Looking at my little summary page before I go into my blog, it tells me this blog has 99 posts. Which, if my math skills are correct - and I hope they are since I worked for so long in accounting, but I wouldn't be surprised if that's why the company is now going bankrupt - then that makes THIS my 100th post! Yaaaaay!

100 posts is really like any other post, I gotta say. Perhaps with some more wine or champagne or jello shooters, whatever you prefer. We have it all on this blog. And as much as I would love to celebrate...it's nothing REALLY momentous. What makes 100 so different from 99? I'll tell you the difference: 1. (Math skills again). However, that is THE very same difference as 99 to 98. So why not celebrate 99 as much as we celebrate 100? What is it about triple digits that deserves celebration? "I don't know Lorraine, you are the one having this whole celebration thing" you say? Ah. Well. Touche. (with the accent that I don't know how to do.)

I DID actually have a topic for this post before I noticed that it would be my hundredth post. It was a conversation that occurred today over our delicious all day breakfast at The Sunset Grill in Toronto in reference to a scene from The Simpsons movie.

Me (singing) "Spider pig, spider pig...does whatever a spider pig can...can he swing...from a vine...no he can't, he's a pig."

Laura: "From a vine?? He swings from a web! Why would he swing from a vine?!"

Me: "...I think I was thinking of Tarzan. SHUT UP I'M HUNGOVER!"

Maybe you had to be there...and if you were Laura or Vic or Sandra or Ken or myself, you would have been. But you're not. So. Too bad for you. Way to not be us. Loser.

Spider pig...spider pig...

Negative Parking Meters

2007-06-19T08:09:00.000-06:00

The other day a friend and I headed out to get some food at The Snooty Fox. (I almost wrote Snotty Fox...I'd imagine the restaurant would have significantly less appeal if that were it's name...) We parked, put money in the meter and headed inside. After a yummy breakfast complete with potato catapulting contests (actually it was just me launching them at him,) we came back outside to find our parking meter expired. The weird thing is it wasn't just expired, it was actually showing a negative amount of time by six minutes. In light of this occurrence, I must ask the following series of questions:

Since when do parking meters actually start counting the time that's passed since the meter expired?? Am I really that behind on my parking meter technology?
How does it get reset? Does it monitor the weight of the car on the parking spot so it knows when one leaves or pulls in, like a drive through?
Is this REALLY how we are using our advances in technology?? Parking meters?? Who the hell is out there devoting their life to developing more technologically advanced parking meters? "I used my university degree to develop a better hearing aid for the hearing impaired." "I used MY university degree to develop a more efficient device for diabetics to keep track of their blood sugar." "...I used MY university degree to make parking meters count backwards."

Kudos municipal government. If you're going to start charging for expired time, I'm going to request a refund for the remaining time on the meter the next time I leave before it's expired.

Office Smack Talk

2007-05-17T18:07:00.000-06:00

I recently got Laura, one of my best friends, a job at my work. Which means the days are a little less boring. And by a little, I mean a lot. We like to spice things up by emailing each other quotes from The Office throughout the day and making hap hazard paper airplanes to throw at each other when no one's looking.

So, in our comfy little accounting department, we have these two stamps, one to fill info out to enter an invoice and one to fill out info for paying an invoice. Today after some of Laura's usual smack talk, I menacingly held up the stamps to her and said:

"I will TOTALLY enter you and pay you."

"Lorraine...think about what you just said."

*pause*

"...OH MY GAWD!!!!!"

Toronto, Kyle Wellwood, Sushi, Shoplifting, and Darrin Pfieffer. Good Weekend.

2007-05-13T15:51:00.000-06:00

This past Thursday night, at approximately 9:38 pm, an insatiable urge to have a night out in Toronto hit me, and hit hard. So I called up my Toronto friend who lives right downtown and asked what he was doing the next night. I soon figured out he was at the pub due to how long it took him to put words together. But he assured me he wasn't drunk and we finally concluded that I would visit and we'd go out and do something. Friday night I called again to confirm and he said "I wasn't sure if I'd dreamt that conversation or not." Never make plans with a drunk person. Although the view from his condo is enough reason to forgive him:

Before I drove to Toronto, I stopped by to see Laura who was home sick in bed. She was supposed to have a roller derby bout the next day (also her birthday) but her doctor thought she had mono, so she couldn't play. Well, she could, but not without the risk of rupturing her spleen. Spleens are unpleasant enough when they are intact. Also, Kyle Wellwood, her all time favourite Maple Leafs player (who she is also in love with) was supposed to be signing autographs at the new Future Shop in Erin Mills the same day. While she was lying down, I snuck into her closet and stole her Wellwood jersey, and two pictures she had of him. Thankfully she didn't notice. The next day I got them signed and took a video clip of him wishing her a happy birthday/hoping she feels better. I burned it on a cd for her, along with some pictures I took of him. Here is the video of Wellwood: (please note his enthusiasm)

http://www.motionbox.com/video/player/359cd9b1181dbe

Now here is the video of Laura opening my present, which I enjoy much more than the previous video. I missed the part where she first figured out what I had done but got most of the surprise in:

http://www.motionbox.com/video/player/359fd7bd1a1ebe

Other notable parts of my weekend:

Tried sushi for the first time and gagged. Although I do like sakki
I accidentally stole a camera lens cleaner pen from Future Shop. But I felt so bad that I had mindlessly walked out of the store with it that I went back in and paid for it, after a good five minute internal moral debate
Two words: Home Movies.
Apparently Darrin Pfeiffer from Goldfinger thinks I'm hot. GREATEST COMPLIMENT EVER. Although I think he might need glasses...
Dawn is working at 102.1 the Edge and I am JEALOUS. But it was awesome seeing her again. But I am JEALOUS.

The Awesomeness That Is LA and Coachella

2007-05-04T00:13:00.000-06:00

I think I'll move to California. I meant to bring it home with me in my suitcase, but it just wouldn't fit, no matter how much I sat on the top and yanked on the zipper. Plus, try sneaking that through customs.

Highlights Of My Trip:
-Meeting cool friendly people from all over the world who I thoroughly plan on staying in touch with
-Rage Against the mother f'n Machine
-Seeing multiple awesome bands every day (Do I use the word awesome too much??)
-Going in the pit at Rage. Until I got elbowed in the chest and had the wind knocked out of me. I like being able to breathe.
-Making fun of some dragon movie they showed on my flight to LA
-Not getting mugged/murdered/raped when trying to find my hotel in LA
-Driving down the interstate on a beautiful warm sunny day in a mustang convertible with palm trees lining the side of the freeway
-Driving into a parked car four hours before my flight home while going on three hours of sleep in two days and after I had driven it all over LA, Hollywood, on the Interstate and to Coachella which is a few hours out of the city. I felt like the universe was laughing at me, but I couldn't help laughing too. After a few choice words, that is. Thank God I bought the insurance
-Regina Spector: my new female musical icon
-Staying up all night partying with people from all over the world
-Having some guy steal my malibu rum as compensation for not being able to get into my pants. He was wearing a striped shirt that made him look like Waldo. I found it funny that I was playing a real life Where's Waldo when looking for him the next day to kick him in the shin
-The girl camp official person who was sent to "disperse" us saying "it's funny that they don't know I'm on shrooms" and then joining us
-When telling people I'm from Canada hearing them say "there are SO many Canadians here!" We took over the place, along with the Aussies and British
-Finding "I love my pony" with an obscene drawing written in dirt on the back window of my car when we went to leave Coachella
-Blatantly passing our alcohol over the fence into the campgrounds and not getting caught
-Having my tequila confiscated on the way in to the festival
-Having the son of the hotel owner offer to fly me down to LA whenever I want....? Also finding out he collects tractors. It's different, I'll give him that.
-Picking up an English accent from Johny and his friend James (although apparently it was a southern one and they have a northern one...?)
-Napping on the grass in the cool tent while listening to good music fill the air
-Singing Sublime songs in a circle of strangers with a guitar until the early hours of the morning
-Seeing police in riot gear
-Apparently a chopper told people to disperse or they'll be arrested when they formed a drum circle
-Dancing with some blonde guy from London. Having him make fun of me for asking London Ontario or London England
-Squirt bottles in the "will call" line with Aussies. Also playing Uno with them while waiting
-Chillin' at the pad of our new friends from LA which looked like it was from a movie. It was so LA. I can say that 'cause I've been there now.
-Getting lost amidst some really really nice houses while looking for the f'n Hollywood sign
-Johny getting soaked by some waves when climbing the rocks at Venice Beach
-Always being able to find my tent by looking for the big tent with the pirate flag next to our site

There was more but those are the moments off the top of my head. Right now it's competing with my trip to England/Scotland for being the best trip of my life. Possibly the best experience of my life. Johny was right when he said festival people are the coolest people you will ever meet. And who knew camping would be half the fun of the festival?

I have tones of awesome pictures and video clips but you'll have to look at them on Facebook since I'm too lazy to upload them here. www.facebook.com and look for Lorraine Conley. I should be the only one. I got some great shots, so take a look.

Already planning Coachella reunion 2008.

Coachella, Here I Come

2007-04-25T10:05:00.000-06:00

I leave in 8 hours.

I'm scared but excited. Last night I was terrified...there was so much that still needed to be done and arranged. Most of it has been sorted out, but I still can't shake the thought that this is crazy. I've never planned a trip of this magnitude on such short notice, and I also tend to excessively worry about things that could go wrong. But when I look at the coachella website and see pictures of all the campers and look at the message board and see how excited everyone else is and how fun (rather than scary) everything looks, my worries really significantly melt away. And I'm going to meet so many people...including famous people. Thank you Johny and backstage passes. I hope I manage to squeak out something that resembles English and not consisting of "uhhhamm...Hiiiii, yeeeaahhh....I think you're, erm.....uh.....GREAT........totally. Sooo.....I me you famous n'....wha ummm....shnu???"

Maybe I'll just stay down in California, away from offices and paperwork and the shittyness that I've been feeling lately. It's doing things like this that really make me feel like I am living life and not just idly watching it pass me by.

Final thoughts:

-Is three sets of rechargeable batteries for my camera enough?
-Can they see alcohol bottles through x rays in checked baggage?
-I really like my new hair. Unrelated, but still relevant.
-I hope I don't get mugged/beat up/hurt/murdered
-This is going to be awesome

I'M GOING TO CALIFORNIA (gonna live the life...sippin' on tequila night after night...)

2007-04-11T12:57:00.000-06:00

Sorry about the gay boy band lyric title. But I've had that song stuck in my head ever since I found out that...well...there's an excellent chance I am going to California. In just under two weeks! You see, there is this little music festival there...I'm not sure if you've heard of it...it's called...COACHELLA!!!!!

I couldn't possibly think of a better birthday present. *cough*This FRIDAY APRIL THE 13th*cough* Rage Against the Machine will be reunited...and I will be there to bask in said reunion. Not to mention the Chili Peppers! They're going to be Red Hot.

To add more randomness to this spontaneous trip, I'm flying down by myself and meeting my friend from England and his friend there. (In a little place called Palm Springs.) Johny English, as I lovingly refer to him, got me a ticket AND since he is related to the guitarist in the Arctic Monkeys, we also have backstage passes!! BACKSTAGE PASSES!!! I've never had backstage passes to anything in my life, besides like, talent shows I've been in. And even then we didn't have backstage passes...or talent for that matter.

Everybody seems to know somebody who is going to this festival. When I told my cousin Rob, he informs me that his friend gets to INTERVIEW Rage Against The Machine and have a photoshoot with them for The Toronto Sun. I told him to hook me up with her. I mean, not sexually. Although I would if it got me in to meet Rage.

So nothing is set for sure yet...I still have to confirm time off work and make sure flights are ok. But I just keep thinking to myself...I am young once, and there is no good reason why I SHOULDN'T go to this. Life is too short to make excuses not to do something amazing. And I'm pretty much at the point where I would say "Uh...you can either give me the time off work or I'm taking the time off work...either way I am going." I'm sorry, I just cannot turn this down.

The only hard thing will be not eating between now and when I leave so that people won't shriek in shock and disgust when they see me in a bikini. Although I've lost a good chunk of weight in the last month or two, I'm still not bikini ready. I am, however, beach and palm trees and good music ready. Goodbye unexpected April snowstorms!

Spring Cleaning

2007-04-05T21:35:00.000-06:00

You know it's time to clean your room when...

your mom starts taping signs that say "danger - enter at your own risk" on your door
the pile of clothes on the ground is so high it's become an extension of your bed
you have run out of clothes from your closet and just pick something out from the floor to get dressed. You also start losing track of what is clean and what needs to go in the hamper all of four feet away.
you notice the Christmas gift on your bookshelf that you have still forgotten to give to your friend
your mom always has to close your door so she doesn't see the mess and have a nervous breakdown
you have to beat away objects and make a path to your door like an explorer with a machete traveling through the jungle
there are too many towels on the ground and in the dark you can't distinguish them from your terrycloth house coat
you realize that there have been three empty water bottles sitting on your shelf for the past six months and you have no idea why you kept them
you forget the colour of your carpet
you use the shelves of your closet to hang your clothes on because you are too lazy to hang them on the rack
you've gained more than three bruises by tripping over things in the dark
it takes any amount of force to open your bedroom door
you start finding receipts from 2005
clothes and various objects have overflowed into the hallway
when you go to sleep, you worry about not waking up...because a stack of something could fall on you
you wonder how many years of your life you will uncover the closer you get to the floor of your room
you lose one little thing and you know the only way you are going to find it is by cleaning your entire room and finding it in the last place you get to

Quote-tastic

2007-03-31T15:00:00.000-06:00

A compilation of some recent quotes from silly friends:

__________
On msn:

Me: So yeah, we broke up.
Darcy: *pause* Have you ever thought about what it would be like to not have lips?
__________

At the hilarious university play my friend directed:

*actress says her line and everybody laughs, including my friend who I am sitting next to.*

Me: What did she say?
Paul: I dunno, but it was funny anyway.
__________

Progressive Conversations:

Me: I hate people that shovel the snow onto the street.
Dave: I hate people that SHOVEL.
Me: I hate people.

Dave S: If you can't see, I'll angle my chair.
Me: I'll angle YOUR FACE.
Laura: I'll MANGLE your face.
Shawn: I like mangos.
__________

Me: *sees Paul blow onto his hands* Are your hands cold?
Paul: Nope.
Me: I just saw you blow on them.
Paul: I'm just MAINTAINING their heat.
*Lorraine and Dave exchange smiles*
__________

Me: My body is all messed up, it thinks it's time to be awake now at 3am.
Laura: My body is saying "Go to bed you idiot."
__________

Me: I think we lost the maturity when I said the term "opposite sex" and Dave said "hehe, SEX."
Laura: Then I said "hehe, OPPOSITE."
__________

Laura: Wait, so you CAN'T see her right now? That's CRAZY how mirrors work!
__________

For more retarded quotes, click here. It's my old old website pre-html when I was in like, grade 10 . Haven't changed it in years, but I love the quotes on it.

Until next time...keep fit and have fun. *cue body break music*

Mature and Responsible Lorraine

2007-03-28T20:02:00.000-06:00

Sunday afternoon I did something very mature and responsible. Stop laughing...it is possible for me to be both mature AND responsible. Ok maybe not simultaneously. I mean, let's not get carried away here. I'm still mastering the walking and chewing gum thing too. But I have seem to have mastered the driving with your knee while putting on your mascara thing. Hmm, I must be a selective multi-tasker.

Although my task in and of itself was mature and responsible, (filing my income tax), naturally one of them had to give. In this case it was the responsible thing. I don't know how, but I somehow dinked around on the internet looking up various items on ebay from when I woke up around 1 (my one day this week that I could sleep past 7) until 3:30, completely forgetting I needed time to get ready for my 4:00 appointment. I raced downstairs, poured some cereal, ate it on the way up the stairs and jumped in the shower. (I was tempted to bring the cereal IN the shower but foresaw some problems. Such as soggy cereal.) Yes, I should have skipped the shower, but I just couldn't bring myself to. Besides, in my mind I can be lightning fast when I want to be.

I wasn't lightning fast (darn you hard-to-beat lightning) and soon found myself standing in my room half dressed and with wet hair at 3:55 pm. I couldn't go with wet hair...I'd get sick. OR half dressed...they'd get sick. So on went the clothes and the hair dryer.

Then I had my wave of brilliance...I could HALF the time it takes to dry my hair by using TWO hair dryers at once. On went my spare hair dryer.

For a few minutes everything was great. Then both dryers went dead along with any other electricity fed appliance in my room.

"Oh, nice timing! THIS SUCKS! *Lorraine growl*"
"What sucks?" -Mom
"The power is out."
"No it's not..."-Mom
"Yes it is.......?"

Sure enough it was just the power in my room and the room next to me that I had shorted out the power on. The universe punishing me for irresponsibility I guess. Stupid universe.

When I arrived at 4:15 I apologized profusely for being late. I told them how punctuality is not my forte and that they subsequently shouldn't be surprised I had last year's taxes AND the year before to calculate. One day...one day I will learn. One day when they invent clocks and watches that smack you in the head when it's time for you to do something.

You can't lose something you never had...such as my mind

2007-03-22T20:00:00.000-06:00

It's been seven years.

I started working there the summer before high school and worked every subsequent summer.

Six months out of high school I was hired full time and stayed for a year and a half.

Now I'm back working there for a few months.

During my first summer there, I was too terrified and shy to eat with the "adults" and would eat my lunch huddled away in a corner of my dad's office. But I quickly made friends with them and started eating in the kitchen.

The cupboard containing the glasses and mugs is right next to the cupboard containing the plates and bowls.

It's been seven years.

And when I need one of these items...

...I STILL go to the opposite cupboard to retrieve it.

Every time.

Antonio Wants Some Pringles

2007-03-14T18:53:00.000-06:00

I admit it, in the past I have met people off of the internet. But before I ever met anyone in person, I would talk to people who lived far away and just chat over the internet or phone if I felt comfortable.

Antonio is one of these people.

When I first "met" him about five years ago, he was living in New Jersey and part of a band that was on the edge of making it big. I still have their CD. They traveled around the country in a school bus that he owns, but scratched off certain letters to make it say "Cool Bus" instead. He's a bit older than me, but a big kid at heart. And he knows WAY too many people. And he cracks me up.

Today I got to catch up with him for the first time in two years, and it's always like no time has gone by since we chatted. He still lives in New Jersey, but quit the band to pursue his own stuff. Now he works for the company that distributes Pringles doing audio editing, and is soon to be the star of a television commercial. He sent them this video which they recently decided to air as an official commercial during American Idol.

(The embed version isn't working for some reason, so you'll have to click on this link to view his ridiculous pringles commercial. It's worthwhile, trust me.)

http://www.jinglesforpringles.com/jingle/8/

Whether we will see it in Canada or not, I do not know. But watching it here is more than enough for me! Oh Antonio, you silly monkey you. What will you be doing in another two years??

It's Tradition

2007-03-14T18:14:00.001-06:00

I've taken vocal lessons since grade 7.

I originally started them to better ensure my chances at getting the part of Dorothy in our school production of The Wizard of Oz. Oddly enough, the girl who was first cast sang too loud and completely off key. This led me to question my music teacher's ear for music, and made me wonder if I was wasting my money on training that she wouldn't notice anyway.

But I ended up really enjoying the lessons and decided to continue with them after the play. (Where I starred as one of three Dorothys. Don't ask.)

It's now been *counts on fingers* well, lots of years since.

For the past four years or so, I have had my own car and been able to drive myself to said lessons.

Each year, my teacher will make a note in my book or tell me that I have no lesson the following week due to March Break. And every year that she was told me this, I will forget, drive all the way down there, and remember while standing on her front porch.

Yesterday marked the fourth anniversary of this tradition.

Friday Night Frivolity

2007-03-10T00:06:00.004-07:00

Cambridge is only good for three things, as far as I can tell: A) My best friend Diana lives there B) Dooley's C) It is home to one of the few remaining roller rinks that seem to be quickly disappearing. (RIP Roller Gardens...we miss you.)

The plan tonight was to participate in all great three things Cambridge has to offer. Unfortunately we were only able to participate in two. Dooley's, I know your feelings are hurt, but we WILL visit next time. Yes...there will be a next time.

We met Diana at a pub (we = Laura and her new boy, Dave and Paul and myself of course) where it didn't take me long to tell Diana's fellow midwife how Laura used to mix up 'labia' and 'tibia'. Someone would kick her in the shin and she'd go "OWWWW, MY LABIA...." Laura corrected me and said it was actually the other way around...someone would kick her in the crotch and she'd say "OWWWW MY TIBIA...." I think it's equally funny either way.

Actually, Laura had a few good quotes from tonight. Must have been trying to impress her new guy:

"C'MON GUYS, we're only going to have TWO HOURS left to skate!"
"I like green tea. It has antibodies." -Laura
"...you mean antioxidants?" -Me
"...........yes. Those." -Laura

Roller skating is a scary business for me...there are always those annoying people that try to squeeze in through some tiny space between you and the person next to you and give you a heart attack. There are also these crazy old people there that are remarkable skaters. One almost killed me when I was moving to the side to see Dave and Paul. While singing The Spice Girls. Yeah, it was retro night...which pretty much translates into guilty pleasure music. Rock on.

My favourite part of the night was when we were driving home. Dave and I somehow decided to start answering every question with true or false. Then it expanded to countries. Personally, I just want to answer "penguins" to every question someone poses to me. Examples:

"How are you feeling today?" "False."
"What are you having for dinner tonight?" "Algeria."
"Where did you get your sweater?" "Penguins."

Just a heads up: these answers will be used. And whether you think they are funny or not, I will be laughing at them.

Personal Office Statistics

2007-03-06T13:36:00.000-07:00

I'm 95% sure that the cup I am drinking my tea out of was mistakenly placed back in the cupboard as clean when it was, in fact, dirty.

I'm also 84% sure that I will ignore this fact, push any thoughts of germs out of my mind, and will drink the rest of it anyway rather than forward the phones, trudge back upstairs, go to the opposite side of the building where the kitchen is and pour myself a new cup.

I'm 68% sure that these statistics will gross at least one of you out.

I'm 52.73% sure that I don't really care if this grosses you out.

I'm 100% sure that I will blog about this.

Next Time I'm Going To Wear Goggles

2007-03-05T07:54:00.000-07:00

Saturday night I headed over to Diana's for Dave's birthday dinner before we went to see Sandra's play and then drinks at Hess. I had just taken my coat off when Diana's mom - a very sweet woman who often greets me with a hug - came up to me with her hand out. Not knowing what to do I turned my head to avoid a collision, providing the perfect angle for her thumbnail to gauge my right eyeball.

"OWWWWW...."

"I'm so sorry, I was trying to grab you for a hug!"

"Oh it's ok, it's not like I use that eye anyway."

"What a nice first greeting eh? Oh no, I was working with food too..."

"Yeah, did make sure to rub some garlic under your fingernails first?"

"Yes, some red pepper too."

"Well, it's good to see you anyway. With my ONE EYE."

Expanding The Family Empire

2007-03-02T10:34:00.001-07:00

It's March 2, and I can finally tell the world a secret that I have been holding in for WAY too long.

Now don't get your panties in a twist, the baby the cartoon stork is holding is NOT mine. I'm still keeping THAT baby a secret. Ok kidding. Seriously, kidding.

However, I am about five months away from becoming an aunt for the first time! Ok so most of you will already know that. But did you know that I will be an aunt to...*drumroll*...a baby girl! OR, as my brother says, a very unfortunate boy. Her name will be Abigail (not sure how they are going to spell it) or Abby for short, and she will, I have no doubt, be completely spectacular.

I should clarify that Abby doesn't belong to Darren and Larissa who I often blog about, but my other brother and his wife who, due to the nature of their jobs, cannot be named. No they don't work for the CIA you silly monkey. That's completely absurd. What a typical "I can't name my job" guess of employment. Can't you be a little more creative in your blog posts?? I mean, employment guessing?

I can't convey how excited I am to be an aunt, I have been bugging them about it the entire 9 years they have been married. On the day I found out (way back in November) I was by myself at a gas station in Waterloo, just about to fill my tire up with air when my cell phone rang. "Lorraine, you are the fourth person to know that our test was positive." And then I couldn't stop crying because I was so happy and excited. I think it was my first experience with tears of joy. But I couldn't help thinking how everyone at the gas station would see me crying and think "that girl is completely overreacting to a flat tire."

So, world, prepare yourself for Abby. I will probably spoil her and be incredibly overprotective of her, but hey, what are aunts for? I leave you with my favourite baby quote:

"I thought we weren't going to emotionally scar him until he was older?" -Dr. Cox
"I MAY have painted his toes for funnsies..." - Jordan

-Scrubs

Sharing With Family

2007-02-27T11:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes my brother Darren and his wife Larissa will stay at our house when they are visiting in town. If I'm not home, they'll stay in my room. Such was the case the weekend I got home from Victoria. They picked me up from the airport and we all went home where my dad was throwing a birthday party for my mom and had invited lots of friends and family. (I stopped to pick up flowers for her, but they had no birthday cards to go with the flowers, so I got her a "with deepest sympathy" card instead.) After mingling for awhile, Darren, Larissa and I eventually ended up watching DVDs in my room, as is usually the case when avoiding excess people downstairs. As I started to unpack, Larissa said to me

"Oh by the way, I borrowed your deodorant while you were
gone."

"Oh. That's ok. You know, a lot of people have issues with
that but it doesn't bother me. I'm pretty sure you don't have rampant body odor or anything."

"Yeah, I didn't think you would care. If I thought you
would, I just wouldn't have told you."

Gotta love family honesty.

Random Excerpts From My Diary During My Trip To Victoria

2007-02-25T21:05:00.000-07:00

Holy crap, this pen is very glidey-like. Weeeeee...
I'm going to try to write really neat. Actually that was me trying right there. And it's just as messy as my fast normal writing! Ridiculous.
I watched The Office and Scrubs and The Simpsons on the plane. Satellite TV: God's gift to planes. And us.
A moment from The Office: How to take off a bra according to Michael Scott: Twist until something breaks
I keep meaning to write this and I kept forgetting: Ahem. 'Remarkably, there was an incredible lack of snakes on my plane.' I'm glad I finally got that out.
Steve dragged himself out of bed for me so we could go swimming, even though he was tired and forgot his bathing suit. We had to invest in a disposable one. Who ever heard of disposable bathing suits!? He was very reluctant to get into the blue plasticy contraption, but he did. It wasn't long before the outer layer of the ass split, revealing some nice hidden white plastic. Thankfully we were the only people at the pool.
Yup...I fly all the way here and now a predicted massive earthquake is going to ruin my vacation. If I was going to die out here, I thought it would at least be in a firey plane crash, or in the trunk of a car with my limbs bound in duct tape. Not by earthquake! I think it would be the understatement of the year to say that would really really REALLY suck.
No earthquake yet. Except the tremors that vibrate through the ground when I walk because of the weight gain due to eating bacon and eggs every day.
He put me on the radio. I was very excited. Then I got tired. The end.
Favourite things we yelled out/commented during WWE Smackdown:

Give him the chair!
Have you tried talking this out?
I like your pants
Go back to Maine!
I admire your passion!
They should throw some alligators in the ring. Hungry ones. That have been poked with a stick all day.
It almost looked like he made contact there.
I wonder if Hallmark has a line of WWE cards? "I'm sorry I knocked you unconscious with the chair."
Allen wanted me to bring a sign that said "kill the ref"

"Honey, if you keep listening to this song, I'm going to start having an erection...around men." -Steve while I was listening to a Lifehouse song
Watched the sunrise from my first flight in a semi-conscious state. Just before it broke over the horizon it illuminated a golden lining on top of the clouds. It was gorgeous. Then I closed the horrible bright morning light out and tried to sleep.
I can't believe they made me check my make up bag. What, 'cause I might stab someone with my eyeliner?!?
Is it weird that I like turbulence? It shakes things up...HA...*cough*
"Can I ask you something?" "As long as it requires no thought whatsoever." "It's very serious...would you...eat...a blue canteloupe?" "Does it taste like normal cantaloupe or blue canteloupe?" "Blue. And you're starving." "Yes...yes I would."
The remainder of this entry will be random thoughts. (Moreso.)
"Andrea and Alan fed me." "Oh yeah? What did you have?" "A huge waffle...AND..." "...chicken?" "What? How did you know?? 'Waffle' is not usually paired with 'chicken'." "It's my mind reading abilities. And I talked to them earlier."
I kinda want to spit out the window from way up here. (Altitude 37, 338 feet)
We just flew over Lake Superior. Watery.
"How long does 18 km take?" "Well, if you go 100 km/h, 18 minutes. No wait, that's not right. Let me get my calculator. 100/18=5.5 Ok. It's not five minutes." *a few minutes pass* "So what was the highlight of your trip?" "60!!" "What?" "60/18. Equals 3.3 Ok. I really have no idea."
Solution for having to pee? Drink more water. IDIOT.
Geez, what is this, Star Wars? Are we dodging enemy fire?? (turbulence on plane)
This concludes Lorraine's trip to Victoria. This time. To be continued...(?) (The question mark leaves it wide open for a sequel!)
"Goodbye Save on Foods Arena...goodbye Frank's Hardware...goodbye street I don't know the name of that we never drove or walked down..." -Me "This is going to be a long drive to the airport, isn't it?" -Steve

Family Dinner Conversation

2007-02-22T21:47:00.000-07:00

Me: "So the doctor called me on my cell at like eight o'clock one morning, which I thought was weird because I don't remember giving them my cell phone number. Anyways, turns out my pap test came back and I have some abnormal cell growth."

Dad: "How did they get your cell?"

Me: "...uh...they took a swab...?"

*laughter around the table*

Me: "What?"

Dad: "Your CELL PHONE."

Me: "OH I thought you asked how they got the CELLS...I was like...'uh...manually?'"

Darren (talking as if he were me): " 'You wouldn't believe where I keep my cell phone' "

Chris (also talking as if he were me): " 'Yeah, my number is REALLY unlisted.' "

Our Top Story: 'Easy' Buttons Not So Easy

2007-02-19T21:35:00.000-07:00

For Christmas, along with many other goofy presents, Sue bought me one of those "easy" buttons from Staples Business Depot. I found it yesterday and decided to take it out of the little gift box and find a place for it.

Ironically, those easy buttons are remarkably hard to remove from their box. When I finally managed to pull the damn thing out, I pulled it with such force that it shot out of my hand and landed on the floor, where it promptly told me "THAT was easy."

Mocked by an easy button...a new low.

Pack Rat Hall of Fame: Summer Hats

2007-01-14T15:54:00.000-07:00

Apparently my family has skeletons in the closet. Except they come in the form of an incredible amount of summer hats. A few days ago I was cleaning out my old shoes from the front hall closet. Those who know me well know that once I start cleaning, I can't stop; so on I went to discover hoods belonging to jackets we have already gotten rid of, hot gloves with fur around them, and a box of water bottles including a Flinstones one from Canada's Wonderland. Soon I was onto the mystery boxes on the top shelf. What did I find in the box my mother labeled in permanent marker "Female Summer Hats: HOT! HOT! HOT!"? Not just female hats...but a multitude of male and female summer hats, some so old that if there were a museum for summer hats they would be surrounded by glass and signs that say "please do not use flash photography". How many hats did I discover total? 52. Do we wear any of these? No...no we don't. Why do we have so many hats? I HAVE NO IDEA.

Top Ten Hats
In order from best to worst (worst to best?)

10) A bright fuscia hat with "Lorraine" written on in fabric paint. Unfortunately I don't have a picture of this since I threw it out the second I saw it.

9) Purple and pink plastic visors WITH foam glued on for extra comfort

8) Ancient (and I do mean ancient) Walt Disney World hat, modeled by our very own hallway statue, Caesar. (He is also wearing Darren's old tie from when he worked at Carmen's when he was 12)

7) Speaking of Darren's professions, here we have two lovely hats from Darren's former places of employment; Kentucky Fried Chicken (from when he was a teenager) and Utility Reading A. Billing Ltd. (from a few years ago).

6) Not one...but TWO Doug Conley hats. I'm guessing this was from the political campaigning days.

5) Softball hats from every single year I played softball (consecutive years since I was about 8)

4) Esso "No Trouble" Hats. Three of them. Clearly we are very supportive of our gas stations.

3) My mom's old Revlon make up hat. *shudder*

2) My old pink shiny hat that Darren and Larissa were nice enough to model for me. When I was little (like, 7. Ok 10. 15. Move on) this hat had everything I ever wanted: ie it was pink and shiny. Before giving this away, I made sure to black out in permanent marker my name and phone number which was written on the inside. I don't want any phone calls from shoppers at Value Village asking me "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?"

1) Last but CERTAINLY not least: Rainbow coloured tie dye Caribbean Chicken. 'Nuff said.

At long last, us Conleys have finally come out of the closet. We have nothing to be ashamed of anymore. Some poor fashion-blind person at Value Village will inherit that shame instead. To them, all I can say is: I'm sorry.

The Geekiness is Hereditary

2007-01-08T15:21:00.000-07:00

Spending time with my brother Darren and his lovely wife Larissa at their apartment is always a fun experience. Between him nuzzling her and me gagging at his unabashed display of affection, we also find time to play some form of card/board game and watch a movie. In between THESE moments is usually when Darren sneaks off to the computer to play one of his nerd games. This time it was Zelda. Getting him away from his games is comparable to pulling a dog on a leash away from that one spot he just HAS to sniff and thoroughly investigate in the grass. Yes, it's darn near impossible, except Darren is a lot better at negotiating extra time. This - along with the usual banter of every day married life (making food, doing dishes, laundry) - makes for some interesting and often geeky conversation around their household. During my stay there this past Friday and Saturday, I diligently compiled the following quotes:

"Darren come eat." -Larissa

"Just let me get a fairy!" - Darren

"If you were anybody BUT my brother, I would CALL you a fairy right now." -Me
________________________

"Darren why are you so complicated!? Just give me your pants!" -Larissa arguing with Darren about whether his jeans should be washed or not. Much funnier out of context.
________________________

"There's just this one part I have to do right here! There's a big gigantic fire do hickey!" -Darren
________________________

"Everyone thinks she's this delicate flower, but really she's the kind of flower that BITES you!" -Darren
________________________

"My first cloister! Oh wait, I said that last time, didn't I?" -Larissa playing Carcassone
________________________

"Darren, pause your game." -Larissa

"Ok, I just have to...ARGHHH!" -Darren getting beaten in his game
________________________

Yes, we are a family of geeks, but we are not ashamed to admit it. Our movie choice for this visit was Ham and Cheese at my insistence, and games of choice were Five Crowns and Carcassone, WHICH, in our defense, the actress who plays Pam from The Office is addicted to as well! If a famous celebrity loves it too, you can't be all THAT uncool playing it. That's my reasoning and I'm sticking with it. I heartily look forward to my next visit.

Tubing With You

2007-01-03T03:37:00.000-07:00

I've never done the posting of video clips on my blog before. Mainly 'cause I was too lazy to figure out how. UNTIL TONIGHT. Turns out I knew how to all along. I always suspected I was right. Anywho, here's some of my favourite youtube clips! And there are many more where these came from. (I know you're excited...so am I!)

Whose Line Is It Anyway - The first time I saw this I replayed it three times I thought it was so funny.

Darth Vader Prank - Yes it goes black for a few seconds, keep watching!

Cracked Lord of the Rings TBS commercial - "When Gandolf rides his white horse......watch out middle earth!"

High/Lowlights Of The Season

2006-12-28T20:26:00.000-07:00

Good Crap:

First and foremost, at the very top of the list as I think it is clearly the most important, I was able to find the very last copy of A Muppet Christmas Carol on DVD.
Turkey dinner. Yumerific.
My family, after 21 years, still forgetting to put the ketchup out for me. Sure, I could just go and put it out MYSELF...but that's so much effort.
Getting drunk off of ONE DRINK at Diana's house. Is dark rum really that much stronger than white rum?? That's the only explanation I can think of
Sandra's work shift, although ending later than expected, not ending AS late as expected, so we didn't have to postpone our "not so secret santa" gift exchange for another week. It's a festivus miracle!
Delivering Christmas hampers (laundry baskets full of everything you need for a turkey dinner, including the turkey) to those less fortunate and seeing their gratitude
When Sandra gave me the biggest hug ever after she opened my gift to her containing a homemade scarf. Funny how you end up looking more forward to giving out gifts than receiving them. Same thing with a small photo album I made for my nana.
My brother and I watching hours of clips of the Ali G show on youtube after Christmas dinner
Finding the last copy of Miracle On 34th Street for my mom; I swear it was sold out EVERYWHERE
Getting penguin pyjamas from my aunt. My coolness just went up .874 percent
I received minimal amounts of chocolate, so working off the holiday pounds shouldn't take too long. It's just the pounds that were there before the holidays that may take longer...haha. Ha. *tears*

Bad Crap:

On the DVD of my Muppet Christmas Carol, they had cut out my favourite song!! The only question I keep asking is why...why!?! WHY!?
My oldest brother and his wife were in Edmonton over Christmas. Christmas dinner was a lot quieter without his stories and the fun frivolity him and his wife always bring
Laura Sandra Diana and I didn't get to volunteer at a soup kitchen Christmas Eve like we wanted to. (At least it was because they didn't need volunteers)
I almost took some lady's head off for parking in the handicapped parking without a permit at the mall. I didn't want to freak on her in case she did in fact have one I couldn't see. She clearly was not handicapped. I wish I'd had her towed but something about it being Christmas and crap made me swallow my anger
My middle brother and his wife were four hours late getting to our house on Christmas Day so we didn't open presents until 5:00 pm. It had already started to get dark lol.
I always feel really guilty after Christmas for getting stuff...if that makes sense...so much money gets spent on stuff for me that I don't even really need. Makes me feel very materialistic.
My credit card is crying. I had to take it to the emergency room because it was abused so badly. With lots of band aids and gauze, I think it will recover just in time for the onslaught of February birthdays.

All in all I had a lovely holiday season. I feel the magic of Christmas less and less each year but it usually rears it's head when I need it most.

Now onto the magic of New Years...

Prank Calling British Columbia

2006-12-20T00:52:00.000-07:00

I have a lovely friend who lives in Victoria BC. He works at a classic rock radio station as the late night DJ. The following is my phone conversation with him the other night. Thankfully they have a 1-800 number.

"Hey, the Q?" -him
"Hi, how are you!" - me
"Good, and you?" (he has no idea who I am)
"Excellent. I was wondering if I could request a song?"
"Of course, go ahead."
"It's a little unconventional..."
"I love unconventional!"
"Ok, well I hope you've heard of it...it's called...'A Whole New World' from Aladdin?"
"Uhhh...you know, I'm fresh out of Disney."
"Really?? Well, what about Celine Dion, My Heart Will Go On?"
"I've gotta tell ya, that's like the equivalent of requesting Garth Brooks. Was that going to be your next request?"
"No no no...are you crazy...my next request was going to be 'The Rose' by Bette Midler."
"Sorry, we don't have that either..."
"What? JEEZ, do you guys play ANY good music?!?"
"For sure, and I WILL find something for you, I'm very determind. Hang on."

*on hold for about ten seconds. I'm trying to contain my giggling. He comes back on the line and says:*

"How about some Pearl Jam?"
"Weeeellll....................ok, if you're really out of Aladdin."
"And what's your name?"
"It's...uhhhh....well.....it's the lovely Lorraine."
"Oh it's YOU!"
"How could you NOT know it was me?? Who else requests Celine Dion??"
"You'd be surprised..."

At Least They Had Ketchup

2006-12-17T00:51:00.000-07:00

"Whoa...I could go to jail for what I'm thinking right now." he responded to the polite "hello" I murmured in passing . My expression immediately changed from friendly to a scowl. How did he think I would react to that? "Thank you for making a lewd comment about me, I'm very flattered. I just can't resist your flashy green and red sequin vest, white hair and leather skin. Take me now." I attempted to formulate a witty sarcastic response but anger prevented me from thinking clearly. I quickened my stride and continued on to the bathroom, where much like George Costanza I continued brainstorming clever responses. "Thank you for refreshing my definition of 'dirty old man'." "I could go to jail too after I drown you in the runny scalloped potatoes." "I'm sure you'd make lots of lovely friends there that you can hit on."

I encountered him at a dinner/theater show I went to tonight. He was, I suppose, the entertainer for the dinner portion of the night. He did so by singing I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas (twice because he forgot the second song he was supposed to sing) and making fun of the diners unfortunate enough to be seated near him. He made his attempt at a few jokes too that were all mildly funny and mildly dirty. Thankfully that was the last I saw of him and was free to enjoy the rest of the night with my ex coworkers.

Yes, it was the staff Christmas party, and no, I don't work there anymore, but lucky for me they still like me and wanted me to attend. I had an early Christmas present for my old supervisor; all the work keys I forgot to return for the past five months. She had no idea I still had them. In return she informed me that the two main people I wanted to see couldn't attend. There will be much growling at them via msn.

It's always awkward running into any form of ex, be it an ex girlfriend/boyfriend or ex boss/coworkers. In either situation, you want to look your absolute best and have exciting stories of what has been going on in your life away from them. Such stories never seem to pop into my head, and I just end up nodding a lot and saying "yup, life is good, nope, nothing new with me...you know...yeah. So..." I've never been great with the small talk, but I'm getting better! I don't have to say "LOOK AT THAT!" and point and run away as often as I used to.

Another interesting part of the night was the woman sitting directly across from me. She was wearing a V neck type of dress suit that showed her entire bra when she sat down. I can't really describe it. I COULD describe the bra in full detail since I pretty much saw the whole thing. She was two inches away from having her breasts resting comfortably on her dinner plate, and I can only imagine what sort of strange side dish she would have thought she received when she dug in.

The play was cute, a British comedy about a married couple that both decide to go away and meet the people they are having affairs with, but end up at the same hotel. Then their adulterers end up being married to each other. The play revolves around them avoiding each other and lying so the others don't find out they are having an affair while the hotel owner desperately tries to mediate while being constantly bribed to partake in the charade. It was very well done, and the actors were friendly and chatted/drank with us after the show. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'm going to get ridiculously drunk now."

My favourite part of the whole night (aside from being specially served a dish of ketchup at dinner) was getting gas on the way home. That's not to say the night was boring, far from it. But the funniest part was definitely at the gas station. I was driving my mom's car with my mother in the passenger side, and when she saw gas for 76.6 cents she wanted to stop to fill up. In the twenty seconds it took us to turn left at the lights, do a U turn to get around the median and pull into the gas station, the price had changed to 90.3 cents. What absurd timing! My mom cursed in her Christian manner (ie "Oh FIDDLESTICKS" and "DAG NAV IT!") as I tried to contain my laughter. I'm tellin' ya, it's Murphy's Law!! DAMN that Murphy!

After that I came home and tried to capture one of the few times I get dressed up and look half decent, hence my picture I posted with this. I call it "Trying to be mysterious but really being a dork."

I think that pretty much summarizes my night. It had an old man wearing a sequined vest, a funny play, Christian swearing, crazy gas prices and full sight of a woman's bra. Ask for anything more and you're just being selfish.

*originally written the night of Friday December 15, 2006*

Dreaming In Celebrities

2006-12-11T03:32:00.002-07:00

Last night (ok ok, part of this morning/afternoon too) I dreamt the largest number of dreams I can remember having in one sleep session. What blew my mind even more was, upon further inspection, the longest and most distinct dreams featured a major male celebrity whom I have varying degrees of a crush on. I can't describe to you how vivid these dreams were and how confused - and perhaps a little disappointed - I was when I woke up from them.

Dream 1 (in chronological order)
Feature Celebrity: Zach Braff

Zach, by some unbelievable twist in the universe, was actually interested in me. Naturally we ran in the same social circles so it wasn't completely unbelievable, but I was still surprised and flattered. So we started dating, but quickly ended up in a massive argument resulting in us breaking up. Then we would cool off and like each other again and get back together. This seemed to be a cycle. I remember sitting in the passenger side of a car while he drove and telling him "get over yourself" because he started using his celebrity status as ammunition in our argument. He didn't like that too much, but it somehow made him respect me more. Apparently we were on basketball teams too. I guess we played for the same organization. For one game, he was mad at me for not being ready on time, but when I got there none of the other girls were ready either, so in turn I got mad at him. I think we had burgundy uniforms and high yellow socks. A very important detail. Ok not really.

Dream 2
Feature Celebrity: Keifer Sutherland (I don't really have a crush on him, so this dream is especially weird)

Keifer had somewhat retired from his acting career and moved into an apartment building in my neighbourhood. I bumped into him one day and started chatting with him without trying to seem fan-crazed or anything. I turned to walk to a car picking me up for something, then decided to not be a chicken and went back to Keifer. I pulled out a piece of paper, scrolled down my cell number, and wrote something like "let's go out sometime." except not so lame-sounding. I started to write something else too but gave it to him mid-scrawl because I was afraid he'd leave while I was writing. He was confused over the partial sentence. Then as he was walking away with my number in hand, I heard him mutter "slut" under his breath! I was shocked and offended, so I told him off. I remember saying that I just wanted to grab a coffee, not jump in his pants. I think I might have followed him up to his apartment, or he might have invited me since he was impressed I stuck up for myself, but in the hallway something was going on. Someone was holding a bunch of people hostage, Jack (I mean Keifer) and I included. He somehow discreetly dropped three guns in these poll type things and lined up with everybody else. While I was trying to figure out how/when to get them, the gunmen let everyone go except myself and two other people, one of them being my mother. I begged them to let her go and take me instead. They agreed and were about to shoot us when some people jumped in the room, attacked them and saved us. Somehow one of the gunman ended up being this girl I went to elimentary and high school with. She had some disease that made her all psycho like that, ha. But she escaped, and later I had to run through a cornfield to get away from her. A cornfield, how cliche! (I don't know how to put the accent on the 'e') I was mad at Kiefer for not being Jack Bauer in real life and using the guns he had. Actors, what are they good for.

Dream 3
Feature Celebrity: Dr. House, aka Hugh Laurie. (The character instead of the actor)

I was at the hospital, I THINK to get my fitness assessment for the gym. Naturally, there was a Family Fitness in the hospital. House was the one doing my assessment, but got called away early. He walked out into the hall and turned to say he'd be back. But he didn't come back. So every time I went to the "gym" it was really to just try and get a glimpse of House and find an excuse to talk to him. I kept seeing him from afar, but couldn't get up close. Then for some reason a Kaylin Porter concert broke out in the hospital, and I was sitting in the middle aisle about 10 rows from the front with a friend, cheering him on. Like, what the hell, I would never be at a Kaylin Porter concert. But apparently we were friends and he gave me a special nod from on stage. Someone yelled something at me and I turned around and there was Dr. House standing behind a railing a few floors up. I left to try to talk to him but couldn't make it up there. Then something about Niagara Falls. Who the heck knows. After that, it went onto another VERY strange dream that I won't even try to explain.

The thing that messes me up about dreams like this is that they are SO vivid! Not even so much the images but the emotion. 12 hours later, I still feel very connected to each of these people, as if the experiences really happened. That's the last time I eat chicken burgers before going to bed. At least...for awhile. Like a week, tops.

How Nipple Tassels Invaded My Friday Night

2006-12-03T15:54:00.001-07:00

*Warning: The following post is rated PG14. Possibly more. Be ye warned and not offended.*

There's nothing like going to see what you think is a band and walking in on a burlesque show. Doing so will result in the following comments between Laura and I:

"Oh gawd...my eyes...MY EYES!! THEY BURN!"
"I wonder how many STD's these girls have."
"If she comes over here, I'll bottle her." "Good. We should never go anywhere without a beer bottle ever again, just in case."
"Is she supposed to be drinking gasoline?!?" "THROW A MATCH DOWN HER THROAT!"
"Apparently 90 lbs girls are sexy now."
"Is the band going to start soon? I can't take any more half naked girls." (Laura to the bouncer)
"Who drinks a smirnoff ice in a MARTINI GLASS?!?"
"I am so grateful we sat behind a pillar."

I can't say it wasn't educational at all...I now know of the existance of nipple tassels. I can honestly say that this piece of knowledge in no way enriches my life. They were attached to a girl who had a chest like a twelve year old boy. I have no idea how they stayed on. Crazy glue? Ouch!

The strangest performance would have to go to the girl who held up a succession of signs: "Vote for me." "Buy my (*censored: means the same word as "stuff"*)" and "Die for me." With each sign she felt the need to lick the sides. I wondered how she didn't get a paper cut on her tongue. She finished the act by licking a bottle of gasoline and pretending to drink it. Then some old guy dressed up like a cowboy pimp started dancing around her with a sparkler. I swear, this really happened. It was like a car accident...you can't help but look.

My favourite part of the performance was when the big Cadillac symbol hanging behind the band fell down. Cadillac Bill picked it up and pointed to some ducks painted on it. All he said was "This thing has travelled across Canada about four times. Do you see the ducks?? You like the ducks??" ...I guess you had to be there.

When the band was done, I wanted to say hi to him because we had previously been chatting on myspace, which is where I found out about his band. I think the conversation went like this:

"Hey." -Me
"Hi..." -Bill
"Do you recognize me?" -Me
(At the same time) "Do I know you?" - Bill
"Uhhh...sort of...from myspace..."
"Oh. Which one?" (I took this to mean which girl, as there seem to be many he talks to on there, but in hindsight I think he may have meant which myspace since he has two)
"Um, I'm Lorraine...we talked about your baby raccoon." (long story)
"Oh."
"Yeah. Good show tonight though. You didn't suck."
"Thanks. You'll have to email me cause I won't remember this at all."
"Alright, see you later."

A lovely encounter, no? Ha.

We left shortly after that and ended up watching Charlie Chaplin on tv till 3am. Yes, it was a strange night indeed.

Eye Contact: A Lethal Mistake

2006-11-24T17:30:00.001-07:00

As I was walking through the mall today I made the mistake of catching the eye of what I thought was just a cute guy up ahead. Instead I made the deadly mistake of making eye contact with a kiosk sales person. Then I made the mistake of saying hello in response to his hello. And then I was in: he had his hooks in me and I could do nothing but flail helplessly as a warning to all other shoppers not to fall for this cute boy bait as I had!

Flashbacks from when I was on my grade 6 trip to Montreal flashed through my head. My friend Kelly and I were walking through the mall when one of these people came up to us and started talking about his product in French. We had no idea what he was saying. Kelly and I looked at each other and promptly took off running down the mall, away from the shouting frenchman desperately trying to sell us something in a language we couldn't understand.

That's what I felt like doing today. Except the thick European accent that flowed out from his lips wasn't strong enough to validate saying "Sorry, I don't speak fren...er...I don't know what you're saying." So I stood there while he straightened my hair with his $200 (now on sale for ONLY $100) ceramic straightening iron. I told him I already have one, but apparently one that was $3.99 from Value Village wasn't very impressive to him. He also, and I have no idea how, managed to curl a piece of my hair with the straightening iron. Not a trick worth $100, but still, impressive. My favourite trick question that he asked me: "Is your hair important to you?" I should have said "not as important as it seems to be to you." I asked him to fix my hair and said I would come back.

Unfortunately, when I walked by him again, I was on my cell phone desperately trying to keep Sue on the line until I had past them, so I couldn't buy one. It was then I decided to always have my cell phone on hand in circumstances like this. Accidental eye contact?? No problem! You just happened to receive a cell phone call right after! "Sorry, I really have to take this. Oh you didn't hear it ring? That's cause I have it on vibrate. Cheers!"

Lorraine Lingo

2006-11-17T15:47:00.000-07:00

Effin - The phonetic spelling of "F'n" which is a short form of...uh...well...I probably shouldn't write that word on here. Only really works in written communication as to not be confused with "F'n".

Example: "That new Justin Timberlake song is effin dumbtarded."

Dumbtarded - A more politically correct version of "retarded" that I fully admit to having stolen from my brother.

Example: "My brother is going to think I'm dumbtarded for stealing his word."

Pants - Used as a curse word instead of traditional swear words. Can also be used as an expression of shock/surprise.

Example: "Oh PANTS, I left my keys in the front door again!!"

Mother Puss Bucket - See previous definition.

Example: "Mother puss bucket! That tube top is so small the only thing I could wear it as is a neck warmer!"

I'ma - Used to indicate one is about to do something.

Example: "I'ma go see if I can find a squirrel that resembles Abraham Lincoln."

Aheugh? - Similar to the questioning grunt Tim Allen makes in Home Improvement. Used to indicate confusion about something.

Example: "Luminescent signal quantitation with microplate or tube solution-based assays is performed with a luminometer, which measures light being emitted from a sample with either a PMT-based or photodiode detector, or with a CCD camera detector." "Aheugh??"

Fantastical - A variation of the word fantastic to make it different and more interesting.

Example: "I caught you a delicious bass." "Fantistical!"

Lovely - A former adjective now being used as a noun. I will call you this if I like you and you are a girl. Sometimes a guy if you're a little feminine.

Example: "Hey lovely, you have some mustard on your upper lip."

Love - Something else I might call you if I like you or I am being condescending or sympathetic. I will also say this one to guys. It's a habit from being friends with UKians.

Example: "I think you have to TURN the knob to open the door, love."

...More to come. Probably. Maybe. POSSIBLY.

Remembrance Day

2006-11-11T10:35:00.000-07:00

I'd like to take a moment out of my normal brand of zaniness to discuss Remembrance Day. I just returned from a Remembrance Day service and I need to type my feelings and thoughts before they go out of my head and I return to my egocentric life routine. Remembrance Day has always been a day that hits me hard, and yet I never think it hits me hard enough.

At the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum the turn out was a few thousand over the the few hundred expected. Laura and I mostly sat surrounded by people twice our age with the familiar hats of a veterans randomly popping out of the crowd. We were stuffed in shoulder to shoulder.

The ceremony started out as they usually do; greetings, welcomes, bringing out the flags or "colours" as I learned they are called.

We stood respectfully for the two minutes of silence. I don't know if it was planned, but the steady buzzing of an aircraft started to build from what must have been just outside. We couldn't see it but we knew it was there. It slowly rose to a crescendo and filled the hollow hanger. It was everywhere; engulfing everybody and reverberating through my brain. The noise wasn't anywhere near deafening, but it consumed you the way a deafening sound would. I closed my eyes and imagined standing in a field while hearing that sound overhead.

The Redeemer University College Concert Choir helped the speaker with a passage of Scripture. He would read a line and they would sing another line, bouncing back and forth like a tennis ball. They started out with just the girls singing in unison. Then the girls split into two part harmony. With each session they added more voices and split into more harmonies until at last the sound was rich and full. It was beautiful. "And I will raise you up on wings of Eagles and hold you in the palm of my hand."

The video presentation hit me like no other. Under a soft voice singing Oh Canada the pictures of soldiers who have died in Afghanistan focused and faded across the screen. It took me a moment to realize that these lively faces captured in photographs that could not have been more than a year old were no longer living on this Earth. There were so many. It's one thing to see old crosses and black and white photos from wars sixty years ago. There is a certain amount of acceptance that comes with remembering. But to see the young faces of present day Canada and to know how recently they died...I can't describe how this hit me. There are no words. The only way to express what I felt was through the involuntary lump in my throat and the tears streaming down my face. I felt silly crying at first. I couldn't see anyone else crying. And then I thought how trivial it was to be worried about how I looked crying. I let my tears spill over without bothering to wipe them away.

We've been fighting so long for peace...isn't there some sort of an oxymoron in that? I start thinking about the nature of war and why we fight. The last few decades have given us a new reason to fight. Not over land, but against terrorism and inhumanity. What saddens me is to think that no matter how hard we fight...no matter how long we fight...we will ALWAYS be fighting against these demons. All we can do is hope to better the world and save the lives of the ones we love. But the issues of war are too big for me to analyze. There is too much and I just feel overwhelmed by the enormity of it all.

During the singing of God Save The Queen (to which Laura and I could not sing along because we have never learned it) the man sitting next to me pointed to a veteran infront of us and informed me that he had flown the Spitfire. I have to admit, I am not very knowledgable with Canadian history. But I knew from the way he said it that it was very prestigious. I told Laura after. I'm not sure if she knew or not either, but she gave the same reaction as I did. "Oh wow."

At the conclusion of the ceremony the speaker asked the veterans to stand up. It was a veteran three rows ahead of me who clutched the hand of his wife as he stood that set off my tears again. How much had they lived through together!

At the retiring of the colours I felt humbled and in awe of those that serve their country. Those that risk their lives to make this world a bit of a better place for you and me to live in. Who of us can declare such selflessness?

Wear a poppy. It's the least you can do.

When you go home
Tell them of us and say,
For your tomorrow
We gave our today

-From a World War II British Army monument on the Kohima Ridge in Burma

Late Night Conversations

2006-11-07T00:07:00.000-07:00

I've been up pretty late the last few nights. Somehow (well, I actually know how) my sleep habits have been completely reversed. One advantage to this generally depressing situation is that I get to stay up on the internet and have great late night conversations with entertaining people. Like tonight for example. Here's a snippet from my convo with Richy regarding sneaking food into movie theaters:

RICHY says:
One time i was bbq-ing myself a large hamburger at home when my friends came to pick me up to go to a movie (i underestimated the time). So i brought the burger into the theater in my pocket. That's when i realized that the most warm and comforting feeling in the world for me is having a hamburger in my pocket.

~Lorraine™~ says:
LOL. I MIGHT blog your last message.

RICHY says:
It made me want to write a new age song called 'burger in my pocket'.

Lorraine vs. Lorraine

2006-10-30T22:57:00.000-07:00

Ok folks. Time for a narcissistic poll. All who favour Lorraine with blonde hair, dark underneath and perhaps red streaks, say 'aye matey' in pirate fashion. All who favour Lorraine with dark hair and bangs, say "I favour Lorraine with dark hair and bangs." Ok, now go to the comments box and let me know which you think looks best! Thanks all. Cookies and tang to follow.

Also, while we're on comparisons, is it JUST me, or do I look better as the dead prom queen I dressed up as for Halloween? Once again, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comment box.

Communications Class Poetry

2006-10-23T22:03:00.000-06:00

I wrote the following while being bored to death in communications class tonight. My two friends liked it so much they copied it down and passed it around the class, ha. Unfortunately my classmates are the ones who will appreciate it most since they know the way our prof is...

Communications Class

You babble like a mindless drone
With stature of a garden gnome
No one hears you when you speak
We wonder when you'll shut your beak

With each loud word you slow down time
We'd like you better as a mime
You seem to forget, we're not in grade five
By the end of class we're barely alive

Full stop, noun, subject, verb
Everything we've already heard
Repeated from your cathedral mouth
Makes us want to migrate south

Nothing personal, you seem quite nice
But we already learned the comma splice
Give us something for what we paid
Or another poem will have to be made

I wondered if it was karma that the only time I received a ticket for not paying for parking on campus was tonight, after I had written this poem...

My Washing Machine Is Taunting Me

2006-10-23T21:55:00.001-06:00

*note: originally written Friday October 20th

I admit it...I'm one of those terrible spoiled twenty-one-year-olds that still has her laundry done for her by her mother. One small problem this week: mom is away in Quebec City on business.

I can count on one hand - MAYBE two - how many times I have done my own laundry. I discovered very quickly that it's really not as complicated as my mother made it out to be. She always has her own little methods and stuff that I thought if I didn't do I would end up with clothes that were all pink or ripped to shreds. Now I just make sure I don't shrink anything, wash anything that is dry clean only, mix whites with colours, wash everything in cold water, put in detergent and I'm good to go!

Today was D day...perhaps L day would be more appropriate? I collected my mountain of laundry and, failling to be able to see overtop of it, groped my way to the laundry room where it spilled over, covering the floor like an area rug. Excited at the prospect of actually doing something productive for myself, I turned the dial and pulled. Nothing. I turned it again, this time a little further in to make sure it was in the 'start' region. Nothing. I tried changing the temperature of the water, the save and drain button, slamming the dial with my fist, pulling it repeatedly in and out, shouting threats littered with curses at it, and yet....still...nothing.

So in the next day or so, I have the option of going commando or buying some new underwear. Thank God it's not very cold out yet!

Loud Music, Bigger Sizes and Seductive Beds

2006-10-19T23:02:00.000-06:00

Can somebody please explain the logic of playing really loud music in a retail clothing store to me? The way I see it, it only provides disadvantages. If the type of music is something the shopper doesn't like, it will be made twice as uncomfortable by being loud. It makes it hard to talk. The sales staff go mental after awhile because they play the same tracks all day. Is that a safe work environment? What if a sales clerk is right on the brink of taking a potato gun to everybody in the store and it's the loud thumping rapper beat chanting "BABY YOU SO FINE OH BABY, DAMN GIRL" that pushes her over the edge? Well, I hope you brought your ketchup...cause potato spuds are gonna fly.

While shopping today I had to endure endless loud bad music in certain stores. And quite honestly, it nearly drove me out. I swear, if that store hadn't been overflowing with $10 pants to keep me preoccupied, I wouldn't have been able to stand in there for five minutes.

My other issue: the abundance of 1's and 3's found on every rack and the lack of...ummm...'higher' sizes. You'd think that when stores sell out of the bigger sizes, clothing manufacteurers would clue in and adjust their quantity of bigger sizes accordingly. Perhaps they are trying to give us incentive to diet? Oh wait I said size 1 and 3 didn't I...incentive to be anorexic?

Last but not least...I'm tired. Which is awesome because it's earlier than 3am! Which means I might not sleep in till 2pm! Which means I might be able to do something productive tomorrow! Which means...uhh...ok I can't derive any further meaning from that. I CAN tell you that I am currently daydreaming about my bed. It's right behind me, calling to me. "Lorraine...sleep with me...SLEEP WITH ME!" Now this is one situation where instead of providing a slap in the face, I will be happy to obligue.

Another Guilty Pleasure

2006-10-05T09:20:00.000-06:00

After much deliberation and hours of intense mental debate, carefully weighing the pros and cons of the situation, I reconciled with myself and gave in to temptation. I've added another item to my list of guilty pleasures. It will be listed somewhere in between liking those corny Leon's commercials, writing out stupid names on "hello my name is" name tags, and typing naked at my computer. (Suckers...you're none the wiser!) This one is naturally internet related, as are the rest of the items on my guilty pleasures list. Oh man, I don't really want to identify what this is. But I must...admitting it is half the battle. I can do this. Here we go: my name is Lorraine, and I am a myspace addict.

It started out innocently. Coerced by a mixture of peer pressure and my own curiosity, I grudgingly signed up and filled out a brief profile. However, being completely unimpressed with the layout, disappointed at the people that requested to "be my friend", and increasingly frustrated because I couldn't figure out how to design my page, I wrote it off as stupid pop culture and left it be.

Do you have a myspace? - Laura
No, that thing is so stupid. I'd feel so geeky being on it. -Lorraine
...but you have a website, three blogs, you're on hotornot AND plentyoffish... and signing up for the one thing that everybody on the internet has is going to make you feel geeky? -Laura
Yes. Shutup. -Lorraine

Before long, boredom began to set in - as it usually does when I'm on the internet and out of pages to visit - so I decided to give myspace another chance. This time I noticed somebody from my elementary school and high school had requested to be on my friends list. I haven't seen her since high school and occassionaly wondered how she was doing, so I was happy to add her. Then I discovered all the cool groups and people that you could add! My favourite bands?Zach Braff? The Imponderables?? I'll take five of each please! Ok I know that probably doesn't make sense. Although five helpings of Zach Braff would be mighty enjoyable.

So here I now sit, day after day, with another medium of distraction from the physical outside world. But at least I have other myspace addicts to keep me company. To date, I am up to 46 friends. And every time I log on and see people have added me or accepted my request to be friends, I can't help but let out a "damn right!"
__________________________________
Postscript: You can be my friend if you want. At least on myspace. Click here for my profile.

Adventures with grilled cheese

2006-09-30T13:14:00.001-06:00

I know what you are thinking: “Lorraine, you don’t know how to make grilled cheese, one of the easiest dishes to make, do you?”

There is a simple answer to this. No…no I don’t. But I still tried today in an effort to implement my “learn by doing” philosophy.

First I found the grill, set it up and turned it on. Easy as pie. Although I’m sure I wouldn’t be very successful in making one of those either. Next I got out my ingredients and wondered where to start.

Buttering one side of the bread, I threw it on the grill and stared at it, mildly panicking at what to do next. I figured I should have buttered the other side too, so I pulled it back and did so, smearing butter all over my hand in the process. Now what? Do I grill the other piece of bread? Do both sides need to be done? When does the cheese make its entrance? How many slices of cheese do I use? I hope I don’t end up melting the toaster with the grill like I did the last time I used it…

Making a quick guess, I unwrapped six cheese slices and put them on the first piece of bread. I flipped the other piece of toast and then thought I should flip the piece with the cheese on it. Clearly I couldn’t do this without searing the cheese to the grill. So I picked off the half melted cheese as best as I could and flipped the bread which was quickly turning into toast.

Laughing at my lack of grilled cheese skills, I tried to sawder the first piece of bread back together as it broke apart in the flipping process. Then I rationed that the cheese should help keep it together and slabbed it back on. I decided there was way too much cheese and took a few stuck-together pieces off. But what a waste of cheese that would be to throw out! Back on the bread it went with its cheese brothers and sisters. The worst being over with, I put the other piece on top to finally make it into a sandwich. The tallest grilled cheese sandwich I have ever seen, standing at an inch and a half.

For all the strife, it was pretty good except for the excess of cheese. But next time I think I’ll just stick to heating up hot dogs in the microwave.

Phone Encounters of the Sunrise Records Kind

2006-09-21T13:51:00.000-06:00

Just got off the phone with Sunrise Records. I'm trying to compare prices for The Office Season 2 (premiere of season 3 tonight, woo!) and Gilmore Girls season 6. Let me share my phone experience with you.

"GoodafternoonsunriserecordshowcanIhelpyou"

"Oh, hi how are you?"

"Good, and yourself?"

"Good, I was wondering if you could check on some prices for me?"

"Sure, can you hang on a sec?"

"No problem."

*puts receiver down*

Timer on phone: 2:26

*background yammering: "That'll be $103.56. Yeah sorry, that's not the right price, that's like, double the right price...sorry about that."*

Timer on phone: 5:48

*Lorraine starts wondering how long it will be before he picks up phone again*

*backround yammering: "Yeah, you just go out to the hall and turn right. Yeah I can help you find that. Is that all you're looking for today?"*

Timer on phone: 8:49

*Lorraine is convinced person has forgotten about phone and wonders how long it will be till he remembers*

Timer on phone: 9:03

"Hey there sorry about that."

"That's ok, it was only nine minutes and three seconds."

"Oh, you're timing me eh?"

"Well, not intentionally, the timer just happened to be there on my phone. Busy day?"

"Oh yeah! So you're looking for some prices?"

"Yeah, The Office Season 2, American version?"

"And who is this?"

"Pardon me?"

"You're calling Sunrise Records?"

"Yes...where is this?"

"This is Eastgate mall."

"Yes...Sunrise Records though right..."

"Yeah. Who's calling?"

"Erm...uhh...my name is Lorraine?"

"And you're calling from Sunrise Records??"

"NO, I am CALLING Sunrise Records...I just need some prices!"

"OH...oh sorry, I'm a creep."

"Haha...it's ok."

"The Office is out of stock right now."

"Do you know the list price for it though?"

"Aw man, I have to go get my paper...do you want to wait another 9 minutes?"

"No...no I don't."

"K hold on a sec."

"Ok...and this better be good!"

*ruffling of papers*

"It's $36.99"

"Ok. And can I get you to check ONE more thing for me?"

"Oh COME ON, you're making me do work!"

"I know, I'm sorry...I know you don't expect to being at your job and all..."

"Yeah, and I got these people calling pretending to be someone else..."

"Yeah, those crazy callers...Gilmore Girls season 6?"

"*sigh* $54.99. Plus a tip."

"A tip!! Of course I get a discount for having to wait so long right?"

"Oh yeah for sure."

"Awesome. Well thanks."

"No problem!"

*end convo*

Is it strange that I think I have a crush on this person?? And might POSSIBLY be heading there now to see what he looks like? Yeah, I thought so too...

A Procrastinator's Guide To Doing Homework (In 28 Easy Steps)

2006-09-19T00:16:00.001-06:00

1. Day of assignment: Think about how you have a glorious five days to do the assignment. Think about starting it that very night. Go out to see your friend's roller derby practise instead. Wince when they fall and hit the boards.
2. Day before assignment is due: Plan to get up extra early to get a good start on assignment. Wake up at 8 or 9. Convince yourself you just need another hour or two of sleep. Get up at 3pm.
3. Wander downstairs and make some food. Ooo and ahhh about books that finally arrived in the mail for you from amazon. Read books for one hour.
4. Go upstairs to shower and get ready for another night class (not class assignment is due in.)
5. Realise there is no time to do assignment before night class. Vow to start right after class. Get to class early and try to buy your textbook for that class. Discover they are on backorder and that you shouldn't have waited until twenty minutes before class to buy it.
6. Stop for food on way home from class.
7. Eat food when home be reached in front of the tv.
8. Go to start assignment around 10:30; this of course means going to the computer where internet is located.
9. Just to "settle into" the computer, first check email and say hi to friends online. Check blogs. Google random things before opening up your school email to check on your assignment.
10. Realize you can't get in because the bastards haven't sent you your student number yet.
11. Half heartedly reach for your binder to check assignment. Realize table that binder is on is messy...tidy up table.
12. Find one of your new books on table...read for one hour.
13. Open binder. Realize pages are not three hole punched and need to be entered into binder.
14. Go search old room for hole punch. Find and inspect interesting things along the way, such as mates to socks you thought your dryer ate and a box of old cassettes of bands you'd forgotten how much you loved.
15. Meticulously hole punch every paper.
16. Do the same for your other classes' binders.
17. Realize pens are loose and need pencil case. Go in search of pencil case from high school two years before.
18. Find more interesting things in old room during search.
19. By 2:30 in the morning give up on finding pencil case.
20. Sit down to computer again.
21. Get reacquainted with computer again by checking email, blogs, etc. Decide to procrastinate further by blogging about procrastinating on homework on your blog.
22. Resolve to get up early and do assignment.

Here is what I am predicting what will happen past this step:

23. Toss and turn all night thinking about assignment.
24. Sleep in, rush assignment, debate handing in late.
25. Think of myriad of excuses to present as to why assignment is late.
26. Decide assignment has given you more grief than it's worth.
27. Stop caring about assignment.
28. Repeat all steps for next assignment.

Oh homework...will we ever be able to live in harmony together? Brush each other's hair instead of pulling it out? Reminisce and laugh over a cup of hot chocolate about the old days when we didn't get along?? Paint our friendship rainbow?!?

Quote-erific

2006-09-16T23:50:00.000-06:00

Driving home from St. Catharines at 3 in the morning:

"Did that sign say 'Watch for slow children'?!?" -Me

"I think it said 'Slow, watch for children." - Laura

"Oh...it's much funnier the other way." -Me

Speaking of quotes, our overhead at the beach quotes that I submitted from our camping trip recently got posted on the site. Which means a) I'm famous and B) people all around the world can laugh at the sillyness! I'm glad we were able to spread sillyness around...cause really, if you don't have sillyness, what do you have? A life without sillyness is not a life worth living.

You can read said quotes here and here

Cinderella Pinatas

2006-09-11T12:08:00.000-06:00

Pinatas: The only time you're rewarded for beating the crap out of something. Except maybe that stupid Ultimate Fighter show...shudup.

The other day I was killing time at Walmart during my oil change. While I fought off McDonald's cravings, I wandered down various aisles till I found these: Cinderella pinatas.

Is it just me, or does the idea of clubbing a beautiful poised princess for the objective of smashing her to pieces to get candy out strange to anybody else? What happened to the ugly donkeys?? Animal rights activists step in? I mean, did they ever think that little girls would be a little hesitant to beat the crap out of someone (that I assume) they idolize? Although I suppose they are blindfolded when they are carrying out the beating...than how heartbroken would they be to take off the blindfold and discover they had beaten Cinderella to death?? Oh, the humanity!

The only way I can make sense of this is to use the Cinderella pinata as an outlet for pent up rage for not being able to have the fairy tale life that she has...and for stealing Prince Charming. Lord knows how few good guys are left out there, and she has to seduce the best of them. However, that should be geared to a girl more of my age than a six year old. Hmmm...I think I just thought of a new marketing strategy for Disney pinatas! AND a new therapy exercise...not that I have any other therapy exercises...cause I'm not crazy. I swear. *cough*

Camping Excitement

2006-09-05T23:17:00.000-06:00

Two weeks ago-ish, we (Diana, Dave, myself and Paul) went camping up at Tobermory. For those of you who don't know where Tobermory is, just follow Highway 6 north for about five hours, and when you see the sign that says "Losing Weight? Fight Back! - Tobermory Sweet Shop" then you'll know you're close. Other signs you may encounter are "Please Brake For Snakes" and "Rock on" ('Rockton' with the T painted out).

Good times were had by all, and I think I really survived quite well with the lack of showers, lack of microwaves, and abundance of red squirrels that somehow sound like rattle snakes. I knew I could take a few days of camping, but even by the end, I didn't go girly at all! Proud of me?? I am! *pats self on back*

The following is a succession of funny quotes and pictures from said camping trip. And as anxious as I know you all are to see the pictures, read the quotes gosh darn it! They are amusing. At least they are to me...and really that's all that matters...ha.

“Dave, do you recall hitting me in the face with the football yesterday?” –Lorraine
“I don’t think so.” – Dave
“I hit you in the face a few times...” – Diana
“Really??” – Lorraine

“We need to watch for the nudist colony…and the streetcar on someone’s lawn.” – Lorraine
“Aren’t there oversized things too?” – Diana
“YES! Dinosaurs! Ah, the landmarks of highway 6.” – Lorraine

“I just want to call someone it…nord. NORD!” – Diana

“Did you see that? ‘Speed signs doubled when workers present.’” – Diana
“You mean ‘fines’?” – Dave
“Yeah…did I say ‘signs’?” – Diana
“Yup. ‘Sorry officer, I thought I could go 160.” – Dave

“The cows aren’t showing us their butts so it’s not going to rain.” – Diana
“But they’re lying down so it IS going to rain.” – Dave
“The cows are giving us mixed signals!!” – Diana

“Do you think there’s a technical term for mooing?” – Diana
“Yes. Dave Newport” – Paul

“I like the taste of your eye-skin.” – Diana to Dave

“You could dry the dishes.” – Diana
“But I’m full!” – Dave

“Dave wasn’t snoring. He mewed a few times.” – Diana

“Diana are you ok driving?” – Lorraine
“…we’ve only been driving for an hour!” – Diana

“Paul?” – Lorraine
“Yes?” – Paul
“…I’m afraid a bear is going to eat me.” - Lorraine
“You’re paranoid.” - Paul
“What would you do if a bear attacked me?” - Lorraine
“I’d come to the funeral.” - Paul
“You’re a good friend.” – Lorraine

“When I jumped, I didn’t get any nose up my water.” – Diana after cliff jumping

*Diana goes pee, and we all exchange a look at the waterfall sound*:
“What, is there a horse over there?” –Dave

“Steak and hamburger…what’s wrong with that?” – Dave
“Beef me up Scotty!” – Diana

“Why don’t you shoot for the moon?” – Diana during Hearts
“Why don’t you shoot your foot?” – Dave

“Get away devil woman!” – Dave after Diana gives him the queen of spades and tries to make up for it through hugs

“Go get your uncle!” – Dave to small fish he caught as he puts him back in the lake

“Who cooks bacon with their bare hands? I do! Ouch.” – Dave

“Seagulls; rare and terrifying. Feasting on water snakes and girls in their early twenties.” - Dave

*pictures will come as soon as blogger stops being GAY...and I don't mean in the homosexual OR happy way!*

Little Lorraine

2006-09-02T21:27:00.000-06:00

What a strange experience to read about where you thought you would be at this age from when you were young. Upon going through old memoribilia from elimentary school I stumbled across my school journal from grade 7:

Entry #17: Where do you see yourself in ten years?

November 26, 1997

10 years from now, I will be 22 or 23. I hope to be married (no kids yet) and to be a famous actress, author, musician, or something to do with animals (like a trainer of some sort). Oh, I wouldn't mind being a singer or in a band, either. I also, sometime in the future, want to move down to Florida. Maybe Tampa, or Orlando. Close enough to go to Disney World, Universal studios, Sea World, Busch Gardens, and other cool places. I like it down there because there's beautiful weather, and so many nice places. No earthquakes. I might even get to see a tornado or two!

I suppose I'm not 22 yet (not till next April) so my grade 7 hopes could still come true, haha. I can't help but wonder what the younger me would think of where I am now. I hope she'd go easy on me for not being rich and famous (yet, haha). Looking back on this entry, a few things stick out to me:

I have no idea where the animal trainer/Florida stuff came from...that was probably the only place I'd ever really travelled to at the time.
I clearly had no concept of how quickly those years pass by; Married right now? HA!!
Apparently I had better spelling and grammar as a twelve year old than most people I currently speak to on the internet...or at least from that dang plenty of fish site. And I think that's more a commentary on today's level of literacy than my writing skills.

All that aside, I think I've discovered a new way to live my life; to make my younger self proud. Hopefully she's easy to please and has a special place in her heart for laziness and cheesecake consumed in large quantities.

The Flipping Of The Bird

2006-09-01T19:27:00.000-06:00

It occured while I was about to pull out of my parking spot on one of my routine (and by 'routine' I mean extremely rare) trips to Canadian Tire. I had just finished returning my tent that I used to camp with all week. My mom argued that this was much like buying a dress for a dance and returning it the next day. I argued that A)I had every intention of keeping the tent and B) they said I had 30 days to return it. I chose to exercise that right because the tent is hexagon, and therefore ridiculous. I stand by my decision and rights as a tent-purchaser (we're unionizing next week) especially since the sales lady tried to argue that it was a 7 day over the counter return policy. I told her "I'll policy YOU!" ...Ok I lied about that part.

The van in the parking space directly infront of me was backing out. I noticed him slam on his brakes abruptly as another car veered into the empty spot next to him. As far as I could tell, he didn't come anywhere close to hitting the other car.

All of a sudden, the car that pulled in next to him (a carload of full grown ADULTS in beautiful traditional Indian clothing) start sticking their hands out the window and flipping the guy the bird. The thing that amused me the most was that it was completely sporatic: one person, than another, than another, as if they were deciding to take turns. Sometimes they would go in two person combos, and by the finale all of them stuck their hands out in unison to crescendo to the worst middle finger slaying I have ever witnessed, all while muttering what I am sure were angry sentiments.

I couldn't help but giggle to myself as I pulled through and drove away. Mostly because for the life of me, I could not shake the mental image of the family as a board of "whack-a-moles" randomly throwing up their middle fingers and the guy they were flipping off hitting them with a big rubber mallet.

Damien Rice: The Blower's Daughter ('Closer' soundtrack)

2006-08-27T15:16:00.000-06:00

I can't stop listening to this song; it's one of those songs that just moves me, touches me in that deep recess of my heart that I hide from everyone, including myself most of the time. One of those songs that makes you want to cry, not just because you feel sad, but happy and sad at the same time. One of those songs that draws life and emotion out in a long line and makes you feel overwhelmed by the enormity of it. I know most people won't get that from this song, and probably think this sounds exagerrated, but that's what it does to me, and that's how it makes me feel.

And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time

And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky

I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes...

And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most...of the time

And so it is
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial

I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes...

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?

I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind...
My mind...my mind...
'Til I find somebody else

Pizza and Violence; You Know, A Typical Saturday Night

2006-08-14T22:39:00.000-06:00

The other night, Shawn and I were sitting in Pizza Pizza after I whipped his ass at pool (Shawn if you're reading this, I'm just kidding. To anybody else reading, I am serious.) While I made unpleasant faces over the burnt bottom of my pizza, a situation began to transpire across the restaurant involving the only other people in the restaurant:

Stupid 18 year old meathead to 15 year old punk kid stick boy: What are YOU lookin' at?

15 year old punk kid stick boy: Nothing man...

Meathead proceeds to egg Stick Boy on further. Meathead's two friends start chanting "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" with the exclamation marks and EVERYTHING.

Meathead starts pushing around Stick Boy. Stick Boy's 8 friends do nothing but surround him and watch.

Shawn and I exchange 'not knowing what to do' glances. I continue to watch the excitement like watching a movie, only with pizza instead of popcorn.

Once Stick Boy starts getting bloody as he clearly cannot defend himself well against this moron, Meathead's friend starts to panic.

Meathead's friend: Yo man, I know his brother, I know his brother! Let's get out of here!

Meathead and Co go to leave. Some of Stick Boy's friends go to leave too.

Stick Boy's Girl Friend to Me: This is crazyness!

Me: *stares blankly* Eats more pizza.

Meathead's friend#2 to Meathead: Dude, go back inside and get your hat and your other shoe man.

Meathead's friend #1 to pizza pizza guys: DON'T call the cops yo! DON'T call the cops!

Pizza Pizza guy calls the cops.

Meathead wanders back in and considers getting his shoe, which is in fact a flip flop. But upon seeing the kid again, and not wanting to lose face by walking out of the restaurant, he kicks his other flip flop off and advances again. When the flip flops come off, you know Meathead means business.

A cop soon arrives:

Cop: Alright everybody, break it up, break it up!! You *points to Stick Boy* sit THERE! Don't move! All you guys *motions to Stick Boys friends* sit down too!! You! *grabs Meathead by the neck...Meathead has fear behind his eyes* Are you on parole??

Meathead: Nah.

Cop: Are you sure?

Meathead: Yeah.

Cop: Cause you're big...you look like you would be on parole.

Stick Boy goes to get up.

Cop: SIT DOWN!!!!!!!!!

Stick Boy freezes and slowly sits back down.

One of Stick Boy's friends is talking loudly on his cell phone. The cop wanders over, takes the phone out of his hand, and hangs it up.

Stick Boy's friend: HEY, that was my mom!!

Cop: What are you all doing out so late, it's past your bed time.

Shawn and I: More munching on pizza.

Cop to us: Sorry to ruin your dinner folks.

Shawn: Just doin' your job.

Me: *thumbs up*

Shawn to me: Well...thank you for a lovely evening.

Dogsitting

2006-08-06T17:11:00.000-06:00

Friday night I officially began my tenure as 'dog sitter' for my friend Kali and her family. I know all of 5 breeds of dogs so I won't try to label what kind he is, although I'm pretty sure he's a husky mixed with something or possibly a few things.

My first encounter with the dog had me laughing my head off. I struggled with the padlock (and later with the cage itself) to open it and let him out, but he was so overcome with excitement that he backed up, pushed the back of it open and walked out to greet me. He kissed me and jumped on me as I sat baffled with the closed padlock still in my hand. What, did you just put yourself back in when you heard me walk in the door?? Smart puppy. I also don't know what it is with dog cages, but I can't figure out how to open the damn things. This is sad for many reasons, the most obvious being that even the dogs I watch can figure out how to open them.

Yesterday I took Max to our family picnic and he was quite the celebrity. Upon telling Kali this she said "well, that was a mistake." Quite the contrary...my family loved him. "He's such a well behaved dog!" Kali's reaction: "REALLY!?"

When I returned that night to put him in his crate so I could stop off at home, he started barking and whining like he was being tortured. I could hear him grapling with the padlock in a vain attempt to escape. My animal sympathies got the best of me and I figured it would be ok to let him out for just a few hours while I was gone.

I returned later that night to find him thrilled to see me, and to see that excitement almost instantaneously dissolve to shame and embarassment as I discovered what he had done. I don't know how or where he got them, but he managed to get into a box of tea bags of all things. They were ripped open and nicely matted into the carpet of the computer room, as if he were making a finger painting for me (paw painting?). This time he had no objections to going into his crate as punishment. Kali told me one time they got home to find him go right into his crate because he knew he'd done something wrong. It's like the temptation is too much for him at the time but he's so disciplined he punishes himself.

Last night he slept at my feet and periodically licked my hand to wake me up and see if I felt like getting up yet. "Soon Max...soon." I fed him at 10:00 and went back to bed till 2:00. Hey, family get togethers are tiring events!

Today we went for a walk and I threw around the tennis ball for him. Before we left I had a hell of a time trying to find my car keys so I could lock the house up. I finally found them, of all places, in the keyhole of the front door. It's a good thing I made sure all the doors were locked last night. My car could have gotten stolen or I could have been raped and murdered. Luckily for me, all I ended up with was a slap on the head as I called myself various insulting names.

I'm having a lot of trouble trying to get him to pee and poo on command or when he is supposed to go. "For the love of gawd Max, please activate your bowels...it's for my well being as well as yours!!" Max doesn't listen to my begging. But he will drop the tennis ball in my lap as if to say "nah...I think I'll play instead."

He also threw up this morning. And I broke their sprinkler. Yeah. Don't think I'm going to be invited back.

I least I got free ketchup pringles out of the ordeal.

I've Fallen And I Can't Get Up

2006-08-01T20:32:00.000-06:00

I bought a bike. Well, it's really the bike that my dad owes me for graduating grade 8 that I ended up buying for myself. He bought the helmet and light as compensation. (Yes, I have a helmet, light, AND a bell...it's the law people...the LAW...well...except the helmet part. You only have to wear one up to age 18. But really, who would take the risk of having their brains strewn all over the sidewalk?? Is it really worth it?? Always wear your brain bucket my friends. Brains are NOT meant for sidewalk decoration. That is why we have sidewalk chalk.)

Right. Now that the tangeant is over with, I bought a bike. It's a pretty bike, black and grey, lots of speeds and stuff...not that I really know that much about bikes, cause I really don't. I know it's a good quality bike and I can take it on trails or just for a stroll around the block if I so choose. It also came with a free water bottle and cage. Did you know that they have backpack water bottle things called camels? You just drink out of a straw that goes to your mouth and wear the water on your back...how cool is that?

Right. Now that THAT tangeant is over with, I bought a bike. I took it out two days ago over to Diana's. Now you must understand, I have only ridden a bike once since about graaade 5 or 6. So my confidence with said bike was as shaky as the handlebars under my grasp. I went slow and maneuvered over to the only busy intersection I would inevitably hit on my journey. The little crosswalk guy flashed and off I went with my pedestrian's (biker's?) right of way.

It was at this time that I noticed from my peripheral vision a truck approaching; he would have been running parallel with me had he not been turning left, into my path. He showed no sign of stopping, and we both hit our brakes at the same time. However, I think I hit mine a little harder than his. My bike jolted to a stop due to the brand new sensitive brakes, and I jolted with it; only instead of staying grounded on the bike, I somehow was jolted off of it. I couldn't put my foot down to find my balance and before I knew it, I had toppled over with my bike on top of me. After a brief moment of humiliation and realization of pain, I stumbled to my feet in time to hear the guy in the truck say "are you alright?" But not in a very concerned tone...more in a "if you're not dead I'm moving on" type of tone. Jerkface. Yes, his face was indeed that of a jerk's.

After licking my wounds on the sidewalk (not literally...clearly...OBVIOUSLY...) I pushed back some tears and kept onward. My leg is pretty badly bruised in two places but other than that I was fine. My first bike battle wounds. *sentimental sigh*

My issue is, I always feel like when I try something new I'm going to fail horribly at it. (Classic old fear of rejection type thing I guess). That's why it was so important that I go back today.

I totally took on that intersection and showed it who was boss. Oh yes. My performance was flawless. It included checking all areas around me and assuming that cars think I am invisible. My bike tires gracefully kissed the pavement as they glided me along to safety. I would have triumphantly thrown my arms in the air, however doing so I am sure would have caused serious injury or death. Thus the celebration stayed confined to my head...until I could let it overflow here. GET IT?? OVERFLOW?!? Booya...I'm going to bed.

Introducing Salsa Webcam Chatanugan

2006-07-28T07:12:00.000-06:00

Last night Sandra hosted a BBBQ (the extra B is for BBYOB. That extra B is a typo) and although the weather spat on us a bit and threatened to send us a tornado, we prevailed. (And dare I say...excelled?) It was good times hanging with people I haven't seen in awhile and Sandra's cool tree planting friends. At one point I took over BBQing and had an interesting bout with the zuccini...I had no idea you could BBQ zuccini. One rule to remember: when it's mushy it's done. I also discovered how good a seat cushion Shawn makes. I'm thinking of marketing him. He even comes with a massage option....ooooooooo!

Here are some quotes for yours and my enjoyment:

"What's a word that has to do with killing??" -Laura "...love." -Shawn
"It's cause she was smoking pot." - Lorraine *Laura gives Lorraine a funny look* "I mean.....not pot......TOP....." - Lorraine
*Laura has us all brainstorming a good name for her for roller derby.* "You should use an American Gladiator name...or an X-Men name...like Ice...or Rogue...or Jean Grey..." -Lorraine "NIGHTCRAWLER!!" -Shawn Other suggestions: Juggernaught Jesus...ok that's all I can remember, although we spent a good hour brainstorming names ha.
"I'm going to go brush my teeth so that I don't eat any more." - Sandra
"The last two things that you've said have been 'webcam' and 'webcam what what'" -Shawn to Dave
"He's wearing sandals and it's completely throwing me off" -Lorraine

As cool as all my friends and the new people I met are, my favourite visitor of the night was actually not human. By making her presence known by endless meowing, we adopted Salsa Webcam Chatanugan. Or as Shawn named her, "Cat". She was named Salsa because that's what we fed her. Webcam...well it was kind of a theme throughout the night. And I have no idea where Chatanugan came from.

Her head was constantly tilted to one side for some reason and she was essentially skin and bone. Toward the end of the night I sat with her on the patio and petted her and fed her what I could. (I eventually went inside to give her a scoop of cat food and a bowl of water). The little bugger just wormed her way into my heart. Upon leaving I had to sit her down and make her understand that it wasn't her...it was me. She followed me where ever I went. Well, until she figured out I was leaving and wasn't giving her more food anyway. Smart cat.

The whole experience reminded me of how much I crave a pet and how much it sucks that I can't have one. (Whole family is allergic except for me). It's also making it awkward when I visit friends and end up spending more time with their pet than with them.

Hopefully this will be remedied when I move to Australia. Oh...did I forget to mention that?

*pictures to come*

A Family of Quotes

2006-07-24T07:15:00.000-06:00

The following was assembled yesterday when we got together for Darren's birthday and later on the way to see The Devil Wears Prada. Personally I always thought the devil would be more of a Gucci type person. Erm, being. Character??
_____________________________

"Has anyone seen that t.v. series 'littletown'?" - Mom

"........you mean Smallville?" - Larissa

_____________________________

My brother Chris on his friend leading a worship song during a church service:

"He was talking during this really soft, worshipful music interlude and accidentally said 'praise the son of Jesus.' Then he stopped and was like 'wait a second...that's a bit theoretically incorrect...uhhh...' . Then he just went right into the next song...we made fun of him for the entire trip."

_____________________________

My other brother Darren reading his birthday card that says on the cover:

'Only a brother that is thoughtful, amazing, and virtually faultless can open this card.'

*the card is glued shut so that you cannot open it and must read the back. Darren does not accept this and rips the card open anyway*

"THERE! Now I am what the card says...I'M WHAT THE CARD SAYS!!"

_____________________________

Sidenote: When mom made her Smallville comment, I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote it down so I wouldn't forget it. Larissa sees me do this and says to my mom "You are SO getting blogged." They know me too well...

A side hobby while watching American Gladiator

2006-07-21T12:11:00.000-06:00

Sue and I (with minor contributions from Cal) brainstormed the following when we tripped across American Gladiators on tv the other day. Gawd, I miss that show...if only for the purpose of seeing people get their asses kicked and laughing at them. Luckily most of that need is fulfilled through watching MXC.

Unlikey (but funny) names for an American Gladiator:

creampuff
gimpy
daisy
twinkle toes
bucktooth
skippy
fattie
twinkie
flubber
stumpy
pink fizz
chip
skippy
dwight
any of the seven dwarfs

Suggested names for an American Gladiator:

roadkill
extinguisher
vengeance
oxide
pillar
carnivore
wasabi
piro
fusion
cougar
zinc
any of the x-men names
barry

The emotional roller coaster of lost and found

2006-07-17T16:36:00.000-06:00

I cannot describe to you the knot of dread and disappointment that forms in the pit of your stomach when you realize that something you love is missing...and possibly gone forever. Shock and denial set in as you are faced with the reality of living without it. You feel lost, alone...as if you have lost a part of your very self; a limb, or perhaps a vital organ. The feeling eminates in waves originating in your stomach, then dispersing throughout the rest of your body, ending in a hot flash of panic.

What you feel upon discovering said lost object is quite the opposite; a hot flash of exhileration, and waves of ecstacy tingling all over your body until you are fully consumed in elation. Those who have stuck by me these last few weeks will know of what I speak, and no doubt will share in my exuberation over finding the filler of the dull and empty void that I have suffered through.

Yes my friends...I found my CD wallet.

All of my little babies in tact...and although suffering from heatstroke, appear to be in all other ways, unharmed.

They were hiding in the backseat of my dad's car, behind the large headrest, and only visible through the back windshield. How they arrived there in the first place, I do not care...all that matters is that they are home, safe and sound.

I would not have noticed them had I not forgotten my license and had to sit in the passenger's side of the car on the way home. (In the morning I'm much too tired to notice anything besides my blanket and pillow in the car). The sunlight caught it in it's light, and I stared at it, wondering if it was some sort of desert mirage. Surely I had hallucinated seeing my CD's in other places these last few weeks...even checking places I had already checked five times just in case they magically appeared. Places such as my glove compartment which is really too small to fit the CD's in the first place. I thought I had thoroughly searched my father's car...I thought wrong.

All the way home from work I hugged my CD's to my bossom...running my hands along the soft plastic which felt as if it had slightly melted from prolonged sun exposure...admiring it's faint sparkles hidden in the navy blue...flipping through all my CD's to individually assure them that I would never leave them again. I will be purchasing a child leash to ensure this.

It took me a good chunk of time to compose myself. My jaw was dropped down for the first quarter of the ride home. My father had to endure endless rantings of "I CAN'T BELIEVE I FOUND IT...I CAN'T BELIEVE IT...I'M IN SHOCK...I THOUGHT THEY WERE GONE FOREVER...YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW GOOD THIS FEELS...YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I YEARNED FOR THEM...I CANNOT PUT IT INTO WORDS HOW HAPPY I AM TO HAVE FOUND THEM..."

Dad's response: "Well Lorraine, you can't take them to bed with you."

Yeah...we'll see about that.

Niagara Falls and the Denny's bathroom encounter

2006-07-17T08:35:00.000-06:00

This past Friday night I ventured off to Niagara Falls with my brother, his lovely wife, and their friend Ashley who is up visiting from the States. Unbeknowest to me, there is a fireworks show every Friday and Sunday night in the summer at 10:00 pm with live (although somewhat crappy) music before hand. We got there just in time to see the show, which was pretty spectacular, except for having to endure my brother's orgasm sounds at every huge explosion. "Darren...those are sounds that as your sister, I should never, EVER have to hear you make."

It always fascinates me how mesmorized we all are by simple things; a bunch of falling water that does nothing but...well...fall. And big sparkly things that explode in the sky and make big noises...it doesn't take a lot for us to stare slack jawed at the spectacle. I'm amused by even simpler things...for example, the discovery that blueberries float at different heights. I know this doesn't sound very exciting, but put some in a clear glad plastic bag and fill it with water and I bet you'll think it looks cool too!

After the fireworks we checked out the new casino which I didn't even know existed. ie, I had always thought the old casino was the new one. How I could make this mistake, I'm really not sure...I guess the old one didn't seem that old to me. The new one was pretty nice...the slot machine ate three of my quarters. Something like that could only happen to me...it didn't even let me spin. It hated me, and the feeling was mutual. Some of you may wonder what I'm doing to Larissa in the photo to your left...I am pulling her shirt out in a vain effort to hide the contrast between our bodies just for a bit. Remember, camera adds ten pounds...or forty...and in Larissa's case takes pounds away...we're REALLY the same size. *cough* After grabbing a free water and pop (did you know they give out free water and pop?? Although I guess in actuality I paid 75 cents for it...blast you slot machine...) we decided to observe the blackjack tables. One guy was betting hundreds on each round and going up and down thousands of dollars. I'm not fast enough at math to play...I would probably sit there looking at my cards and say"ok...face card...10...plus 7...that's...*counts on fingers* give me a second... ok... seventeen... hit me... 4...*more counting on fingers* 21! Perfect. Hit me....no wait...CRAP..."

Soon Larissa's hungry kicked in and after much deliberation, we decided on...*drumroll*... Denny's. Mainly because it had pictures of the food on the menus which helps Larissa make up her mind instead of being faced with "everything looks so good!" Which still kinda happens but once she finds something she wants we take the menu away from her so she can't change her mind. We also decided that going to Denny's was like going to America. I said it should be like an American Embassy...American territory on Canadian ground, complete with grease stains on the lightshades. However, it was in the bathroom that the strangest occurence of the night took place:

*Lorraine walks into washroom and immediately is met by a female worker of about 16 or 17 years old who starts talking to her*

"Oh my GOD, I hate my hair, it's totally not working. I just hate it, I wish I had hair like yours and not this kind of hair...this is going to be the longest night EVER..."

"Oh yeah...that sucks...I think your hair looks fine."

"Really? Oh my GOD, I have to work till 7 in the morning and I hate my manager."

"Wow...long night."

"I guess I better check the bathrooms..." *she goes to last stall and takes a two second glance in: "That one's fine..." *slams door* "This one's fine..." *slams door* "This one too..." *slams door*

"That was easy."

*Lorraine starts powdering her nose*

"Oh, do you have an acne problem too?"

"Uhhhhh......"

"I hate it so much, I have it like all over my chest and my back and stuff..."

"Ohhhh...."

"So where are you from?"

"Near Hamilton."

"Oh yeah, I'm from Port Colbourne."

"Cool."

*she momentarily leaves to take out the garbage...another women approaches the sink and has nowhere to set down her purse to wash her hands so I volunteer to hold it for her*

"Thanks. Are you from here?"

"About an hour away...where are you from?"

"Oh I'm from Michigan."

"Oh that's nice...are you enjoying your visit?"

"Yeah it's nice here."

"That girl who was in here is sooooooo weird..."

"You don't know her?"

"No, she just started babbling to me as soon as I walked in!"

"Oh, I thought y'all was friends."

*girl re-enters and cuts me off in the middle of my conversation with this other women and starts babbling again...I finish up, say goodbye to the nice Michigan lady and run out.*

I cannot begin to relay just how much and obliviously this girl babbled...I can't even remember half the stuff she said because after awhile I just tuned her out...I honestly wish I could have videotaped the encounter, I was wondering if I was on candid camera or not. Thank goodness I have a blog where I can write about such strange encounters. *hugs blog* Uhhh, sorry I'm going to need a minute alone with my blog...please come back later...

Always a bridesmaid, never a...hey wait...I wasn't even a bridesmaid!!

2006-07-14T14:21:00.000-06:00

But that's ok...I was the allocated pianist. That word makes me nervous...let's say allocated performer instead.

For those of you who don't know, which probably isn't anybody reading this since I think I've told everybody, their mother and their cat, my brother got married this past May 19. (I must apologize for the tardiness of this post...it's been a work in progress ever since as you will discover it is very, very long...) He got married to the lovely Larissa, and honestly I couldn't be happier with anybody he picked to marry. She just makes me want to hug her every time I see her. Or head butt her shoulder Homer-Simpson fashion...I'm not quite sure why. "*Stampy starts butting another elephant* You see Bart, just like humans, some animals are just jerks. *Homer starts head butting animal guy* Mr. Simpson, stop it. Stop it, Mr. Simpson. Please, Mr. Simpson...stop."

They decided to do a different timeline for their wedding day which actually turned out to be quite ingenius. This was the order:

wedding pictures
family dinner
ceremony
cocktail reception
some speeches
getting funky (dance)
cake
more dancing
more cake
dancing WITH cake
me taking a picture of someone's butt when they weren't suspecting it

Yes, this was the official iternary.

It was smart to do this because without a big dinner that nobody really needs, they were free to invite more guests and didn't have to think "but if we invite them that's another $60!!" etc...thus they were free to invite anybody they wanted so we could settle into one big fun happy party.

The day started out a bit rainy and a bit chilly, so naturally we were all concerned about the outdoor wedding pictures. But Larissa prayed and got her miracle; the sun poked it's head out and the pictures turned out beautifully.

Larissa turns her face to the sun and enjoys her miracle

The Wedding Party

Alex and Levi, neice and nephew of the bride made the cutest flower girl and ring bearer!

Brother, sister, and a new sister-in-law. GUESS WHICH ONE I AM!!

Next on the agenda was the dinner. It was the first meal I'd ever had with alcohol in it. As you can tell, the dinner was very exciting:

Levi tuckered out on his father's lap

With all the celebrations one could easily forget: they haven't been married yet! So off we went to the ceremony. I kept a close eye on Larissa to ensure she didn't have any cold feet episodes...after awhile she got very sick of me constantly trying to keep her feet warm and handcuffing her to myself with a child leash. Now if that isn't love for your brother, I don't know what is! You're welcome man.

My nerves were starting to kick in before the ceremony and all the typical mental flash pictures of me starting to sing and croaking or walking up to the piano and falling flat on my face started to carasel through my mind. My nerves were soon eased by another distraction; Larissa's nephew completely stole the show. Once the little guy made it on stage, he completely forgot where he was supposed to go and just stood there. Once his mother got up there she took his hand and stood with him, and it was at this point that he thought it to be humorous to start stomping on the stage. It made a resounding echo you see, which added an interesting backdrop to their vows to each other lol. No amount of mother and aunt standing on his feet could make him stop, nor could my mutterings of "I'm going to kill that kid, I'm going to kill that kid...BUT HE'S JUST TOO DARN CUTE!" Hey, if Larissa didn't mind (as I'm sure she didn't because she was laughing at it too and loves him very much) why should I?

I fell in love with the music they played for the processional. It was taken from The Chronicles Of Narnia soundtrack and is a really gorgeous song. The rest of the wedding flowed relatively smoothly aside from Levi's antics. I teared up during the vows and could only think about how perfect this match was. My performance went off ok...my voice cracked on the first note but I think I recovered ok lol. No horrible flaws...we're all our own worst critics so I won't say anything more.

Me tickling the ivories and singing...Darren and Larissa picked a cute but not mushy song by K's Choice called Favorite Adventure for me to perform during the signing of the registry.
I feel like my mom by wanting to yell "STOP SLOUCHING! SIT UP WOMAN!"

After the ceremony came the reception, which was held in a lovely room at the Hamilton Art Gallery. Before the fun began, we had to get all the boring stuff out of the way; speeches ensued, there was a wonderful disorganized scurrying to get the guestbook signed, and a small goat was sacrificed. You know, the usual Christian customs. Speeches were actually well done; short and to the point, as it should be. Larissa's cousin even did a FABULOUS take off of the priest in The Princess Bride: "Marewiage. Marewiage is wha bwings us...togethaw...toooday." Also, Alex and Levi sung the snuggle puppy song. For the video of that, click here. And you can't have a wedding without wedding games, so we had the shoe game; various questions get read off (for example, who is more likely to leave their towel on the bathroom floor?) and while facing back to back the couple answers by putting either their own or their partners shoe in the air. Most of them were the same, but one or two were disagreed on.

Performing with some help from mom
"Oooo ooooo...snuggle puppy of mine...the way I feel about you is especially fine..."

Darren is more likely to leave his towel on the bathroom floor.

After all that, it was time to get funky! And eat cake...but mostly get funky.

A hideous picture that I debated if I should even post of me getting funka ala Elaine Dance

My best buddy Diana was my date. (Not gay...) Also needed a better pic after the hideous one.

Brother throwing the garter to the anxious crowd of single guys...who, after this picture was taken, stood and stared at it on the ground. Evidentally, unlike the single girls, men don't want to be the next to get married.

Larissa's sister made this cake and with the help of West Jet flew it in from Edmonton. Don't ask me how. It had "I love you" written in all different languages on it and was soooo delicious. (That's saying a lot for me since I don't normally like chocolate cake)

This cat started to peek in during speeches (the room we were in was all glass windows). When I showed Larissa this picture later she exclaimed "LOOK DARREN, IT'S OUR WEDDING CAT!" Only Darren and Larissa could have an official wedding cat...

Possibly my favourite of all the wedding pictures...Larissa was (jokingly) outraged at what someone said and I JUST happened to catch her expression (complete with unchewed cake in her mouth) as it happened. Hey, there's enough pretty pictures of her on here to compensate, haha.

Mmmm...food...oh cute dancing couple too. Mmm...food...

Larissa's thoughts: "I'm soooo glad Darren shaved today..."

After the ceremony there was a franctic episode involving a certrain bride's missing purse with certain very important tickets and passports that were needed for a certain honeymoon being taken in about five hours. After cancelling all credit cards and driving to St. Catharines to get personal ID so they could hopefully still take their trip, the purse was found, hours before the flight, and all ended up well.

Hopefully in the not too distant future I will be posting about mini-Darren and mini-Larissas.

In conclusion to this insanely long post...it was a good day. We love Larissa and have fully welcomed her into our family. She keeps Darren in check so we don't have to. I wish them lots of happiness.

And they lived happily ever after...except for Larissa who was forced to watch episode after episode of Babylon 5.

(For more wedding pictures, check out Darren's flickr photos and Larrisa's blog I might post more later cause there were some good ones I didn't get to upload yet)

Suggestion Box: Last Day At Work

2006-07-12T11:33:00.000-06:00

My childish sense of mischief has been working overtime to conjure up ideas for pranks and funny things to do as my last working day approaches (Friday July 28, 2006)

I've taken a page from Jim in The Office and had a few suggestions/ideas already:

Take an object from someone's desk and put it in a jello mold...then leave it for them to find
Replacing someone's pens and pencils with crayons
Have a garage sale for left over office supplies I won't need at my desk
Buy my old telephone off the company so that I can ceremoniously take a sledge hammer to it in a deserted field...then melt it in a bon fire. "Try and ring NOW...b#%ch..."
Chasing a solicitor out with a baseball bat
Squirting a solicitor with a water gun (I just thought of that...oh MAN I would die laughing...)
Make out with someone on my desk (whoops...that was supposed to go under "secret fantasies"...wrong list...)
Moon the security camera
Print off a page that says "I have felt for a long time that my needs as a printer have been neglected. People just come and go in and out of my life all the time and use me for my ink supply. I have feelings too! And I hope the rumours about replacing me haven't been true...I always try to do my best and I'm sorry about the paper jams. Some days I'm just not feeling up to par. Please try to understand and be a little more sensitive in future. Love, Herbert (your printer...yes, I do have a name. Didn't bother to find out did ya?" and just wait for someone to pick it up at the printer
Convince people that I'm leaving to star in a movie and they should get my autograph while they can
Try to mail my most annoying coworker to Japan
Put a sign on my boss's back
Put up a "donations to the Lorraine fund" box
Build a monument to myself in reception.
Plant a fake huge rubber spider in a common area of the office
Page for Donald Duck or some other humorous cartoon character
Switch the male and female symbols on the bathrooms
Put a fake porn icon on my desktop, take a print screen of the desk top, set it as the background, delete the porn icon, but it will still appear as a picture...this should make the person who tries to delete it go nuts because they won't be able to

Clearly this list is not nearly long enough, so please leave me comments with more suggestions!

Thanks.

Love, Herbert.

Busted

2006-07-09T15:08:00.000-06:00

"This is your brain when you're speeding: 'hehehehehehe I'm speeding....' This is your brain when you get caught: 'crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap!'" - radio commercial that speaks the truth.

So it finally happened. All this dreading of "my luck is going to run out one day" can now be let go of...my luck ran out yesterday. Personally, I blame you for this. (It's fun to blame things on people that are in no way responsible...you should try it sometime!)

Flying up highway six north yesterday I thought I was invincible...nice straight road...few cars on the road...nice clear day...excellent conditions for being able to see a cop well in advance right?? Wrong...

The bugger snuck up on me from the other side of the road...and caught me going what I admit is an appalling speed...guess what it was...(the speed limit was 80.) 100? Nope...120? Nope...130? Nope...well...sorta....134...*whimpers* Not even my fake FBI ID could save me...and believe me I tried! Agent Nerd has no jurisdiction in Guelph...

I thought he might reduce it...I was lucky the last time I was pulled over...but no...he showed no mercy. Not even when I started bawling my eyes out. Not even when I pretended to think the limit was 100 making it not soooo bad. His words of comfort to me?

"You know, I very well might have saved your life."

Oooooo......yes....thank you for that officer. Can I get your address so that I may personally send you a thank you note and a lovely fruit basket?? Because cleary by pulling me over on a completely clear day on an almost completely open and straight road, you have saved my life. That's a GREAT spin to put on the situation. Thanks so much for giving me the opportunity to appear in COURT in GUELPH which is an HOUR away from my house in August so that I may have my license SUSPENDED for a month. Clearly I am indebted to you...also, if I had balls, now would be the time I would invite you to lick them.

I am a good friggin' driver. I have never been in an accident. I have avoided many accidents from people who have almost driven into ME. My driving record is nearly spotless except for a speeding ticket I got about four years ago. I know I was driving fast...but I wasn't driving recklessly...I'm alert and pay extra attention to the road when I have to drive faster. And the limit really SHOULD be 100 there...and even with all the excuses I'm making, I still don't think I deserve this.

My first favourite part was when he seriously asked me if I was in the FBI because of the fake ID I carry around for fun in my wallet. He actually inspected it. My second favourite part was when he was helplessly trying to say things to make me feel better (or just saying things cause he didn't know what to say) as I sat crying, and he slowly walked away..."Do you know where the courthouse is? (I ALREADY TOLD YOU I'VE NEVER BEEN HERE BEFORE YOU TWAT) It's downtown, you can't miss it. (THANKS FOR THE TIP, I'LL REMEMBER THAT IN A MONTH) They'll PROBABLY reduce it...(IF THAT'S THE CASE YOU COULD JUST REDUCE IT NOW AND SAVE US BOTH THE TIME, MONEY AND AGGRAVATION!!) are you going to show up on that day? (WHAT DO YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO SAY RIGHT NOW, 'NO'? I'LL BE TOO BUSY JOY RIDING A BAG OF COCAINE OVER THE BORDER??)" I should have said "yes, I'll drive there as fast as I can." Bahaha........ah.

Oh...uhhh...if anyone talks to my parents....yeah don't mention this quite yet....haven't quite found the way to break it to them....I have a feeling "I got busted for doing 134 in an 80" won't go over too well...maybe I can tell them something worse first so it won't seem so bad:

"Mom...dad...I'm pregnant and am eloping with the father. I also got a ticket for doing 134 in an 80. Oh, and just kidding about the whole pregnant eloping thing..."

Superman is my kryptonite

2006-07-07T23:58:00.000-06:00

The title really doesn't have much to do with this post, but I like the cut of it's jib.

Just saw the superman flick, and I have these insightful comments to make:

When the ham sandwich did previews and coming attractions start to take up so much time?? 15 minutes my friends...15 freaking minutes!! That's like an eighth of the movie! Someone actually yelled out "finally!!" when the "feature presentation" graphic finally reared it's head, met by much agreement around the theatre. Does anybody remember the days when they never played commercials before a movie? I do...back in my day...when I had to walk 5 miles to school...in the snow...uphill....BOTH ways...

When they were on the alien rock thingy, what did they plug their computers into? HMM??

"Bowman is dead...he got hit by a piano..." I think Sandra and I were the only ones laughing hysterically at this line. Hit by a piano...hit by a piano!! Who gets hit by a piano if you're not a looney toons character?? I was looking around the theatre to try and see if others found it amusing, but no...apparently the thought of death by piano wasn't humorous to them. Thus I'm pretty sure I was "that girl who laughs when nobody else does in the movie."

Sandra and I had lots of witty banter. For example, when Perry is directing how each department of the newspaper has to cover superman: "Business: how he will affect the stock market. Sports: how are they going to get that plane out of the stadium. Human interest: where has he been and is he seeing anybody. Lifestyle..." Me: "...is superman gay? He DOES where those revealing spandex tights..."

Sandra: "I just don't get how they couldn't know it's him...he's just wearing glasses....it's just glasses people!!!"

Sandra: "He's such a show off flying all around like that." Me: "Yeah, I'd do it too if I could...except I'd fly funny banners from my ankles...."

Also, that poor guy Lois is engaged to...same actor from The Notebook! That poor boy is destined to fall in love with girls that love other men...and he's such a hot nice boy too!! What's the deal?? If that were real life he'd have turned all bitter and women-hater by now. And possibly gay.

Overall, the movie was ok, but the ending dragged out too long...perhaps I'm just mad cause we originally went to go see Pirates Of The Carribean 2. Sold out...a likely story.

It's 2:34 am and I'm off to bed to dream about being a superhero whose cape keeps getting stuck in the phone booth.