Seriously, guys, they're my number four favourite...

Titles are so mainstream...

Do you know what I loathe? Tough decisions!!

Also, flying.

Let me tell ya, if you want to travel with a hair dryer and curling iron in your carry on luggage, questions are going to be raised. Also, it was a delight to have three airport officials dig through my bag, examining everything from my Spanx to my Archie comics.

And that was before I had a blog.

Who knows what kind of file the "man" has amassed on me... If you take everything I've ever looked at on the internet, every purchase I've ever made, everything I ever said on Facebook, Twitter, text, MSN, email, ICQ, Livejournal, this very blog... well...

Ya, this is going to be one of those nights where the post just goes nowhere...

And now we play the waiting game...

Aww... the waiting game sucks! Let's play hungry hungry hippos.

Today's the big day. Throw down. House jam. Box social.

I couldn't sleep last night. It felt like Christmas Eve. And this morning, I came bounding up the stairs, "Today's the day, it's finally here!!"

And somehow, miraculously, I am ready. Got my hair did, brows plucked and nails done. Called Irish, "OK, I have 2 hours to kill til Grey is in the city. How can I most effectively use these 2 hours to make this party even awesomer?"

"Grab a deck of cards," she replied.

"It's not going to take me 120 minutes to locate a goddamn pack of cards. Gawd!"

So I painted my nails, ate lunch with the parents, and realized this was probably a perfect opportunity to blog. Also, still haven't grabbed the cards!

So tonight, I shall drink my face off until I puke, in honour of Grey's and my birthdays. Your welcome.

No music today. I'm weary after crafting a 4-hour perfect party-playlist. And all the goddamn cooking. The birthday girl should never volunteer to be both caterer and deejay...

*O. I gots me a boyfriend. NBD.

Preparations must be made!

What my family is doing to prepare for the Apacolypse...

1. Mom is reading 1984 and contemplating a motorcycle licence.

2. Bro is quitting smoking and working out.

3. My Dad is building sheds on the compound.

Goddamn birthdays...

Can't sleep.

Feeling terribly insecure.

I hate myself when I feel like this.

I think I'm ovulating.

And by last night, I mean several weeks ago...

I really need more nerds in my life. I do pride myself on being a geek, and socializing with fellow dweebs, but when your computer gets infected with a virus, you quickly realize you're just pretenders, hangers-on.

What I  needed last night was a good-ol-fashioned dork, proficient in all the geek-arts.

By the end of the night, I had made up my mind to take it into a shop in the morning, and pay some geek to fix it for me. Gotta unsolvable problem? Throw money at it!!

But then Irish puts it into my head that I can fix it myself... Sure, it's a slightly complex virus, that needs more loving attention than a quick fix. But it's also a well-known virus. After sleeping on it, I awake, resolved to fix it myself. After all, why pay someone to do something you can do yourself?

It's kinda lost its timelyness...

Have ya seen {this} ??!!?

Here are some of my favourite lyrics...

Rebecca Black - Friday                                                              

7am, waking up in the morning                                              
Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs                                      
Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal                                  
Seein’ everything, the time is goin’                                         
Gotta get down to the bus stop
Gotta catch my bus, I see my friends (My friends)


Notice most narritive songs don't start with the alarm clock? There are a million-and-one boring moments in ones day. Eating cereal and waiting for the bus? Boring. You don't hear Beyonce whining about waiting in line at the ATM before going to the club.

Kickin’ in the front seat
Sittin’ in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up
Which seat can I take?

OK, everyone knows shot-gun is the primo spot, so really, a moot-point. And who the hell is picking up a 13-year-old chick at the bus stop? Although, I envy the girl, if this is the hardest decision she has to make all day.

It’s Friday, Friday
Gotta get down on Friday
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend
Friday, Friday
Gettin’ down on Friday
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)
Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Lookin’ forward to the weekend

This sounds like it was written by someone who has never actually attended a party. Or, a three year old. Or random shit I would sing pregaming it, while doing my make up.
Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday
Today i-is Friday, Friday (Partyin’)
We-we-we so excited
We so excited
We gonna have a ball today

OK. She's not even using real sentences any more. "We so excited"? Seriously? How is this even remotely passable?

Tomorrow is Saturday
And Sunday comes after...wards
I don’t want this weekend to end

Now the song takes an educational twist. Yesterday was Thursday. Tomorrow is Saturday. And Sunday comes afterwords. Wednesday was the day before last. Tuesday was before that. After Sunday will be Monday. Then guess what? Tuesday again. Then it's just three more days until Friday. Friday. Friday. Fun. Fun. Fun. Partyin'. Partyin'. Partyin'.

This song goes nowhere. 

Sad, hurt, angry and upset...

Originally posted in January...

So.... I'm not having sex.

Like right now for instance. I'm blogging and listening to Mr. Bruce Springstein like the hurtbag I am.

Like, I haven't had sex in a year.

OK, more accurately, I haven't had sex this year.

Let's not call this a manbbatical, but I'm def. taking a break from idiots and assholes.

Before this post turns into a BLAH, BLAH, BLAH I'm ooooolllllld, men suuuuuckkkk, will I die alllooooonnnee? Boohoo, Bridget Jones pity-party... I'd just like to point out that even the best of them with even the best of intentions, are essentially, cocks who think with their cocks.

So without further adieu (and because, shockingly, too many people read this blog for me to post details) here's another vague teaser, "Everything I need to know about men I learned in college"

Ironically posted six months later...

I've learned how to back-date posts.

Which probably means I will just procrastinate and then fill in the gaps at a later date.

I'm a busy journalist, what can I say.

Published six months after the fact...

Well. You know how it is by now. I stop posting when life gets interesting. Sorry that I'm too busy living my life to blog about living my life.

Besides. There are just certain things that a lady n'er blogs about.


And as for the report card? Exceeded expectations.

*editor's note: this is about sex! teeheehee. Aww... this was the makings of a delightful free ride...

Still accepting applications...

Good news! Tonight I assembled my "team alpha" in preparation for the end of the world. 10 people made the cut.

There are, literally, 10 people in my life that I would want to try and hack it with in a post-apocalyptic society.

(If curious... Thrifty, Irish, Brown, Grey, Silver, The Biebs, Sky, Irish Senior, Emm-double-you... you've been selected for your skills, strength, bravery, hilariousness and attractiveness)


(That's only nine, isn't it... you can assume you're the 10th ;)

In other news... I'm really into reading Mormon Mommy blogs right now.

How is this song equally awesome, whether I'm weepy and depressed or jubilant and content?



Also, need a tuxedo.

Surprised... AND delighted? I'm in...

I'm addicted to Google Analytics. I can't wait to come home and check it. I check it before Facebook even.

It's just so much delicious statistics! Hooray for math!

*Whine* why doesn't anyone comment other than Thrifty! She ain't my only reader! Maybe what I'll start doing is only blogging about half a sex-shenanigan and then will leave you hanging and unsatisfied until you coment inquiring more details.

*whoa! editor's note* that was meant to say sexy-shenanigan.

I'm really starting to feel like this is a one-way relationship. I'm doing all the work here, entertaining you and spilling my guts.

Also, Thrifty, I pledge to start responding to your comments.

Oh, so ya. It's ma beeday. I am, officially, old. It's time to put on some pants and be a grown-up.

The original stalker...

In October, election night, I signed up for a Google Analytics account. So I could monitor you scoundrels.

Then, completely forgot about it. Until last night. Where I completed the final step in the sign-up process.

So, in short, all of your moves are being tracked, as we speak.


I can seeeeee you!


Also, have double the amount of readers I thought I had... huh...

I'm relieved she didn't eat them...

*April Fools Update*

Text message from Mummy this morning:

"Cookies were terrible, hard as dog biscuits. Broke my tooth."

Bwahahaha

*Further update*

She was so distracted by our comedy stylings, that she forgot to pack her spagetti!! WIN!

Currently gorging self on chocolate, don't mind me...

Well it's that time of year again. It's ma beeday, so time for your regularly-scheduled nervous-breakdown and the subsequent re-evaluation of my life.

April Fools?

April Fools Day "hijinx", narry a shenanigan...

Ah, April Fools Day. My favourite holiday. I loooove me a good prank. I'm more of a spontaneous prankster, however.

I mean, April Fools Day is kinda like Valentine's Day. I like to show my love all-year-round. I don't need a Hallmark-holiday to tell me when to say 'I love you'.

And the way I show my mother that I love her is by pranking her each and every April Fool's Day.

Now, my mother. I tell her it says 'gullible' on the ceiling and she looks up. When we were kids we used to play this game. It was called, 'pretend to drive away'.

It was Dad's favourite game. My mother would return the shopping buggy, or finish up paying, or whatever, and Dad would drive away with Bro and I shrieking peals of laughter in the back seat. But she always fell for it. (And Dad would double-back, picking up a very exasperated mother.)

While we love to prank her throughout the year, the big event is Christmas. Bro, Dad and I get together, and plot a beauty of a Christmas prank.

But April Fool's Day, we like to keep it low-key. Just a token-prank, cause she's expecting it.

Usually, we just put some fake worms on her alarm clock. But, Dad's been on a toy-purging rampage. Even the Leggos are gone. The creepy crawler oven is long gone (which was, essentially, a prankster machine).

So, we got to brainstorming (and it was a damn good thing I was there to say, 'No Bro. I don't think disconnecting the fuse in her room is a good idea.')

In the end, we threw some dog cookies in a ziplock bag, with a note that they were baked by Angel (a mutual friend of ours. Who is an excellent baker. And in the past, has given us unfamiliar cookies)

Bro and I are a little concerned that Mom may actually fall for it, and eat a frackin' dog cookie. Boy will she be mad.

Other rejected prank ideas:

Replacing her toothbrush with a fork.
Hiding all the towels in the house.
Take all the food out of the fridge.
Eat all her yogurt.
Put a dog cookie in her yogurt.
Disconnect her light switch.
I'm not working with much here, folks.

*ATTENTION* today I used a free coffee... and I WON another coffee... mind, BLOWN.