Sunday, December 23, 2007

Merry Xmas

Yes, it's kind of odd to start out an Xmas post with a picture of Karolina Kurková, but I can't help but love this girl. Flipping through an Xmas Victoria's Secret catalogue is a surefire way to get in the spirit of the holidays (after all, who doesn't imagine themselves in sexy Mrs. Clause underwear, hanging stockings naughtily by the fire?)

Maybe that's just me.

Anyway, Karolina has always been my favourite Victoria's Secret model. Sure, she's gorgeous, they all are (especially Alessandra Ambrosio ) but there is something about this model's large, white teeth and natural tendancy to smile that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. In the least non-lesbian way, anyway.

That aside, this is a Xmas post...so MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! And no, I am NOT PC, and I am not gonna dumb it down into "happy holidays" - we all know about Christmas, whether we are Christians are not. So there! I hope it's all big, merry and bright for you all!

PS - who is YOUR favourite Victoria's Secret model and why? Come on guys (and gals), put the wrapping paper down and take a moment...:P

Friday, December 21, 2007

Baby Got Back (her boots)

DING DONG!

Guess what UPS dropped off at our condo's doorstep the other night?



MY BOOTS!


As some of you may recall, I wrote a post awhile back about the traumatic experience of losing my precious Bata boots in Italy, just a week after I had bought them.

Many of you wrote in with your condolences and even suggestions and offerings of help. I even hit up a few up my friends who were in Paris and Vienna, but alas, despite their efforts, the boots were nowhere to be found.

I can't believe my eyes!


My hunch was that the Bata boots were ONLY available in Italy, which posed a great problem. I didn't know anyone in Italy.

So I scoured the interweb and searched for a personal shopper out of Rome. After querying a few of them, my angel was sent to me. Barbara Lessona is a young, fiesty personal shopper who operates out of Rome. I will write more on her and the services she offers on my other blog shortly (because, if you are looking for a great time/shopping spree in Rome, PLEASE seek her out, she is amazing) so I will get to the point here.

Barbara scoured Rome for me and was able to find one pair, in my size too. She bought them for me and I wired her the money through my bank. All was well until we came to the problem of shipping.

DHL charged an arm and a leg to ship the boots from Rome to Vancouver. After all, it's not easy to smuggle Italian leather goods out of the country without paying hefty duty fees ON TOP of a hefty shipping fee.

Luckily we came to a sort of madcap agreement. Barbara would give the boots to her pilot friend who was flying to Argentina, with a few days stop over in New York. He would take the boots to New York and then I would arrange for UPS to pick up the boots from the concierge at his hotel and ship to it where I am now, in Palm Springs.

It almost seemed too easy.

OK, it was a huge pain in the ass, both on her end and on my end. But in the end, I got my boots the cheapest way possible and my life is now complete :P (well, at least in a boots-kinda way)


The End


To read more about my personal shopping saviour, click here

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

NYE

Greetings from Palm Springs, y'all!

Yup, I'm down here in sunny California for Xmas and so far, so good. Of course, why shouldn't it be, I've escaped the rain and am looking forward to sunning myself daily in our highly modern, art deco condo complex and shopping at premium outlet stores (Desert Hills is fabulous and I for one can't wait to hit up the True Religion store).

But of course, the ten days I choose to join my parents down here is also the ten days in which my boyfriend's band played a prominent, last minute show at the Roxy (which I missed, last night), another friend is having a party and of course, Xmas itself. I'm glad to spend it with my family (I didn't last year because I was in Scotland) but it's a bit sad to not be with my boyfriend on that special day...maybe more sad is the fact that I am missing all the fun times they are having and I will be forced to see all the pictures on Facebook. I'm really hoping to avoid any "mistletoe" pictures with his friends, as harmless as they would be, it wouldn't be fun to see while I'm all the way down here - such is why I am trying to avoid Facebook all this week).

But I am keeping my eyes on the prize: New Years Eve!

The Rockstar is having a party at his house and I am very excited. I plan to look fabulous...more so than usual (since I always plan to look good). It helps that so far, no one has noticed ANY weight loss from me (despite wearing just a corset and a short leather skirt for my Courtney Love Bday last Friday), which just spurs me on to lose as much weight as possible while I am here. Also, there is a certain ...er...bitch...that will be at the party. This girl is 22, a dark-haired, snarky, sarcastic artist who has always been sorta friends with my bf (and sorta almost slept with everyone in the band, except for him of course) and, well, she sorta hates me. Yup, I could give countless examples of her saying bad things about me and the way she openly hangs off my boyfriend whenever I'm around, but I'll just leave them be. Anyhoo, my bf and I can't figure out why she hates me so much. The only thing we've got is that she thinks I'm some sorta trophy girlfriend, some hot blonde with no humour and no brains and she's out to make me look like an idiot (she also obviously has a slight thing for my bf too).

Well I'm not going to get into a war of wit or brains with her, because I'm not sure how that would work (play Trivial Pursuit? Get in an insulting match?) but I can sure as hell look good and looking good I shall look. Or something.

Anyhoo, I have my whole look picked out. I ordered this smashing dress from BCBG Mazx Azaria on Ebay:



Selling in stores for $364, I managed to snag it for $50. It arrived the other day and it is simply gorgeous. Only problem is, the dress is a size medium and though the bottom half fits fine, the corsety top is like 2 sizes too big. There is no way I could wear it without the top falling down when I walked (doesn't help that my boobs shrunk either), so we had to take it to a tailor today. Luckily the lady is able to take it in before I leave back home - and take it in she will. There is 2 inches from each side that have to go!

Then I purchased this gorgeous, cheapo bag from Target:



I didn't see the shoes, but the bag is a wonderful red. You might think that red might not go with yellow, but I can show you where I am getting my inspiration from:



See how beautifully Reese's red shoes go with her yellow dress? That's the look I'm going for (at least in purse form). Taking further inspiration, my bangs and hair are going to look like her, and I might swipe on a light coat of matching red lipstick (and forgo the bronzey, smokey eye I was orginally going to do...what do you think??)

Maybe I'm putting too much thought in my NYE outfit, but I want the evening to go just right. After all, it's the Rockstar and mine's 6 months anniversary at Midnight.

Most of all, I just want to look hot - better than I've ever looked and I want someone to notice that I've lost weight. I mean, 8 pounds is a lot, I don't care what some people say and my parents were the first people to comment on how much I've shrunk. So I am hoping that by exercising everyday at the state-of-the-art gym they have here, doing my yoga DVD and sticking to my diet (which, despite it being the holidays, is still easy to adhere to), I'll be able to be atleast 2 or 3 pounds lighter come the New Year. Maybe no one will still notice (maybe always wearing flowly, empire waisted tops in the months before this fooled people into thinking I was already thin) but hell, I know I'll feel good!

(of course, today I woke up feeling sick with a sore throat - but hell, I'm still gonna drag my ass to the gym!)

Thursday, December 13, 2007

The Secrets of My Success...so far

So last post I talked about how I'm finally getting in good shape by finding a workout and diet that I like and enjoy.

Today I will elaborate more on that because as of this morning, I stepped on the scale and it registered 130.0 pounds. Suspicious, I stepped on my other scale (less accurate) and it says I weight 125. I'm gonna go with the better scale because that other one can't be right but regardless I am a happy camper.

You see, 4 weeks ago I weighed 138. Through a lot of effort and hard work and restraint, I have lost 8 pounds - and I'm aiming for another 5 more.

How did I do it?

Well, as you know I've always struggled with my weight. I guess in some ways I was lucky because I pretty much ate what I wanted and didn't exercise which left me with a "healthy" build. But I didn't feel healthy and I didn't look healthy. All I could see was my pooch sticking out, love handles, big ass, fat arms. Oh my fat fat arms. WHY COULDN'T THE EIGHT POUNDS COME OFF OF YOU?????

Anyhoo, I did numerous things to try and lose weight. I started running in the mornings and afternoons - but I didn't do it for very long and I wasn't pushing myself. I tried to eat no carbs on the weekdays and anything I wanted on the weekends. But that did me no good. I started lifting weights twice a week, but I just felt bigger and fatter...and more frustrated. You remember when I did Cardio Core Bootcamp in March? Well during that month I BARELY lost inches and I gained weight. Yeah, it was muscle. But muscle under fat which made me feel like a cow.

Also, my main problem was motivation. See, I would see an event a month off and be, YEAH! I'm gonna work out everyday and diet so I can lose the weight in time. And then a week into it, a month would seem so long and I would lose interest and it would just die. I had a hard time keeping the momentum.

So, I came up with a goal. This Friday, the 14th I was to have my birthday party. The theme was Rockstar (or popstar, whatever) and so you had to dress up as such. I decided I wanted to be Avril Lavigne* (cuz it was easy though I hate her guts) and decided I couldn't wear the wifebeater and cargo pants with my fat arms and gut hanging out.

This was a month ago. I decided I needed a real plan for a month...and I needed added incentives in between. So I joined the Self Challenge at Self.com (it's free) and made little mini goals for myself. I wanted to lose 2 pounds a week, and so I didn't lose motivation, I decided my first goal post was to be 4 pounds lighter for my boyfriend's concert on December 1st. By breaking up my goal in two, I found it easier to stick to.

What did the Self Challenge consist of? Well, they give you a diet plan and exercises to do, but I made it my own.

I dropped the weights FOREVER and took up YOGA. My experiences over the last month with yoga are worth another post, but let's say I love it. It makes me feel happy, high and grounded. I feel constantly challenged and I love how my muscles are developing lean and long. Not only that, but it definitely helps me with my disability. I am a bonafide yogi for life now.

With yoga being done twice a week, I added the cardio. This came in the form of SPINNING. Yup, the grandest calorie burner of them all. Again, my spinning experiences over the last month are worth a post itself, but I've finally found a workout I enjoy. I used to hate sweating, now I'm dissapointed if I don't sweat buckets during each class. I love the feeling of swearing at my teacher under my breath yet knowing that I am getting the greatest workout of all. The spinning I have added to my workout on average of 3 or 4 times a week, in the evenings (classes are either 45 or 60 min long).

Last but not least, there is the diet. This is where the Self challenge came most in handy. On their website, not only do you enter what excercise you did (and they calculate your calorie burn) but you enter what food you ate.

I mean. EVERY. SINGLE. THING. YOU. ATE.

According to Self, they wanted you on a 1,600 calorie a day diet but I said fuck that, I'm going big or going home. I cut my calories to under 1000 the first week until I realized my body couldn't retain that much longer. I upped it up to 1200 (as they say, you shouldn't go below 1200 or your body thinks you are starving and you won't lose any weight) and now I am quite happy here.

What's amazing is that by recording every bite of everything (had a spoon full of ice cream the other night: 45 calories) for a month, you become hyper aware of what you can eat and can't eat. This diet doesn't restrict anything, keep that in mind, I mean I could eat an entire box of KD Mac and Cheese...(that's about 800 calories, believe me, I've contemplated it) but it would also mean that I would be pretty miserable for the rest of the day. For 100 calories I could have one of those 100 cal Doritos packs - which is mighty tasty - but knowing I'll just be hungrier afterwards, I'll have two crispbreads with Boursin Lite Cheese instead (two tablespoons worth).

Yeah, it's a pain measuring out exactly two teaspoons of butter for my morning waffles (don't get me started on the time I had to figure out how many yam fries were in a bag so I could calculate how many fries equaled one portion) but it's worth it. And you get used to it (though it took me awhile to fall asleep in the first week because all i thought about was food!).

I know all of this sounds boring but if you are looking for something that works, I suggest you visit Self.com. Unfortunately I am not one of those people who can naturally look hot by eating whatever they want and not exercising. I have to work for it...but now with my perkier, more compact ass, whittled waist and firmer thighs, I don't mind the effort**. Sadly, no one has really noticed my weight loss except for my boyfriend's mother, my boyfriend and myself...then again, I've kinda been keeping the sleeker areas covered up. Damn you fat arms!

Oh and before any of you sweet souls tell me I don't need to lose weight, I know I don't NEED to. I mean, I'm not a model or anything. But I WANT to, I'm doing it so I feel good about myself and it's working!









Left: Month ago
Right: Last Saturday









*Screw Avril Lavigne. I'm now going as a completely high and whored out Courtney Love, complete with ripped fishnets, bedhead, smeared lipstick and trackmarks!

**This extreme calorie counting and working out isn't forever. When I've reached my goal weight, I can maintain it by doing yoga twice a week, maybe a spin class once in awhile and eating around 2000 calories a day. I'm looking forward to it:)

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

That time of the year again...

Yup.

It's my birthday.

Betya thought I was gonna say Xmas, didn't you?

No folks, turns out that I was born on this day, 26 years ago.

26 years! Holy crap, that's a lot of years. Well, to my young, virginal brain it is.

Anyhoo, when I saw this event coming up, I thought I would blog about all the things in my life that were lacking...everything that I thought a 26 year old woman should have and then moan about how I don't have them.

I mean, as I sit here now, it's true that I am DEFINITELY NOT where I thought I would be at 26. I thought I would have a burgeoning career in a field that I loved. At least, had been working towards something for the past few years. But that hasn't been the case with me. At this exact moment, I have an uncertain future (who doesn't), no job and no real sense of accomplishment.

But you know what? It doesn't matter.

I went to bed last night thinking (and believing) that 26 is going to be a great age for me. I may lack a career at the moment, but I am going into school in a field that not only do I love but I am good at as well.

My income from the government will run out soon, but at least come May, I will be getting a job in the film business (and I do mean, BUSINESS). Maybe it won't be steady, maybe it won't make me rich - but at least it's something I've always wanted to do.

Maybe I am not married or engaged like so many of my friends (or maybe it just feels that way), but I have no doubt that it will happen and I am beyond grateful to have the world's best man by my side.

I might not live in Paris, or London or New York - but at least I actually own my apartment (even though I've been thinking lately about selling next year and upgrading to a bigger one).

I might not have degrees upon degrees like people who went to university straight after high school. But I do have my Bachelor in Journalism, which despite its uselessness, is SOMETHING to show for. And I'm not regretting all the traveling I did while slowly earning that degree either.

Yup, I think 26 is going to be a great age for me...and I'm already off to a great start for I will be in the best shape of my life. So far, I've lost 6 pounds of pure FAT in the last 3 weeks, thanks to my modified version of the Self challenge, which involves the only workouts that actually work for my body plus eating in moderation (I'll be sure to share my secrets in the next post, so watch out for that if you are interested). Anyway, the fact is I have become somewhat addicted to my workouts and will be certain to continue them through the next year until I am a smokin hot lean machine ;P

Bring on the late twenties!

(OK, maybe that's a bit too harsh for my ears, but at least bring on 26!)

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Just another manic meltdown

I totally lost it yesterday. I mean, lost it as in crying hysterically, kicking the washing machine till it feels like my toe is broken, screaming in an empty house, tearing my hear out kind of way.


Where do I begin?


For starters, I have known for quite awhile that the Rockstar's awesome parents were planning taking him and I and his sister and her bf out for a very nice dinner this coming Saturday.

His mother then invited us to come over to their house early so we could help decorate the tree. I jumped on this one because I'm sure the tree will be stately, the decorations will be fab and I wasn't going to have a tree this year cuz I'm going to Palm Springs for Xmas, so I would never have a chance to put one up. Plus, this way, it's all fun in decorating AND I don't have to take it down.

Anyway, I was excited about this prospect, as well as dressing up to go to a fancy dinner.

Then the rockstar's best friend's birthday popped up. His gf was secretly planning a dinner for him that night. Of course, we could not go because we were already going to dinner with his parents. That was fine, but it was kind of annoying that the Rockstar seems to miss out a lot on his friend's plans, mainly because since he moved out, they tend to have their stuff local and not out in FunCity, where we are.

This was all fine until Rockstar said that his BF was now going to rent an ice-rink on Sunday.

My heart froze. Count me out, I said. I could tell that he kinda wanted me there, but ice-skating is not my idea of a fun time (and you'll soon find out why). But I wasn't too fussed, since it would be on Sunday, and I could just go home and do my own thing...let him go lame-ass skating if he wanted to (btw, who the hell goes ice-skating for their birthdays these days?)

Then yesterday he finds out that the skating is actually going be on Saturday, late (like from 11-midnite) so we would be able to go after dinner. But I don't want to go. I don't want to dress up, have a nice few glasses of wine and a big gourmet meal and then go...ice-skating. But it seemed I would have no choice, ESPECIALLY when we found out that the parents were renting a LIMO to take us from their house to the restaurant and back (which is at least 45 min away).



Yes, that's right. My BF's parents are taking us to dinner in a limo.



That's amazing. But it meant that I would be stuck in Tsawwassen that night which then meant I would have to go ice-skating.

Here is the thing. I can't ice-skate. I physically can't. You know my previous post about not being able to stand on my toes or on one leg? Well, I have no balance, I have weak ankles and ice-skating just doesn't work. I was born with club feet, as some of you know, and it is times like this that I am reminded of the deep scars that run up my ankles, the fact that I am too ashamed to even wear sandals and the fact that my feet keep me from doing many, many things that other people can.

For the most part, I'm OK. I am disabled in that sense and I am used to it. This is why despite wanting to be a ballerina growing up, I never could. Instead, I did horseback riding which turned out great for me anyway. But there are everyday things that I just can't do and ice-skating is one of them.



Of course, I could just sit on the bench and watch people skate around the rink. But just that thought alone brought back horrible, horrible memories of Junior High, where the gym teachers would physically MAKE me skate until my ankles almost broke and where I would have to sit on the sidelines, humilated, while the other kids made fun of me, the way I walked, the fact that I couldn't skate, that I was different, etc. Not fun for a 12 year old girl.

And so, for whatever reason, this whole ice skating issue brought all these old issues forward. My bf was at work, so I could only communicate by text how I felt but that only covered the PR version of things. At home at my parents house, where I was using their laundry machine while they are away, I let it loose. Suddenly I couldn't stop crying, screaming, freaking out. And then I had to drive home like that, as I had to beat the traffic. It's a wonder I didn't get in an accident.

I'm sure a lot of you "normal" girls are wondering what the big deal is. You take for granted that you can wear skirts and 4-inch stilettos and frolic on the beach. Honestly, if you haven't had something like this, you won't know and you won't understand and maybe you should just stop reading now, lest you think I'm some whiney little cunt who gets angry when she can't do something.

I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I know there is so much I can't do and yet, for a girl who was in casts up to her thighs for the first six years of her life, there is a lot that I can do too. But what's interesting is how this made me realize how much I deal with my disability each and everyday. I just never notice, I guess I just shove it aside and move on. And suddenly, one thing, ice-skating, and it all comes flooding out.

This is probably why I will never have high self-esteem, why I try SO DAMN HARD to be perfect in everyway...because I know how IMPERFECT I am....I'm doing my hardest to make up for the deficit. And that's why, when I feel like I am not pretty or thin enough or sexy enough (and that;s everyday) it hits me really hard. It's just adding insult to injury.

Thankfully, this has a happy solution. My bf's sister said she would get drunk with me at the local bar if he went skating and as it turns out my Rockstar would rather do that than going skating at any rate.

And as I got back from my spin class last night (which despite being puffy faced and weak, I still managed to go to) I was surprised to discover a very long, very spontaneously wonderful message from my love in my Facebook inbox (edited):

You might not think you're perfect but I certainly do, I think you're perfect just the way you are. Further proof I love you is that I accept everything about you with open arms, and honey with you, it's so easy. You're so easy to get along with and I still think you're the most beautiful person I"ve ever laid eyes on. It only makes more sense that we're together when I find out you're insecure about certain things because lord knows I am too, and we get that about each other which is what makes us stronger. I've never stopped thinking about you from the moment I met you and I can't imagine it happening. Each time I see you I'm reminded of how cute and hot and adorable you are, I feel like I can spazz out all I want and you'll just smile that pretty smile of yours and you can't top that. Don't ever stop staring at me adoringly because I'll never get sick of seeing those big beautiful brown eyes looking across the table at me. Don't ever change who you are because that's who I'm madly in love with and bettering yourself is one thing but you have to really have flaws to think you need a serious "makeover" and I have yet to see any real ones or ones that don't just make me love you more.

*Sniff*

I normally wouldn't post such a personal thing, but I know he has access to this blog and believe me, I've left a lot more, uh, personal stuff out. It's just so amazing to feel so badly about yourself and to have someone in your life who makes up for all that bad stuff.


Despite all these problems of mine, having him in my life does make everything seem...perfect.

Monday, December 03, 2007

Tagged, I'm it.

OK so I was recently tagged by both Girl About Town AND Tawcan so I figured I would kill two birds with one stone by posting both of them here. And no, I won't be tagging anyone else. Tag is an exhausting game.

I'll start with the hard stuff...Eight Random Facts about....
Me


*I have an older brother that I never ever blog about. It's a complicated relationship to say the least and we are not very close at all. I doubt we ever will be.

*I'm a Christian but half the time I ashamed to admit it. Not because of what I believe in, but because of other judgemental Christians who ruin the religion for everyone. I feel like when I tell people I am Christian, I am judged by non-Christians who think I am an uptight, judgemental prude and also judged by other Christians who think I'm less than they are because I'm NOT an uptight, judgemental prude. Like my Facebook religion status says, I am the "Bad ass variety." Like it or lump it.

*I have TV and cable but aside from the occasional DVD I'll pop in there, I never watch it.

*I went three years without having any sex. Now, my sex drive is higher than all the boyfriend's I've had. I symphathize with all you 18-year old boys out there - it can be incredibly frustrating.

*I've always been blonde. Except for 6 months in Grade 12 where my hair was a red-brown. In fact, that's my hair color in my yearbook picture and it pisses me off to this day.

*I can't stand on my toes and usually can't stand on one leg without falling over.

*I love it when my boyfriend forgets his shirt or sweater at my place. I love the smell of him.

*I used to be 39 pounds heavier after I backpacked through Australia when I was 18. I have no idea how I gained the weight, but I did. When I got back, a guy "friend" of mine said I would be the hottest girl in town, if I wasn't so FAT. Even though I've lost the weight, that comment has always stayed with me and I don't think I'll ever be hot unless I have the body of Jessica Biel (I'm working on it, but that's for the next post :P)

This next tag involves taking my middle name and coming up with something about myself corresponding to each letter. I have two middle names, Emma Anastazia, so I think I will stick with Emma...

E - is for Embarrass. I tend to embarrass quite easily. Even times when I don't actually feel embarrassed, my face will still go all red and hot and THEN I end up feeling it anyway.

M - is for makeup. I love it. I went to school for Makeup for TV and Film back in 2000 and it was a lot of fun, though I discovered I really like to put it on myself and not so much on other people (although I did do my good friend's wedding a few months back and I thought she looked gorgeous, thank goodness). I have tons of makeup, buy all the big and small name brands and know everything there is to know. I think I could actually teach a course on it. There is just nothing that can change a girls look and mood like makeup can. Sometimes when I put it on, I feel like I can be a whole other person. Although as I have gotten older, I find I don't tend to actually wear it everyday.

M - is for manners. I believe I have very good manners and I believe manners is an extremely underated quality. A man with good manners will win me over everytime. The only thing I need to work on is trying to cut and eat my food without switching my knife and fork around!

A - is for apologetic. Maybe it's the Canadian in me, but I will apologize even when someone ELSE steps on MY foot!


Happy Monday everyone!

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Only in my dreams...

Things with the Rockstar can't get any better. For the 6 months that I have known him, and the 5 that we have been together, I am absolutely floored at how well things are going. Sure, there is the occasional problem but when I tell people what our "problem" is, they reply with "If that's your only "problem," consider yourself lucky."

In fact, just last night I was talking about something in particular with a good friend (and his ex) and she couldn't help but blurt out, "Yeah boo hoo, that must put a damper on your totally perfect relationship."

Our relationship is not perfect (and that's 80% due to me being nuts) but my boyfriend IS perfect. At least, he is perfect for me and that's probably why we fall more and more in love with each other each day. He is the first boyfriend that I have trusted 100% with all my heart. This is the easiest relationship ever, for both of us, and we both tell each other every day how lucky we are to have found each other.

Awwwww.

Right, so here is something interesting and I can't help but wonder if this has happened to anyone else...

I always have very vivid dreams and I remember them quite well. Well, in my dreams my boyfriend is ALWAYS a COMPLETE ASSHOLE!

Without fail, everytime the Rockstar is in my dream he is the world's biggest jerk. He is constantly dumping me, breaking my heart, proposing to mutual friend's of ours, being an A-hole to me, saying mean things, cheating, being disrespectful and more.

And everytime I wake up I feel devestated. The pain (and anger) I feel in my dreams is SO real that I often awake with a clenched jaw and fists. And then it takes me quite awhile for these feelings to wear off. I'll start my morning being completely pissed off at him because of something he did in my dream. I mean, I know it's not at all his fault that dream boyfriend is a complete bastard but I still can't help but feel what I felt in those dreams.

Luckily my boyfriend knows about dream boyfriend and is extra extra sweet on those days when I have trouble telling reality from dreamland. And it is such a wonderful feeling when I finally realize that my Rockstar is the complete opposite from dream version. I once again, thank my lucky stars for him.

But I have to know....why is dream boyfriend such an ass? Because things are going so well, so smoothly, am I subconciously afraid that he is going to dump me out of nowhere like my ex did or turn into an asshole while he's fooled me with his perfect boyfriend exterior? I have no idea...

Funnily enough, my best friend Kelly is ALWAYS a bitch in my dreams too. But apparently she says that whenever ANYONE dreams about her, they always say she's always a bitch. Dream bitch Kelly, we call her.

I'm just waiting for the night when Dream bitch Kelly and Dream Jerk Boyfriend both gang up on me. Hopefully though I'll have my trusty lightsaber and pet Velociraptor, so I'll be able to defend myself, with the help of Jimmy Smits and Cameron Diaz....

Friday, November 23, 2007

It's official!

My university degree came in the mail yesterday.

Sounds pretty lame but the fact was I never attended the ceremonies to pick it up in person. But there it is...I officially have had my Bachelor of Journalism since July 2007.

Which is great, because I have been telling people I have had it since April 2006. Meh.

Regardless, this USELESS degree, has taken a good seven years to acquire. Sure, I could have had it all done in four, but who knows what other useless degree I would have walked out with (Paleontology, anyone?). I took those seven years to figure out what I really wanted to do (which, ironically, isn't journalism), and DID what I really wanted to do, which was travel to my heart's content.

And so, I did it. A year at college doing general studies, a year working, a year at film school, a year traveling, a year in New Zealand studying Communications, a year of traveling, and then two years of Journalism school, followed by a year of working, traveling and attempting to finish up my four correspondence courses (all of which were actually completed in a week - the rest of the year I had to do them was quite the waste).

And then a few months of meaning to apply for graduation but just procrastinating on it until about a month ago.

But, TA - DA! It has paid off and my useless degree which is propped up on my kitchen table makes me feel pretty darn good. I'm done with school forever!

Of course, that's a lie since I am going to school again in January. Yup, I was accepted and have already paid my deposit down for my VERY intense certificate in Entertainment Administration course. I'm very excited about this because it means I get to combine my journalism and "creative" film background with the business side of Show Business. Maybe look into doing a little film marketing?

Only drawbacks is that the course is supposed to be a year long and it's condensed into 13 weeks...which includes school on WEEKENDS! GAH! But thankfully you are done quicker and you step out with an internship, your certificate and a possible job.

Hopefully, that is, with the way I procrastinate :P


*Update*


To all of you worried about my apartment and my well-being, once again I must stress that I feel safe in my wee suite and this sort of situation can happen in any building at any time, UNLESS you have a concierge, but hell I can barely pay my mortgage, I'm not made of money.

Of course, there was a sign in the elevator today, stating that last night at 330 AM, a woman awoke to find an intruder inside her apartment. Apparently he climbed up through the balcony (it was unlocked). Luckily, I don't have a balcony. Although I would be screwed if Spiderman decided to visit.

*MORE UPDATES*

Happy Birthday to my mommy!!! 61 years young and enjoying it all in Palm Springs at the moment. I'll be joining her in December and I can't wait...it's getting freakin' cold here.

And for Simon, my travel blog has been updated ;)

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Irreplaceable

Have you ever had an item or a piece of clothing that you absolutely adored? And then one day, someone steals it while it's hanging on your laundry line, or you lend it to someone only to never see it again, or someone accidently knocks it over and it breaks into a million peices? Or you leave them in the overhead compartment on a bus in Italy, only to have the bus take off and despite you trying to track them down during your last days in Rome, you never ever see them again?

No? Maybe that last one is just me.

That's what happened to me in Italy, back in the end of August. I bought the most AMAZING pair of boots from Bata.

Rich, mahogany leather that shined with deep shades of chocolate and amber. A sexy yet sturdy cut with glinty gold hardware. They were the boots of my dreams.

For the whole time I had them, I only wore them once. The rest of the time I would just stroke them, stare at them, try them on with different outfits. I had never been in love with an item of clothing before. And it wasn't just me. When I wore them, everyone else would gawk and coo at them. It was...scrumtrulescent.

And then I went and lost them. Freakin' bus company said they never found them, though that is a complete lie. The bus driver must have and then took them home to his wife or something. Along with chocolate liquor and cannabis chocolate that I picked up in Perugia. And an awesome winter coat I picked up for 35€.

Sadly, I went to go buy the boots again but couldn't find them. I bought another pair, still sexy, but not the same. Then when I got home I scoured Ebay as well as Bata websites in France where I could convince a friend to pick them up for me. But alas, the websites dont have the boot either.

So, I think I have to admit that it's over. Perhaps it was God's way of letting me know that he frowns against worshipping a golden god that is a pair of boots. But I can't let go! I'll never let go! If only there was some personal shopper (Dawg, the Boot Hunter?) that could track them down in Europe for me, believe me I would pay extra for them.

Last known photograph


Anyone else ever lose anything so dear, or gone on a mission to replace something? Better yet, anyone have the number of a boot headhunter?

Monday, November 19, 2007

Apartment house sense

Today I turned on the heat. For the first time since March.

See, I was putting it off and putting it off because I had stuffed a fleece IKEA blanket down the heating vents so it would muffle sounds from the other apartment. I think it worked. Or maybe it was my mildly threatening note that worked. Either way, I have been ignoring the coming cold for the last few weeks because I knew that turning the heat on while having a blanket in the slots would probably equal fire. And that's not the heat that I want.

But today, I could feel the cold through the single-paned window and as my nose started to freeze up just by me sitting on my couch, I decided it was time. Winter, I guess, is on its way and having poorly insulated windows is just one of the fun problems I have with owning an apartment.

The rest have to do with my building (and as my building has provided plenty of blog fodder before, I am sure you will all know that). It always reminds me of this Paul Simon song:

"There's been some strange goin's on
And some folks have come and gone
And the elevator man don't work no more
I heard a racket in the hall
And I thought I heard a fall
But I never opened up my door
It's just apartment house sense
It's like apartment rents
Remember : one man's ceiling
is another man's floor
Remember: one man's ceiling
is another man's floor"

Let's look at the line, "I heard a racket in the hall, and thought I heard a fall, but I never opened up my door."

Friday night, my boyfriend and I were stumbling back home after a greasy late-night meal at Hamburger Marys. It was probably 3 AM.

As we get to my apartment, he tells me he is going around the building to the back so he can get his bag out of his car. He has his own key so he can get in the building, so I went for the front door. Just as we parted ways, we heard a scream. Followed by another scream. We both look at each other and then look up at the building from where the screams seem to be coming from. There are no lights on in any of the windows. Everything else is dark and silent.

The Rockstar just shrugs (meh) and heads to his car. I continue for the front-door, listening as I go. The screams have stopped and now it's just the sound of some woman crying.

I remember thinking to myself that it was probably a domestic disturbance or some drunk girl who just got dumped or something. Considering it was very late on a Friday night, I was sure alcohol was involved at any rate.

I try and shrug it off and get in the elevator.

It stops at my floor and as I get out, I hear a mild commotion to the right of me. I look over and around the corner of the hall I can see...

On the ground, a pair of women's legs from the knee down, sticking out from around the corner.

The rear end of a man who was apparently standing bent over the body.

And the voice of the man saying something along the lines of, "Oh shit, oh shit!"

I freeze for a split second and then realize that the man hasn't noticed I am there, so I quickly book it to my apartment and lock the door. I don't know why my first instinct was to run and not to help but it was. There was something so creepy and dangerous about it all that I had to get away and reevaluate. Meanwhile, I realize that my bf is coming up the elevator.

Suddenly I forsee him getting off and stepping out into the middle of a murder scene or something and getting his ass kicked...or worse. So I pick up the phone and call him. He answers.

"DON"T GET IN THE ELEVATOR!" I yell.

Turns out he was in fact already in the elevator but the elevator luckily stopped at another floor for no reason and he was able to jump out and take the stairs (which open right beside my apartment, out of the view of the elevator and the other hallway).

I usher him inside and explain what I saw. After we stand there debating for a few seconds, we decide to tiptoe back out there and see what is really going on, if we can help, etc.

So we do, only to find no one there at all. The apartment is eerily silent. We stand around and listen for a few minutes, only to creep back to the apartment, an imensely creepy feeling hanging over us.

Afterwards, I started to feel bad that my first reaction was to run and not help. I couldn't help it, I did not feel comfortable going around the corner and see what some big ass dude had just done to some chick. I also did not feel comfortable with my bf going there as well. But by checking it out together, I felt more protected. Still, I had to wonder why I didn't see any one else coming out of their apartments to see what all the screaming and commotion was about...

Maybe they know something I don't.

For example, a few weeks ago, the Rockstar was staying over. I think it was, again, a Friday night.

I'm a very light sleeper, so as soon as I heard my doorknob jingling at 4AM, I woke up with a start.

You know that creepy feeling when you just wake up out of a dream and it's dark and in the middle of the night? Well, now imagine you hear someone trying to get into your apartment. I was freaking the fuck out.

I look down at my bf, but as usual he is in a coma and snoring away. So I get up and tiptoe to the wall and peer around the corner at my front door (remember, I live in a studio, it's one L-shaped room).

I can see movement behind the peephole. And I can see my doorknob slowly turning up and down. And then I notice I forgot to put the chain across the door.

I run back over to the bf and wake him up. Or try to.

"There's someone at the door, someone's trying to break in, go lock the door!" I half-whisper/half-scream.

It takes a good minute to get him out of bed. I point at the door, fear in my eyes. He has sleep in his eyes and has no idea what is going on. Still, he stumbled over to the door, puts the chain across and goes back to bed.

"What are you doing? Someone is OUT THERE!" I hiss at him.

"What?"

"Why do you think I just told you to lock the door?"

It took a few more minutes of this before he was awake and realized exactly what was going on. So we then get up and tiptoe over to the door and cautiously look through the peephole. I was expecting someone's evil eye to pop up in view (perhaps that's from recently watching The Cable Guy) but there was nothing there.

Now, I know a lot of you are thinking that it was probably some drunk person on the wrong floor and thinking this was their apartment. But how coming I never heard a jingling of keys? How come they never knocked? And how come the doorknob was turned ever so quietly?

Plus, two months ago there was a sign posted on the front of our building. The usual, don't hold the door open for strangers followed by a personal note. Some couple in apartment 402 had written beneath it that they were sitting at home one night, watching TV, when their doorknob had started to turn repeatedly. Someone was trying to get it.

And then below that, someone else had written, "same thing happened to me, same night, I'm in apartment 707" and below that was scrawled, "Yup, same thing, thankfully my door was locked, they tried for awhile, apartment 1101."

There were about 20 different people writing beneath it, saying it all happened to them too. Apparently someone was trying people's doors on the off chance that one of them was unlocked.

Now, I always lock my door the minute I get inside. But still. Creeeeeeepy.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Miss Impulsive

This weekend, my lover and I went to Seattle. I had planned it about a month ago to have a nice little romantic trip, especially since the Rockstar hasn't even been to Seattle (which is unfathomable when you've lived in Vancouver your whole life....it's a 2 hour drive away!)

Of course, romantic trip soon turned into shopping spree. You see, you Americans may not know this (because most Seattleites didn't know this) but the Canadian dollar is now higher than your dollar. HA HA! That's right, after years of forking over extra to shop in the states (you do have better shopping, IMHO), our Loonie has gone above the US dollar and rests comfortably at 1.07. For the first time ever, it has become CHEAPER to shop down South.

As the man at the border said to us, "Have fun shopping. It's good for our economy."

He also said it in a dead-on George W. voice which was a little unnerving.

Anyway, it was our long weekend as well so we made sure we left with plenty of time. We woke up at the horrible hour of 630 (more horrible considering it was a Saturday) in order to reach the border by 745 AM. I drove like a maniac, thinking of how nice it was going to be to get there early and just cruise on through.

For some reason though, EVERYONE ELSE IN THE ENTIRE CITY OF VANCOUVER had this exact same idea. The main Peach Arch border crossing was backed up on to the highway. The truck crossing (where cars are welcome!) was backed up past the main intersection, spreading out in four different directions.

Both line-ups were over THREE HOURS LONG and I was quickly running out of gas. After waiting in line and NOT moving for 20 minutes at the truck crossing (which normally is shorter but for some reason was an hour longer than the other one) I did a U-turn and drove on fumes to find a gas station. Then I headed back to the border again. I mean, we had no choice. The hotel was booked and paid for and I had US dollars to burn.

Luckily the detour I took to the gas station meant that in order to get to the other lineup I would have to take an exit and then merge. That merging lane meant I shaved off about an hour and a half of waiting in line and SOMEHOW we were through the border and out in the other side in 45 minutes! I turned on the radio just as we got through only to hear that the lineup was now at four hours. How lucky were we?

Anyhoo, Seattle was awesome. We did touristy things like checked out the Space Needle (from down below), went to the Sci-Fi museum (which got me so nerdishly excited!) and the Experience Music Project museum, where we gawked at Kurt Cobain's guitar and jammed out in the sound booths. Later, we capped it all off with a night at the Zig Zag Cafe and Lounge. Honestly, they aren't kidding when they say they have the best cocktails and bartenders in the country. The drinks were unbelievable.

Here are some quick pics:






Oh, and of course, on the way back I blew more money than I could afford (especially being unemployed and all) at Forever 21. This is when being impulsive got the best of me. I literally grabbed clothes off the racks, didn't try them on and just bought them. Some turned out OK, but there is an item or two that I probably wouldn't have bought had I taken the time to think it through and try it on. I was just so caught up in the "HA it's so cheap!" mentality that I completely blacked out. Something tells me that I should probably avoid the states for the next wee while (until I join my parents in Palm Springs in Dec), lest that should happen again. After all, just because something is "on sale" doesn't mean you really need it.


On that note, I also did the most spontaneous thing ever on Friday. Looking forlornly at pictures of Disneyland, I suddenly grabbed my credit card, went to Expedia and booked a 5 day trip to Disneyland in January with the Rockstar.

Yup. One moment I'm bored, the next moment I'm jumping up and down on my bed because I'M GOING TO THE HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH WITH THE BEST MAN ON EARTH!

Seriously though. Keep my credit cards away from me ;)

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Meet the Parents 3

I decided to make a blog post that wasn't about all this David Copperfield hoopla. Seems like everywhere I turn, that name is being brought up somehow. And as excited as I am to potentially be on a talk show, I also have a legitimate fear of being a media whore. So far though, it's all just in talks (btw, Vegas Princess, I can actually do interviews again starting this Friday).

Anyhoo.

Things with the Rockstar and I couldn't be better. Four or five months in and we haven't even had a fight. Not that there is anything wrong with that, I know fighting is healthy and everything, sometimes crucial to relationships. It's just...there is nothing to fight about! And believe me, there COULD be stuff to fight about, mainly because I can be such a headcase sometimes. But he is so damn patient and understanding that it never amounts to anything.

And we weren't even officially "together" at this point


And importantly, he let's you talk without getting defensive. Looking back on my old relationship, I can't believe how many fights were started just because I had an issue that I didn't want to keep to myself. My ex would get so defensive if it was anything slightly negative or even if I was just sad, that a fight would soon ensue. But my Rockstar here just lets me get things off my chest. We discuss them, compromise and crisis is averted. It's pretty damn amazing, I feel like we can (and we do) discuss anything under the sun.

Plus it definitely doesn't hurt when people are constantly telling you how great of a guy he is, how lucky you are to have him and that you have landed "one of the good ones." I definitely I agree with that.

One thing though, that hasn't happened in our 4 or 5 months of dating, is a meeting of the parents.

Sure, he has met mine a few times. And I have met his a few times. More than a few actually, I go for a family dinner at his parent's house every Sunday. I must say it annoys my parents because our parents all live in the same town and I can go and leave without even saying hello to them. But believe me, if my family was as "normal" (I say that in qoutes because no family really is) as his is, I would eat there too.

Plus, I like his family. His sister is now an awesome friend of mine, in fact we just had a girls trip to Whistler this past weekend. I've got to tell you though, we shared a bed and she sounds exactly like her brother when sleeping...teeth-grinding, snoring and all :P

Anyway, what hasn't happened is that my parents have not met his parents. To be even more specific, THE MOTHERS have not met (you may recall that his father and my father have played golf together, years before Rockstar and I met. Actually, my bf's dad has even played golf with my brother, which is beyond weird and very embarassing, if you know my brother). But our moms have not met.

It almost happened once when my mom came to pick me up from his house. My mom got halfway to the door when she saw my bf's mom standing there, all excited to meet her. Then she ran back to the car.

See, my mom is terribly insecure (it runs in the family). She was wearing workout clothes (actually, to be more correct, she was wearing a pair of my dad's long underwear) and feeling sloppy and did not want that to be the moment when she met my bf's mom, who is younger and thinner, etc.

Anyway, I think his mom was kind of insulted that my mother scurried away like that because the next day she was telling people at her gym (Curves, of course) that my mom didn't want to meet her.

Need I tell you that my mother and his mother go to the same gym?

So this gets back to my mother who then had to explain why she didn't meet her (mainly cuz she was wearing my dad's long underwear, which is a legitimate excuse IMHO). That message was then passed onto his mother.

A few weeks pass and on Monday my mother goes to the gym at her regular time (she goes in at noon, bf's mom goes in at 6AM). Suddenly everyone is coming up to her saying, "We saw your daughter on TV! (bf's mom) had told us all to watch it!" All too funny. And then the woman at the front desk told my mother that his mom was asking what time she comes to the gym at. Something tells me there is going to be a sneak attack on my mother.

Honestly though, there is a reason for this whole avoidance thing. A stupid one, but still a reason. My mother told me she doesnt want to meet his parents (to be specific, take them out for dinner) because of what happened with my ex...

My parents had taken Ross's parents out for dinner when they were in town last year. She really liked them and everything. I guess she kind of saw them as my future in-laws (let's be honest, so did I). And then, months later, he went and dumped me. TWICE in three weeks. And turned out to be not the man I thought he was at all.

My poor mother who HAD held him in the highest regard could not believe he would do something so terrible to me, and some certain events that happened after we broke up disturbed her (and me) as well. So, naturally, my mother is afraid to let the Rockstar and his family into her life. She's afraid of the same thing happening again, thinking she herself might be some kind of jinx.

Sigh. My mom is nuts. I mean, it's inevitable that they will meet one day. I just know my mom is hoping it's not when she's wearing my dad's underwear.

Actually, I'm hoping that too. That definitely could jinx it ;)

Monday, November 05, 2007

The Aftermath

Hey folks,

OK, now that all the hoopla is over I can get you up to speed on what really happened.

First of all, Inside Edition aired the show on Friday evening. Thanks to digital cable though, I was getting calls from friends who ended up watching the show hours before I did, so I knew exactly what to expect when it aired.

The good part was that they combined my segment with an interview with another girl - therefore, the attention was less on me and more on her and I could breathe a little easier. The bad part was that Inside Edition really loves their tight shots and my big fat head filled the whole screen (and actually I have a very small head, so you can understand how tight that shot must have been). Also, a lot of the more "interesting" stuff that I said was cut in order to make room for the other girl's story. Which meant all the unflattering photos of my ex, mentions of my blog and me gazing forlornly out the window at Vancouver was all cut.

There was, however, my despondent walk down Davie St, which was shown in a cheesey split screen. That was pretty cool. And I guess in some ways I was quite relieved that my blog wasn't mentioned because there are a LOT of people out there who don't know I have a blog and I wish to keep it that way.

So yeah, the show aired and I know some of you caught it. It's always hard to watch yourself on TV and thankfully I had my Rockstar watching it with me so I could bury my head in his shoulder and not have to look. All in all, the interview was quite compelling, especially hearing the other girls story. And as one of you has said, I came off sounding very intelligent and articulate - especially in comparison.

The actual shoot of the interview was fucking hilarious. The producer and the cameraman showed up at my apartment, thinking to shoot it there. I wasn't THAT comfortable with that notion since my place is teeny and kinda cluttered looking but alas the lighting wasn't good anyway. So we took off to a hotel down the street from me. Checking in was amusing, since the reporter stated she was with Inside Edition and they needed a room for a few hours. The front desk girls totally thought I was someone famous.

Ditto to the walk down Davie St., though that was more embarassing if anything. Imagine having a camera guy following you down the main street in your neighbourhood. People were gawking at me like I was some film star, meanwhile I had to pretend that I was deep in forlorn thought about Mr. Copperfield. Crazy shite the whole thing was. Thankfully we ran out of time because they were going to make me walk down the beach. Now THAT would have been too much!

It's funny because years ago this would have been my dream, but now I just found all the attention to be quite unnerving. I had many doubts about doing this interview, even after they had arranged for them to fly up here. But $500 definitely sweetened the deal for Lil' Miss Unemployed here.

The money didn't come without a catch though, I had to sign a two-week exclusivity agreement which meant no other interviews until a certain date.

That was fine with me...

...until this morning when I checked my emails (I had gone away for a girls weekend) and found several from a VERY well-known, Good and reputable Morning talk/news show in America. They too want to talk to me about my experience (which seems to get more disturbing the more I keep hearing about these other allegations and these other incidents). Now I just have to wait a wee bit and this whole Inside Edition thing will happen all over again.

In some ways it's pretty silly - all this fuss for me. But being a Journalism graduate, I know what it's all about. This is what is newsworthy right now and my story is apparently important for the public. It's not everyday that a famous, talented person is accused of something so severe and it's not everyday that more and more people are coming forward with damaging evidence.

I have my own opinion on this whole matter (and it's just an opinion, because aside from my experience with him, I don't know a whole lot) but I'll wait for another blog post to talk about that. In the meantime, I have 1 billion pounds to lose before my next interview ;P

Daela, the show producer, and I post-interview


PS - does anyone actually know HOW to get something off of the TV and on to Youtube? A few people recorded the show but I have no clue what to do next...

Thursday, November 01, 2007

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

For me, anyway, is Halloween. Ever since I was a little girl, this yearly event has captured my heart and imagination like nothing else. There is something deliciously indulgent with scaring the crap out of yourself and pretending to be someone else for an evening.

Or two evenings. Or three. Or four. And maybe prentending to have more than one alter ego.

This year I had two. Both are quite obscure and fall into a cult niche. If you know who I am you are either a very smart, intelligent and witty person or a huge fanboy/nerd. I claim to be both of these things.

On the weekend, my beloved had a party. I have to say that he had the most righteous costume of them all. Of course, I am biased since I helped make the entire thing, from painting his leather jacket just so, to creating an ugly-ass vest out of Value Village clothes. But it was just so perfect. Who can remember the first thing I ever yelled at my boyfriend upon meeting him?

That's right. I yelled, "FERRIS BUELLER!"

So it was only fitting for him to go as Ferris Bueller for Halloween.

Ferris Bueller and Principle Ed Rooney make nice


And whom was his lovely girlfriend? Well, I was Lindsay Funke from Arrested Development (as played by Portia Di Rossi).


Problem with my costume though is that most people don't watch the show (hence why it was cancelled) and therefore they just thought I was a huge slut. This was not the problem at Bueller's Halloween Party where most of his friends enjoy the smart, sarcastic humour of the show. Everyone knew who I was.



But the next day, when I went to this shit-ass local bar back in my hometown, all I got were nasty nasty looks. Why? Well, I think every single girl in there thought I was making fun of them. WHY? Because they were all just slutty versions of whatever (Oooh, I'm a slutty Bee in my underwear, oooh I'm a slutty Girls Guide cookie seller, Oooh I'm a slutty pirate wench). Let's face it, for most girls Halloween is just an excuse to dress like a skank and not get called on it.

Apparently though, I WAS calling them on it. I was outright calling myself a SLUT, with no pretenses. Ironically, my costume wasn't slutty at all which was even better. Naturally, that wasn't the original point of my costume but if these skanky-ass hos are gonna be freakin' twinks about it then sure, let Lindsay Funke stand for making fun of them for one night.

And then there was the third night. The Rockstar/Bueller and I went to my first ever Canuck's hockey game. It was an amazing time and I think I am officially hooked on the game - despite us losing UNFAIRLY in the last possible second (OK so the ref "loses sight" of the puck and therefore the goal doesn't count? Of course it counts! We all saw it go in, why the hell didn't you! LOOK YOU STUPID ASS REF, LOOK UP AT THE DAMN JUMBO SCREEN AND WATCH IN THE INSTANT REPLAY YOU DETROIT RED WINGS ASS WIPING F*CK!).



Sorry. Got a bit carried away there but at least I got into it. Funny thing was that again we had dressed up in our costumes. Only NO ONE else at the game was dressed up. So we just wandered around looking like two idiots who got lost in the 80's or something. Only a perceptive few came up to the bf and said, "Hey, Ferris!" But me? Nope, I was just a big slut again.

Then, finally, last night was actual Halloween. I wasn't planning on going out or doing anything but at the last minute I slipped on this neverworn costume of mine. I had avoided it like the plague because it's....well...Gold and Red Spandex. A one-peice. Foot to fingers. Yup.

But to hell with it. It was actual Halloween night, I live on the gayest, most flamboyent street in Vancouver, if I can't get away with it here, I can't do it anywhere.



And behold....Phoenix (from the X-men) came out to play:





INSIDE EDITION UPDATE
- Most likely, the show will be airing tomorrow night (Friday Nov 2nd) at 730 PST.

I really, really, really do not want to watch myself because I fear it will be overdramatic, over the top, taken out of context and I am going to look like the biggest retard. But my bf says he will force me to because I might regret it one day. I'll tell you who will regret it though... My ex-boyfriend who is mentioned many times on the show (cuz that's who I went to the show with). He has no idea about it, cuz he cut all ties with me because he thinks I keep mentioning him in this blog (well, I am now). Doesn't like the "publicity" you see. Thank God he won't be tuning in tomorrow.

But whether you do or not, that's up to you.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Do you know who reads your blog?


I thought I did. Until I got an email from Inside Edition.

Seems they were doing some research on David Copperfield and that whole lotta mess he's in and somehow stumbled across my little old blog post I made back in January.

They rang me up and I gave a quick interview over the phone, basically going over what I wrote in my blog (and jogging the memory a bit since it has been awhile since the event).

Then, deciding I was "newsworthy" enough, they told me that they were flying up their reporter/producer Daela up from LA tomorrow to film an interview with me.

I'm sorry....what?

Yeah. Exactly. What? Flying up a reporter to come and film me? Little ol' me? Me who just happened to have a pretty interesting experience at a Copperfield show and who then blogged about it (as I do with everything) is worth all this fuss?

Apparently so. Daela came up from LA to do the interview and I was a pile of nerves and wondering what the hell happened to my life so suddenly to warrant a camera crew following me down the street. It was pretty surreal, almost like the time I was on stage with Jessica Simpson as her lookalike!

Anyhoo, I'm not going to go into too much detail at this moment because I know Inside Edition is probably reading this (hi guys!) and it wouldn't be fair to disclose too much of my experience until the show actually airs (might be this Friday, but I will let you fellow readers know so keep watching this space). Also, my blog is going to be featured ON the program so I want to make sure my posts are, uh, well...kosher.

Funny how life works out. One minute you are unemployed and uninspired and the next you have cheques coming in the mail and you're gonna be on International TV!

Who ever said blogging didn't pay off?? :P

Monday, October 22, 2007

I confess...

All righty, how about something heavy to start the week? I'm actually in a very bubbly, buoyant and fluffy mood today which makes writing something kind of poignant a bit more less devastating, so onwards with the show!

Here is somethings you probably know about me:

*I am very monogamous

*I have zero tolerance towards cheaters (however, that's not to say that if it happened ONCE in a marriage, it can't be something you can work out - I know there are always expectations)

*I am very vocal at my disgust towards the act of cheating and don't understand why monogamy is so damn hard for some people

*I would never, ever, in a million years cheat on my current boyfriend. I don't even look at other men anymore (indeed I snarl at them if they come near) because I only have eyes for him

HOWEVER....

There is something about me that you do not know.

And that is, I, Ms. How Dare You Cheat, am a bit of a hypocrite....for I, once upon a time, have cheated on a boyfriend.

These are the circumstances in which it happened (and yeah, they could be seen as "excuses" but there really is no excuse because when it's wrong, it's wrong):

*I was on vacation when it happened

*I was in a very bad, stressed emotional state

*I was wasted out of my tree

*I was not feeling sexually desired by my boyfriend

*I felt safe with the guy I was with and he made it obvious that he DID desire me

*My relationship was getting boring

*I had been cheated on before a few times and what I did could amount to my own brand of vengence and karma against the cheating men of the world, especially since my then bf was a cheater himself

*I didn't sleep with the guy but it came close with all sorts of nakedness and such (I decided - even in my drunk state - I couldn't quite go that far)


So...it happened. And although all of the above is what lead to it happening, it still is no excuse. I knew what I was doing was wrong but I did it anyway. Did it mean that my relationship with my boyfriend wasn't as strong as I thought? Heck yes it meant that and a lot of other things as well.

That's not to say I didn't feel terrible about it. I moaned to my mother but all she said is "Well, you're not married so who cares?" which is apparently the standard mother response, followed by "that's his karma."

But yeah, I felt REALLY terrible and low and guilty for about 3 days and then I turned the experience around. I took what I did and applied it to my life...it made me realize that I cared a lot more for my bf than I had thought (when you realize how close you could be to losing someone), it made me realize how unhappy I was in many aspects of my relationship and, most of all, it made me realize that I am not perfect. I am human and can do many, many of the despicable things that I have always frowned against.


As you can guess though, I am still adamant against cheating. I would never do it again (I have much more respect for my love now), I would never tolerate it against me....but I am glad that it happened. I learned my lesson, got that blunder over and done with....and I don't regret a thing.

We make mistakes and we learn from them. I am grateful that I learned from mine.




Whew, glad to get that off my chest ;)

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Manic Musings

*Sometimes I want to shoot apartment living in the face. My sleep is very precious to me (and I am cursed with being a very light sleeper - it's like my body takes any opportunity to stay awake) and nothing pisses me off more than when I can hear my neighbours. For example, the studio next to mine has always been dead quiet...that is until a month ago when suddenly, at midnight, I could hear their TV blaring through the walls, as clear as a whistle. In fact, I could go stand in the kitchen and still make out everything they were saying, so you can imagine how bad it was by my pillow, where it seems they are aiming their TV.

Anyway, I figured most of the sound was coming from the vents so I stuffed a blanket down there to somewhat muffle the noise. Only problem is that muffling it doesn't quite stop it, so I had to write a note to my neighbour about it. It was vaguely threatening mainly because I wrote it in the morning in the throes of a bad night's sleep.

I have to say it worked. Now when he plays the tv it's fairly quiet (though I'm not ready to remove the blanket from the heater....even though it means I can't turn on the heat in my apartment) and I can rest easy.

Sorta.

Then there is the IDIOT above me. I fucking want to blow the moron's brains out. He's always smoking out of his window, dribbling ash down on mine and talking very loudly on his phone. At night he stomps through the apartment and repeatedly drops what sounds like bowling balls. If the hockey game is on, he'll have a friend or too over, open his window and proceed to yell out of it.

Last night, after the fifth bowling ball went astray and it sounded like he was hopping after it on one heavy shoed leg, I had enough. I turned into that neighbour from Friends. I didn't have a broom handy though, and the Swifer sweeper only made pathetic whacks against my ceiling so I picked up my guitar and started hurtling it upwards. The paint from the ceiling rained down on me but I didn't care. If you interrupt my sleep, I will make it my mission to destroy you. In fact, I get more angry and She-Hulkish than I do when driving which says a lot.



*I've been jogging every week day in an effort to slim down before Halloween and in general, just lose my out-of-shapeness. Last Friday was absolutely gorgeous, a warm, sunny and vibrant fall day. On my way back from my jog I stopped at a bench overlooking the calm blue ocean and just had some time alone with my thoughts - or lack of.

Of course, this doesn't prevent some fucking moron on a bike to swoop past and yell, "Look at you, so lonely."

WTF?

Why is it that I can never fucking sit somewhere and just think without having some sorry excuse for a man make some patronizing comment. Why the fuck can't you men just leave me alone? Just because a woman is sitting alone it is not a sign for you to A) make some belittling comment on how lonely I must be JUST BECAUSE I'm not fucking surrounded by moronic men like yourself or B) hit on me, cuz you know, if a woman is alone it MUST mean she's looking for male attention. YAAAARG!



* In other news, I think I may be losing my mind. I went for lunch with my father the other day. After too much Sake, I headed back to my car. OK, it probably wouldn't have been that wise for me to drive but it didn't matter anyway because I couldn't find my car keys. Turned out they were locked in the car.

Yup. Just sitting there in the ignition.

This is the 3rd time I have done this since July and the oddest thing is that my keys do make a beeping sound if you leave them in the ignition, so I don't really understand. I must be pulling them out of the ignition just slightly and leaving them there but I have no idea why.

So after putting my billionth call into BCAA and waiting an hour before the guy came over and jimmied my door open, I decided to go to my car's dealership and get an extra key made. This would ensure that no matter what, I could always get into my car.

I tucked the spare key in my wallet and off I went to my boyfriend's house.

The next morning, as he was leaving for work, I once again noticed I couldn't find my keys.

I walked over to my car and looked in. Sure enough, my keys were once again in the ignition.

At that point I just grabbed my head and wailed. Surely, I am losing my mind. Not to mention that later that day, I lost my debit card.

What the hell is wrong with me? Am I really going mental? Do I have early alzheimers? Do I need to eat more salmon or something? Do I need to see a doctor?

Or is this just me and something I have to get used to?

Sigh.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

A Walking Contradiction

As I was sitting down to a delicious pumpkin pie (and ice cream) being served at my boyfriend's parents house this Thanksgiving weekend, a thought entered my head.

I don't care much for ice cream.

I relayed this information to my bf and his family and was met with faces of shock.

How can you not like ice cream?

Well, I continued, I don't know. It might have something to do with the digestive reprocussions that usually follow but I just don't really ever feel like having ice cream. I don't like cake either.

How can you not like cake?????

Well, it's just too dry and the frosting is just too sweet. However, I LOVE ice cream cake!

Again, I was met with shocked faces. How can you dislike cake and ice cream but love ice cream cake?

I don't know, that's just the way it is. I'm an oxymoron in many ways.

I'm just glad I didn't follow that up with another example: I LOVE giving head but don't care to recieve it.

That probably wouldn't have been very well "recieved" at the dinner table.




Question to you is: what do you do that makes YOU an Oxymoron?

Friday, October 05, 2007

Weekend Topic

As you all know, I had been having trouble with my old birth control pills. After ten years on Ortho-Tri-Cyclen, it just wasn't doing it's "job" anymore, which is kinda scary. So, I switched to a monophasic kind that gave me terrible mood swings and anger problems....but on the plus side, it has revved up my sex drive (which really didn't need to be revved up in the first place but I digress).

Now, two weeks into the new pill, my moods are better (short temper is sadly inherited from my father) as I think my body as adjusted to the new hormones. The sex drive is still in high gear, which is actually REALLY annoying. Shit, now I know what all you high school guys went through. I'm clawing the air here and my poor boyfriend gets physically attacked when he walks in the door. Not that being the sexual agressor is new to me in relationships but this time I am really putting the AGGRESSIVE RAAAAAR! in it.

Anyhoo, for the last few days I was worried I was pregnant. Mainly because I thought if my last pill wasn't working as it should, then who knows. Plus my stomach felt bigger, more bloated, my boobs were bigger....OK so I probably just gained weight (stupid beer) but that didn't stop me from being paranoid all week.

Last night though - to spare you from graphic detail - I kinda of got a minor touch of a sign that I wasn't pregnant. So I breathed a sigh of relief and went "yaaaaay!" (not pregnant) and then went"boooo!" (in case this meant I was getting my period-boo). I don't know if it's like that with other women, but everytime I get it I have mixed feelings that like :P

So I told the bf this and he got all quiet. He told me that if I am worried about things like that, that I should tell him, even if I think it's nothing. He doesn't want me to worry by myself and does not want to be one of those guys who think it's the women's job to worry about birth control - after all, he said, we both are having sex.

That got me thinking.... do you think birth control should be a shared thing? Does anyone actually split the cost of their birth control (like pills) with their partner? Does their partner have any input when it comes to different forms and what not?

AND - for you women out there - if the birth control pill for a man became available (they are working on one that causes a "dry" ejaculation which sounds terrible - but less messy ;) - would you trust a man to take it? I know a lot of women would jump at the chance to have men go through this and be responsible but frankly...I don't know if I could do it.

Monday, October 01, 2007

What's new?

*Last week's depression has finally lifted and I think it is safe to say that it is NOT the pills that were making me mental. I think I was just genuinely down because of the circumstances and writhing in my own self-pity (which is a terribly selfish place to be). That said, this week I feel fine, back to my old, happy, loved up self which is a major relief.

*One of which reasons is probably because I finally have a plan. Finding a job is proving to be impossible because there are no jobs in my field or which I am ideally suited for AND if there are, they pay like 10-12$ and hour which is absolute horseshit. It angers me that employers think they can get away with paying university educated people so little...I mean, what was the point of paying all that money for school then? THAT ASIDE, I have a plan:

There is a program through UBC which deals with the admin side of film. The course is from Jan to April, the classes sounde absolutely wonderful (I don't know if "The Candian Film Finance System" and "Entertainment Law" sound like good classes to you, but for me they are to die for) AND they get you a two-week internship with a production company or whatever and job-search workshops. I am very excited and going to attend the info session next week so I will let you know how that goes, of course.

So my plan is, if I get accepted and I like it, I will either live off of EI (providing I recieve it) and be bored out of my tree or do temp work until Dec when I jet off to Palm Springs for Xmas. If I don't like the school or if I don't get it...well, I will cross that bridge when I come to it. Worst case scenario, I will look into getting a headhunter. And not the scary, tribal version....

*My boyfriend moved out! Yippee! He now has a 2-bedroom flat with his best friend J (the other friend with the bitchy gf bailed) in an awesome part of town (in the city, close to downtown). The place is roomy, clean and I can tell the bf is super excited about it. Plus, being a 12 min drive from my place ain't too shabby either. Speaking of the bf, things are going wonderful...today is our three-month anniversary (yah, yah, it's early, WE KNOW!) and was invited to have Thanksgiving dinner with the family (yeah, in Canada we have it in October for some dumb ass reason) and to go to Maui with them in February. Sweetness.

*I went out for dinner with a good friend of mine. He has this psycho gf, they've been on and off for years and this year made it "committed." Then they ended up moving in together, which I always thought was dangerous but hey what do I know. Except that the woman truly is psycho, I think I am the only female friend of his that she allows (she is bad enough to make him sign on to msn and make him BLOCK women that she thinks he shouldn't talk to). Anyway, things aren't working out, obviously, but I was a bit suprised when he told me today that they had agreed to break up on October 1st. Today being the 1st, it has been pushed back to November but I was still like WTF? You have set a date, together, on which you will break up? Apparently they decided that November 1st they will both move out and break up. Is that not the weirdest thing you have ever heard? Or does this happen more often than I think?


*In the spirit of nostalgia, I was reading some old diaries of mine from high school. I will get along to posting some of them, but I noticed a pattern here.

All of my Ex_boyfriends (except for ONE) have all been mental.

I'm dead serious.

Looking back over the years, I was suddenly reminded of this. I've had ones that accused me of being in love a guy just because of a compliment I made, locked in my parent's old bedroom because he thought I was sleeping with my neighbour (ew, no) just because my neighbour dropped by to say hello. I've been yelled at in public because I went for coffee with a guy friend. Two of them cyber-stalked me in an increasingly obsessive manner. One cheated on me more times than I dare think, broke up with me once because I was being "quiet," one had a creppy fondness for medieval weapons, one never liked me to mix with "his" friends EVER.

Out of the five serious boyfriends I had in the past, only one was/is remotely normal and who I can look back on with...well, really with a sense of "meh" and mediocre goodwill, no hard feelings, he was a good guy, etc, but that's better than one of disgust when you realize how pathetic the person you thought you knew really was.

So the question that I got was, what the hell is it about these guys that I end up being attracted to? I mean, yeah, one or two I kinda knew they were nuts to begin with, but the others I didn't really know UNTIL they became my exes. Is there some kind of hidden mental illness that I sunconciously pick up on and go "oooh this seems like fun?" Cuz it's not fun! I guess you never really know someone until after you break up, but looking back at my high school diaries I can see that in many cases I DID know all this and yet I put up with it. Sigh.

Thankfully my current bf is normal..well, in a sense. He is a bit of silly goof sometimes, more odd than textbook normal perhaps...yet I love the goofy bastard anyway. Besides, I would take funny sillyness over scary mental issues any day. You would have to be VERY silly to put up with a crazy idiot like me ;P

Friday, September 28, 2007

Where I came from Part I



This was me, 14/15 years old, holy crap.

Lately, if you haven't noticed, I have been feeling very nostalgic. It has a lot to do with the whole, going back to the music I used to like when this picture was taken, being friends with a lot of people again that I was friends with ten years ago, hanging out in my hometown (well, where I went to high school) a lot - due to said people who still live here and the fact that my boyfriend lives here...well, until he moves out on Sunday to his new place downtown, and generally being surrounded by an ongoing sense of Deja Vu.

On my Facebook account, I recently frightened a lot of people by posting photos taken ten years ago (btw, for people who are trying to add me on Facebook, I'll totally accept however the email address that I have linked to this blog is NOT the one that I have linked to Facebook). I've taken to looking through old yearbooks and laughing at the crazy stuff people wrote in them (also looking two grades back and laughing at boyfriend's geeky grade 10 picture), as well as perusing old art sketchbooks from Grade 9. In one book, I found an assignment where I had to describe myself in a brainstorm of words:


Who was I at 14 years old?

-Imaginative

-Romantic

-Kind

-Moody

-Creative

-Sensitive

-Thinks too much

-True Sagitarious

How much of that can be applied to me today as a 25/ 26 year old? I think pretty much all of it. Mind you, the teacher only gave me a 6/10 on that.

Then I ended up finding my diaries from 95-98. OH MY GOD.

It's interesting to me though, why I suddenly have so much interest in my past. Perhaps because I am looking for a peice of myself - as corny as that sounds. I mean, in order to know where you are going, you have to know where you came from - at least, I think that's a saying. Regardless, it's like I am taking stock of my life, comparing myself to the way I was ten years ago and wondering if I had thought I would be where I am today (well, I'm not driving a porsche and I'm not a Hollywood actress, so probably NO). And because I am surrounded by people and places of my past, I am reminded of the person I once was, the person who is probably still a huge part of me (as my head banging at the Pumpkins concert on Monday can attest to).

Luckily though, all this re-examination of who I am is not hindering me in anyway. I used to think I hated high school in all it's glory, and I know I did at some points. But I also hung out with a group of renegades and our hatred of the norm and the school and the conformities were what made us unique. We were looked down on, we were different and looking at everyone as they are today, I can still see that there is a touch of rebellion in everyone of us. I can wear my fancy Italian boots and my lady like dresses but underneath there is the cargo-clad, chain wearing teenager that is just dying to get out. And sometimes, I let her.

Stay tuned next week when I publish some of those diaries. Oh my goodness, the embarassment will be all mine but the laughter will be for everyone.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Pumpkin Smashing Comes Full Circle

Laaaame. Sounds like a totally lame headline I would have had to think up in totally lame journalism school.

Anyway, before I get into that, this is a question for all the women out there (men quickly scroll down until I get to the good stuff): are there certain birth control pills that make you crazy?

I recently switched to a monophasic pill because on Ortho-tri-cyclen - which I have been on for like 10 years - my period has started to come a week early. Apparently that means my pill isn't working as strong as it should...and let's face it, you don't want your pill to be working at half-capacity. So I switched, though I wasn't happy about it because my body was used to the other one and I didn't want to gain weight, get mood swings, etc.

Anyway, I have been going through a rough patch in my life. Family problems that are getting worse, being unemployed, unable to find work that suits my degree and being broke. Not sure what to do with life...etc.

So, I'm kinda depressed. The kind that you sleep all day cuz you don't want to face your crap life - it'll pass though. BUT is it the pills that are making me sad, or is it the present circumstances in my life? I mean, I can't be freaking Pollyanna Positive all the freaking time...or can I, and it's the pills that are making me more negative? Meh, who knows. Just wondering if any women out there had similar problems with their pills, tis all....

ENOUGH ABOUT THE WOMEN PROBLEMS! ON TO MANLY THINGS!

Sorta.

You may recall a post I did about the Smashing Pumpkins concert I went to 11 years ago. 11 years ago when I looked like this....


And was a "skid" as they say. Anyway, you can read that post here, I am not going to get into but anyway the point is that 11 years later, I went to see the Smashing Pumpkins...again!

What was weird is that I went with the Rockstar (who, as I have mentioned, is as big as a fan as I was way back when) AND Kelli, the girl I had gone to the concert with 11 years ago. See, it was only 6 months after the concert or so that Kelli and I stopped being friends and we only started being friends a few months ago now, so you can understand how weird it kinda was. Especially since the Rockstar and her have been friends for about 6 years and we were all there together...ahhhhh all sorts of weirdness.

Anyhoo, the concert was pretty awesome. I know that the one we saw in Seattle was better because the sound was awesome, we were at the front and it was only 2000 people there but I can't really remember much of the actual music, whereas on Monday night I totally did.

And yeah, they are missing D'arcy and James Iha but all they did was stand in the opposite corners of the stage and not move. Here we had Jimmy and Billy and they are pretty much the whole band anyway. Fuck me, Jimmy has to be the best drummer alive!

Sweet part of the night was during the awesome song 'United States' (off their new album, which rocks like it's 1993) he started soloing the Canadian Anthem. Pretty cool that he learned that.

He also took time after the show to thank Canada for being such great supporters of the band and for making the album number one here. In the States, they lost the primo spot to Bon Jovi, lol. I guess he does have better hair...

Of course, no concert can go without controversy. Though we were smack in the middle, we were thankfully out of the way of crowd surfers and moshers (though I didn't notice too much of that). Turns out (well, I found out today after reading Perez Hilton of all things) that a person actually died at the concert. Isn't that twice now?


******

Oh yeah, and to leave on a lighter note, the bf and I went to the Death Ray Global Comedy Fest on Thursday and it was amazing. Fucking hilarious performers like Bob Odenkirk from Mr. Show, Bob Posehn from pretty much everything and, the crown jewel, David Cross.

David Cross, if you don't know, played Tobias Funke on Arrested Development and is one funny motherfucka outside of the show. He was bloody brilliant.

Oh and look who I ran into after the show...



I went to the bathroom and as I was coming down the stairs I noticed that David was standing right beside Rockstar. Only Rockstar was busy watching me coming down the stairs (he wanted to see how I was going to gracefully manuever getting over this velvet rope) that he didn't even notice he was standing right beside him.

"OMG! Let's get his picture!"

"Whose picture?"

"You're standing beside Tobias!!!"

If you are wondering why I have a nervous expression in the photo it's because my camera kept dying just before Rockstar took the picture. Thankfully David had the patience of a saint (probably helped that no one else was bugging him) and when I told him he was awesome, he seemed really humbled to hear it.

Though he was probably just glad I didn't ask him if he "blue" himself.