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.