Blond Hair Dye PopStar Infatuation

While watching the unfortunately titled Access Hollywood: 10 Stars Undiscovered Before They Were Famous Last Ten Years Show of Holiday Anniversary Special or something like that, I was transported (mentally not like beam me up scotty) to a few years back when I was...*SHOCK* a teeny bopper. This was, in hindsite, the most disgusting time of my life because I liked popstars. Do you remember when you were once in love with a popstar? Be it Justin or Lance, Brian or Nick, the fat one from 98 Degrees or the one from Nsync (NSync, 'Nsync, N'sync, NSYNC, N*Sync) you were [I was] infatuated. You knew JUST KNEW that YOU were the chosen one, you would be the mere peasent who would cross over to the celebrity side and marry the famous one. You would be the one with a television special on your fairytale romance, you would walk down the aisle and see the face of Oprah in the crowd, you would guest star on ... Martha Stewart Living.

Then Justin dated Britney, Nick dated Jessica and the dream slowly vanished for many...but not you. Justin would come around, you just knew it...just waiting for that fateful moment when you are dating a celebrity and life is beautiful. And you waited...depending on your sanity or lack there of you kept waiting.

Or perhaps you were a celebrity crush whore - one day your in love with Nick, the next your sure your solemate is Brian. Perhaps you switched to the B-List loves like Ashley Angel (oooooh lol) or maybe became infatuated with half of Westlife (Bryan McFadden, Kian Egan and Mark Feehily) but really who does that?...cough cough.

Then one day it clicked; your not going to marry Prince William. Even if you do go to St. Andrews University in Scotland and work out a lot and practice balancing books on your head (you can stop laughing now) you will not become Queen. Or even Princess Holly - err, I mean Princess InsertYourNameHere. This was a sad day. You realize your dreams don't come true. You will not be Cinderella, there is no Prince Charming and at this very second in time happily ever after is not looking too good.

And Justin Timberlake is engaged to Cameron Diaz.
The end.

Famousity...is that a word?

It seems that almost every Canadian city has its token famous person; quick example Brantford and Wayne Gretzky. So it leaves me to ponder about those cities, towns, villages that are completely and utterly famous personless - how do they cope without a sign saying HOME OF INSERT NAME HERE? Are they depressed? Do they spend years training rigiouresly their sons and daughters to become something great? Does the Mayor often cry himself to sleep at night? What a sad place to live.

I have found the list of the TOP 20 Famous Canadians

The top five for 2003 were Avril Lavigne, Pam Anderson, Romeo Daillire (Hotel Rwanda Real Life Person), Shania Twain and Nelly Furtado.

That is depressing. Here is my list -

CANADIAN STARS I AM ACTUALLY PROUD OF AND DON'T WANT TO SEND TO UTAH (in no particular order)

1. Keanu Reeves (the Matrix, Constantine, really really good looking)
2. Barenaked Ladies (If I Had a Million Dollars and those other funny songs)
3. Bryan Adams (I like him because he's really famous but if I have to hear Summer of '69 one more time he's gettin his ass shipped to Utah)
4. Neil Young (classic)
5. The Guess Who
6. Bachman Turner Overdrive
7. Leonard Cohen
8. Dan Akroyd
9. Samuel Goldwyn (of MGM)
10. Peter Jennings (BOO YA)
11. Todd McFarland (comic books, owns an island)
12. Leslie Nielsen
13. Alex Trebek
14. Mike Myers
15. Dave Foley
16. Scott Thomson
17. Brantford's own Phil Hartman

Things I Find Weird Before 10 am

(the oh so famous eggman)

1. My mother called me during the hour of 9 when I was still sleeping to inform me that possibly one of my old high school teachers had been arrested for sexual assault after a long investigation. I immediatly thought I knew who it was and I won't say here but if its not him I will be surprised. He always was chatting up the volleyball girls and never actually paying attention to class - you know that thing he was teaching. But I never honestly thought it was more than gross flirtation - which reminds me that even though I am pessimistic I am still nieve at times. People you know do bad things. Like Jann Arden's brother - I don't know him but I found out yesterday he is in jail for murder. On to number 2.
2. I live in Brantford, not a huge glitz pull here but I kind of was taken back when I found out that Wayne Gretzky's mothers funeral was going to be at the same church I do nursery in on Sundays. The one I would be able to see from here if there wasn't you know like a wall there. It shouldn't be that surprising really - its well known that Gretzky is from Brantford but at 9:47 am it just seems strange.

Partisan

I'm not partisan - I think they are all idiots.
Only 49 days till election night!

Our Balls Are Bigger - Canadian Football

I don't like football - except if its soccer but I am damn proud that Laurier won the Vanier Cup. Way to go Golden Hawks; I didn't even know we were good till we beat everyone in Ontario. Then everyone in Canada. So yeah for the team! Caaa CAHHHH! (By the way what's with me going to schools with birds as mascots? Brennan Cardinals! Tweet tweet! Wilfrid Laurier Golden Hawks Caa CAHHHH!)

We Win! See it here!

Laurier is...!

I SWEAR ON THIS ELECTION

Simple: if the liberals get a majority government after this Janurary 23rd election I am moving to Australia!

Reasons

1. Australia has lower taxes
2. A dollar comparable to the Canadian dollar
3. More vacation time
4. Free university for residents
5. Summer - all the time
6. Still part of the commonwealth
7. Didn't vote the freaking liberals in again
8. Australians aren't retarded like those who vote in the liberals after the sponsorship scandal!

We shall see my destiny sealed on January 23rd.

http://www.immi.gov.au/

At the end of my rope...

16 days, 10 hours, 37 minutes and 3 seconds...2 seconds...1 second...

The countdown has begun till exams are over and it can't be soon enough. I love University - honestly and truly I do but my god I will be a happy camper when this is done. I am so sick of my profs and my courses and my textbooks and crazy syllabuses and projects and midterms and more midterms and assignments and everything that if this semester doesn't end soon I will be very very - sad.

But it is almost done. I must remember this...its almost over. A good mantra really - university is almost done...for now.

While we are at it I am sick of this day as well. It's only 1:26 but I don't like it so far. I'm tired. And grumpy. So there.

I've been a lot of both lately. I'm sorry. I'm going to stop blabbering now.

Buh bye.

Frozen Toes and Melting Heart (CHEESE)

I went to the Santa Claus Parade tonight to write an article. Then I started to cry. I have been so mushy lately; quite ridiculous.

I started thinking that I was alone at the Santa Claus Parade. The last time to a parade I went I was six and with my family. Now I'm in a foreign city alone.

The Nightmare Before Christmas

This is the dream I had last night.

In my dream I was at a event of some sort where we had to watch disney cartoons for twelve hours; my entire immediate family was there and we watched the cartoons. By the time the cartoons were finished it was 10am the people at the event worked for Canadian Tire (even though the building and uniforms look like Home Depot). They said that they are doing a fundraising event for people who do not have shoes or floors and if we bring in shoes and ceramic tiles for tonight the poor shoeless, floorless people will get shoes and a floor. Hearing this I immediatly start to gather up old shoes and end up with 22 pairs. I was and bleach them (they were all white), sew the bits falling up back on and generally clean them up really really well. I also go out and find tiles at the dollar store cheap so that the shoeless, floorless may have shoes and floors. So this takes another 12 hours to do and at the end of the day I'm tired and bit cranky because I haven't been able to talk to Dave but I know that I will be done soon and it will all be worth it.

So I cart off all the shoes and ceramic tiles to Canadian Tire. When I arrive there are other people there with shopping carts full of shoes and tiles just like me and we all wait around. An anouncement is made saying that they are no longer doing to fundraiser for whatever reason so we can just take all our shoes and tiles and beat it. I trip out.

I start screaming "WHAT ABOUT THE PEOPLE WHO NEED SHOES!?" "WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO DO!?" "HOW CAN YOU DO THIS" "I WANT TO SPEAK TO SOMEONE!" So they pull the crazy lady (me) aside and start saying that I have to leave, they don't want to give the shoeless shoes anymore. And I start throwing a ceramic tile at this guy. "I want to talk to your MANAGER!!!!" (who is the lady running the cartoons the previous night), well they say she will meet you over here and they take me to the back of the building in an aisle no one ever goes down. As I'm waiting there I realize the reason they put me here is so no one can here my yelling. So I barge out and say "I'm not waiting there. You are just doing it so no one heres me yelling!" They say, "Thats true, I was cutting metal over in aisle 13 and all I could hear was you". So I stand in the centre hallway and wait. And while I'm waiting a girl from one of my classes who in real life I don't think likes me comes up in her home depot uniform and starts mocking me.

SO obviously, I start kickboxing and punching at her for the sake of the shoeless and floorless everywhere. So we are fighting but every few minutes I start to break down and cry saying "how can you not think of the shoeless! they have no shoes! do this for them! and I'm absolutely balling my eyes out. Its awful. Then I wake up.

The funny thing about me though is if the dream is bad enough like that it will effect me. So I tell Dave the whole story and he knows I get the strangest most twisted dreams which he has accepted by now and being the good person he is asks..."are you okay"?

Ripple Effect

{Self-Portrait}

My mother yelled at me last night.
This makes me act like a small wounded animal; I crawl into my corner, hold my blanket and eat chocolate.

Only my mother can do this to me.

As most of you know, I have a strong personality. I have my definte opinions and have my own way of communicating with the world. I don't when my mother yells at me.

I don't know why she scares me so badly when she does, I'm 18 but when she yells I'm instantly three again. My mother is my kriptonite.

I love her and I know she loves me but when she is mad - give me my blanket and reeses cups...you won't see me for a while.

In the case of my mother I can either fight or flight. I have fought many a time before, I don't like seeing her like that. I don't like me seeing her as that. So I hide.

My mother was angry that I wasn't coming home for Christmas longer. I'm going from the morning of the 23rd to the afternoon of the 28th, I would have liked to stay longer but I have to work. I tried to tell her that and I just started crying and immediately felt sorry for my self.

But I do have to work because I have to pay for things: like the bloody train tickets down and back. My parents pay my rent and God bless them for it but I pay my electricity bill, my gas bill, my tuition, my groceries and my text books. Which is a lot for a part time university student. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm still upset.

The Day of Perfect Sensibility and Progress

{Oh how sensible!}

Today is feeling quaint, that is if a day could feel quaint. Perhaps it is my progress and exceptional time management skills today that feel quaint because I know they will never, ever last.

Well I rose at perfectly sensible hour of 8:50am to wake up, shower {including shaving my entire legs which never happens in the winter because I will not be wearing anything shorter than knee length but for the sake of progress I shave}, get dressed in comfortable university type clothes and head of to speak to a professor. I arrive, we chat, I get accepted into his class of now five. Ooh, I love the small campus. I leave and head over to the library to work and find great literature. After an hour or so I departand head for the local mall. I buy a gift bag and some gum - all perfectly reasonable. I walk over to university campus buildings, drop of required things to drop off and venture into the new student centre where emotion takes over.

It's f-in gorgeous! The student lounge is like a nice hotel. I want to live there.

Now, back to the perfectly reasonable. I take a local paper from the lounge, walk to the movie store, rent When Harry Met Sally for...
Watch out ...unreasonable...for the scene where she fakes an orgasim in a diner and a woman says to a waitress "I want what she's having"...hilarious...

Okay, back to perfectly sensible. I pay my late fees, go home, pick up flyers and my mail, walk up the stairs and to my apartment and sit and think how sensible I am.

And ponder...how long is it going to last?

Let them eat cake and binge drink

{tyr and sotp me, you wont cause you dont care that much}

I know I shouldnt be doing this. But i am. I am drinking while writing an essay. I know that usually I am a responsible, good natured person and I know this blog will surely haunt me when my friends realize what I am doing. And they will respect me less. But this blog is not for their benefit but for mine. Today as the stress hits me; 72.4% on my SoPo project, 64 or somthing % on my ReARg midterm and an essay due tomorrow and an exam and work and a project due that I really need to work on somemore and an overdose on Jaffa Cakes [i admit it a whole box] and late fines and no mooney and course decisions and the fear of rejection all lead me to one conclusion about an hour ago. Crack the music, take off my sweater, open a bottle of booze and dance around my living room like the idiot I secretely am. Hold on...I like this song. And you know what is sadder than all my exploits? The fact that no one living in this city cares enough to stop me. So BAH HUMBUG! I drown my cares in a tiny bottle of booze and don't feel good about it. I wish I was doing something else, somewhere else - I know why university students commit suicide. I heard Trent University students have longer reading weeks because their suicide rate is so high. Makes sense. I won't die but I will dance in my underwear with a bottle of booze in my hand for the most childish reason possible - no one can stop me.

Give Me A Second...

{are you the bird or the idiot in the taxi?}

There are exactly...one...two...three...eight days of school left [not including weekends] and the school work has gotten to the point where I no longer feel like I'm living. I'm not sure what day it is, what is due when, but I know if I stop working I will infact explode. I feel like I haven't stopped working since Monday at 10am; work is only punctuated with sleep at random intervals, phone calls, some eating [not much], showering and the changing of clothes. Not till December 5th will I function properly again. I have become a university robot.

This is actually a rare affliction, only happening to those with some procrastination tendencies, a large workload and the sentiment to actually care about their grades regardless that they are now in University and no longer have to fight to rest uncomfortably in its ivory arms.

As a three month old student I know a few things now that I would like to tell myself back in August if I sometime in the near future recieve a time machine:

• 8:30 classes are brutal and don't get behind in your readings.
• The 21st class is going to be a waste of time.
• Try to eat things before they rot.
• Don't wait to do laundry till your on your last pair of everything.
• Don't let yourself work as much as you do.

These things may seem like common sense but to my own psyche they are not, apparently.

Now time for random questions:

• Is it better for one to speak two languages half descently or one language perfectly?
• If you leave your cell phone in your refrigerator can you hear it when it rings? [tested, the answer is yes - even on vibrate!]
• If the goverment goes to the American time change of two hours each way I will never be able to get up for 8:30 classes, are they really that dumb to do that to me!? [hypothesis, yes they are that dumb]
• Is scratching oneself a nervous or anxious tendency?
• Cellar Door: is it really the most beautiful phrase?
• Do I have a big nose? [no more make over shows for me]

One Week To Take Over the World

{Neon Was Invented Today}

Well, maybe not TAKE over the world but thats what it sure feels like sometimes.
This week has been full of volunteering and commitees and essays and studying some good old fashioned ass-kicking.

I want to be on the journalism guild commitee to help the program grow - but mostly because I'm passionate about journalism, I'm damn smart and I'm the only one I trust not to f this up. And I think my Prof already made me Exec. Should I start printing business cards?

Today I worked on getting things ready for the premiere that I'm organizing and that city hall is going to show up to...boooh ya! I ran around photocopying flyers, fixing press releases, booking rooms and speakers for the second showing and working out story ideas. It twas a day of work but I loved it.

And I woke up at 9 this morning to read the Communist Manifesto. All in a day's work really.

Tonight I have to study, do laundry and continue to plot my world domination. But first...I'm hungry.

To Quote Counting Crows....

{Glorious Sunday Morning}

"I'm In Love, I'm in Love, I'm in Love, I'm in Love, I'm in Love, I'm in Love, Accidentally in Love, Accidentally in Love. "

My hunny surprised me this morning. He told me that Sarah wanted to talk to me before church so I should get there early this morning, so I did. And I waited and there was a knock on the church door and I open it and there is Sarah...with Dave right behind her. Of course I first said "I told you so!" because I had guessed earlier this week that he would be at church on sunday and he denied it. Then I called him a liar...but all was forgiven very very very quickly. He only stayed for the church service because he had to work but it was nice to have someones hand to hold. My goodness I love surprises and my goodness I love him. I am so happy right now!

Pockets: Holders of Keys, Lipbalm and Memories {How Cheesy Was That!?}

{Dry-Cleaned Ticket Stub}

Well as I was cleaning my apartment/looking for my student card I happened apon a pocket. The pocket of my leather jacket filled with some fluff and throat candies and...a ticket stub. A ticket stub from March 16th 2005 when Dave and myself saw Constantine. This of course does not bring memories back to you but it does to me.

When I went up to see Dave in March I hadn't seen him since November 2004 which was obviously painful. Also this was my trip to visit Laurier for the first time (I still thought I was going to Ryerson). Also this was a three day escape from home.

It was a wonderful three days but at the end of it I cried so hard...I remember not wanting to wake Dave's parents up with my sobs the night he had to drive me back to my Aunts which meant I was leaving the next day.

I remember him making fun of our tour guide on the Laurier tour and me thinking "this would be a nice second choice" but by the end of the trip thinking that I should go here instead of Ryerson after all.

I remember getting my acceptance to Laurier the day I toured it, with Matt calling me and telling me and me yelling at him then feeling really really bad and apologizing. I love my little brother.

Its kind of funny that I think back and remember all this just by finding this dry-cleaned ticket stub in a pocket.

I AM... a University Student

{Institutionalized}

I am a university student...
I wait to do laundry till I run out of important some may say essential undergarments
I get excited when frozen pizza is on sale
I love in a non platonic way my coffee maker
I rather sleep in till 12 and stay up till 1 then hold regular hours
I sleep according to my classes (if I have an 8:30am class and then a break I will be napping)
I have learned how to drift off in public places
I have learned to love the clipboard to hold my papers
I know what it is like to not sleep
I stir my coffee with a knife when I don't do dishes
I eat with plastic utensils when I run out of knifes
I procrastinate
I do laundry in the bathtub
I can say "fuck" around my professors and not have to worry about getting sent to the "office"
I have learned to love instant food or starve
I hate the government more than ever for various reasons

Feel free to add your own...

I Can't Be Accountable

{Cinematic Horror}

The scene: young woman, about 18 or possibly older works a John McDermont Concert at the merchandise booth.
Enter: mob of John McDermont crazed adults who don't know how to make a line.
We now watch as the young woman slips rather quickly into bitchy insanity.

At the end of the night we watch as the young womans' self esteem plumits as she realizes she can't count money and comes up short. Next: her boss and the band manager both look at her like a common criminal. Reaction: I want to go home. Time: Midnight...8.5 hours before a midterm she has not studied enough for.

A true story.

5:00am the next day: Young woman awakes and starts to study...but will it be enough?
Cut to 8:45 am: Young woman writing her midterm, gets to multiple choice and resigns herself to the fact that perhaps no, there was not enough studying done but if all else fails she can go home soon and sleep.

Pure blissful sleep.

Sleep she has not had enough of in recent days.

Sleep is wonderful.

She now likes work a little less.

Even though she makes $8.40 an hour.

Too much to do for one young woman who works.

Oh well, she is punished for taking time off and only works not as much in November.

She has to do laundry - the end.

Commander In Chief

{I rock this bitch}
Who's the boss? I'm the boss.

Who is editor/anal retentive/control freak of the BluePrint?! I am!

And who looks very stylish today? THAT WOULD BE ME.

Life goals: accomplished.

Well not really but this is very very exciting. For my journalism project I am going to be editor of BluePrint my very first magazine which we will actually publish and distribute and hopefully get me good grades, awesome clippings and not kill me in the process. All loftly goals yes but its me I can do anything.

Except get motivated to study for my midterm that is. I just can't do it so I'm doing anything else instead of what I should be doing. Alas, I procrastinate again.

But besides that horrible moot point I am so excited about my paper. And the staff seems to be really good. So yeah for that.

Oh and I found out I make $8.40 an hour! WOW. I thought I only made $7.45! GO CITY JOB!

Good Samaritian Rewarded with Pastry

{Pastry Thwarts All}

The other day - it felt like Sunday but it was actually Thursday when I went to work I encountered a problem that I could solve. One of the little ol' ladies at my work had an apple tree that dropped hundreds of apples but being of age could not pick them up herself so they rotted and ruined her large lawn. I saw a solution: me being of age to pick up apples would indeed go pick them up for her, dispose of the rotten apples and take the nice ones since she wouldn't have them and do something helpful with them. So that is what I did and apples where retrieved. They were brought home and with the help of Colleen were in the next two days transformed into magical pies. Magical you say? Yes, magical - because they were a solution. Solutions are magical, especially helpful solutions. A problem - apples too many - turned into pies of six. Pies of six were distributed into those in need of pastry. Pastry was consumed. Hunger was solved. The world is at peace.