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Archive for August, 2008

What kind of a loser has exams in the summer?

Erm, that would be the “me” kind, unfortunately. Though, this is largely because apart from being a loser, I’m also a gargantuan moron for signing up for summer school to begin with.

Was I really that desperate to knock off credits from my degree, that I was willing to subject myself to such tediousness, while everyone else around me is partying it up like it’s 1999 (complete with BSB and Puff Daddy songs, too)?

I need a drink.

Addendum: Oh, thank god. Canada finally has some medals. I was getting worried there for a minute. I mean, Togo and Uzbekistan were beating us!

So, a big hearty thank you goes to Verbeek for winning us a bronze medal in wrestling, the two not ugly guys (Frandsen and Calder) for winning us a silver medal in rowing, and to Huynh (AzN pRyDe, FTW) for winning us a gold medal in wrestling.

Hopefully, this is just the beginning. So, Adam van Koeverden, don’t let me down, ‘mkay?

[Oh, and don't you love how my little (well, it was supposed to be little) post script is longer than my actual original post? :P]

 

 

The “I don’t really know what to post” post.

I totally had this super epic post that was all, like, witty and clever and so atypically not me. But then, the world ended, and my laptop quasi broke, and now it’s all gone. Gone. As in, Nsync gone. And, well, nevermind.

I don’t really feel like reliving the cleverness (mainly because I’m pretty sure that was one of those planets-aligning-and-the-stars-singing kind of thing. So. I’m going to bore you with random stuff. Starting now.

++ It looks like I’m still going to be singing at his wedding. And by “his,” I really mean the wedding of this guy that I may or may not be completely in love with. Except I’m lame and stupid and lame and will probably never ever tell him, unless I’m ever under the influence of absinthe. Anyway. Clearly, I’m a masochist, and I thrive on all the emo powers of pain and agony that currently circle the earth (thanks, Chris Carraba). If you have any ideas for a song that’s semi-tolerable, and won’t cause me to throw up in my mouth, please, let me know. Otherwise, I may have to be defaulted into singing something atrocious (read: God Bless the Broken Road). Or, worse, I might channel my inner emo, and bust out with this.

++ I’m probably going to get burned, slashed, and maimed for this, but am I the only one who doesn’t understand why Twilight by Stephanie Meyers is such a popular book? Posters, books, and other assorted paraphernalian of it are plastered all over Chapters in South Keys. And I mean, plastered. They even have a section called “Bella’s Book List.” Why? Just…why? It’s entirely misogynistic. The main character is a glorified self-insert Mary Sue, the hero is like a bastardized version of fanon!Draco on speed (umm, creature fic, anyone?), and the author seems to think that her target demographic are all shallow, vapid, and idiotic. It’s almost like reading for two hours out of Fanfiction.net or Fictionpress.com - absolutely mind-numbing. Case in point: open up a random chapter in the book, and count how many references there are of Edward’s good looks, marble lips, and shiny hair. Please. If you ever feel the need to read or see an incredibly cheesy love story with a faux plot and supernatural characters, watch Phantom of the Opera instead. At least the hero there can hit a high A. Hotness.

++ Livejournal? Is eating my brain. I need to stop reading porn being so involved in fandom. Except, really, who am I kidding? How can I ever stay away from the Janto and the JSquared and the Wincest and the McShep and the Drarry and the AS/S and the porn? And, god. I’m probably going to burn in hell.

++ This? Pretty much the best thing, ever. It’s this talk show host dude, who has this penchance for asking his guest, “Who would you turn gay for?” Winning response? This:

Matt Damon: I guess you gotta go with Ben Affleck.
Rove: I was almost not going to give you the money if you didn’t say him. I mean, yeah, okay, you know George Clooney, you know Brad Pitt. Yawn. Go with the original and the best.
Matt Damon: Go with the kid I would have turned gay for when I was ten.

WIN. Just…win.

++ I need to find a job. Not in the I’m-destitute-and-I-need-to-live kind of way, but more in the I-need-to-stop-sitting-about-and-eating-pierogies kind of way. So my Ottawa peeps - if you’ve got any connections for me, please let me know. I’ll bake you cookies and brownies and cake. Possibly with Jensen Ackles on top. Though, only possibly (because I’d like to keep him as my very own personal sex slave, thanks).

++ Oh, and I finally got a hold of the new Death Cab album (yes, I know, shame on me). Guh. You know, I almost forgot why I love them so much. And then I listened to I Will Possess Your Heart on repeat for three hours. And all is right in the world again. Because a four and a half minute intro? Epic.

And, erm, that’s it.

 

 

Of birthdays, weekend family trips, and really cute kids.

It was my Mom’s birthday last Sunday, so we decided to go on a little family road trip over the long weekend to Kingston and Montreal. And by family road trip, I really mean me, my mom, my stepdad, and a seven car entourage of close family friends.

With thirty-two of us traveling together, you can pretty much imagine just how we invaded the two cities ;). I’m not really sure how we managed it, but thanks to Bassez the GPS, a lot of radio walkie talkies, copious amounts of Doritos and rice cakes, and Seth Cohen the iPod, we survived the weekend.

Warning: picture obesity after the cut, yo.

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