like a very hairy jake gyllenhaal to me

word, kanye.

everything is better with champagne in it.



and, i would also run so far to be with andy samberg.

the greatest

it's 12:19 and way past my bedtime. i'm listening to cat power, and deciding that updating my blog is something that i can do to hopefully pass enough time for me to feel tired again.

even though i've been tired all week. working the evening shift at work, and then on call at night. i've been lucky - no calls the past two nights. but karma has run out. maybe i shouldn't have beaten that old lady down and taken her ice cream. because tonight. three calls. two of which resulted in me going back into the hospital. one of which resulted in me getting out of my cozy bed 40 minutes ago.

yup. saving lives.

and stressing out.

eight ours of work, and thirteen hours of sitting by your pager wondering if it's going to go off at 3am. it's exhausting. lately, i've been taking work home with me - mentally - and second guessing myself about actions that i take during the day. things i should have done, things i could have done differently. it's not fun. i want to leave work and not have fifty thousand thoughts running through my head.

i think it's late, so i'm in a complaining mood. but i have three more days of this shit, and it sucks. so i need to complain. and it's my blog, so i get to complain all i want.

i also get to talk about how i sat next to a provincial mla on my flight home from vancouver last week, and how he loves liquidation world, and how he called me fly. actually, he called me fliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. in a high pitched voice as one would imagine will smith as the fresh prince of bel air would say it.

i wish that at this minute i was on whatever he was on.

you say your empty mind is easy when it's drugged

i have no idea how to play squash. yet, today my friend - who also knows nothing of squash - and i decided that we should try to play. turns out squash is harder than people who actually know how to play squash make it look. who knew? raquetball is easy, as the ball actually bounces. squash is hard. but FUN. because you can beat the crap out of the ball, and not worry about it coming back to hit you in the face at 140 km/hr. i just need to find someone who knows how to play the game to teach me, then i'll be good to go.

in other non-athletic news, i'm going to attempt again this year to head back to my alma mater to attend the college's annual career fair. yeah, i'm going to try to recruit people. ha. well, i mean i will actually try - but really. unless i hand out pills at the same time which brainwash people into thinking that moving to a *stinky* northern bc community is a good idea, i have a feeling it's really not going to be that productive. but who knows.

i was all signed up to go to this event last year, but it turns out mother nature had other plans for me, and made it so that the airport was so foggy no planes were landing. or taking off. which worked out for the best, as it turned out i almost died that weekend with the Worst Cold Ever anyways.

but i can already tell this will be a good weekend. there are shows both nights i'm going to be there that i want to see. tokyo police club. the weakerthans. huzzah! not only to i get a free trip to visit friends (and work) but i get to see music. real. live. music. wheeeee! and i get to eat at amigos. yessssss. i love amigos and their delicious, sweet, sweet, veggie burgers.

okay - on a totally different note, i can't wait to see across the universe. can NOT wait. isn't anyone else totally stoked for this movie?

shut up and drive

i sat through two hours of vmas tonight. because i like procrastinating. but there were some highlights from the show that i have to share.

#1. JT clearly dissing (but perhaps not intentionaly) the hills crew right after they freshly presented him with an award...by telling mtv to play more videos...and less reality tv. zing.
#2. jennifer garner calling gym class heroes 'gym class fallout'. ha. cause it's true. to quote from a commentator during stereogum's live vma blog, 'fall out boy is the biggest waste of air in the history of breathing and air and history and waste and boys'. and ps - who knew jg hated on emo so much? who knew she even knew emo existed enough to hate on emo?
#3. tommy lee and kid rock getting into a fight. too bad it wasn't on tv. a girl can only hope for youtube.
#4. britney's comeback. and by comeback, i mean half walking/half dancing routine. christ, she didn't even try to lipsynch in time with the track.
#5. the back of timbaland's head. what's up with it? it looks like a sharpei.
#6. the appearance of justice's d.a.n.c.e. on a commercail outro. good track.

that's about it. other than that, i'll never get those two hours of my life back, nor will i ever need to see timbaland in a tanktop again.

paranoid android

i am perturbed.

this is a moment which calls for large words that express my disdain.

i went to london drugs tonight. that in itself isn't unusual. i go to london drugs often enough. i like browsing around.

what has sent me into an emotional spiral is what happened at the check-out as i was trying to buy my new copy of spin. prior to The Incident, i was standing on line* nonchalantly flipping through the pages of the crisp new magazine. (side note: i am a monthly spin buyer, but am especially excited that rilo kiley is on the cover...'silver lining' is one of the best songs i've heard in a long time. go listen.)

so, back to the story. lady infront of me finishes paying, and i step up to the counter, when i get what i think is going to be a friendly offer. 'we were running a promotion which is now over' whispers the cashier as she slyly reaches into a box tucked beside the counter, 'but do you think you would like one of these?'

i get giddy. even through the new magazine excitement haze, i know the lady infront of me didn't get this secret offer. i feel like i'm being let into some special underground london drugs fan club, where only the most special customers get offered special prizes.

then It happens.

she pulls out. a. fannypack.

i slightly recoil. not just a fannypack. but an electric blue. surfs up. fannypack.

i panic. how does one kindly reject the offer of a free fannypack which a cashier has generally gone out of her way to offer you? and a secret after-promotion fannypack at that?

'thanks' i stammer, 'but i don't think i'd use it'. i grabbed my twenty cents change and booked it for the door, trying not to vomit from a sense of shock and disgust.

once outside, a whirlwind of emotions hit me at once. why has she chosen me to receive a sacred end of promotion fannypack? it hits me like a mack truck. ohmygod. DO I LOOK LIKE THE KIND OF PERSON WHO WOULD WEAR A FANNYPACK?

shit. i have spent my life trying to erase the memory of the pink fannypack i once work around disneyworld. hell, i would rather wear that fannypack than this one.

now i'm having some kind of fannypack identity crisis, and am wondering if i should ever leave the house again, for fear of being mistaken again as someone who would ever use a fannypack.

i think i am in need of a stiff drink, and a large dose of move-to-another-city-so this-doesn't-happen-again.

*i have decided to use the american vernacular