A whole new world

I am the goddess of transit.

I can now tell you in no uncertain terms the 7 different reliable ways that will get you from the Edmonds area in Burnaby 4th and Burrard. I can tell you which routes have the best bus drivers (the 84 UBC all the way) and what routes will have the most angry people (the 7 Powell at 5:00 pm is alarming).

I can also tell you what classes where all the med students live (Robson and Burrard), where the rude people live (near Granville Island) and the music choices of the transit travelller on which route (the 44 UBC appeals to the Christian Rock listener while the 84 UBC has a fair amount of emo).

Its a whole new adventure for me! A world of new people to watch!

HOORAY!

There are no words...

thank you Evil Beet...

Fashion is not for the faint of heart...

I think if I had all the time in the world...you know, didn't have to work for a living or any of that stuff, I would dabble in fashion design.

And jewelry design.

And cooking.

And light automotive repair.

Okay, I'm not so good at the focusing thing, but I WOULD love to be a fashion designer.

I remember making clothing for my Barbies when I was young. I made tiny ball gowns, accessories, costumes etc.

I made my grad dress in grade 12, much to the chagrin of my grad date as I was sewing up until 2 hours before the dance.

I love to sew, create, play with clothing and fabric, but these days, I just don't have the time or the room.

Stupid apartment living.

Lately, I have been getting my fashion fix from Project Runway Canada.

I am quite impressed by it actually. It has its own personality and the designers do some great stuff. I don't really understand why Iman is hosting...I would have thought someone like Linda Evangelista would have been a better choice, but Iman isn't too bad.

My current favourite designer on the show is Biddell.

He is a self-taught designer. From skater gear to bridal gowns, Biddell’s self-described “Street Couture” has been featured in boutiques in Calgary, Vancouver (El Kartel has carried his line), and Victoria. He describes his aesthetic as loud and clean—clothes that get noticed.

I LOVE his stuff-so fun and crazy. I am going to have to track down his stuff. Its fierce baby...fierce.

GO BIDELL GO!

ooops...

My husband berated me last night for being a bad blogger.

Which is, of course, true.

I have been a HORRIBLE blogger.

I blame my job.

In the past, I blogged at work due to boredom and general job hatred.

I now love my job so much I may explode.

So I need to actually blog at home. On my own time. wow. THAT will be a challenge.

Except for today. Today I am blogging at work as there is a small lull before the sacrifice.

I am not making this up.

Today we are sacrificing a 21’’ flat screen monitor and a 1998 vintage Mac Laserwriter printer at the top of the back stairwell.

I love my job.

Blog Action Day

Today is Blog Action Day!

Today thousands of bloggers around the world are blogging about the environment.

I know issues surrounding our little green planet can be contentious to say the least. I am sure many people find the concept of global warming confusing and insurmountable.

What can we do? Is there anything TO do? Is this all one colossal conspiracy to get Al Gore in office?

So today...the lights are going off and the veggies are coming out at the Acting Responsible household. We area going to work on minimum electrical power, turn down the heat and eat a low footprint meal containing organically grown local produce for dinner! YAY US!

Here are a few fabulous resources that not only help you make your OWN decision on climate change and global warming, but will help you to do YOUR part to keep our planet happy, healthy and here for a long long time...

What are YOU going to do???

We Can Live Green
A fantastic portal for all things you may need to go and live green. From cosmetics to food to travel, the folks at We Can Live Green have put together an amazing list of resources!

Greentech Media
Have some money burning a hole in your pocket that you need to invest RIGHT NOW? The folks at Greentech Media have your back!

DeSmogBlog
The folks at DeSmogBlog are aiming to clear the PR Pollution that clouds climate science. Not really sure what to believe? The pr pundits at DeSmogBlog can help you find all the information you may need on BOTH sides of the debate!!!

The Final countdown

WOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO!

It's the last week of work for me.

I can't stop grinning.

For the last few days, whenever people see me they say.

"Wow...you are glowing. Why do you look so happy?"

BECAUSE I AM ALMOST DONE MY JOB! WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I have two days with the hated board president Mimi (yech). I am going to try to be the bigger person (although that is physically impossible. The woman is built like Refrigerator Perry and smells like llama poop). It should be interesting. They have decided not to hire anyone to replace me, which is both a compliment and insulting as it means that I am irreplaceable (yah me), AND they think that they don't need anyone to do my job (jerks).

I am trying not to care too much. I put so much into this job and I have seen so much growth and I KNOW they are going to lose all of that. I am hoping that they wake up and realize how important the relationships etch I set up are for them, but I am not holding my breath.

It alarms me how horrible they have been in fact. One would think that being the worlds smallest non profit, they would try to avoid burning bridges and try to cultivate me as a volunteer and supporter. Instead they have alienated me. It does reaffirm my thought that they all live with their heads firmly planted up their asses though...

Soon...it will all be over and I will start the new DREAM job at the new fantastic place. They have already given me my office mug and new email address:) I feel so loved...

Is it just me, or is this a redundant conversation?

I had the following conversation with our building manager on Tuesday after the heinous car abuse that my wee little Protege had suffered...

Me: "Hi, I wanted to talk to you about the break in to my car."

He: "There is nothing I can do about it. Call ICBC."

Me: "Yes...I know that. I've done that already. I just thought you should know that our car got broken into. As did quite a few others."

He: "Yes, I talked to them yesterday. Its not very good. We should get cameras, but the strata won't pay for it"

Me: "I can see how that would be a problem. I also need a new access card as mine was taken from my car. Yes, i know we aren't supposed to leave them in the car, but you wouldn't give us two so we had to leave it in there as there are two of us with one car."

He: "Oh no! That's not good. Now they can get in the parking garage!"

Um...I think that may be where the problem started in the first place.

The apartment hunt has begun-west end, main street and downtown-I hear you calling me!

Thou pribbling clapper-clawed giglet!

I have discovered the online Shakespearean Insult Kit.

Oh kit, where have you been all my life?

I really need it today, for some errant fen-sucking miscreants BROKE INTO MY CAR!

RRRRRRRRRRRRRR

There I was, calmly enjoying turkey, roast and a copious amount of wine, beer and Jack Daniels at the in-laws on Vancouver Island when some puny boil-brained varlet was SMASHING MY DRIVERS SIDE WINDOW. IN MY SECURE UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE!!!! And they stole NOTHING! NOTHING!

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

A pox on their houses.

This week is not starting off well...not starting off well at all.

I need to laugh.

Perhaps THIS will do...



Ahhhhhhhhh

Thank you Pete and Brian...thank you...

Quick health question

Is trail mix, or "gorp" as the true geeks used to call it when I was in Girl Guides, still considered a healthy snack alternative to a bag of Lay's Sour Cream and Onion Ripple Chips if you eat a pound of it in one sitting?

Probably not huh?

Crap.

Funny fornication?

In the process of looking for inspiration for my next writing project, I asked my husband what HE thought I should be scribbling about.

"Something humourous. There aren't that many female comedic writers-why don't you try to write something funny that ISN'T about shopping or diaries or turning 30. Just make sure its not about me. Because that's NOT funny. At all. Its especially not funny when you make fun of my accent. You are going to make fun of my accent aren't you. You suck."

French Canadian accents are fun. Go on-head out and ask a French Canadian to say "intersection", "drawer" or anything with a "th" in it. In fact, if you can get them to say "Who put that chest of drawers in the intersection", you'll be laughing for hours. Comedy FODDER!

But I digress.

So, I got on the trusty computer and started exploring that wacky world wide web for possible outlets for my acerbic, yet heartfelt wit. Something that will inspire my fingers to fly about the keyboard that isn't about my wacky neighbours or the drunks at the New West skytrain station.

And I discovered that apparently, there is a need for...wait for it...

Comedic erotica.

There are publishers out there looking for comedic erotica.

More than one publisher.

I can't even BEGIN to fathom what I would write...

Clowns having sex?

A description of me losing my virginity? (MOM! STOP READING THIS RIGHT NOW!!!!) 1989-the bathroom floor...hitting my head on the toilet and burning my leg on the heater. A regular laugh fest. Nope-I am pretty sure that's not what they are looking for. And I would potentially die of embarrassment in the process of writing it (who has sex on the bathroom floor for their first time? WHO?)

In fact, ANY story about experiences with my first few boyfriends (MOM! I WARNED YOU!). Those were all laugh riots, let me tell you. Phones were answered, closet doors fell on my head, clothing was put on backwards just before my dad walked in the room.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Honestly, its amazing I ever had sex again... (MOM! GO AWAY!)

Somehow, I JUST don't think that is what they mean...

Miss Manner's guide to dressing appropriately: Chapter 1

An open letter to the man living somewhere on the third floor in my apartment building.

Dear sir,

You seem to be a very nice man. We have chatted several times in the elevator and while walking up the stairs. You are very polite, always hold the door open for me, and have intelligent things to say. I have suspicions that you are a member of the Russian Mafia as you drive a Mercedes Compressor AND an M Class SUV and live in a small somewhat nasty apartment building in Burnaby. You also have a ludicrous hair weave that nobody thinks is real. Nobody.

Now sir, I am not a fashion dictator. I understand that sometimes, one needs to wander downstairs to throw out the garbage in ones pyjamas. What Not To Wear isn't ALWAYS filming with hidden cameras and sometimes, you just need to be comfortable.

However sir, there is a limit to comfort.

Imagine my surprise when I got on to the elevator this morning and discovered you in your housecoat and aqua sox. AQUA SOX! HOUSECOAT! WHAT?

I was willing to let that slide and give you the benefit of the doubt. I was assuming you were heading to the garbage or recycling-there was no garbage evident, but maybe you were looking for something. However, when you turned toward the cars as I was and headed to your SUV I began to doubt that you were looking for your lost keys in amidst the detritus of our wee building. Perhaps you had just forgotten something in your car?

No... no...you had not.

You LEAPED into your car (and in the process revealed that you were not, in fact, wearing anything under your housecoat...AAAAAAAAAAAAA), turned it on, and DROVE AWAY! IN YOUR HOUSECOAT AND AQUA SOX! AND WEARING NOTHING UNDER YOUR HOUSECOAT! AAAAAAAA!

I didn't need to see that sir. I didn't need to see your wedding tackle. Your crown jewels. Your frank and beans. Any of it. It may have scarred me. It was a totally unexpected display of nudity and honestly sir...it wasn't...well...some people just shouldn't be nude. We'll just leave it at that.

I am concerned sir. It concerns me that you seem to think its okay to wander the streets in your housecoat. With no pants. Or underpants. In fact, wearing NOTHING resembling pants. It is not okay. It is not okay at all. You are not Nick Nolte. It wasn't okay for him either.

How hard is it to put on pants and a shirt? And appropriate footwear? Honestly, its not that difficult. I do it every day and I am NOT a morning person! I can barely even see when I leave the house, yet I am still DRESSED! I am not even asking for coordination-just common decency.

And pants.

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY PUT ON SOME PANTS!

Signed,

The now slightly scarred blonde from the second floor.

Forced Creativity

This weekend, as I was getting more and more angry at the thought that I had to come to work on Monday to the evil job from hell because my bosses have become giant flaming assholes of evil that I want to stab several times and spit in the gaping wounds, I thought to myself that perhaps I need to put more energy into the creative side of myself in order to release some of that pent up energy. And anger. Crap loads of anger.

I always used to think of myself as a creative soul. I headed off to theatre school with my handmade sweaters, sketch book and journal ready to take on the world one creative act at a time. But as of late, I find I define myself less as a creative soul and more as...well...just me. I don't think its a BAD thing-I find people are WAY TOO hampered by their definitions of themselves. My coworker has decided that she is a warm person and very empathetic, and because I am not like her, I am by extension NOT warm OR empathetic (which is of course horse poop. I am warm and empathetic. I just don't cry at the drop of a hat. Maybe at the drop of a REALLY nice pair of shoes, but certainly not a hat).

I think however I need to work on fostering that creative side more-whatever that may be. I am losing myself in my work and in reality television, and that's just not right. The problem is it takes work, and I am REALLY BAD at motivating myself. I LOVE motivating other people (you there! Lunchy! GET PUBLISHING! The Georgia Straight is ONLY the beginning!).

There is also the problem of DEFINING creativity. Many people think of creativity of being artistic in nature, but that isn't necessarily true. In one of my past jobs, I worked at a biotechnology company, and let me tell you, those scientists were pretty darned creative. No only with what they wore (seriously-the whole "scientists are badly dressed geeks" thing is pretty well spot on. Yes, some were quite fashionable, but some...well...lets just say REALLY tiny jean shorts on a 45 year old Russian engineer and leave it at that). So if I am creative in the WAY that I work, does that suffice? No...not so much.

And then there is the problem that I have the ability to focus on one task of a hyperactive 3 year old. Sure, its all well and good for me to sit down and write that one woman show in which I showcase by BRILLIANT comedic skills, mad tap dancing chops and singing voice of an angel, but guaranteed I will be distracted by a shiny thing. Or Beauty and the Geek. Or breathing.

Sigh...WAY to deep for a Monday morning. I should be busy drinking coffee and catching up on all the Hollywood gossip that I missed out on over the weekend.
Like Pamela Anderson's impending wedding. To Rick Solomon, the star of Paris Hilton's sex tape. Oh Pam, Pam, Pam. I love you, your fantastically fake breasts, your commitment to your causes, and the fact that you KNOW you are a cheesy, fake blonde bimbo (AND proud Canadian), but sweetie..you have GOT to start marrying a better class of men.

And that, dear reader, is Monday's set of random ramblings. Tune in later for my observations on people napping ON MY CAR at 3 in the afternoon on a Friday. Seriously...it really happened...

Robosaurus

Tim: What do you call a blind dinosaur?
Dr. Alan Grant: I don't know.
Tim: A Do-you-think-he-saurus.
Dr. Alan Grant: Ha ha. Good one.
Tim: What do you call a blind dinosaur's dog?
Dr. Alan Grant: You got me.
Tim: A Do-you-think-he-saurus Rex

There are times when I get up in the morning and I think to myself that really, things couldn't get any stupider.

I mean, lets be real. There is some stupid shit going on out there, and there has been for awhile. Dane Cook for one (I know, I keep going on about Dane Cook but I JUST DON'T GET IT! The man is simply not funny or even marginally talented. His mere existence could be proof that there is a Supreme Evil Being and that Dane is one of his unfunny minions that is trying to create hell on earth. I'm just saying...). Britney Spears and our INCESSANT fascination with her crash into oblivion (also note-Rihanna has come out in the press defending her. Maybe she should protect poor Brit with her umbrella). Crocs. The cancellation of Arrested Development. Operation Return on Success.

However, its has been a long time since I have been truly STUNNED by anything. Nothing really surprises me anymore.

Until now...

Stanley Park, where robot dinos roam?

Okay...that has to be a lie. It's in the Province newspaper-Vancouver's answer to the National Enquirer. It has to be wrong. Maybe I'll look elsewhere...

Stanley Park considers 'Jurassic Park'-like exhibit

All right, CTV is saying the same thing. But maybe they are just jumping on the sensationalist bandwagon. I mean who would believe that they would consider putting robot dinosaurs in Stanley Park...how about the Globe and Mail?

'Dinosaur experience' could give Vancouver its own Jurassic Park

Dear lord.

Someone has let the lunatics out of the asylum and they are RUNNING AMOK IN STANLEY PARK!

The Vancouver Parks Board is requesting proposals from "experienced proponents" (HUH?)to install 25 to 30 life-sized animatronic dinosaurs and related educational exhibits near the miniature 1.5-kilometre railway. So in other words, they want robot dinosaurs to freak the SHIT out of the kids on the miniature railway.

Robot dinosaurs.

In Stanley Park.

ROBOT DINOSAURS IN STANLEY PARK!!!!!

I am at a total loss. I am simply stunned into...well...not speechlessness, but certainly mild incoherence.

ROBOT FREAKING DINOSAURS!!!!!!

Am I alone in this? Am I the only person who thinks that this is an amazingly bad idea? We have the WORLD coming here for the 2010 Olympics-that's already enough pressure. Do we REALLY want them to come here and say...

"Wow...cool Olympics. Vancouver really IS a World Class...wait...is that a Robot Dinosaur?"

Miss Manner's Guide to Tranist Chapter 3

A letter to the beer drinking troglodyte on the 5:35 pm skytrain on September 26, 2007. (The teenage girls got away with being obnoxious this time because this guy was SIMPLY UNBELIEVABLE! But be warned girls-I am on this train for 3 more weeks and I will be watching you)
Dear sir,

I appreciate that the New Westminster Skytrain station is connected to a bar called Scruffy McGuire's (no, I am not making this up. I wish I was). I appreciate that sometimes after a hard day of...well...whatever it is you do, you sometimes need a beer to wash the cares away. I will be honest with you sir. As of late, as the end of my hated job approaches and my employers mutate further into assholeness, I have been known to have a snort of rum with my diet coke. I am not above that in the slightest. Sometimes it just needs to be done.

I do, however, understand that there are certain things that are not done in public due to COMMON DECENCY. Like belching SO LOUDLY that your fellow commuters think there is an earthquake or the construction site next door is collapsing.

Note: At this point my husband is yelling and pointing at the computer because I once inadvertently burped loudly when we were in a store and blamed him. It only happened once though. And it was in Gibson's Landing, home of the Beachcombers so how bad could it be. And it wasn't THAT loud. But I digress.

Now sir, if you ARE going to belch that loudly, you must do two things:

1. Say excuse me FOR GOD'S SAKE! Were you born in a BARN?
2. When a blonde girl wearing a FIERCE white leather jacket with great new hair (I got a new haircut that I LOVE LOVE LOVE! Victor-you are a genius) looks your way inquisitively, DON'T yell at her and say "What the fuck are YOU looking at bitch". You KNOW what she is looking at. SHE IS LOOKING AT YOUR UGLY BELCHING FACE!!!!

Sorry about that...that was a bit violent.

Now sir, one belch could be almost forgivable. Even if it was the loudest thing ever. In the history of belching. And believe me, I have heard some loud ones. I play football. I know of what I speak.

However, if you follow that belch up with one that is EVEN LOUDER and LONGER than EVER THOUGHT POSSIBLE, you MUST expect a reaction from your fellow commuters.

Like the little old lady that shrieked and ran toward me. In a panic. I don't know what she thought I was going to do to protect her from the angry gas man, but I was ready.

And if you RESPOND to that reaction by CHASING HER and belching AGAIN, you must expect people to respond negatively. Like moving away from you rapidly and contacting the skytrain police. (Who of course never got there because they were rousting tourists who didn't pay enough train fare. Because cheap tourists are a scourge...as opposed to angry gassy psychopaths. Come on people...get your priorities straight.)

AND THEN when the train arrives, and you BELCH on to your train car of choice, do not be surprised when your fellow commuters flee out of the train.

AND FINALLY...please do not be encouraged by the reaction you got from the one, fellow beer drinking commuter on your train. Which was...of course...

"Dude! That was AWESOME!"

Sigh...

Signed,

Blonde in fierce white leather jacket on behalf of...well...the world

There is a part of me that is going to miss these daily interactions with my fellow commuters as I will be working near Granville Island as opposed to near the dead pigeon on the corner (I am not making this up-a pigeon expired as I was walking by it a few weeks ago. It fell over and blood oozed out of its head. I cannot get out of here fast enough).

The part of me that will miss these interactions is very small however. Very very small.

RIP pigeon-we hardly knew you.

I QUIT!

Today I quit my job.

Wow.

I got the "really super cool job".

Wow.

The next few weeks are going to kill me as I frantically clean up from this job AND start getting up to speed on the next job.

Wow.

I am NEVER AGAIN going to have do deal with the GIANT FLAMING COW that is my present boss.

WOW!

I am INSANELY excited. I am about to go to work at THE COOLEST PLACE ON EARTH!

They have a boccie team and an office dog.

I am going to be working in a hyper creative atmosphere with loft ceilings and proximity to fabulous restaurants and ease of transit.

They think I rock.

I am FREAKING OUT!!!!!

Wow.

A-List-Defective Yeti

One of my favourite bloggers is Defective Yeti. This blog is penned by Matthew Baldwin, a brilliantly erudite writer from Seattle, Washington with a fabulously biting sense of humour.

His posts range from random poetry, to photoshopped sillies, to posts on his autistic son "The Squiggle".

His blog post from a few days ago doesn't even come close to showing his writing chops, but I appreciated the title and the content. Its a regular "series" by him...well regular in that he has done the "Bad Review Revue" a few times...but nothing you can set your clock by.

I give you...Defective Yeti! Explore him...read him...send him treats (well, I don't know about the treats..I know I like treats, but he may not feel the same way. Just send me treats then)

The Bad Review Revue

I am so ashamed

I have an embarassing admission to make...

I LOVE America's Next Top Model.

Its like TV Crack-I know its bad for me, but really, I just can't get enough.

There's the drama, the anorexia, Tyra Banks, Tyra's ludicrous weave (its kind of blonde this time...LOVE IT!), Tyra's PHENOMENAL booty (seriously, she is as annoying as crap, but at least the girl has some curves), Miss J, Mr J and of course the EXTRAORDINARILY sexually ambiguous (yes I know he's married...but i am still suspicious) and FIERCELY hot Nigel Barker. Rrowr.

This year promises to be MAGICAL!

Some of the models are quite dull. I am assuming they will be told by Tyra "you will no longer be in the running to be America's Next Top model and lose out on the fantastic prizes from our sponsors who I will mention over and over and over again." SOME of these models however are CRAZY IN A BOX! LOVE IT!

We have...

Ebony
Raised by a Crack Whore (seriously, her words, not mine), she is already hated by everyone. Arrogant as hell, and I honestly don't see why, this one will be responsible for a majority of the fireworks.


Heather
Heather has Asperger's Syndrome. Asperger's is one of several Autism Spectrum Disorders (ASD) characterized by difficulties in social communication and social skills, and in restricted and stereotyped interests and activities.

Now, what I am about to say is going to sound evil and bitchy. But really....how does Asperger's make her ANY different from the regular starlet/model. Bad social skills, restricted interests and a wee bit wacky. ANTM DOES have a reputation to uphold-they MUST have someone with some kind of "special needs" on ever episode.

Dyslexia
Lupus
Plus Size Model

And now....Asperger's.

Heather made a speech that she was there representing the underdog-the kid that got picked on in class, the one's hiding in the corner.

Riiight....the ones in the corner that are tall skinny and pretty...THOSE ONES? WHICH CORNER IS SHE LOOKING AT???

Bianca

Another fabulous girl from the hood. She has already called out Ebony and her $500.00 weave (Bianca's weave cost only $25.00. GO BIANCA GO). Bianca is one of the few girls on this cycle that I actually think is quite stunning! She has some FIERCE attitude and I am predicting a full on hair pulling cat fight with Ebony! SWEET!

Sarah
The token plus sized model.

Yup...thats right.

PLUS SIZED!

I freaking hate that. She's the only normal looking one and she is FREAKING PLUS SIZED!

Gorgeous though...but a bit bland. I don't think she is going to last.

There were a few criers of course, and next week looks like it is going to be fireworks already. I am already trying to figure out who they are going to shave bald for the make over episode.

OH WHAT FUN!

I am not going to make a call on the winner until after the makeover episode-its easier to see who they are favouring after that episode.

God I love this show.

I am so ashamed...

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

My pirate name is:

Black Bess Flint

Like anyone confronted with the harshness of robbery on the high seas, you can be pessimistic at times. Like the rock flint, you're hard and sharp. But, also like flint, you're easily chipped, and sparky. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

Avast me hearties! It's international talk like a pirate day! Today is the day to search for booty and swash your buckles!

In honour of pirate day, i give you the top 10 pirate pick up lines for both boy and girl pirates...maybe this will help you find some booty. ha ha.

Boy Pirates...

10 . Avast, me proud beauty! Wanna know why my Roger is so Jolly?

9. Have ya ever met a man with a real yardarm?

8. Come on up and see me urchins.

7. Yes, that is a hornpipe in my pocket and I am happy to see you.

6. I'd love to drop anchor in your lagoon.

5. Pardon me, but would ya mind if fired me cannon through your porthole?

4. How'd you like to scrape the barnacles off of me rudder?

3. Ya know, darlin’, I’m 97 percent chum free.

2. Well blow me down?

And the number one pickup line for Boy Pirates is …

1. Prepare to be boarded.

Girl Pirates...

10. What are YOU doing here?

9. Is that a belayin' pin in yer britches, or are ye ... (this one is never completed)

8. Come show me how ye bury yer treasure, lad!

7. So, tell me, why do they call ye, "Cap'n Feathersword?"

6. That's quite a cutlass ye got thar, what ye need is a good scabbard!

5. Aye, I guarantee ye, I've had a twenty percent decrease in me "lice ratio!"

4. I've crushed seventeen men's skulls between me thighs!

3. C'mon, lad, shiver me timbers!

2. RAMMING SPEED!

...and the number one pick up line for Girl Pirates

1. You. Pants Off. Now!

Good luck with your booty

Captain Sunshine

There are times when I am down, when I feel that nothing will take me out of the deep blue funk that I am in.

Lately, most of those times have been while I am at work (Seriously. My boss is a giant cow. I actually call her something else that begins with a c usually, but i don't want to offend virgin eyes). My office atmosphere is quite relaxed, so I play a lot of music while I work. NOTHING, but NOTHING brings me out of my funk better than...
NEIL DIAMOND!!!!!

I love Neil Diamond. I really do.

He is a crazy, glitter encrusted performing dynamo. I would LOVE to see him in concert. Sadly Nearly Neil is the best I have been able to get-and he's pretty darn good-but hell...he's no Neil...he's NEARLY Neil.

I just pop on a bit of "Hot August Night" or The Jazz Singer or even the good old Greatest Hits, and I am GOLDEN!

Neils newish album 12 Songs is a bit of a departure from good old "Song Song Blue" and "Forever in Blue Jeans", but I have really been enjoying it lately. It doesn't drive me out of my funk like his some of other albums as it is much more intimate and pared down, although the song Delirious Love is one of my favourite songs in YEARS. Basically just him and his guitar. Fantastic!

As a shout out to Hot Lunch and High Fidelity (one of my favourite books and movies) I am going to do a Neil Diamond list. Its my "top five get sasskitty out of her crappy mood using the magic of Neil's songs" list.

5. Delirious Love


4. Brother Love's Travelling Salvation Show


3. Sweet Caroline (seriously...who doesn't love this song? BAH BAH BAH)


2. Forever in Blue Jeans


1. Holly Holy


Rock on Neil! Keep them sparkly shirts coming!!!

Here comes the BOOM!

I went to see Shoot em Up last night with my football coach and Mini girl.

Holy doodle.

I give you a smattering of the play by play that occurred in my head during the movie...

"WHOA!

Bloody Hell

Did he just...WITH A CARROT...OW!

HOLY CRAP Clive Owen is HOT!!!!

WHOA!

What the...

AGAIN with the carrot? Who KNEW carrots were that deadly!

WHOA!"

(note on above picture. Yes...that is a carrot in Clive Owen's hand. It is AMAZING what that man can do with a carrot. And I SO DO NOT mean it in that way!!!)

This movie is SO John Woo meets Quentin Tarantino meets Looney Tunes.

To quote my coach "This movie was excessive. But with extra x's. It was XXessive!"

It was definitely XXessive.

This movie took the action genre to a whole new level. They went too far..and kept on going. And because they kept on going, it made it fun and truly enjoyable. The body count was INSANE, the premise was just downright ludicrous, guns were blazing EVERYWHERE, the bad guy was BAD (Paul Giamatti is BRILLIANTLY evil...EEEVIL), the sex was HOT and the movie didn't stop.

And seriously. Is anyone cooler than Clive Owen? No...no there isn't. And SERIOUSLY! He is so FREAKING HOT! But I digress....rrrowr....

DO NOT go to this movie looking for a plot. There is no real plot. The plot makes no sense. I swear Michael Davis was on acid when he came up with this movie....i can imagine the pitch session to the producers...

"Okay, so there is this hero. Mr. Smith. The movie opens up with him delivering a baby during a gun fight. Then it follows Smith-who is TOTALLY the angriest man alive- through the city protecting the baby from some really bad guys, but he shoots them all. Lots. And he kills a couple of guys with a carrot. In fact, he eats lots of carrots- he's kind of like Bugs Bunny-in fact, we are going to have some veiled Looney Tunes references. Can we cast an actor that looks like Elmer Fudd? No? Okay...anyhow...so there is this lactating hooker with a heart of gold that is going to be the love interest/wet nurse for the baby. Her name is DQ. Get it? GET IT? I know...brilliant huh? And then Mr Smith shoots lots of people. LOTS OF PEOPLE! In one scene, he is going to be shooting people while skydiving. There will be lots of shooting and people dying by shooting. In LUDICROUS ways. BANG BANG! Its going to be AWESOME! AWESOME!"

But let me tell you...I had a BLAST. Pun totally intended.

MANY people will hate this movie. It is completely violent to the extreme, Clive Owen is NOT naked which sucks, and it is almost completely without plot. But if you want to go and shut off your brain, listen to some good heavy metal music, laugh and see things go BANG...this is SO THE MOVIE FOR YOU!

Four guns up out of five.

BOOM!

A further sign of the impending apocolypse

There have been many signs as of late that our world is unhappy.

Seas are rising.

The weather is all hinky.

George Bush is still in power.

Rihanna has a career.

Dane Cook hasn't been taken back to his home planet.

And a myraid of others.

The most recent is this...
Fake fur lined Crocs.

WHAT THE HELL?

Crocs on their own are wrong right, but FUR LINED????

DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN!

The fashion gods are angry...what's next? The return of high heeled ankle boots?

Oh right...

Jobbishness

I am about to head into the third round of interviews for the BEST JOB IN THE WORLD EVER!

I am so excited I might explode.

Its one of those jobs you dream about. You know the one...the job that falls on your lap? The one you didn't apply for but were recommended for by a friend? The one that seems way too good to be true? Yah...its one of those jobs.

The first interview was 15 minutes long. I was interviewed by "The Dude". It was casual, and cool and we talked about morris dancing.

They think I rock.

I think they rock.

I might explode.

At this moment I am waiting to hear about when the next interview will be- I have made it EXTREMELY well through the first two stages, but now need to meet..."THE CLIENT". Its KILLING ME! I want to stalk them mercilessly. I want to bake them banana bread and send them flowers telling them i love them.

But I must remain cool...calm...collected. For I am a professional. I am a career woman. I can take the pressure.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Operation motivation

Alright, so i have done all the big things I set out to do this summer.

Okay, the one big thing.

I got married.

It was a success-no one died (believe me...it was close...really close), the food ROCKED (many props to the magical chef and the WORLD'S BEST POTATOES at the Diamond Alumni Centre), and everyone looked FIERCE, if not slightly drunk (yes Hot Lunch, this means you).

I may post on the whole experience later-there is a lot more to being a bride than I thought. BEAUTY HURTS!

But now that I don't have that, I am in a pool of procrastination. I SHOULD BE frantically looking for a new job, trying to write more, starting to look for an agent, looking at producing my own show, working out more, cleaning my house, and looking for a new apartment.

Instead I am surfing the net, filing and checking out facebook.

Sigh...

MUST BECOME MORE MOTIVATED.

Or win the lottery...that would SO ROCK!!!!

Sigh...we shall see...

Why did you do this to me?

This past Saturday, I had a stagette thrown at me. No, it wasn't thrown for me, it was thrown at.

I had an AMAZING time! It was a magnificent all day affair that went a little like this...

at 13 hundred hours, Cultural Cruise showed up at my door step to give me my mission. A DVD was played showing that my FABULOUS fiancee is, in fact, an alien and I had to complete FOUR tasks in order to allow him to stay on the planet and NOT be incinerated (yes, sounds confusing. It was a bit, but thankfully, I had instructions). I was then given a VERY attractive headband with antenna on it that I had to wear on the skytrain downtown. Where we met another reveller and walked down Robson. With me wearing my antenna. Where we met someone else, then headed up to Davie St (me still wearing my antenna I would like to point out) to pick up two more ladies and meet at the Fountainhead. Where I started drinking. THIS may have been my first error. The Fountainhead makes a mean cocksucking cowboy shot if anyone is interested by the way. I also discovered that the way to free drinks is to say "But I'm on my stagette!!!"

We then walked across the street to...wait for it...POLE DANCING CLASSES! HOW FUN IS THAT?

Alarmingly good exercise, and the instructor was HOT. She did things on that pole that I have only heard rumours of. My arms still hurt, and I have major bruises on my thighs from attempting "the fireman's spin". SUPER fun though and a few of us will be returning to take classes as it was great exercise! I also learnt a lap dance that I will NEVER be performing for my fiancee (sorry baby) because its just far too silly. I also had some drinks.

After the dancing, we retired to one of the girl's homes for more drinking (oy), snacks and time for me to do a quiz on my spouse to be. Who knew he liked cantaloupe? I always thought he was more of a watermelon man! I passed, thank god, so SAVED HIS LIFE!! YAY ME!!!!

We headed off to one of my favourite restaurants, Hapa Izakaya for some Ebi Mayo, Om Rice and...well...Sake (oy). Dinner was marvy, and then OFF WE WENT to Doolins Irish Pub, or as I now know it, the place with that made me barf. Alot.

Doolins wasn't too packed, but we made our own fun. There were a few stagettes there (but mine had WAY hotter women! WOO HOO! My friends are FIERCE!) and one stag and people kept plying me with drinks. I just don't know where they came from. And I think I met a fighter pilot. And I think he grabbed my ass. He offered to show me his plane, but I told him I was taken...and then he bought me a drink.

The evening ended for me when my maid of honour and my fiance's groomswoman found me coming out of the men's washroom talking (or trying to talk because he WOULDN'T ANSWER THE PHONE) to my fiancee. They decided it was time for me to leave. But NOT UNTIL I drank:
One Prairie Fire shot (ewwwwwwww)
One blow job (yah...lets just imagine how well the whipping cream mixed with the tequila and hot sauce)
Three mystery shots

They tossed me in a cab and OFF WE WENT to my ride home. Apparently I then fell out of the cab. I don't remember this. I do remember getting in the car though and not feeling really good and saying the now "patented sasskitty line" that I said about 87 times on the way home...

"Why did you DO this to me?"

And then proceeding to throw up. And I didn't get the door open as much as I thought I did. And I think I threw up on a drag queen because I threw up all over Davie St. And then made the person driving me home stop at the bottom of the viaduct so I could throw up again.

"Why did you DO this to me?"

Then we dropped off my maid of honour, and I hung out of the car at her house and threw up on her lawn. Then we drove another friend home, but I don't think I threw up on her. Then we drove me home.

"Why did you DO this to me?"

I fell out of the car and informed my lovely driver that I would sleep there thank you. But she made me go upstairs. Where I informed her I wanted to sleep in my front hallway. Or my dining room. But not the couch or the bed. I think it took her 25 minutes to get me on the couch. THANK YOU!! THANK YOU THANK YOU!

I woke up at 5, consumed 4 tylenol, drank 8 litres of water and fell into bed. Woke up at 8 because I had a HAIR APPOINTMENT ON SUNDAY (note to all future brides. NEVER book a hair appointment the day after your stagette! NEVER!). I lay in the bath for 2 hours trying to get rid of the smell of bar, barf and tequila.

Dinner that night (because breakfast and lunch were WAY OUT OF THE QUESTION) was the greasiest chinese food I could find. All hail Mr Ho's chicken chow mein.

All in all, I had an AMAZING time (except for all the barfing). To anyone that was thrown up on by a strange blonde woman in a blue mini on Saturday who was yelling "Why did you do this to me?"...I apologize. Please don't hesitate to send me your cleaning bill...

On a plus side, I think I lost that pesky 10 lbs I have been trying to get rid of...

BRIDE BRIDE BRIDE BRIDE

I am getting married in twelve days.

Twelve days.

I had been fairly relaxed until now.

Today, for whatever reason, that all changed.

I AM GETTING MARRIED IN TWELVE DAYS!

My mother is wearing black patent bedazzled Birkenstocks.

My aunt is trying to throw strange women through her legs in an attempt at a jive.

I don't know if my dress will be done in time.

I don't have anyone doing my make up yet.

Videographer, I must find a videographer.

I still want to lose 10 more pounds.

Seating charts! I HATE SEATING CHARTS!

I need to write my vows. What rhymes with "Cuisinart"?

My groom is calmer than I am. ITS NOT FAIR!

I have developed a noticeable twitch. This has been exacerbated by the amount of people saying "WOW! You look really calm for someone getting married in TWELVE DAYS! DID YOU KNOW YOU WERE GETTING MARRIED IN TWELVE DAYS???"

Speaking of wedding dress, I think I hate the one I chose. I want the other one now.

I may have developed a slight drinking problem. Just a slight one.

twitch twitch twitch

Such a BAAAAAD BLOGGER

Oh I have been such a bad blogger.

bad bad bad bad

I have no excuse! Its not that I have had nothing to say (I always have something to say. Its constant. I don't shut up. I'm surprised I don't talk in my sleep), I just haven't had the impetus to do it.

Well NO MORE! I am back...and with a vengeance! I will return to my bloggy ways.

Just as soon as I have a coffee...must...have....coffee....

Emotion of the day-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I have been reticent to complain about my job on this blog, but at this moment, I can think of nothing else than how frustrated I am every day when I come to work.

I love my job. I am good at it. I know I am doing great things for a group of people who really need it. I have successfully secured hundreds of thousands of dollars of funding this year and increased our profile tenfold.

But my board president fills me with a pure unadulterated rage like I have never felt before.

I hate her.

Hate.

Hate like flaming hot knives through the base of my scull...hate.

She is forcing me out of my job due to her evilness. She is a giant useless tit.

Seriously...

I give you an eerily accurate representation of the boss from hell...

I work for Mimi.

She smells like Llama poop because she owns a ranch, she NEVER says please or thank you and she just informed my co-worker that I needed to start booking travel because...really...what else was I paid to do.

She treats me like I am her indentured servant and a complete moron. She is totally condescending and from what I can tell...stupid.

gnnnnnr.

I am OFFICIALLY on a job hunt.

Then...I am on a Mimi hunt....mwa ha ha ha ha.

Early wake up call...

This morning I went to work early.

New Westminster is a different town at 7:45 am...

Instead of the guy commenting on my ass "oh YA baby...uh uh uh uh...you are FINE", I walked by the desperate men hovering around Labour Force waiting for the 8 hours of minimum wage work they may get if they are lucky.

Just up the street, instead of the happy plant watering lady in her crazy hats, I see the "babies" hanging around the teen centre, just waking up after a night of sanctuary in the one place they feel safe.

Instead of the smokers crowding my office stoop, I see a man sleeping in the doorway, just down the street from the Porches, Audis and Land Rovers of the Rotary Club members meeting just above his head.

I wonder where all these people go in one short hour when I and the rest of the office workers come in. Do they become the angry guy and his girlfriend fighting in front of the payday loans place over who's turn it is to buy drugs? Do they become the drunk guy who likes my ass? Or do they just become invisible until the next morning when they look for their jobs, safety or stoop to sleep on.

Dancing on the Edge of Insanity

Last night I went to see Nick and Juanita by Tara Cheyenne at the Dancing on the Edge Festival. AMAZING! I may be slightly biased as I know Tara and think she rocks, but her performance was one of the best I have seen in years. She combines Dance and Theatre effortlessly and seamlessly so that a "theatre snob" like me would go and say "wow, what a great theatre piece" and a "dance snob" would go and say "wow, what a great dance piece". Sadly, this is her last performance here, but she will be performing it again soon I am sure, and a tour is planned. If EVER you see a poster for one of her performances (last year's bANGER was phenomenal) GO SEE IT!!!

Prior to the show, I saw an actress I had been in a show with about 5 years previously. I shall call her PumpKin.

Below follows our interaction...

I am on the phone. PumpKin waves and smiles. I get off the phone and walks up to PumpKin to be friendly.

SK: "HI PumpKin! Great to see you" (I do NOT move in for a hug as I hate the whole 'all actors must hug all the time thing').

PK: "OH MY GOD! ITS YOU!" and leaps on me for a hug. Note...she does not use my name as it is obvious she does not remember my name. I see her at least twice a year.

PK: "SO...what are you doing? What have you been up to? Are you not LOVING this festival? Have you been to lots?"

SK: "Um...well...this is my first show. I know Tara. How about you?"

PK: "Well, I am embarrassed to admit that this is my first show too, but I am sure it will be FANTASTIC! So...what are you doing?

SK: "Well...um...some acting. I am the Executive Director of a small non profit that provides support to children with disabilities and I..."

PK: "OHMYGOD! That is so great? Do you love it? I know you must love it! Do you love it?"

SK: "Uh...sure...its...um...not really what i set out to do, but it works for now. How about you?"

PK: "Oh...well...I am STILL acting-feast or famine you know...I am doing a little thing here and then am off to rehearsals in Calgary. And then...well...who knows. Right? Am I right? Sometimes I wish I had made a choice like you, but I just can't, you know?"

SK: "Ur...um" At which point I punch her in the throat.

Okay, I didn't. But I REALLY wanted to. REALLY REALLY REALLY wanted to.

Actors are dorks. They all need to be hoisted on their own petard. Seriously. Where does she get off. SHE is still acting....grrrrr...I really should have gone for the throat punch. Sigh...my chosen profession is filled with self centred morons. THIS may be why I took the break...i knew there was a good reason.

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Happy Birthday to me

I turned 35 Friday.

35.

I am halfway to 70.

I understand that 40 is the new 30 (whatever the hell THAT means), but i can't help but feeling a bit nostalgic for my younger years.

The years when I was young and carefree and could drink and dance until two in the morning without needing to recoup for 2 days.

The years when the men that hit on me in bars weren't hiding their wedding rings behind their male patterned baldness.

The years when I could play 3 hours of a sport and not want to die the next day.

The years when clerks didn't call me "ma'am".

I have decided however that THIS will be my year. I am getting married to the man i love, soon i hope to be starting a new and fabulous career and I will get back on that acting horse.

If only i could do it without aching.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!

Clothing optional

Yesterday when I was heading to my car, I noticed that someone had placed their socks lovingly in front of my passenger door.

I always get concerned about abandoned clothing, particularly abandoned shoes. It offends my sensibilities. Who would DO that to poor innocent clothing-especially shoes? I know many shoes that I see flung cruelly over electrical wires are from evil bullies who rip them from the feet of poor little geeks. Bullies like Tricia Johnson who threatened to beat me up in grade 8. Tricia was a foot shorter than me. Needless to say, it didn't go well for her. But I digress.

I just don't get the abandoned clothing thing. I am suspicious that these socks were a token of affection from the toothless man who was lurking near my car telling me I was looking "FIIIINE". Or at least I think thats what he said. He had no teeth. And I think he had just drunk his weight in JD judging by the empty bottles in the area. His buddy also said something to me, but I didn't catch it as he was too busy talking on his cell phone.

Yah, I was confused by that one too.

But if they WEREN'T a token of affection, how did they get there. Do people just randomly stroll down the street then say to themselves, "You know, I would be much happier if I wasn't wearing socks (or pants, or a shirt). I think I will take them off right now and put them in front of this lovely little yellow Protege 5 with fuzzy dice in the window. Ah yes, I feel so much better."

I can't think of a situation in which I have EVER felt the need to abandon my clothing. I will admit, I took my nylons off at work the other day and threw them out because they had a run in them, but THAT is a different story. Clothing abandonment is just downright irresponsible. And a bit weird.

So socks remain a mystery.

A mystery never to be solved I am assuming, until the next piece of errant clothing makes its way to my vehicle.

Ah New Westminster...how I love you...

Riddled with self doubt...

This past weekend I was called upon to reprise my role of "Connie Mocogni the pregnant kiss monster maid of honour" in Tony and Tina's Wedding. Its always interesting for me to go in and do the show as one of the "classic" players. I was first in Tony and Tina's over 10 years ago and they have gone through over 450 actors since the show started-some of them good, a lot of them...well...not so good. Bad even.

The show has changed a fair amount since I first joined. When I started, the cast was comprised of improv actors, classically trained thespians and professional hams. There wasn't anything subtle about the show. It was loud, crazy and ridiculous. I would finish the show exhausted but energized as I knew the audience had been entertained to their max.

Present day TnT has a lot of film actors. They are quiet, reserved and focused on being "natural". They are also children. Babies. Barely out of puberty. I walk into the show as a celebrity-a legend-the "original Connie". FAB for the ego, let me tell you. However, I am old. Oh so old.

I had a lot of fun doing the show. The actor who played my boyfriend in the show was 20. TWENTY! I was a cougar.

And old. have I mentioned old?

In no other industry is 34.9 (a matter of DAYS away from 35) considered SO OLD.

It made me think. When is too old to continue pursuing this wacky acting thing? I have been feeling old for a while. Do I give up now that I am no longer an ingenue? Am I deluding myself as I am "past my prime"? Or do I say FUCK IT and just go for it?

Its different for men...sad but true. I am sneaking into "young mom" age-also known as the age of death. I was never really the cute young thing-too tall, to curvy, too snarky. Perpetually have I been the best friend, the nurse and the maid. Or all three.

Much self reflecting happening. I will either be kicked in the ass and inspired by this, or will decide to become an accountant.

we shall see...

Cheering for the underdog...

For the last 2 weeks, our TV has been inundated by Bad Reality TV that makes me yell...American Inventor, America's Got Talent, Canada's Next Top Model (okay, we TOTALLY watch that one. YAY MISS J!).

America's Got Talent is one of the worst. FIRST OFF, Jerry Springer is the host. shudder. The judges are putzes (seriously...SHARON OSBOURNE? And I love the Hoff, but who the heck is he to judge talent). And you can tell the producers just LOVE to put the worst on TV. And you gotta know a little kid is going to win singing "God Bless America" or whatever the heck that song is from Dream Girls that Jennifer Hudson sings. gag.

Of course, we get all of our "original" reality TV shows from the UK first. And usually, the shows get watered down before they hit North America, so you gotta know the UK version is even MORE mind rotting!

Britain's Got Talent is presently running. My expectation of Britain's Got Talent is a bunch of people singing pub songs and telling off colour jokes.

Apparently, I was wrong.

I give you Paul Potts. Mobile phone salesman and amateur opera singer. He even makes Simon Cowell keep his mouth shut. Who knew that was possible.

His story just made my heart melt. I hope he wins. At least, I hope he beats the guy with the monkey.

yes...i am a giant suck...

Smell travels East to West

For the next three days I am doing a wee acting gig thanks to Cultural Cruise (thanks babycakes). This gig causes me to take the skytrain a different route than I am used to. Instead of traveling from the picturesque City of Burnaby to the now violence ridden armpit of New Westminster, I am traveling from the perfumed Township of Burnaby to the apparently WET CROTCH SOCK SMELL ridden downtown Vancouver. Evidently people in the Lower Mainland begin to smell as they head towards the big city.

Instead of sitting reasonably solo at the back of the train for a quick 3 minute jaunt, I am spending 30 minutes with my closest (and I do mean close. In some countries, I would be married 8 times over for the amount of familiarity fellow commuters now have with my nether regions thanks to roaming hands and...well...umbrellas. But really...lets not go there) friends and ALL of them. I repeat ALL of them smell like REALLY BAD B.O.

Every time I get on the train, I do the Secret check. No, not THE SECRET check (and seriously, if you KNOW "the Secret", you also know...well, its not really a secret. Our mothers have been telling us this for years! Its so silly, I can't even say it.) You've all seen it on the Secret commercials. Women everywhere "nonchalantly" checking their pits for the slightest soupcon of odour. I am embarrassed to say I have become one of those women.

I am fastidious when it comes to body odour (over sharing, I know, but live with it). I shower BEFORE I go work out, play football, go run, just in case I may incur extra smell. I KNOW its not me that smells, but I check every time.

I don't get this. WHY does it smell so much? I know what you are saying "Sasskitty you BOOB, its because there are so many people on the train".

No...this is not so, for on my RETURN trip with JUST AS MANY of my close groping neighbours, there is no smell.

No B.O. No crotch waft. No feet sweat. Just the sweet smell of...well...nothing.

Can you explain this phenomenon to me oh faithful reader? Why is this? You would think people would smell worse as they reach the end of the day, not better.

I have no solution. I have no pithy words of wisdom. I am merely putting the question out to the universe in the hopes that the stinkys will...well...WASH!

In the meantime, I think I am going to invest in some nose plugs. And a jock.

Snore-ny Awards

Last night I was all aflutter as the 61st annual Tony Awards were on TV.

I love the Tony's. Hot Lunch and I bond over the best performances, what play we wish we could see, and how HOT Hugh Jackman is (rrowr)

But this time? Oh lord. I was SO BORED!

I knew I was in for a bad time when I discovered there was no host and that the first introduction was from Angela Lansbury.

Oh dear.

The theme was "there is a little Broadway in all of us". I could make some kind of lewd comment about the sexual promiscuity of actors here, but I won't. Although it would have made the show more exciting.

They were trying to prove that the American Theatre was still viable. So they used famous film actors to do so. HUH? The famous dudes would come on stage and say "I remember the first time I was on Broadway...ya da ya da ya da". Of course for most of them, the only REASON they were on Broadway is because they were famous film and TV actors first. So what does THAT have to do with the viability of American Theatre? And who said it wasn't viable? They sold over 12 million tickets on Broadway last year. TWELVE MILLION! I think its still viable. They need to stop whining. VANCOUVER theatre...not so viable. THAT'S who needs help...

Two of the top shows on Broadway right now are Mary Poppins the Musical and Legally Blonde the Musical.

Dear lord. Perhaps Broadway wasn't all I thought it was...LEGALLY BLONDE THE MUSICAL???

I usually watch the Tony's and fantasize that I am the one on stage accepting the Tony...

I would like to thank my junior high school acting teacher Roger Carr for supporting me all of those years and making me believe I could do this. I would like to thank my mom and dad for being super awesome and my fiance for being SUPER HOT and agreeing to marry a deranged actress. And finally, for everyone who ever said I couldn't do it...THPPPPT!

This year I watched and fantasized that maybe the Jersey Boys would perform naked.

No such luck.

I star watched a bit...some good dresses...and some bad ones.

Marcia Gay Harden needed to be slapped. Or her stylist did...

Claire Danes needs to eat.

Idina Menzel and Taye Diggs are the hottest couple. Ever. DAMN they will have beautiful children.
I went to bed early. I didn't even stay up for the Spring Awakenings number...I figured it would be on You Tube...and lo an behold...here it is. Hard to see...but sounds good. Damn...only thing I should have stayed up for...



Fingers crossed for next year...who knows, maybe I'll be there... (gotta dream big)

Two Knocked Ups!

I had a few trepidations about this movie. Don't get me wrong. It had all the key elements that I love in a comedy:

1. Canadians (Canadians are funnier. Period. And this movie is filled with them and stars one of the funnier ones- Seth Rogen)
2. Silly dance sequences.
   
3. Cameo by Ryan Seacrest (who I am convinced is having an affair with Simon Cowell. but I digress). He's quite surprising in this movie...really...
   
4. Saucy blondes. In particular, saucy blondes who got a role I auditioned for in one of the worst horror movies ever made. Of course, this may mean she has my career which makes me just a WEE BIT bitter...but I am going to roll with it...
   
5. Judd Apatow. The man is a genius.
   
6. Paul Rudd. Rrowr. Seriously. Rrrowr.
   

So you may ask...why was I concerned?

Babies.

Lots of babies.

I have developed a fear of babies.

They are everywhere.

My friends are pregnant or just recently parents. My fiance and I are trying to cultivate friendships with non pregnant people just so we don't feel left out. AND so we won't be asked to babysit. And in case pregnancy might be contagious. The baby pressures are rapidly mounting, especially as I am about to turn...gulp...THIRTY FIVE in just TWENTY EIGHT SHORT DAYS. Apparently, my eggs are aging.

Fuck.

We also went with one of the aforementioned pregnant people. I was worried the movie might make her pop. And I was NOT looking forward to that.

Ew.

So back to the movie.

I thoroughly enjoyed it! Two thumbs up! Funny yet touching all at the same time. A weird cross between a chick flick and a college gross out movie. I could have done without the birthing scene (shudder), but other than that, a genuinely funny, sweet and downright WACKY story (the scene with Rogen and Rudd on mushrooms in the hotel room discussing chairs almost killed me. I think I might have peed a little). The acting was great and if anyone is a Freaks and Geeks fan they MUST go to this movie as its a reunion of sorts with many of the Freaks cast members appearing.

Sure, there are some obvious plot devices at work-the end is no surprise, and of COURSE the doofus ends up with a hot blonde (no dear fiance I am NOT pointing at you with that comment...but now that I think about it...), but the writing is spectacular.

Instead of being a movie about how this-happened-and-then-this-happened, you walk out talking about all the great things the characters said to each other. It's the kind of movie you go back to twice because you want to hear them say it again. ("Five is WAY TOO MANY chairs for this room"...ha ha...okay, you had to be there...but trust me. Its funny). Any movie that identifies the white guy dance "the dice move" is a-list in my books.

Go see this movie. If you think its beneath you because its a "blockbuster"...well...relax and eat some popcorn. Not everything can be Fellini. (And thank god really.) Sometimes, movies are made for pure entertainment, and this one is purely entertaining.

Make sure you go to the bathroom before you go in though. The hotel scene may do you in...