Tuesday, January 31, 2006

"I carried a watermelon"

Tuesday, January 31, 2006
There is a scene in Dirty Dancing (epic example of cinematic greatness), where Baby meets Johnny for the first time. She's headed on down to the employee lounge, where the summer resort staff is gettin' their bump and grind on. Baby helps Johnny's cousin carry some party supplies in, and when he introduces her to the oh-so-handsome, sweaty Patrick Swayze/Johnny, Baby's only response is "I carried a watermelon".

I totally had that moment on Friday night.

Some background may be required- since August, I have been madly infatuated with the 100% Perfect Boy for Me, a dreamboat that I'll simply refer to as D. If he asked, I'd drop out of school, have 6 of his kids, and drive a minivan for the rest of my life. I'd give all my money to the church, renounce the holy following of Manolo Blahnik, and never again lust after another man. Did I mention that D. and I had NEVER MET? Not officially, anyway. I saw him at a theatre thing in August, and then in September through 3 layers of window and across a parking lot, and ONE DAY, he came into the Starbucks in Kensington that I frequent. However, actually saying anything to him- not happening.

Until Friday, when I was determined to get an introduction. My dear friend Amanda orchestrated this elaborate set-up scheme for a different friend of hers, and D. was also going to be at the show we saw. Finally, my chance to impress! To dazzle him with my charm and wit! To make him believe that I was indeed the 100% Perfect Girl for Him! Instead- what do I say? When he comments that he's looking for a friend- I say,

"You could make a sign!" Cheese.

Should've just carried a watermelon.

Dear Diary- Mood, apathetic.

I had to post a link to this video, as it's just too precious. My friend Robert sent it to me.

This video is hilarious because this is Robert (okay, on Halloween). Watch the video. I swear, it made my day. You know what else makes my day? The way his shoelaces matched his belt. He's so sensitive.

Edited on May 2: I changed the link for the video...it should work again, at least for now!

Monday, January 30, 2006

Adventures in Plumbing

Monday, January 30, 2006
Today, my only class was cancelled. After I hauled myself out of bed and to two group meetings, I decided I'd had enough for the day and headed home. It was such a nice day- some Diner Deluxe was clearly in order. Lauren and I moseyed on down to Edmonton Trail, and while the service was shady, the diet coke tasted like tonic water and acid, and one of the other customers looked like she'd had a face lift that morning, the food was awesome. Best bacon-cheese burger in town, I'd argue- and definitely the best yam wedges!

On my way home, the sun shining in the grimy car windows put me in the mood for some John Cougar Melencamp. JackFM obviously agreed, and supplied not only a little "Jack and Diane", but followed it up with some Springstein and then some Colin James. It was a good day, friends. I enjoyed a nap while the sketchy tree cutter-downer guys sawed and hacked away outside my apartment. The perfect Monday, you might say!

Things only got better- when I woke up from my napathon, I found the toilet backed up. We don't have a plunger. Neither do any of the other people living in our wing, apparently! I called Rez Services after begging Sarah to help me find someone, ANYONE with a plunger and failing... they told me Maintenance would be up to check on things asap. Fast forward 5 minutes or so, and a knock at the door is heard. Who is it?

Not Maintenance Mike, but Trevor Rempel, our RLC. Now, Trevor is a pretty cool cat- he's a friend of a friend, and after experiencing some uber awkward but hilarious conversation at parties ("sooo...how do you feel about Winnipeg? The Rolling Stones? How old were you the first time you drove to Buffalo?") I have to say that Trevor is indeed an okay dude. An okay dude, but NOT a plumber!

All I needed was a plunger, I explained. He shows up 15 minutes later with a purple monstrosity looking NOTHING like any plunger I've ever seen in my whole life. This thing was a plastic accordion. If Barney and Friends needed to unclog a toilet, this is what they'd use! It didn't work. We couldn't figure it out.

So Sarah found another, traditional, oldskool plunger. We think we're in business. We're so not. How many former 4K'ers does it take to unplug a toilet? 3, and one to call her mom in Saskatchewan because we're clueless.

Thanks to Mrs. Hutton, we're totally in business. To do our business. Or whatever.

In other news, I'm pleased to inform you that Dorothy Hamil has been rocking the same haircut since the mid '70s. Pageboy on, Dorothy.


Thanks, by the way, to everyone that did scream "RED FLAG" at me- it matters more than you can all understand to have friends like you- because I'm just stupid enough to generally ignore any and all red flags or red herrings that I come across.

A little Perspective, please.

I've had a bit of an interesting weekend. To respect the privacy of those involved, I refuse to go into intimate detail, but I will say that in the past 48 hours, I've feared for my safety, for the safety and sanity of others, experienced total and utter confusion, and begun to realize that although I think I'm in charge and in control, I'm actually being walked all over. Why is it that those people who are willing to sacrifice so much for the ones they love (this isn't me I'm talking about, btw) are the ones that continually get abused, taken advantage of, and generally fucked over? How is that justice? How is that at all karmic? And then, why do some people feel it necessary to mislead others with convoluted tales of engagement, and abuse, and mental illness, and then proclaim for all to hear, "But it's not my fault!!" (and the killer "I just want to cuddle"...but that's a different story and a different person entirely!)

Anyway. Today was rough- my emotions are a little fucked, and for awhile I thought I was on top of my game, only to realize over a slightly more potent than necessary drink tonight that I'm really losing. Sarah told me, "Tomorrow will be better..." and she's right. But I really needed to hash it out with someone who wouldn't scream "RED FLAG" at me- I can see them myself, and I can also hear the sirens, and the alarms, and I'm perfectly capable of reading the warning labels that some people should wear- such as "Caution: Contents Unstable" or "WIll Explode on Impact" (thanks, Kent)
So who do I call? Not the ghostbusters, but my dad. My dad- I don't think he realizes how important he is in my life, and how fortunate I am, and how much better I feel, after talking to him, about my life, and the government, and the general state of affairs in the world. He was the man that made it all better by driving me to the hospital when I broke my arm(s) (okay, after the game was over...), or by explaining to me what the death of a friend's parent meant when I was 9. Sometimes, even at 21, I need my dad to make it all better- and if he does it by talking about Led Zeppelin, I'm okay with that.

Tomorrow it will be back to the regularily scheduled lame-o commentary on things I find annoying, but for tonight- you're stuck with this.

Friday, January 27, 2006

Hot Summer Fashions!!

Friday, January 27, 2006
I forgot to mention that I saw THE hottest outfit today. Seriously. This chick was teh hawt.

It was like, yoga pants crossed with gauchos mated with Hammerpants, cropped at the knee. Never before have I seen pants ride an ass like that and at the exact same time, make someone look like they'd taped a puffy, bubble-like black garbage bag tight around their knee. I wish I could get my pants to puff out like that, "I Dream of Genie"-style. Of course, then I'd have to wear them with grungy white bedazzled flip flops.

'Cause, even when it's January, don't EVER forget to bring your Sexy to class, people.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

if you can't be in the place you love, love the place you're in

Thursday, January 26, 2006
At the moment, I'd love to be just about anywhere but Calgary. Don't get me wrong, I love this city- it's one of the two places I've ever called home. However, late-January blues combined with too much Sex and the City and trips by the Travel Cuts (plus a conversation with my Travel-Agent Aunt) has really started an itch to get the heck out of Dodge.

If I could, I'd go...(In no particular order)

1. To Cuba, with my friend Jane.
2. To Brisbane, to see my friend Jane.
3. To Québec City, or Montréal.
4. Thailand, for kicks.
5. I'd love to go to Africa- Kenya, or Cameroon. Blame that one on Uncle Ray...
6. Greece. Mm, Greece...
7. New York, New York!
8. I could go on forever.

I guess I'm jealous because Dad's off to Paris in a few weeks (okay, I hated Paris...), and then Mom and Dad are off to Rome soon. Ted and Colleen are headed to Honduras, Lauren's taking off to Mexico (yay, sublet her apartment time!) and even Jane's going to Melbourne. I'm going, once again, to Saskatchewan.

Okay, that's nearly enough bitching. In today's news, Kathleen and I finally agreed on the ultimate words to live by:

Men. Can't live with them, can orgasm without them, but it's just not the same.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

25 Most Played

Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Can I just add that for some reason, "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake is actually on the 25 Most Played playlist on my computer?!! How could this happen? I'm so confused...my secret shame, displayed for all who see my iTunes!


So on my way to the periodontist (shaking fist angrily) today, for my 3-week skin-graft checkup, I followed a Hummer down 9th Avenue. The idiot driving swerved around, honked at everyone, and generally drove like a pro-athlete. The license plate this gent chose? "TTLXTC". I can guarantee that no one has experienced even close to partial ecstacy anywhere near the backseat, frontseat, or hood of that gas-guzzler. Not the way that jackass drives!

Today I was in a bit of a funk. I stopped by the Pumphouse to see my dear friend Amanda, who lost her pet this past weekend. I feel like a heel because I don't know if it was Loki or Arwen they had to put down, so from now on, every time I go to their place, it will be "oh, hello, Kitty!!"- but I digress. Anyway, I dropped some flowers off for Amanda, because she had a shitty weekend. While I was there, I got to pick out my (free!) seat for "Evita" on Friday. The D.G. will be there, and I will have a clear line of sight. Umm..that could be dangerous. So after scoring free tickets for a show I wanted to see anyway, I headed home, to watch the poll results of the election. I voted. I voted Liberal. So sue me, you Conservative bastards, and in 4 months, you just remember that you GET WHAT YOU VOTE FOR.

Okay, so back to being in a funk- I admit to being a bit homesick. Not sick for home, just sick for a place with central vac, reliable heat, and food in the fridge. I'm sure that after Ski (er, Reading) Week, I'll be wondering "WTF?" about my little spell of "iwannagohometomama"...but for now, I made the ultimate comfort food...

Coleslaw. With oil and vinegar dressing. Someone, please, intervene. My version of comfort food is a salad. A nearly fat-free, calorie free salad.

To do tomorrow: Seek Psychiatric Counsel.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Recipe for Disaster

Sunday, January 22, 2006
Sometimes, what seems like a really stupid idea- really is a stupid idea. Take, for instance, combining a smirnoff ice with 2 shots of gin. Oh yes, the CNIB (Canadian Institue for the Blind) may indeed be the scariest drink I've ever encountered. Why would anyone choose to do that to themselves?!

The only thing we could think of last night to make them taste less like licking pine flavoured, Elvis endorsed, cheap cologne was to add a soy-based beverage. Again, what is a stupid idea in theory truly is stupid in practice.

Last night we celebrated Molly and Lauren's birthdays. Poor Molls was turning 20, and Lauren was entering the 21st of her years. I will not be surprised if neither of them remembers exactly what happend and where we ended up (the Bonasera Sports Bar on Edmonton Trail...home of the surliest, homliest bar wench I've met this side of the Atlantic). The drinks were watered down, the fries were never actually potatoes, and the clientel fought over the best VLT seat.

I did notice that the behaviour of a group of young adults when thrown together in a dive bar is just like watching something on the Discovery Channel. Mating rituals, Alpha Males, rejection of the weakest in the pack, "the bitter diva table..." (okay, maybe that last one is less Discovery, more Showcase). When it comes down to it, we're just naked animals.

And let it be known that cell phones are daaangerous. Dangerous. Never in my life have I had to try so hard not to call everyone in my phonebook.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Ow! My entire body hurts!

Friday, January 20, 2006
I just crawled out of bed (okay, a few hours ago) and dragged myself to a Deep Water Running class. I suppose my desire to actually do something on my days off isn't really that noble- but seeing as how "going to the mall" is even less respectable, deep water running it is.

I met Lauren at the pool, where we were shocked by the cold water temperature, but not for long. After an hour of running drills performed while tetherd to a lane divider in the deep end, I am thoroughly exhausted.

In other news, I've decided not to attend the Business Day conference. Maybe I'm tired of people asking me where my parents/uncles/etceteras work, and I'm tired of turning on the obviously fake charm. Besides, I don't know if I could handle an entire day of dressing like a Business Bimbo...this does not bode well for my future career.

Dance Party!!

Sarah and I just got home from Tequila. It's 11:40, but in our defense, we were there for over 2 hours, and we were the very first people on the dance floor!! Some of the interesting things I observed:

1. It's been so long since I've been on the club scene. To give you an idea, back in the day, "dirrrty" was spelt with one R, and it was only starting to get hot in hurr.

2. It takes a strong man to pair a shiny red satin shirt with the blingingest belt buckle I've ever seen that spelled out "Big E". Sarah refused his request to dance- I can't imagine why!

3. My ears hurt. It must be a sign of old age. I wish they'd turn that music down...(old. I'm so old.)

4. Men are required to wear striped button down shirts. Women must all wear the exact same black tank top. Or lululemon pants- WTF! It's a club, not the gym. I don't see you doing any Warrior Poses holding that Vodka Slime, sweetheart.

5. An all-male dance off is so awesome to watch. Especially awesome when the opposing "team" was earlier taking pictures of each other and wearing ski headbands and shirts and ties. And "Big E" is kickin' their asses. I can only wonder what would happen if the vertical striped shirts had to face off against the horizontal striped shirts. MAYHEM!

At this point, I have to issue another apology to my brother. I came to the shocking realization that it's not HIM that's being a drunken yahoo- it's his entire peer group that acts that way. Carry on, sibbie. Carry on.

Anyway, we missed CSI, but we had a good time. At least I did. And there was a serious lack of management students there- always a good thing!!

On to the weekend!

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Sunday, January 15, 2006
Cell phones- a necessary evil? I just became the owner of one, after living without one for 4 years. I had one in grade 12, before the town I lived in actually had cell service. It was essentially useless, as everyone knew where to find everyone else at all times, and if they didn't, surely the person you were looking for would find you first.

But now I've got one. I don't have a snazzy ringtone- just a factory one that sound sort of like the title song from Sex and the City. I have maybe 13 numbers in the call list, and no one ever calls me on it. That was the case, at least, until today. I was enjoying the afternoon at Cafe Med, and while I was there, every single person I've ever known called. At least I had it turned OFF.

Last night, someone in the row in front of me answered her phone during a movie. WTF? Who do you NEED to talk to that badly? Who needs to talk to YOU that badly? Whatever happened to planning ahead? Being on time? Landlines? All went the way of the dinosaur, it seems.

Anyway, end rant, but let it be known that while I've joined the Nokia Revolution, I refuse to be one of those loud-talking, traffic-accident causing jerks.

At least for now.

Friday, January 13, 2006

Friday, January 13, 2006
Job Search

Today, I have decided to continue the inevitable hunt for gainful employment upon graduation. I've got 6 months to find the dream job I've always wanted, that will enable me to use the skills I've learned in the past 4 years.

Anyway, today's top find:

K-Y Promotional Rep. As we approach the busy Valentine season, they are looking for an eager and willing candidate. Benefits are questionable, but I'm sure it's an interesting and challenging position!

And obviously, the perks!! Free samples, and I'm sure it's one of those places that requires some sort of personal endorsment. However, I'm not sure if at my 10 year high school reunion, I'd like a nametag that says, "Megan Bailey, Valedictorian, Lube Salesman"

In other news, I did find what is reasonably close to a dream entry-level position, at the Bay. Yes, Mom, I paid threw the nose for 4 years to work at the Bay. As the Special Events Manager, I'd get to be both the social whore I'm so inclined to be, and work for a serious, well-respected, aged company. Now I just have to dust off the resume, and write a BS coverletter, and hope and pray they'll take a chance on a new grad.

Well, that's all for me. Tonight I'm going to see Mrs. Henderson Presents, and then moseying on down to BeerPizza.