Makeover

Instead of blogging I thought I'd give my blog a makeover, but since I'm here...

I'm way to bored to blog at work these days, and way too lazy to blog at home. That's me, lazy and bored.
Friday nights continue to be the most exciting part of the weekend. Erik and I saw Childstar on it's opening night and there were only 7 people in the theatre. To make matters worse, right in the middle of the movie the lights faded back on and the movie faded into the slide projector crap they show before the movie. After about 5 minutes the movie came back on, but the problem occurred again the instant the credits started to roll. Now I feel the guilt of not watching enough Canadian films anymore. The movie was great, despite the technical difficulties (which was rectified in the end with not one but two movies passed from the good folks at Cineplex Oden) and Don McKellar was very Don McKellar-y in a very good way. Later we got drunk, watched gay porn and went to Walmart....you know, the usual stuff.

I more or less spent the rest of the weekend listening to Suede and reading The Last Party.

my tv means to kill me.

I seem to have a real on-again, off-again relationship with tv, especially shows I REALLY (for moral reasons) shouldn’t be watching (or enjoying.) Like The Surreal Life. Prior to this weekend I had only seen a few minutes of the show, usually just watching long enough to figure out what it was, get annoyed and slightly disgusted, and then change the channel. (The concept as far as I can tell, is to put a bunch of useless, dried-up, irritating celebrities in house together and hope they don’t get along.) The ONLY reason I tuned in...



Jordan Knight. But he's NOT a loser! WHY is he on this show? I think watching it is a brave move on my part, considering how important NKOTB were to me as a teenager, and the fact that he could turn out a real a-hole and completely destroy my image of him. But I’ll take my chances. So far he’s just been extremely anti-social but I don’t blame him – the house is full of nuts. I won’t elaborate on the stupidity of the show or the other participants because it really is a piece of poo. Then there’s Coronation Street, which I got sucked into for a while last summer, (thanks to mom’s insistence that she saw two cute guys kissing on it) but stopped watching it because they began to focus on the boring old farts, and I just kept forgetting to watch it. I caught an episode the other night, and now I’m hooked again. And the worst, I watched American Idol last night mostly because it was on, and they were in New Orleans, and I think the losers who think they can sing are pretty darn funny. I watched Popstars the first season it was on, back when the whole concept was fresh, and I watched the (first? only?) World Idol with the winners from each country (mostly cause I knew Ryan Malcolm - the Canadian Idol winner - back when he was scrawny(er) and slicked his hair back). I heard that Mark Burnett pitched the idea for a competition to find a singer for an established rock band – now that would be cool! And finally, the second season of This Is Wonderland started last night. It’s quite funny in an anti-lawyer-ish sort of way. (And hey – the star of the show, Cara Pifko, was born on the exact same day as me!)

Pre-empted blog.

Clearly I watched a whole lotta of figure skating this weekend – the men’s & pairs portion of Skate Canada & the US Gala. I love watching figure skating, but I always seem to miss competitions because I don’t pay enough attention to when they’re on, and even now, I can’t figure out when the European Champs. and Four Continents are going to be aired on a network we actually get. So I usually end up watching the men’s and the gala because they’re usually last. (And never the ice dancing, which I hate, because it makes me all agitated.) At this point I have to say that Canada is probably f*cked for the Olympics next year. The US skaters, on the other hand, are looking much better...

Cause Johnny Weir is the man!



Although he’s getting more notice this year (after winning the nationals twice) I don’t think people know what to make of his slow, purposeful style of skating. The commentators feel the need to overly justify themselves when they compliment him. It’s like they know he’s good, but because he’s not turning quads all over the place, they don’t feel confident saying he really is the best. The Americans are still not using the new point system even though it will be in place at the worlds in March. Terribly stupid. (The Americans I mean, not the new point system, which is proving to be a very wonderful thing because it allows for minor mistakes and can’t be as easily manipulated at the judges will.)
This weekend I also went to a tiny book store in an outlet mall where I found a book that I’ve wanted for quite a while, but haven’t been able to find it because it’s out of print (except on ebay from the UK which can get quite pricey.) They actually had two copies of it, brand new hardcovers, for $8.00! Lucky me! I was so excited I almost bought both copies.

I cannae be arsed.

Everything is so boring right now I think I’d like to sleep for a month. I wish I were a bear or anything that hibernates for a few months. Someone in the office just said it’s amazing how her motivation just drops the instant our boss leaves. I said mine disappears the second I walk into the building. And it’s true! Mostly I waste time by reading stuff, so I know things like:

Fans of Fox's groundbreaking animated comedy "The Simpsons" have been awaiting a bombshell this season: The show will reportedly "out" one of its characters as gay.

Misery is expected to peak on Monday, as 24 January has been pinpointed as the worst day of the year.

A Brazilian man arguing with his 88-year-old mother threw her into a neighbors' yard where two pit bulls mauled her to death.
and blogs like:

Tederick (who just updated the OMFVF website)
ChiaMac (who stayed indoors and watched 9 hours of movies yesterday)
TexasGary (who is begging for donations to pay off her student loans - whom I’d gladly give money to if my own debt didn’t exceed hers!)
MattVideo (who seems more blog-bored then I am)
Ratfactory (who?)
Urban Faery (who I confused for myself today)
DocBrite (who smartly auctions off her own books to raise money for her 26 cats)
Wil Wheaton (who found a JL421 Badonkadonk Land Cruiser/Tank today)

It’s been a very unproductive day. Fortunately I get to meet Texas and Gary tonight!

Was this ever in question?

You're a Britpopper. The UK is your thing. The
Smiths really were 'terrif' and Blur are indie
no matter how much money they made. You could
drink all the other indie kids under the table.
You plan on moving to London someday and dream
of one day owning every Beatles release on
vinyl.


You Know Yer Indie. Let's Sub-Categorize.
brought to you by Quizilla

This ain't no Sarah McLachlin song...

In the praised event that I actually fall asleep before midnight, I almost always wake up an hour or two after I have fallen asleep. It’s like there’s something programmed inside of me that insists that I should go to sleep until 2 am. Last night was one of those nights. I fell asleep shortly after 11 pm, but woke up at midnight freezing my ass of for some reason. It wasn’t really that cold, but I felt like an ice cube. So I got up and put on a sweatshirt and fuzzy socks (and I hate sleeping with socks on) and went back to sleep. I was kind of out of it, cause I kept hearing this weird end-of-the-world-ish sound over and over again. An hour later I was awoken again, this time by another noise that also freaked me out; again it sounded like the world was ending. As I lay there I tried to figure out if the sound was real, or just some leftover dream. Slowly I realised it was our doorbell ringing over and over again. Then it stopped. Was it really ringing? Was I dreaming it? Or worse, was there some axe-wielding psycho on our porch holding his finger on the button, hoping that some idiot would answer the door in the middle of the night. The ringing started again and I decided it was the killer. (Mostly cause I was still in that state of not quite awake yet.) So there I lay, listening to the ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong sound of my impending death, and waited until Chris came downstairs to face the psycho-killer. Of course there was no psycho-killer; it is in fact demon-ish possession (which was solved by a serious de-battery-ing.) Although I kind of wish it was the psycho-killer, because now, coupled with the shower of death, I think 3QF has to face the fact that our house is possessed by something evil. (Although the end-of-the-world-ish noise I started hearing again was likely the soundtrack to ZamBot27.) What’s worse? A house that is trying to drive you insane? Or a house that is trying to kill you? (Like my old residence, The Morgue) I think I’ll take the crazy, cause y’all know I’m half-way there…

I honestly think I would have fallen to an untimely death had I remained in The Morgue any longer than I did. In the 6 months that I was there, nice men from the fire department visited us several times. The first, when our carbon monoxide detector went off and the firemen informed us that our gas stove did not have proper ventilation and that we should leave all the windows open and stay out of the house for a while and never use the mo-fo again. The second, when I woke up to the neighbours banging on our door because the couch on our porch was in flames (due to someone “accidentally” setting a fire on the porch earlier that evening and failing to properly put the fire out.) We watched from our balcony as the firemen dragged the couch into the middle of the street and hosed it down. Neighbourhood entertainment. Then there was the time I was convinced that I could smell something burning as I lay in my bed trying to sleep. Luckily I listened to myself and did an inspection of my room, only to find that the outlet behind my bed had overheating and was burning a hole in my mattress. I coulda’ gone up in flames! And not to mention the fact that the previous 3 owners of the house had all died over a period of a few years. I really didn’t want to know how. And six months after moving in, I moved out. I found out that at some point after I moved out, the big tree in the backyard acquired some new tenants – termites. They infested it and the whole tree fell onto the house, crashing into what used to be my old bedroom.

Tv, Curd, Herpes & My Sausage. (In no particular order)

Asking for an iron at 3QF is the equivalent of telling a really funny joke. I’m sure it didn’t help (or helped the joke) that I was in the kitchen making dinner when I asked the boys-ies if they had one. Even though (for once) I actually needed an iron (because right now my scarf resembles a really long fuzzy sausage), I’m rather impressed that not one of us owns one. It’s true, I don’t believe in ironing. I don’t enjoy ironing, I rarely think it’s necessary, they get really hot, and a few wrinkles never hurt anyone. Plus I’m real lazy.

Seriously, you should watch this show.

While it appears to be just another CSI/cop/detective shows, I can guarantee you it is not. I find with that trend of television, there is very little character development and each episode is entirely a plot of clues to figure out, with very few insights on the characters internally. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. Initially the appeal of Boomtown was it’s structure, the Rashomon like way they showed each crime from many points of view, repeating, overlapping and rearranging the events of each episode. It’s not about “solving the mystery” but rather the people doing it; in many cases the guilty party maintaining their guilt, as opposed to some big reveal at the end exposing the least likely suspect. Blah. That’s stuff gets so boring. At times it can be a little dramatically heavy, but there are infusions of humour. I also love the music, the opening credits, the very charming Donnie Wahlberg (former NKOTB-er) and the fact that one of the characters often listens to Oasis.

Speaking of things I like, a co-worker went to Belleville this weekend and brought me some cheese curd (the real deal) from Reid’s Dairy. Mmmmmmm, cheese curd. Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it!

What do you call two brothers that share the herpes virus?
I dunno, ask Kate. (Who should seriously consider starting her own cat fund!...)

Fart, Gary Barlow, Noel Gallagher.

I’m still having trouble re-adjusting to getting up early for work. Does anyone else feel like giving up on life when the alarm goes off? Like really suicidal? It dissipates quickly after getting out of bed and injecting the caffeine, but for those first few moments every day, I truly wish I were dead.

This weekend I saw Lemony Snicket (it was way better then Harry Potter and had the best end credit sequence ever!), had a surprisingly good café au lait at Marche with three sick people (all recovering from some physical illness, but equally nutty in the noggin’ as well), finished the book (which content wise apparently would have ended up all farting and bitching about Gary Barlow & Noel Gallagher if the author had not edited the material), downloaded music for about 12 hours (Lemony Snicket soundtrack and Robbie’s b-sides – I think LimeWire is way better than Kazaa), made a pizza (mushrooms, red peppers, tomatoes, pineapple, red onion and chicken), did laundry (and ended up with a pocket full of change because I only had a $20), finished the Matrix critics commentary on Reloaded (and am getting increasingly angry about their inability to make any sense of the movie, and yet criticize it for not having enough meaning), finished knitting the scarf (all I have to do now is weave in the ends and press it into scarf shape), and watched two episodes of Boomtown (an exceptional show, even the second time around).

(Note to people I work with who won’t ever read this:
1. Slamming your mouse on the desk will not make it work better, nor will it make it cleaner.
2. I have no idea who you are talking about when you ask me if I got money from “you know that man/woman”.
3. It is not attractive when tuna falls out of your mouth as you are talking to me.
Saying the same thing five times does not make it any truer if you had only said it once.
4. I really don’t care what colour you paint the office; if you pick the colour it will be ugly and if I pick the colour you will complain about it to me for all of eternity.)

Right now, all I can think about is my bed.

Yay!

This may be the only thing that could possibly tear me away from the music of Robbie.

Somebody told me The Killers are kool and I'm inclined to agree.

I spent my last day of freedom yesterday almost entirely in bed. I managed to finish one set of matrix commentaries and an entire ball of black wool. So the first set of commentaries was by two "philosophers" who really like the movies, and more importantly, have some sort of understanding of them and an interpretation of what it all means. I was hoping that the second set of commentaries, three film critics who did not like the movies, would at least have some good arguments as to why they didn't like the movies. As it turns out, they didn't actually have any understanding of the films, and quite often expressed it with "well I think there's a meaning here, but I can't figure it out." Instead they make comments on how pretty Keanu is and how knows just how to sit up perfectly (and they're not being sarcastic!) It's actually quite astonishing how stupid these guys really are! (Not that I'm that swift - I just realised that Neo is an anagram for One. Sometimes I just can't see the obvious because I'm too busy looking at the big picture) I just cannot accept "I didn't get it, therefore it sucks" as a justifable opinion. Although I have to admit that once I've decided I don't like a movie, it gets increasingly difficult to remember exactly why.......like Darren Aronofsky the "genius" behind Pi and Requiem For A Dream . I dislike both of his films, who knows why? Candice says he's a schmarmy cheese-dick, and that's enough for me!

And in other useless but necessary information, Keanu's next three roles are a detective in Constantine, an undercover cop in A Scanner Darkly (dir. Richard frickin' Linklater) and a disgruntled cop in Spike Lee's The Night Watchman. Methinks he has a bad case of movie-role-tourettes. At least he's got a nice bod!

The last stretch...

This is the last late night of my holidays, and tomorrow will be the last morning to sleep in...
I'm not sure what will be worse, trying to go to sleep early tomorrow night, or getting up at 7am after not falling asleep. I think the real reason I hate working is that I have to get up early, especially when every part of me is insisting I am a night person. You'd think after 2 1/2 years of getting up early would fix me, but it certainly has not. Damn the man.

I visited my mom and the weasel-cat today. We watched 7 episodes of Greg The Bunny, and when I left she said she was probably going to finish the series. I came home, and while knitting, listened to the philosophers commentary on the first two matrix movies. Groovey. G'night. A'ight. (ahhhh-iggit)

Happy 2005!

This New Year's was perhaps the first one in a very long time that I didn't wish I was somewhere else. Erik and I spent the evening watching movies that I really like and coerced him into watching; Rushmore, Young Adam and Secretary. If he didn't enjoy any of them, I couldn't tell. It seems that every year new years eve gets less and less exciting, or rather I want it to be less exciting and more relaxing...Generally I think resolutions are a load of crap - if you really want to change something, do it regardless of the time of year! Having said that, this year I plan to: blog every (almost) day, keep a record of every single movie I watch, make at least one movie, keep up with the guitar and knitting learnings, and perhaps land a date this year???

2005 started well with a movie marathon of all three Matrix movies. (Chris and Matt quickly regretting giving me the boxset for Christmas, and my brother loving that he could borrow my old copies of all the movies) I have found that after watching them together, in succession, I may actually get Revolutions and am making more sense of the whole trilogy. A pickle it is indeed...