Check out all my cool shit.

Check out my guillotine

…And my sash

…And my ’stache

…Oh and this bird that tried to kill me when my back was turned.

One Brow, One World

Last night some friends from work and I went to a shisha lounge in the west loop. The crowd pretty much ended up being the waterloo/toronto contingency at my company that was meeting to discuss the hostile canadian take over we are planning… of the world. My friend Arvind brought along a friend that he met in Singapore awhile ago. A lovely brown girl named Sonya from Toronto who looked really familiar. I just assumed it was the brown effect that made her look like someone I might know, but in actuality I had never seen her before. We got to talking and it turns out she is from Brampton, went the the same high school as me, graduated a couple of years earlier, was really good friends with one of my best friends older sister, and she knows some people that I know from waterloo! Back in the highschool days I was a caped wonder, so I just assumed she wouldn’t recognize me, but she did! I’m sure no one really cares about my random encounters with people from the homeland, but damn she totally blew my mind. It just goes to show that this unibrow really does run quite uninterrupted.

I’ll show you!

So I have been told that I need to quit writing about my lame-o life and add some more interesting things to see and read on this blog. Instead I have decided to go the disturbing route. Enjoy

Courtesy of Shaun

p.s. Tappin’ Toes next performance?

Juicy Beef Tits.

The name of the game today was just how fat we all got over the long weekend.

“I got so fat over the long weekend I was asked to check my gut before I flew home because it exceeded the carry-on weight limit.” ZING!

“I got so fat over the long weekend I nearly died of cardiac arrest.” SHAZOW

“I got so fat over the long weekend. Now I want to kill myself.” YOWZA

Yeah… most people didn’t really have the best responses. Its OK though, nobody listens to fattys anyways.

Your love is like bad medicine

My father takes many medications for various ailments; a heart condition, diabetes, etc.. But he is also a fan of preventative medicines which he insists takes the form of vitamins. And not just your run of the mill Flintstones variety… we’re talking swallowing babies horse pill variety. In proper form, as soon as my parents saw me this weekend they insisted that I was not eating enough, was malnourished, I was wasting away. Obviously my dad reaches first for his trusty multivitamins. He pulls out the industrial sized bottle and extracts a pill (which required TWO hands). “I take these pills every day” he says as if that is supposed to convince me (my dad is 62 but looks at least 83… ) I grab the bottle to take a closer look… really to make sure he isn’t giving me his centrum silver 50+ vitamins…. only to discover they are One a Day capsules ’specially formulated for women’… “Dad… have you seriously been taking these everyday?”….. yes he replies… “I got this bottle at Costco”. “Uh… dad.. these are specially formulated for women. Are you concerned about menopause?”. Apparently he was…..apparently… he…. was…

Salvation by Association

I have been listening to the new Dears album non-stop since I got it a month ago. Its amazing! If you don’t have it, get it. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard one of their songs played on the latest episode of Grey’s Anatomy. The show is amazing and they play amazing music to boot. What more do you need?

So I have head back to Canada, once again for the American thanksgiving weekend (a good month and a half late if you ask me). I flew in late on wed night to surprise my parents once again. One day the novelty is sure to wear off, but for now I’m milking it for all its worth. And let me tell you what it is worth….its worth its weight in curry. Delicious salty, spicy, smelly curry… enough to regulate ones bowel movements for at least one month, and cost you about $600 in curry sweat smell removal dry cleaning bills.

Coming home, for the third time since I left in September, has made me realize a few things. Firstly, I really need to make some local friends. Secondly, I hate flying. No matter what I do to prepare myself, no matter how short the flight is, I hate sitting in that plane. My experience this time around was a little more pleasant because I was sitting next to a very gentle elderly woman from Palestine who smelled like roses. She crossed herself before we took off and prayed on her rosary the whole flight. I figured if god was gonna spare anyone, it would be this sweet old lady. And clearly the young girl who helped the sweet old lady fill out her customs form would at least get some special treatment in the case of mortal danger. Thats what I’m banking on.. salvation by association.

It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood

There are rare moments in ones life when you are seriously confronted with your own sense of ingratitude. I had one of those moments this weekend. On my way home sunday night, I was approached by a lady looking for directions. She was trying to get to a church on LaSalle street. In my bumbling way, I was able to point her in the general direction she needed to go, but couldn’t help with any specifics. And that was when she broke down and started crying. Let me give you a visual. This woman was black, missing quite a few teeth, had visible scars all over her face, was ridiculously skinny, but was sporting a 7 month pregnant belly (details of which I learned later on in our encounter). She was looking for the church because she needed a safe place to stay. Her crackhead boyfriend had apparently become violent.. she fled and reported him to the police.. but now, after following the protocol she was turned away to fend for herself. She couldn’t go back home and besides a few phone numbers and addresses the police were generally not very helpful. So, I lent her my phone so she could call an aunt she had in the suburbs, gave her $20 to buy a train ticket and wished her luck. I left feeling so horrible about life in general that I ended up giving money to every homeless person I saw on my way to work the next day. Then I felt better about myself and have ignored them all since.

In a Nut Shell

OH EM GEE

Can you believe that House of blues gave me complimentary tickets to go see Kevin Federline!!  I was so excited, until I realized the concert was last wed.  [insert appropriately sad emoticon here]

Also.. tomorrow, I officially get kicked out of my corporate bliss and join the ranks of such commoners as…  well… everybody else.  This move necessitated a trip to Sears to purchase a real bed.  I spent the afternoon lying around on my back testing out mattresses [insert inappropriate comment about lying around on back] and dropped quite the pretty penny on my first ever new bed.  I have been a victim of hand me downs my entire life, so I figured it was about time I stopped sleeping on the urine stained sagged out coil mattresses I’ve had since the days my sis and I used to share a bed [insert disturbing comment about inappropriate sister love]

This move has forced me to properly clean the apartment, and thus revealed just how lazy and disgusting I really am.  Apparently I haven’t recycled since I moved in two months ago, cause this is what I found under the sink

thus subsequently revealing I have a problem.  But I did have another OMG moment recently when I discovered that they make Arizona Ice Tea in 2 litre bottles!!

DELISH!

Exasperating Encounters of the Elevator Kind

Some might say that chivalry is dead… I would say it is alive and kicking… me… right in the funbags.  I’m sure my experiences in this respect aren’t unique… but honestly guys.. WTF??  If there are 18 guys in an elevator.. is it really necessary for everyone to wait for ME to get out first…. I appreciate the gesture, thanks…but honestly, it’s all getting a bit out of hand.  Are my boobs that big of an obstruction that its better for them to get off the elevator first before they injure someone on the way out?  The other day, I had a guy rotate a revolving door for me!!  I realize I am a woman, but my bones aren’t decalcified or osteoporosis–ed just yet.  My wrists aren’t that dainty.. in fact, lets be honest, I probably have more hair on my chest than most men out there.  I can handle revolving my own door.  So guys, give the ridiculous archaic traditions a rest already.