I'm fucking miserable.

We've said "I love you" so many times. We've said "goodbye" so many times.
Each time expecting it's the last. Hoping it isn't. Hoping it is.
I keep coming, not for your benefit, not for mine. Maybe for us both.
I've accepted that you're gone for so long, that now that it's almost true I'm having trouble accepting it.
I don't want you to be gone, but I want you to go easily.
Today was the hardest. Seeing it's not easy for you. Your hardship is hard for all of us.
I want for you the serenity you're supposed to have in the brochures.
I'm not ok. You're not ok.
Please be ok.

I keep forgetting to write shit here.

Things are more than awesome. I'm finally free of the worst person I've ever shared breathing space with. I'm terrified for the folks he's running with now, since I was warned before moving in with him that it would be the mistake of my lifetime. It was. I'm now going to listen to people when they warn me about someone. Not every situation in life is a craigslist scam, but people who've suffered before are authorities on these things.
I'm told the people he's rallying around him now have already been warned, but are of the opinion that "he didn't do those things to me so they don't count." That was the same attitude I approached the situation with, and I ended up hosed. I really hope he learned from living with me that abusing relationships was a bad idea, but I have very obvious doubts. Since living with him, I've heard from all the other people he's stolen from. It makes me really sad. I wish there was something I could have done other than leave that situation, but talking to him about it didn't work.

Today's piece of advice: When your friends tell you you're making a huge mistake, trust that they're helping you learn from their mistake. Take a huge step back and analyze the situation, but don't discount someone who's been there.

A great way to be a shitty parent.

Read this, if you haven't already: http://www.cnn.com/2011/US/06/07/sissy.boy.experiment/index.html

If it's too much to read, the synopsis is that these parents put their effeminate 5 year old son through "therapy" to "cure" him.

At 38, he took his own life.

I have had so many reactions to this that I can barely sit still. In fact, I'm 4 sentences in, as you can see, and I've already paced around my apartment several times, returning to the computer to try and make sense of it all.

First, I'm over the moon with joy that my parents didn't (and hopefully had they had the chance wouldn't have) put me through such a bizarre attempt at conditioning.

Next, I'm seeing the very obvious end to the "nature vs nurture" argument about homosexuality. This kid obviously didn't decide he was gay, or have effeminate tendencies, they were just there. The problem with nature vs nurture, is that they shouldn't be at opposition, they should be cooperative. As a parent, you are to nurture whatever it is you created via nature.

Then I'm angry for more reasons than I've counted or organized in my head.

The mom, who volunteered her kid for this based on some ad on TV, shouldn't have been a parent. If you think your kid is damaged because he'd rather wear a wig than play with a pretend razor, you are the problem; not your kid. To allow a system of reward vs violence based on that criteria makes you a sadist. Enrolling your other "normal" children in the system to make the "sick" child feel the reward vs violence system is ok, is abuse. The father who routinely beat his kids every Friday for years after the "therapy" concluded is just as culpable.

The long term trauma suffered by this child extended to spending his youth feeling ostracized, frightened and alone. He spent 3 years in high school eating lunch on the toilet to avoid interaction. His siblings have also been hurt by this, recalling that their brother lied to the researchers because he was "conditioned to say what they wanted to hear." After being beaten constantly when being myself, I'd do my damnedest to be someone else too.

The parents of this kid wanted to raise a "normal" well-adjusted child. They believed that this "treatment" would be to the benefit of all. I'd like to think that if they thought the "therapy" would cause the eventual suicide of their kid, that they'd not have gone through with it. They now blame the researcher that conducted the study/therapy for the death of their son.

The researcher in this case, went on to a successful 30+ years of being a champion of "fixing gay" and lobbying against LGBT rights based on his research, lending his scientific credibility to religious lobby groups and founding the Family Research Council (a faith-based lobby group).

So many people I know are parents. I hope all of you read this. Wake up. If your kid is displaying behaviour that you don't agree with, think about what they're doing: Are they hurting anyone? Are they trying to understand the world? Are they learning from what they're doing? Are they being self destructive? Ask yourself why you disagree with their behaviour. Why are you bothered that your daughter is playing with trucks or into playing hockey? Why are you bothered that your son has created a planet full of unicorns or rocks out to Shania in your heels? Ask yourself if you're projecting your own conditioning onto your kid. Your job as a parent is to raise a good person. Teach your kids right from wrong. Teach them to do right by people. Be there for them when they fuck up. Make them understand that doing the right thing is the most important thing, even when it sucks. Your job isn't to hold your kids to ideals, or force them down a specific path, or to ensure they marry the person of your choosing.

Never forget that when you're raising a kid, that while you want nothing but the best for them, you need to respect what they want. You are raising a person. While they may look like tiny versions of you, they're in fact individuals with their own needs and desires. You can learn from them as much as you'll teach them. Be ok with what your kid wants, and be happy when they live the life you made for them.

My boyfriend is better than yours

This week has been fucking weird.

I started my third-ever film related job. This is awesome because I'm working on something that I LOVE and I'm being paid for it. I'm the guy doing the online campaign for Cell 213 - A psychological thriller by Stephen Kay that was made in Canada. I'll write a review about it for another post because it's wicked. This post isn't about that. This post is about a series of ex-boyfriend hauntings.

The first is completely retarded, slash hilarious - to me. We are Cougar Town watchers. I won't apologize for that because it's fucking hilarious. My guy even surprised me with a giant wine glass when I was having an awful rotten day. Just as its counterpart in Cougar Town, we named it. Get used to Big Diesel. I know nobody reads this, but if anyone happens to, and I reference Big Diesel, now you know why. If you're a Cougar Town watcher, you've seen them in Hawaii and met Big Kimo. (my ex from a few years ago is named Kimo.) He and I don't even talk anymore, but it was weird, because who the fuck has that name? Seriously. This is not a decision parents make lightly. Anywhore, I saw that on the show, and laughed it off as a funny coincidence. Life outside my head has also been happening.

I've been working my ass off. That's my way, and it's amazing to be working again, especially for something that I like with people that are great. The public part of my campaign was supposed to be finished early today (and I learned before I left the team at the hotel that it's not), so I made my way home way later than expected.

On my way home I was to drop off some stuff to this awesome restaurant we ate at yesterday called Fuzion. Halfway there I run into a former flame with his fella and a friend of his. They insist I have a beer with them - totally fine since we've maintained a friendship since I angry-dumped him. It took some time, but we're great friends now. Anyone who thinks they can't be friends with an ex is a dick. Kinda. There are obviously situations that don't allow it, but I was only seeing this dude for like 2 months. I'm glad I managed to become his friend because we'd never have worked as a couple, but we have tons of laughs together. His new fella is awesome, which is great, and he gets along with my awesome fella too. It would be a double win, but I get better sex and a more awesome guy who doesn't do stupid shit like start fights in the street. His fella also regales me with stories about me, and about how he's heard I'm the coolest guy his dude has ever dated. I've hung out with them a couple times now, and we get along great. I know a gazillion people who are cooler than me, so I feel a smidge bad for them, but not really because they're super happy and I am too.

I left those guys and dropped off the stuff to the restaurant. Nothing special happened, but I think the owner's assistant is going to keep the poster to himself. Not at all why I brought it, but it's not my place to question it. I joined the guys I'd just ran into for a drink, and laughed about a girl wearing her sunglasses outside. It's night time, obviously. My random singing of "sunglasses at night" becomes a crappyoke moment, to the dismay of the other patrons. We finish our drinks and I left.

On my way home I walk by a piano bar. I see the fella I dated before the guy mentioned earlier, so I decide to stop in for a hello and am stuck waiting til closing time to say hi. I ordinarily wouldn't wait, because I'm not a very patient person. I decide to wait because we've been yapping about getting together for a visit for some time so he could meet my guy and I could hang out with the dogs he has. I sat down with his new fella who is super nice and tells me he's heard all about me. For the second time in a night I'm told that I'm the fave ex-boyfriend. I'm not particularly ego-centric, but like every man, I have an ego.

Now I'm told twice in 1 night that I'm the best ex-boyfriend someone's had. While it's nice to be thought of fondly, and quoted (my many weird sayings are apparently common speech to them) I can't help but be terrified that the awesomely perfect guy I'm with now is just collecting anecdotes about why I was fun to date. My logical brain knows this to not be the case, because I'm with the exact right guy for me, and from what he tells me I'm that guy for him too. Tonight's random ex boyfriend hauntings totally slapped my neurotic side in the face though. Now that I'm writing it (talking it out to myself) I think that seeing them happy with people just makes me really glad for them, and remember that they're just people, and it makes me feel like it's ok to be their friends because there's no way things will get awkward. Seeing myself write/think that makes me feel like I think way more of myself than I should like they should all be alone, or way less, like I require their approval even though I left them for whatever incompatibility I saw. Either way, they're people I still care about and seeing them happy makes me happy. Happiness is so infectious!

Mayhaps I need to see a therapist. Mayhaps this is just the avenue I need to talk myself through all my nonsense. Either way, I'm SO Lucky/Thrilled/ to be with a guy who understands me, supports my life choices, isn't afraid of my friends, doesn't put up with my nonsense, sends me love notes, takes my call for no reason while he's working, and isn't afraid to love me despite all of the horrible things he's dealt with in the past. Despite the myriad ways I've been (not literally) shit on, I've bounced back with most of myself intact. I'm excited to be with him, I'm excited to prove myself worthy of him, I'm excited to come home to him (we've just moved into our first home) and I'm excited to make a life and family with him. I've got someone who keeps me excited about every day. That's the reason for the title of this post. I know too many people who aren't excited about what's next. I don't mean to be mean.. I'm just sayin. I really hope everyone gets to be as full of love as I am.

New gig!

Oops! I've been so busy with life going all wiggy that I've not updated.

The short version - I've moved out of my pretty apartment because it was infested with ninjas that liked to make my things disappear. Then I got work doing an online campaign for a film! I'm pretty damned excited. New digs in a couple days. Everything's comin up Milhouse!

FeFF11 is a wrap.

This season of FeFF was by far one of the greatest experiences I've had. I've never worked with more interesting, insightful and creative people. To be part of a festival that truly celebrates the hard work of women in a field that is still by all accounts an old boys club was truly inspiring. To hear that these amazing works of art were created by so many people who volunteered their time and resources on belief in the end result alone is amazing. I'm thrilled to have met so many wonderful people, both participants and festival staff most of which were also volunteers!

I had a talk with Leslie Ann Coles at one point while running between the hotel and the theatre and she told me of the festival's beginnings. Screenings attended by only a couple of people after a level of personal investment and sweat equity that would have disarmed so many others. To see attendance figures at record highs with some houses that were so full that festival staff couldn't even stay in them just means the world. The sense of community that was present at the festival was described as unmatched by any other film community out there. All of the people supporting each others work, sharing their insights and points of view made this time very special. To be able to work behind something that you have a strong personal belief in is better than any job out there.

I want to thank everyone that was involved as a participant, specifically those of you that I had a chance to meet or hear talk on a panel sharing your stories on the state of the industry and personal struggles. I was particularly wowed by Anne Tait and Carol Whiteman. I feel very lucky to have met them both and heard their takes on the industry.

Another huge thanks to everyone who went to the Cayle Chernin tribute. I never had the good fortune to meet her, but the memorial put together was truly moving.

I also want to thank the amazing women that I worked with! Diane, Ally, Leslie, Ellen, Cara - you all are amazing. The countless hours and emails and phone calls and driving all over the place, all while looking like a zillion dollars. Be very proud. I definitely can't wait to work with all of you again.

oh em gee.

I do NOT envy celebs. Twitter is overwhelming for them. Rightfully so.

Eye Cream will save the world

Is there a zombie apocalypse happening in your crow's feet? Fear not, good citizens! Kiehl's Abyssine Eye Cream+ has SURVIVAL MOLECULES. I don't know what Survival Molecules are, or what they're supposed to do, but isn't it reassuring that you can put them on your face?


Are the creases beside your peepers like tiny abysses, with demons lurking in them? This is the product for you.


Seriously. This exists.

RUDE. Or: Fuck you, Media.

Today's post is a disapproving finger-waggle to Toronto Media. Seriously Miss Manners, where are you?? I know if you could see this you'd cut a bitch.

My twatter feed is lit up with livebloggers going on about Sgt Ryan Russell's funeral. His death in the line of duty makes me ill. I'm not that good about death to begin with and the idea of it being someone's job to die because there are lunatics about just makes me sad.

Having died in service to his city, it's definitely sensible that the city provides a funeral service large enough for the citizens to pay their respects despite never knowing him in life. What grosses me out though, is the media presence. A funeral is supposed to be a solemn and respectful time for people to say goodbye to a loved one. To have "journalists" tweeting every last detail as it happens or videotaping it for the 6 o'clock news is so fucking tacky that I wish I could raise Miss Manners to punch them all in the face. Get off your cell phones or get out - it's a funeral. By all means right a human interest piece on it after the fact. Totally appropriate. Nobody who isn't there needs to know the exact moment a body was lowered into the ground, or at which time there were bagpipers piping.

So here's to all the "journalists" who thought it would be appropriate to peck away at their PDA's or stand behind a camera yapping into a mic instead of showing honest respect for someone who died protecting their city. Sensationalizing a funeral is disgusting and makes you an attention whoring hack, not a respectable journalist. Would you want a bunch of people videotaping you if he was your brother? Your son? Your husband? Or would you rather be left to mourn in private with the comfort of your family and friends?

Ew. Just... ew.

This one is nsfw. Be shocked if you must.

So my friend is sifting through his Grindr removing the unfortunate looking fellas to improve his experience when he stumbles across THIS PIC. (Ps: It's Toronto Mayor Rob Ford).

For those of you out there who don't know what Grindr is, it's an iphone app. Think lavalife, but at once more sophisticated and more caveman like. You scroll through random dudes arranged by GPS location til one strikes your fancy (aka tightens your manties) and you hit him up for a meaningful overnight fellationship. Perfect for those lazy caveman homos who don't want to have to drag someone far after they've clubbed him over the head.

First, EW. Second.. I thought politicians were supposed to arrange tranny hookers on poorly lit side streets. I pray to baby jebus and Sarah Jessica Parker that this isn't true... and if it is, all I offer is "GO BACK TO CRAIGSLIST AND LEAVE THE SHINY IPHONES ALONE."
Third, Ewwww. A lot. More than a lot.

I'm going with the assumption that this is a cruel cruel joke. Well played, whoever you are. Your actions have caused my likely irreversible running to the dark side. Go easy on me ladies, I'm new at this.

Fuck You, Music Industry

The state of things:

Headliner - Jeffree Star - Busted dude in a wig who can't sing. Seriously. A boy in a wig isn't that interesting. Back it up with some talent, or just back it the fuck up.

Middle opener - Dev - "like a G6" - yah - that girl who i thought was kedollarha when i heard it. She performed the song twice over her own backing tracks..... AMAZING. She also did a bunch of covers. She owes an apology to Fergie. (The singing one, not the Weight Watchers one).

Opener - It Boys - never heard anything by them before, but they were a solid (yet way over-styled) band. The only talent on the tour, yet the least recognized. They played fun songs, and sounded like they were just a CD that was done by a good producer. Someone should sign them, but then punch them out so that they stop being so Hollywood-douchey. They could go somewhere, but will probably be the Edwin of Hollywood (aka bartending and selling the cars they thought they could afford from having a hit single).

More Essential Parenting Skills

So This happened..

Tip to all my friends who are parents.. If you're not going to get your kid the pony or Wii they're asking for, the runner-up gift should probably not be a crossbow.

OK - I'm impossible to please

So in my random facebook newsfeed cruising the other day, I happened upon an article ( http://advocate.com/News/News_Features/Arkansas_School_Board_Member_Thinks_Fags_Should_Die/ ) about the VP of a school board in Midland, Arkansas decrying "Spirit Day" (That day where people wore purple to commemorate the gay kids who committed suicide because of the bullying/pressure/etc that they were faced with.

I've just read a follow up piece where Clint McCance has stated he's resigning as VP of the Midland School Board and was filled with oodles of joy - but that's not the point of this.

I did some hunting around and found a screen cap of the comment thread underneath his initial post.

In the FB thread, he lashes out to someone who commented "Because hatred is always right" with

"It pisses me off though that we make a special purple fag day for them. I like that fags cant procreate. I also enjoy the fact that they often give each other aids and die. If you arent against it, you might as well be for it."

My initial reaction was blinding rage; like opening my fridge to see bacon gone bad, then turning around to see someone setting my house on fire. Not. Cool. Plus - Screw this guy, I'm going to have to jump through flaming hoops to get the privilege of being a parent, (and I'm going to be amazing at it FYI) while people like him can be drunk in their back seat and it just happens, resulting in some poor lil nugget having to be raised by someone like that.

Then I think about it. This guy who has a fleeting grasp of the English language is an ELECTED OFFICIAL!! (ex - he even used the word "thereselves" a bunch of times. Am I the only one whose FB automatically spell checks?) This is a man who presumably hundreds of people voted for to lead educators! The Vice President of a SCHOOL BOARD is unaware that thereselves isn't a word. I know I'm harping on that tiny thing, but I'm Constable Patrick of the spelling police. Ask around.

The other COMPLETELY HORRIBLE bit about his being an elected official is that he CANNOT BE FIRED. The closest thing would be for the board to hold a vote of non confidence and oust him that way. This obviously made me think of the bigoted mess Toronto has just elected as Mayor and the obvious parallels.

An elected official making racist/homophobic/uneducated comments sets the example that being racist/homophobic/uneducated is the way to live, as long as you back it up with religious conviction.

Here's a fucking newsflash. Pick a religion - go ahead, take your time...

The core message of ALL organized religion is to do right by people. Love thy neighbour, blah blah blah. Using whatever thing in the sky you point at as a basis for being judgmental makes you a GINORMOUS FUCKING JERKASS!! It's a direct opposition to the core message in whatever book of make believe you choose.

The next thing - Being an Elected Official means your responsibility is to represent the needs of your constituents. That means you have to be legitimately invested in the best interests of everyone. You represent a whole group of people publicly, which may lead to the world stage whether you like it or not. Had this matter gone unchecked, the whole world would be looking at Wherever, Arkansas as a place where bigotry is right. Here in Toronto, if you google Rob Ford, you're inundated with Youtube videos of examples of why he's the exact wrong person to have in a position of responsibility to anyone but himself. The world is currently having a huge laugh at our expense, because he as our representative makes the people who live in Toronto look automatically like bigots. As one of the most progressive cities in the world, it's doubtless that there's head scratching abounding.

Then we come to the bit where it turns out Clint McCance is resigning his post as VP of the School Board due to the backlash from his commentary. I squealed. Like I was just presented with a walk in closet to call my own. (For storage not for myself, we're clearly past that, right?)

Reading further about his decision to step down... he was partly concerned with his word choice (not the point dude), partly concerned with the impact his words had on a group of people who have lost their loved ones to hate-related suicide (exactly the point) and partly concerned about the thousands of phone calls, letters etc with death threats to him and his family - which incidentally caused him to move his family away to keep them safe.

Seriously?

First, let me own that I'm constantly advising people and things to set themselves on fire as a general statement that indicates I'm irritated about something. It's my way.. shwatever.

People seriously threatened him and his family because of what he said. What exactly did his wife or kids do to deserve fearing for their lives? Sure, I get that people are angry about the things he wrote, but telling someone that you're going to kill them for shit they say WILL NEVER SOLVE ANYTHING. I jumped on the "get him to resign" bandwagon immediately because someone who behaves that way should NEVER be involved with educating children. My reaction was to send a note to the board about WHY his words were not acceptable.

EDUCATION is the key to changing perspectives. I'm not talking about 10th grade algebra (Sorry Mrs Faux, I've still never used it) I'm talking about helping people understand how they can help to improve their lives and the lives of others.

So to all those people who reacted like cavemen - "You Wrong - I keel you." Look at yourselves. If you disagree with something / someone - explain why. Remember that time your kindergarten teacher said "Use your words"? She didn't mean use them to say "I'm going to kill you and your family because you said/did something awful. To wrap it up - I now feel badly for this person who doesn't deserve it, because the backlash of his utter jerkassness was the wrong sort. Overshadowing my utter joy that progress was made in the fight against homophobia with a shroud of utter crap that the message was lost just sucks.

That thing that pissed me off today

So here's a short article.

http://advocate.com/News/News_Features/Arkansas_School_Board_Member_Thinks_Fags_Should_Die/

Seriously! How do you make a career of leading educators when you can't spell? Ignorant fucking idiots like this are why kids are killing themselves!
On top of that, this guy is an ELECTED OFFICIAL!! What this tells everyone outside of th...at community is that the people there stand behind his beliefs. Sure this dude is only typically in his local media, since the school board in Nowhere, Arkansas doesn't have any local impact anywhere else, but then shit like this happens and it's on the global stage.
Now we in Toronto have the same thing - Throughout the campaign, examples of our new mayor being an uninformed wife beating racist homophobe were everywhere. The global stage sees THAT elected here, making all of his nonsense come off as publicly accepted.
It's about to become embarrassing to be called a Torontonian.

An open apology to my fellow TTC Riders; OR: Dear entitlement-complex-afflicted asshat;

I’m sorry. I’m sorry rabid wolves ate your parents when you were an infant leaving you orphaned to fend for yourselves and learn the basics of urban survival. In the interest of furthering humanity I’ll share some tidbits about how to not be a total jerkass while enduring the Public Transit Experience.

1. Treat the bus, streetcar, subway, LRT like an elevator. When the door opens, people are going to get out – Let Them! They don’t want to go where you’re going, and standing in front of the door is an invitation to being trampled, smacked with luggage or purses, glared at, or sworn at. I’m an efficient multitasker, so when faced with this particular situation, I’m inclined to try and accomplish as many of these as possible.

2. There are people behind you! Get out of the way. If you “need” to be the first one into the subway car, keep moving when you enter it. I *Will* step on your crocs or toddler should you decide that the throngs of people trying to get on the train don’t matter once you’ve entered.

3. I know the window seats offer a crap view of miles of nothing, but suck it up and move over so that other people can sit down too. Nobody wants to lap-dance on you just to get a seat on a ttc vehicle. People just aren’t that inherently slutty. Deal.

4. Hold your bag, purse, newspaper or whatever. It doesn’t need a chair, I promise. I also promise that your shitty mcbreakfast won’t spontaneously combust if you carry it in your lap. But if you set your coffee on the seat beside you, I will light a candle in church and pray that it tips over and soaks your ass in scalding, hazelnutty goodness.

5. I get that we’re in close quarters in these tiny transit chairs. My ass isn’t even that big, and it still spills over. There is no need to accentuate this by opening your newspaper completely and resting your arm on my leg. You’re not superman, you can’t read two pages at once. Fold that shit up and get off my lap.
a. You’re tired. You had to wake up early. Bitch bitch bitch. I worked til 4 am and am stuck beside you snoring away on a subway at 9:30 am. Cool, catch some z’s if you want, but get your effing head off my shoulder. I’m not your build-a-bear and have no desire to cuddle with you. Even if you’re cute, it’s just creepy as hell. So help you if you drool on me.

6. If your headphones are drowning out my headphones, we have a problem. Well, you have a problem, because I’m going to gnaw your wire apart and then sing to you myself. Trust, this wouldn’t be pleasant.

7. I don’t know where you get the idea that you’ll get to your destination faster by travelling up my ass. I’m probably not even going to the same place as you. I tend to not wear stripes, so how you’re seeing my performance-enhancing racing stripes that encourage you to climb up there baffles me. I assure you they’re a figment of your imagination. Maybe just lay off the crack and you’ll stop seeing them. And lay off the Paul Tracey infatuation, it’s spoiling your ability to make good life choices.

8. If you’re screaming at your ex into your cell phone like a Mel Gibson wannabe, people are going to stare. Stop making your lameass life a public spectacle and there will be no issue here. This goes double for people travelling with their children. They’re old enough to know you’re acting like an asshole.
a. If you’re having any other sort of phone conversation, keep it down. Nobody gives even the tiniest rat’s ass about your life – good or bad.
b. If you’re a gaggle of teenage girls squealing on about anything: climb into a garbage bag and jump into the river. If you do not have a garbage bag, one will be happily provided for you. Or just don’t be a squealing Chihuahua and go on to live a long happy life filled with the whole world not hating your shrieking ass.

9. Don’t smoke on transit. This isn’t a new rule. I obey it, so you should too. You’re just asking for people to remind you what a dick you are should you choose to ignore it. I hope you get fined. Or gored by wild donkeys. Whichever.

I hope that our crossing paths in the future doesn't completely suck.

Love,

Me.

Boyfriend Application

My Roomie is on the hunt for a new fella, and someone sent him a "boyfriend application." Finding it largely irrelevant, I reworked it for him. I'm nice like that.

1. Your Name:

2. Age:

3. Fave Color:

4. Sign:

5. Location:

6. Height:

7. Hair Color:

9. Piercings/Tattoos:

10. Marital Status/Current Dating Situation:

11. Additional Websites You Want To Provide URLS to with Info About You:



All About You!

1. You're walking down the street and usually...

a - the fellas fall all over themselves to get your number.

b - your earphones are on and you're oblivious to your surroundings.

c - people cross to the other side because of my stone cold gaze.

d - are you effing kidding me? this is Toronto - we ignore strangers here.

2. To make ends meet, you...

a - work a job you hate for great money and or perks.

b - work a job you love for next to nothing, but you're happy.

c - support the global economy via the bank of mom and dad.

d - you rent yourself to science or older affluent gentlemen.

3. Your ex boyfriend calls you...

a - 'his boyfriend' because you're still dating him.

b - all the time because he's not over you.

c - on your birthday because you're still on good terms.

d - 'that guy i wish would die in a fire.'

4. Your idea of a great date

a - dinner & drinks and a movie.

b - a walk about town.

c - drinking/snorting/smoking your feelings til you're making out with that drag queen with a garbage bag stuffed dress because hey.. we're just casual right?

d - some adventure dealie like white water rafting or cliff diving.

e - doesn't matter as long as you put out.

5. There's music playing - Bad Romance comes on. You...

a- bust out the dance moves in a display of your utter fierceness.

b - what's playing? I don't know this song.

c - sing along.

d - break into the "i shit my pants" parody version to avoid blood trickling from your ears.

ME ME ME

1. Oh NO! I have to bail on our super fun plans because I've come down with the guatemalan zombie hooker flu, probably from my jerkass roomie. You...

a - show up armed with neo citran, tissues and bad movies.

b - understand and reschedule.

c - stay away - you're not getting ME sick too!

d - suddenly have a handy excuse to ask out one of my friends!

2. I'm being hit on at a party where I'm working. You...

a - step in and advise the m-fer to back off and get his own sammich.

b - punch first, ask questions later.

c - three's company tooooo.

d - get that you're dating someone who isn't going to succumb to the advances of yet another drunk wannabe at a work function, and get us another beer.

3. OOPS! I missed your call. You...

a - leave a message saying hey and trust a return call will happen.

b - call a couple more times because maybe I didn't hear the phone.

c - send a handful of text messages asking where I am / what I'm doing / why for the love of sarah jessica parker am I not calling you back RIGHT NOW?!?!

d - break it off - how DARE I not be waiting by the phone for your call?

4. BLAST! We've only been seeing each other a week and you discover I'm actually SUPER nerdy. You...

a - laugh it off, they're only comics. It can't be that bad.. can it?

b - find it endearing as long as you don't have to talk about which spiderman was better.

c - RUN! You can't be seen with someone who knows the difference between marvel and dc.

d - disrobe to reveal your superman underoos.

Dear Tim Hortons Employee

Dear Tim Hortons Employees,

I understand that you are an integral part of Canadiana, and that while separately you're mere mortals, as a group you create the magic and wonder that is the Tim Hortons Experience. Will someone please tell me which location this exists at? Because every location I visit makes me want to rub salted broken glass in my eyes.

I'll be the bigger person here and check to make sure I don't just have unrealistic expectations.

My typical order consists of some combination of the following:

1. (one) Extra Large (because you don't have Carafe sized) coffee - double double. OR:

1. (one) Large Iced Cappuccino made with Chocolate Milk.

AND / OR

1. (one) Plain (non toasted) Bagel with Herb and Garlic Cream Cheese.

Usually it's the coffee and the bagel. Tres simple, right? I can wake up and make this happen for myself in my kitchen, despite the fact that it takes me several hours after waking up to match the brain function of a dead walrus.

The process (having worked in a coffee shop many moons ago) goes something like this as I recall:

Coffee Preparation

• Take a cup from the stack with the largest cups in it.
• Push the button with two little cups for cream (God help you if I request milk and you have to *gasp* pour it freehand)
• Pour coffee into the same cup you just *hopefully* managed to pour cream into.
• Add two spoonfuls of sugar. (See what they did there? Double (as in TWO) Creams, Double (WHOA! Two again) Sugars - they went and called it a Double Double! With trickery like that it's not a wonder it's such a confusing recipe!
• STIR MY EFFING COFFEE!!! (I know this is a tall order since NONE of you do it - I once asked a Tim Hortons employee why they never stir the coffee and she answered with complete conviction that the sugar immediately dissolves when added to the cup. Guess what, my brown-clad geniuses - adding a couple spoonfuls of sugar to a cup of any liquid will only ensure that the bottom of said cup contains a puddle of goo. Try it at home, but with adult supervision since your employer clearly fears that stirring a cup of coffee is the 4th sign of the Apocalypse).
• Put the lid on. Press it down around the edges. If you can still see the rim of the cup (That thing you tell us to roll up every few months to not win anything, or maybe a donut) when the lid is on, you're DOING IT WRONG!

Bagel Preparation

• Take a PLAIN Bagel from the rack
• Cut open said Bagel if this hasn't already been done for you. The result should look like two bagels, but with flat surfaces for spreading cream cheese. This is the objective here - I don't give a shit about bagels, they are a delivery system for cream cheese and nothing more. Unless they're delivering butter or bacon or eggs, but I'm not about to go all crazy and over-complicate things for you because I'm nice.
• Spread the Herb and Garlic Cream Cheese on the Bagel.
• Cut the Bagel in half again. (The result should look like the letter C and a backward letter C).
• Wrap the Bagel in that nifty printed paper, and put it in a bag.

Ok - Maybe I'm being difficult. Seeing it laid out that way, I see there are ELEVEN whole steps to preparing my over the top coffee and bagel. I'm not even counting handing my order across the counter or making change for a five dollar bill. How you people make it through the day without flying into fits of rage or rocking back and forth in the fetal position under the stack of donut racks honestly amazes and inspires me. You people are heroes. Now I completely understand why my Tim Hortons Experience doesn't resemble the touching commercials and actually goes more like this:

I receive what I figure are the coffee and bagel I've asked for. I'm not being presumptuous by believing it's my order when you say "Extra Large Double Double and Plain Bagel with Herb and Garlic Cream Cheese." (PS: Don't judge my Cream Cheese, jerk).

I leave with the Things That Will Bring Me Joy.

I know you didn't stir my coffee, because when I let my unflappable faith in humanity get the better of me and taste it, all I get is the flavour of whatever sort of crack the coffee's laced with that keeps Canadians coming back and honk it out on some poor unsuspecting passerby or shop window. I will swirl my coffee around in the cup in an attempt to stir it while walking toward my next destination. THE LID! DAMN YOU TIM HORTONS EMPLOYEE, YOU FOILED ME AGAIN! The gap in the lid sends molten caffeine spraying up my hand, arm and clothes. Change the writing on the lid from "Caution: HOT" to "Caution - I'm a total fuckwit and couldn't be bothered to put the lid on all the way because I hate my life and hearing you scream from four blocks away as you get scalded by the coffee I didn't stir is the only bit of happiness I ever experience" I realize this is a lot to emboss on a lid, so you'll probably have to switch to a conical cup with a bigger opening at the top. Totally doable.

I collect myself and find a place to sit and devour my bagel. Me eating isn't pretty - I'm like a dog. Devour isn't even an apt word for it. I don't care. I unwrap it. (This next bit has gone a few ways)

WHAT THE HELL?? Since when are there blueberries/seeds/raisins/etc in a plain bagel? If I wanted seeds, I'd have asked for a bagel with seeds. Herb and Garlic Cream Cheese (If you recall - the whole reason for the bagel existing) does not go well with little hunks of fruit.

WHAT THE HELL?? Herb and Garlic Cream Cheese shouldn't be strawberry flavoured. WHAT THE HELL?? It's 6am - I SAW you wheel out the cart of "fresh baked" delights (Ok, I know they're shipped in on freezer trucks, but I'm not above that - I freeze food and warm it all the time). Why does this bagel have the consistency of petrified oak?? I shouldn't need a diamond-tipped chainsaw to get into this thing - it's supposed to be BREAD!! Is this the reason for those rappers having diamonds in their teeth? Have we misjudged them as pretentious? Maybe they just have a penchant for Tim Hortons bagels.

So I figure - hey - they must have confused my order with someone else's - there was, after all, some old fella passed out at one of the tables with food wrappers around him. Maybe they anticipated my arrival and gave it to him before he passed out, and gave me his weird ass fruit bagel with the wrong cream cheese. Honest mistake.

As always I'm hoping for the best next time, Tim Hortons Employee. I believe you can make what I ask for and not have it attack my senses and I just one time. I'm not asking for one of those super-touching Canadiana moments I see on television, all I'm asking for is a coffee and a bagel. I will make it my personal mission to rain good karma on you in exchange for giving me what I ask for, and should I feel adventurous enough to stray from my go-to order, I'll bring a team of experts along to make sure it doesn't send you off the deep end or into a vegetative state from too much over-thought.

Thanks in advance,

Love and Kisses, Me.

Everybody Poops. Then they talk about it. A lot.

*This is from two years ago - 13 August 08. Wow.

There really are websites about EVERYTHING! I've been aware of this for some time... but only out of expectation. If I want to find a product, service, info, or anything, I know I can turn to google and dig up whatever I need.

Since there is excessively more bad news every day, I often turn to weird news and blogs so that I can be informed at my leisure without having to hear about every gunshot or overturned truck because sometimes I just don't want to hear it.

I also don't want to hear about the Olympics because I don't care.
Or miley cyrus, because not only do I not care, I don't care twice because she's two people, and they're both tragic and oddly whorish for 15 year olds.

That's how I stumbled across this...

http://www.poopreport.com/

I'm not joking. It's really there.

Read articles, essays, jokes, or have discussions about poo.

OR you can buy merchandise from the Pootique.. I challenge the world to show me a better name for a store. Every store that sells crap that people don't need should be a pootique.

Who's on my Christmas list this year?? not to spoil the surprise, but I'm definitely shopping there.

This is amazing.

http://www3.theuglydance.com/?v=bxorrybyr6

Set it to "tramp"and "grease"

I'm going to learn to dance from this.

xx

Parenting 101 - OR - Skilldren Are Better Than Children

I'm definitely going to start doling out advice about everything. I'm clearly suited to parenting advice as seen below when I ask a couple out of town friends to come visit on an otherwise boring Thursday night. The conversation gets derailed by talk of babies, as in our circle there have been a ton of new ones. Well not a ton.. I figure at around 7lbs each, there's definitely somewhere in the 50-60lb range of new babies.

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:21:00 AM)
I love babies :d

-Patrick- says: (12:21:40 AM)
me too :D

-Patrick- says: (12:21:43 AM)
*shocker* lol

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:22:59 AM)
Hehehe

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:23:12 AM)
I think u start to love babies more after u have one

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:23:18 AM)
U see what everyone else does lol

-Patrick- says: (12:23:27 AM)
LoL yeah

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:23:49 AM)
We are having a 3sum

-Patrick- says: (12:24:25 AM)
YEAH!! hahaha

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:24:41 AM)
:d

-Patrick- says: (12:24:55 AM)
kidnap ryan and come down here for beer

-Patrick- says: (12:25:09 AM)
i totally just wrote him a get out of work free note

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:25:16 AM)
Oooooo I wish I could but baby just went down

-Patrick- says: (12:25:36 AM)
ryan has a carrier - she can ride with pebbles!

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:25:43 AM)
I don't have the privledge of random kidnaps nemore lmfao

-Patrick- says: (12:25:44 AM)
cozy AND efficient!

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:26:51 AM)
Its true lol

-Patrick- says: (12:27:07 AM)
you need grandparents on speed dial

-Patrick- says: (12:27:20 AM)
"gotta go drink my feelings - here's the baby"

-Patrick- says: (12:27:21 AM)
lol

-Patrick- says: (12:27:22 AM)
jk

-Patrick- says: (12:27:27 AM)
we need a bartender, she has to come

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:27:33 AM)
I wish it was that easy

-Patrick- says: (12:27:45 AM)
LoL i know it's not - at least not in my house

-Patrick- says: (12:27:49 AM)
they need at least a day's notice

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:28:34 AM)
She can't even hold her own bottle yet consistantly how is she going to bartend lmfao

-Patrick- says: (12:29:16 AM)
sweetie you have to train her... skilldren just don't come out of the box fixing drinks and making shoes

-Patrick- says: (12:29:37 AM)
she's what - 4 months already?

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:30:02 AM)
5 lmfao

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:30:11 AM)
Ur killing me over here

-Patrick- says: (12:30:25 AM)
shit - she should already be lighting shooters on fire and spinning bottles... get with the program!!

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:30:57 AM)
I'm not coyote ulgy over here

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:30:59 AM)
Hhaha

-Patrick- says: (12:31:25 AM)
you've at least already got her doing dishes and laundry i hope

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:32:13 AM)
I wish. I can't wait til she can do my chores lol

-Patrick- says: (12:32:20 AM)
soon darling

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:32:54 AM)
:d

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:32:54 AM)
Lol

-Patrick- says: (12:33:06 AM)
and she'll think it's fun if you do it right

-Patrick- says: (12:33:13 AM)
that's how you win

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:33:22 AM)
I'm just gonna pay her off lol

-Patrick- says: (12:33:23 AM)
then you'll want like 4 more

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:33:30 AM)
Lol

-Patrick- says: (12:33:36 AM)
an army of skilldren doing your bidding

-Patrick- says: (12:33:43 AM)
and your errands

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:33:49 AM)
I would have 100 babies if they were all like her

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:33:54 AM)
Hahahaahaha

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:33:57 AM)
Ur too much

-Patrick- says: (12:34:25 AM)
if you go all octo-mom or whatever it is with 100.. i totally want one or 2

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:34:41 AM)
Lol

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:34:48 AM)
Ill be happy with one more

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:35:00 AM)
I've already got 3 step-children

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:35:11 AM)
Its not cheaper by the dozen over here lol

-Patrick- says: (12:35:25 AM)
if you have too many you can put them on freecycle.com and trade them for shit

-Patrick- says: (12:35:40 AM)
if they can do chores you could probably get a nice car or tv

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:35:40 AM)
Lmfao omg

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:35:52 AM)
Hahahaha

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:36:05 AM)
Is that really true or are u pulling my leg lol

-Patrick- says: (12:37:09 AM)
LoL the law isn't really a grey area about selling kids.. it's pretty illegal. human trafficking if i'm
not mistaken. But if you left the kid somewhere, and then got into the car that someone else left the keys in for you...

-Patrick- says: (12:37:13 AM)
just saying it's not impossible

-Patrick- says: (12:37:49 AM)
look at those people who say their kid is gone to visit relatives overseas or to boarding school. they're fucking liars. i bet you all those people have fancy new boats and shit

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:37:53 AM)
I'm seriously dying over here

-Patrick- says: (12:38:27 AM)
;p

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:38:35 AM)
I think I'm gonna bust a kidney

-Patrick- says: (12:38:45 AM)
ooh

-Patrick- says: (12:38:52 AM)
don't spray ryan with pee

~ * (L) QUEEN (L) * ~ says: (12:38:55 AM)
I dunno how ur bored

-Patrick- says: (12:38:57 AM)
unless he drove his mom's car

-Patrick- says: (12:39:03 AM)
it has leather seats.. wipes right off

DISCLAIMER - Don't put babies in pet-carriers with your pet. They'll probably pee on each other and have several years of awkward moments afterward.

xx