Annual Gift Man

The slippers I've received this year aren't based on any animal I've ever seen. They are pretty terrible though, like pink fluffy clouds with a flat bottom and topped with a darker pink tie.

Sweet mother of mystery, is Deanna blind?

For Susan

She's mocking me. Mocking with her 200+ posts. In the interest of quantity over quality here is an account of my day:

Slept 'till 7 when Brian got up to go to work (unavoidable I suppose, as I'm sleeping on the couch). Groaned, rolled over and slept until 10:30, head hurt, groaned some more and rolled over until noon.

Pajama time with the sister and books 12-2:30. Dad took us out for a stroll down memory lane. Ate food, watched Mulan. Threw smelly sister in the bath.

I know, you're all hankering for a bit of this exciting life I lead, but you're out of luck.

Christmas is still not over. Presents with the Brian and the sister this evening. I fully expect to receive animal-shaped slippers from Deanna again and not a thing from Brian.

Deanna informed me today that she would rather visit Scotland than Ireland when I get my lazy ass around to saving up some money for this vacation we've been planning for years. Thanks you soul-sucking monkey, get a paper route and pay for your half of this trip! Actually, she's just a regular monkey, but...you know, if I start writing about how much I love Deanna it'll ruin my image as a child-hating singleton who will grow up to own many cats.


That's 103 biatch. Eat my dust.

Post 10, 000 about why Jo is awesome.

Over MSN, about why our friend always talks to us both on MSN at the same time:

"He wants big lady love, on the double."

It's true love folks. Or fake love. I'm down with either right now. Any takers? Wow, that degenerated quickly. I'll go now.

"Tater Tots support the facist machine."

I just watched two straight hours of Video on Trial. Admittedly Muchmusic is on an MTV-induced/esque slide with the current schlocky (are you sure it's not a word?) line up of programming but I LOVE Video on Trial. Making fun of celebrities? I'm down. I mean, I feel a little dirty after watching it but then I remind myself that I'm in university and thus, am a pseudo-intellectual. And that makes everything okay.

Lesson: It's great to judge people, as long as people aren't me.

Also? Last post was number 100. Weird. 100 entries of self-indulgent schlock.

Hermits? They don't have it that bad.

Home from the grandparents, however briefly, to pick up the little sister as I am apparently in charge of her for the next two weeks. Hoo-ray.

Having spent 48 hours in the company of my family, I'm contemplating a hermitical lifestyle. Why hang around people that clearly don't like me or anything I have to say and, as such, have decided it is their responsibility to make my life miserable? There were high points, I will admit that. My cousin Jenn was a bright spot in the gloom and my dad was delightful.

I know, everyone has this same family crap at Christmas but the past week has been peppered with family gatherings and it hasn't been even twenty-four hours since I was listening to my younger cousins scream at each other EVERY FIVE MINUTES. I feel like it's time for a rant.

The past week has consisted of deflecting offers of alcohol from drunk relatives...No Uncle Harry, I don't want to do shooters with you and defending academic choices and my hobbies to people who "just can't get into reading" SORRY I'M NOT ILLITERATE FUCKWAD. Everyone has something to say about my history degree as well. "No Brian, I'm not sure what I'm doing after university right now, thanks for your EXTREMELY helpful recomendations. I'm definitely going to draw a graph to map my goals and how to get there." WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

I NEVER want to have another Christmas day like I did yesterday. Kids fighting, adults tense, me bored and wanting to escape at the first possible moment and wondering what the hell I'm doing there. But the real beauty of Christmas is that it comes ever year and I know I'm going to be stuck in exactly the same houses with the same ignorant, judgemental people next year.

End rant.

The good news is I have a few hours to myself now. I don't have to talk to anyone and can gorge myself on the internet. Necessary to restore the sanity.

"The Talk"

I stumbled across a website a while back that was designed to fill the (huge) holes created by the (incredibly) insufficient sex education system in the United States. No, I was not searching for porn at the time. Even I have standards. No Porn at Brian's. NPaB. That's my general policy.

Anyway, the website is geared toward teens and late pre-teens and was chock full of interesting articles. Certainly more useful and in depth than anything that could be found in the YM magazine of my youth. Yes, I bought them, shut up. A lot.

I suppose it's too early to hand Deanna over to a website like that and I think Brian would be horrified if he walked into the office one day and found Deanna reading a detailed article about the history of the construct of virginity or something along those lines. I wonder if it's ever really appropriate to tell a child to go learn about sex on a website. Although that will inevitably take place when the teen in question learns of the magical relationship between the internet and porn.

I do tend to think that a child would be better served by an in-depth conversation with a parent/authority figure. I had the period/sex talk with Deanna quite a while ago. Brian, I'm fairly certain, will be useless in that department so I stepped up. It scarred me for life. I sounded like an idiot who had no knowledge of sex past the parts involved and the general motion of the ocean, as it were. Ultra ridiculous considering that I actually have a rather extensive knowledge of sex.

I REALLY think the whole thing would have gone more smoothly if I'd been answering questions rather than delivering a monologue. As it was, all the information I'd ever heard about talking to children about sex was rolling through my head and none of it came out coherently. For instance, you're supposed to label all the parts correctly. The Vagina, thusly does not get called the 'hoo-haw' or 'lady garden' or anything ridiculous like that.

That's pretty straightforward but I'm pretty sure I said some contradictory things anyway as I was attempting to instill in her the knowledge that sex is okay, excellent really and yet, definitely not something should she be thinking about anytime soon. Deanna was completely uninterested and unimpressed and spent a great deal of the time looking at me like I'd grown another head. She'd already heard most of it anyway, presumably from someone that was more eloquent than I.

Perhaps my difficulty with the sex talk can be traced to the fact that I BLOW at unrehearsed public presentations. Yeah, we'll assume that.

My first mistake? Talking about stuff.

I made the mistake of bringing up the topic of homosexuality with my dad in the car today. In what I thought would be a fairly amusing and innocuous anecdote, I told my dad about the first cast party we had at our house in which a great deal of kissing was had. I guess I lost my mind or something because I should have known that my dad can't seem to let the topic of homosexuality come up without giving me his two cents, describing how two women are attractive to him but two men are the exact opposite. He always offers me informal 'polling data', how most of the people he talks to feel the same way he does.

Thanks Dad, got it. You're a Super Hetero. No penis for you!

I guess always think that he should have more compassion/understanding/etc. because his brother was gay but I guess it never really works out that way. Kevin was okay but he's the special case, according to my dad, because he didn't 'flaunt' himself. WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? Are you saying that Uncle Kevin was 'okay' because he didn't feel comfortable enough to bring any of his partners home to spend time with his family? Not okay, dad. That's horrifying.

Conversations like this inevitably end in an argument or at the, least heated tension because I feel like I just can't let him say these things. These INCREDIBLY ingnorant things. So I try to correct him but it's like talking to a pile of bricks. And he always pulls the "you just like to be contrary card."

Ugh. Rant good. If you'll excuse me, I'll be huddled under my blanket with a cat in my lap and a cup of hot cocoa, railing against injustice (and cramps).

Now that we're men we change our underwear.

Deanna is the best. 11 year olds are awesome.

Deanna: "You know that bracelet I got last night? It was made in Korea. Isn't that cool?"
Me: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...you love sweatshop labour and multinational corporations.
Deanna: I knew all your book-learnin' was a mistake.

So the last two lines are entirely fictional but that is the reaction that Deanna's statement provoked in my head.

Family Christmas party last night. It was nice to see my cousins, if a little boring at times. Patrick certainly has become a hairy bastard. I kept saying "you would" to my cousin Gillian, as I'm apt to, and she was befuddled by it. Another Guelphism that nearly slipped out: my cousin was telling me about how her cat that she's had forever had to be put down recently and I had to stop myself from saying "that's total balls." Not that I wasn't completely sympathetic as one might imagine...in Guelph that IS an expression of sympathy and empathy.

Still, things are goodly. Home Alone is on every 2.3 seconds. Snoopy is a delight. Deanna and I are hanging out in our pj's and playing with this hook-a-rug thing she got last night. (Possibly the sexiest sentence I've ever written). Oh man, that takes me back. Unsurprisingly, I now wish I had one of my own.

A Festive Picture.

All right. This semester is officially over. Buh! Seeing the parental unit today. huzzah!

Just wanted to wish everyone a great holiday. Sleep, Eat, be merry and try not to kill any of your relatives.

Why this picture you ask? Well, it IS vaguely festive. Evan certain looks like he's in a celebratory mood. AND it makes me giggle.

Also, as neither of us will be in Guelph I think Evan will find it difficult to murder me for posting this. 

I'm a sap.

So the lovely Subu and I went to see Pride and Prejudice this evening. Apart from the INCREDIBLY cheeseball ending, it was perfection in an Austen movie. As Susan so aptly put it, we love love. The thing about an Austen movie is that it's all about eyes and significant looks and gestures. The protagonists kiss once in the entire movie. And I'm still sitting there all GUH. Just look at them. Who are you to resist? The whole thing made me ridiculously giddy.

I even like sappy music. I'm listening to Everything I do by Bryan Adams right now and I like it. Not ironically. And that is not an anomaly friends. I won't elaborate because I'd like to at least maintain the illusion of street cred.

Also, HUGE girl boner for the guy that played Mr. Darcy. Hotter than Colin Firth. Hotter than Barb's red hair.

I live like a hermit in my own head.

Crikey! That certainly is a horrible picture of myself. Bleck. I'm definitely not posting a picture of myself again. For a week. Until tomorrow. Okay, maybe later today.

No, I'm not sleeping. I suppose you, perceptive reader, may have guessed that from the blogging and all. Shut up. I was going to go to bed and then I let the whole cat-meowing thing get to me and I went outside and held it like the incompetent and occasionally soft-hearted boob that I am. Emphasis on the boob. Taking serious cat action tomorrow if it hasn't returned to its home.

Last exam tomorrow. End to the shittiest semester of my life. Can't bring myself to care about the exam. I'm already thinking ahead. I'm heading home wednesday or thursday and I can't wait to do/receive/participate in/facillitate the following things:
1) hug my grandma and grandpa
2) play with my own guilt-free cat
3) eat real meals that have little (if anything) to do with cream cheese
4) presents! for me! and others! and the inevitable credit card debt I face because I really can't not buy people presents, despite what my grandmother says.
5) clean laundry
6) read excellent books until my eyes fall out
7) catch up with everyone that I haven't seen in months or weeks, whatever.
8) more hugs!
9) mass orgy involving me and the entire cast of Scrubs with the exception of Dr. Kelso (all right, that's more of a mental to-do)

I think (know) I lost my mind a little this semester. Hoping some time in not-Guelph helps restore my (admittedly precarious) mental balance.

I have a funny face.

I was going to try to write a blog without a picture, really I was. What can I say? I'm weak.

We went to Taylor's Non-Denominational Holiday Bash this evening and ate many a delicious food. It was a potluck but because I'm inherently lazy and occasionally unimaginative (and inherently inherent, according to Barb) I brought a bag of salad with me. C'est la Vie.

You should all know that Taylor makes excellent gingerbread cookies. Possibly the best in the entire world. I suppose, strictly on principle, I should sample gingerbread cookies from around the globe to conclusively and scientifically prove that Taylor's are simply the best. Not that I would enjoy it or anything.

Also, Taylor and James are awesome and asked me to be their stage manager for the Frost Week one acts. Yay! I'm sure I'll be riddled with anxiety at some date in the near future about letting everyone down in a spectacular fashion ('cause that's the way I roll) but right now I'm simply relishing.

Relish? Weird that that means both enjoyment and a pickle-based condiment. Just sayin'.

It's just me in the house right now. I know I should be out destroying brain cells with vodka as is my duty as a university student but in my warm socks, listening to Bobby Darin, I just can't bring myself to care.

Bonsoir mon petite fromages.

Hey! You like me a little bit...and...so..do you sweetcakes. Want a little sugar from daddy?

Oh Dr. Cox. Oh Scrubs. A revelation!

So I really shouldn't be allowed near my blog after a certain time at night. Things? Things don't suck. World War II is over. Both the conflict and the class! Two reasons to rejoice. Now there's nothing but dicking around until about 9 pm monday night when I decide that I don't want to fail my political geography course.

It's my dad's birthday today, he's 52 but he's one of those people that never seems to age in my mind. He's the same now as he was when he was 40. I don't know if that's the reality or if that's just a product of me wanting him to stay the same, comfortingly familiar. There are a lot of people in my life that seem ageless. No matter how tall he gets or how much facial hair he grows, I'll always think of my cousin Patrick skipping around the cottage in a way that can only be called gazelle-esque.

Mmm...pointless nostalgia.

For Evan, because he demanded it.

"Bitch please!" 

Posting Pictures? Yeah, it's addictive.

It occurs to me that I never posted any pictures from Stye of the Eye here. It seems that all I can post now is meaningless drivel/pictures.

So....here's some more of the same.

That's everyone in costume with the sexiest stage manager and director on the end. Brilliant backdrop? Painted by Jo (the brilliant stuff) and Toni B. Jealous? Want in our next production? I just happen to have a casting couch right here.

Slug Milhouse: I don't know how we'll reproduce, but we'll have a great time figuring it out!







http://www.duffzone.co.uk/framegrab_script.php?img=gabf16/gabf16-209.jpg

The searing kiss of hot lead; how I missed you.

Having finished my Celtic Britain and Ireland class, successfully, I have decided to pass on my knowledge to the masses. Luckily for you I either a) didn't learn much or b) am a genuis not unlike Einstein and have summed up the course in a Simpsons quote:

Groundskeeper Willie: It won't last. Brothers and sisters are natural enemies. Like Englishmen and Scots! Or Welshmen and Scots! Or Japanese and Scots! Or Scots and other Scots! Damn Scots! They ruined Scotland!
Principal Skinner: You Scots sure are a contentious people.
Groundskeeper Willie: You just made an enemy for life!

I win at life.

Hotness: A Story In Pictures

These are posted in no particular chronological order. Posted for your viewing pleasure and so that everyone can view the awesomosity of 10 Stanley in one place. Or two places really, 'cause Subu posted a bunch of pictures to her blog. Check there for more hottness.

The Theme of the Party? Perhaps. A motif at the very least. 

Amanda? Yeah, she's awesome. I'm awesome too. Collectively, we are very awesome. 

What is that you say? Why yes, the camera DID melt after this photo was taken.

What a cheeky monkey. 

Barb and I are so hot that we've recently become THE spokespeople for Cheerios. 

"His wang was this long." Yes I am a child.

Carly and Jamie? Yep, they're cute. Feel free to call Jamie Princess Banana Hammock, I know I do. 

Scandal!

James is a thinker. And a beer drinker. I told him to look like a professor and he didn't do too badly. However, the can of Strongbow in his hand may detract from the overall air of professor-ness.

 

They are a bucket of cute. A pile of muffins, if you will.

Why am I confused in so many pictures? It's not like I don't know what's coming. At least Susan and Jamie look Hott. That second T was entirely intentional.

Yanina and Yoni, together forever.

Me and Taylor are BFF, I don't care what you say.

Barb and I tend to go to the local 24 hour convenience store during our parties for snackeroos. The off-centreness of this photog is indicative of my state of inebriation. Susan says it is also indicative of our relationship. Does she mean that our relationship is all about me touching Barb from behind? In the behind? What can I say? Susan knows her stuff.

Alicia and I are dancing to Young Hearts Run Free from the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack. I know you wish you were as cool as we are, but you are not.

We are two hot ladies. You wish you were the meat in this sandwich.

Things that are awesome:

Jowie's paint picture of our night at the Albion. Go there quickly and fall in love or you will be deader to me than Wilt Chamberlain.