Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Why didn't I come up with this list?

Ok, this is only my second day blogging and I already have like 6 posts or something. Contrary to a widely held belief my life is not nearly exciting enough to warrant more than 1 post every day so I've got to stop...but first I wanted to share this link.

So this weekend is our annual college reunion. There are about 10 of us (the number fluxuates every year) who have kept in touch and who regularly congregate at my grandparents cottage on the August long weekend...we've done this every year (except for one) since we were in college. This year will be the smallest group yet...Shanna just had a baby, the first one from our little group to do so.....Edge is in the middle of moving from Halifax to Toronto.....Colin is traipsing across the West Coast...Meesh is getting married the following weekend and E-Blaze has fallen off the face of the Earth...I sure hope they can all make it next year. However, B-Rad, Vassy, Morrow, Karks & I are ready to paint the lake red this weekend. Some of these people I only see once a year...others I make a point of seeing a bit more often....and oddly enough, despite of lack of contact through the year, I still consider them all some of my best friends. I miss them and I think about them all the time and I love that we went through 2 of the most fun years of our lives together. I'm not sure if they think about me as much as I think about them....but I truly cannot wait to see them this weekend. I hope we still get together every summer for a long time...even when we are married and have kids. God, why am I being such an emotional spazz right now?!

The only thing I am sad about is that I am really going to miss being away from this for 4 whole days.

Ok....not, not that outfit - or lack thereof - and not that hat which is the bane of my existance....but the boy I will miss.

Oh yeah...I'll miss these guys too.

I am taking this one with me though. Look at that can I not? Even though the chances of me ending up with dog pee or barf in the car are pretty high. Sorry, that's gross.

I could certainly find something more productive to do on a Sunday afternoon. Weed the garden. Clean the copious amounts of dog hair from the floors. Cook a nice meal. Spend time with family. Instead......

Those are some SHORT shorts

I'm not a photographer by any means...but I carry my camera with me (always) for moments precisely like this one. (I'm known for whipping out my camera and inconspicuously taking shots of some of the interesting folk around this small town. Ok, not inconspicuously at all. Brazenly.)

And this guy is wearing the shortest shorts I have ever seen. And he's dangerously close to showing all of us his 83 year old junk.


Have a sick sense of the last 15 minutes of your day fly by with these websites, two of my favourites.

Or this one:


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

M-Bare-Assed Chronicles

Because I so often am apt to get myself into the most cringe-worthy scenarios one could possibly imagine, I thought why not share these stories - then we can all have a good laugh and admit that I am a complete and utter tool.

I call this tale "Mustachio".

When I was in Ray-Dee-Oh school, in my second year I co-hosted a countdown show on Friday nights called "The Dirty 30". My co-host was named Dylan. One night, for some reason or another I was running late for our 10 p.m. broadcast time. Dylan arrived ahead of me only to find himself locked out of the college campus station. Upon my arrival, he told me how he had been graciously let in, in the knick of time no less, by a testosterone-laden female security guard. Now this particular security guard was well known throughout my college as this unfortunate gal sported a shaved head and more facial hair than my then-teenage brother. Anyways, that fateful evening, going against EVERYTHING our two well meaning professors had futilely tried to teach us, Dylan & I engaged in the most self-absorbed, least entertaining nonsensical 2-hour radio program one could imagine. It was full of inside jokes and random thoughts and nary a thought was given to anyone who might have been listening. Dylan & I embarked on a wild bit about how the security guard who had rescued him and allowed the show to get to air in time was almost like a which I promptly nicknamed "Mustachio" on the air. This bit of course went on way too long and I'm sure served to entertain no one but ourselves. Nonetheless we wrapped up our show and went out for drinks. Later over the course of that weekend I received an email from one of my professors concerning a complaint he had received about Dylan & I's show that prior Friday. Thinking it surely had to be something Dylan said (sorry D), I inquired as to what the complaint had been. As it turns out, many offices and faculty of the college listened to the campus radio station....including the security room. Mustachio had heard the entire show and was understandably hurt and embarassed that we had publicly humiliated her on the air. Nevermind the fact that she may very well have been the only person listening at that particular instant...I was immediately horrified to think of the ramifications of what I had done. How could I be so mean? It was unlike me to want to hurt anyone like that. (I was the same girl who in Grade 6, showed up to my elementary school after having been fitted that very day with HEAD GEAR.....the first pupil in said school to ever be subjected to such cruel & unusal orthodontic practices. It was in between classes so I thought I could fairly easily get to my class and slide into my seat unnoticed. Until two 8th graders - this shcool only went to Grade 8, so these boys were incredibly intimidating to me - looked at me and one of them sneered "What the fuck is wrong with your head? Are you mentally retarded or something?") Anyways, even prior to then I was always very cautious about not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings.

But in my second year of college that is precisely what I had done. I could have gotten over that part of it.....the embassing part came when my teacher insisted my punishment would be that I concoct an apology to recite in-person to Mustachio. And not only that but he would escort me to the security office at a pre-arranged time to do so. My professor and I met at the station one evening that very week and I endured a very silent, awkward walk to the other side of the campus. Mustachio emerged from the security office and while I was careful to avoid looking at the dark smattering of peach fuzz on her upper lip I could not help but noticing that on this day she had also chosen a vibrant shade on hot-pink lipstick. and yes, I'm aware that the term "hot-pink" only has relevance to things from the 80's. But there it was, right on her face. Anyways, I stammered through the most awkward face-to-face apology ever uttered on this earth, while the three of us stood in a circle in the middle of an empty hallway...."Um, I'm very sorry for what I did. I should never have referred to you in that, as Mustachio.....It was very stupid...stupid....I promise to be more responsible in the future."

I am, to this day, one credit short of being an official Radio Broadcasting diploma holder......I chalk that up to karma. And I can live with it.