Friday, May 30, 2008

Reason #307, Why I'm Such a Nerd

Sooooooo excited about this.

IMDb file on it here.

Come on...can the guys at least get behind me on this one? No? Well, can we all at least agree that it will be more enjoyable then the Sex and the City flick?

Right, knew I could get you on that one. And knowing is half the battle!

;) Ms.I

Quote of the Moment: "Repetition can be the enemy of fun, unless of course you're doing shots or playing Mario Kart Wii."
Soundtrack of the Moment: GI Joe Theme (Ha. Seriously, how hilarious is that video?!)
Movie/TV Quote: G.I. Jane: "I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A bird will fall frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself."

PS=> So, the way that Blogger wraps text makes it appear as though I'm suggesting that GI Joe will be better than "the Sex." Let me please clarify that, no matter how wonderful, GI Joe will in no way come close to "the Sex." Thanks for your time, let's move along.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Just Can’t Get You Outta My Head

Please explain to me why I’ve become such a bobblehead lately? I mean, REALLY, what the heck is up with me?! Last time I checked, I was not boy crazy. I mean, I don’t scream at hot boys in bands. I’ve never tried to get with a football player (which, trust me, for a Texas girl, is kinda like a sacrilege).

I am comfortable around guys. And, really and truly, most of the time I would rather be in a group of guys than a group of girls. Going back just bit in my family tree, I’ve got my brother, my dad, grandfather, ten uncles, and eight male first-cousins. My major female influence—mommy dearest—is girlie, but plays most sports better than any of the men I know her age. Nailor is mostly male…as is the rest of the sheet metal/HVAC industry. I can’t help it, I’m used to being “one of the guys.”

I’m just not good with the liking of said boys. Usually, it goes one of two ways. The first is easier for me. It’s the silly crushy-ness that happened with BFKP. Crushes are all about attraction. It’s not like you’re looking at this person thinking, “oh, great, here’s awesome relationship potential.” It’s more like, “Man, there are waaaaay too many things I want to do to that man that are sooo not acceptable for a PG-13 (A14, for us Canucks) setting.”

The other side of that…the side that makes me really, super-duper nervous…is the sudden realization that one of the guys you’ve been hanging with sudden seems like someone you need to have in your life on a deeper level. Someone, for lack of a less-lame way to say it, you start to think you’d like to wake up with every morning.

Why this had to happen to me, now of all times…when I’m already planning on completely regrouping my life, is beyond me. I mean…WTF, really? Do I really need something else? And, even more, do I really need something else that occupies my mind so completely that I kinda forget all the other shit I’ve been trying to get done?

Apparently.

Of course, whatever I might want, there’s more than just me in charge of this decision. And that’s probably what makes all of this so forward in my mind. My OCD has kicked up, and now it’s nothing but desperately fixated on the object of my affections. I’m not really in control…so I obsess about it, as an attempt to control it.

Damn it. Blah…lalalalala…Right, moving on.

So, in addition to the above, it seems I have to deal with retarded drivers. The 401 is notoriously an awful road to drive. Wikipedia says, “The 401 is one of the world's busiest highways.” They do not lie. I’ve had people from L.A. tell me that it’s worse than the 101. Anyone who’s driven this stretch of parking lot in the city of angels knows what a big deal that is. A big issue, I feel, is that people really just don’t know how to drive.

No, I’m serious.

Take this morning, for instance. I’m coasting along at a spry 10 to 15 km/h (about 6 to 9 mph, for the rest of you). All four lanes I need to cross are packed and moving likewise. I have my blinker on, plus I’m hanging half out the window so people can see me. In the end, I have to weasel my way in EVERY SINGLE TIME. Seriously? Wtf, people? One guy even honked at me. I turned around and was like, “Dude, we’re stopped, what does it matter? Where you going that one car length matters?! Especially since I’m getting on the Express anyway, so you’ll only have to look at my ass for another 30 seconds.”

Damn it, people. It’s enough to make a girl whish for a gun rack.

;) But I digress.

Quote of the Moment: “If you would just take the time to grow-up, and forget your little hang-ups, you’d see how perfect he’d be fore you.”
Soundtrack of the Moment: RENT, Out Tonight
TV/Movie Quote: Sex in the City(The TV Show): “You men have no idea what we're dealing with down there. Teeth placement, and jaw stress, and suction, and gag reflex, and all the while bobbing up and down, moaning and trying to breathe through our noses. Easy? Honey, they don't call it a job for nothin'.”

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Sleeping With the Fishies

Everyone who knows me, also knows that there is one, completely undeniable fact about me: I love animals. With the exception of that one insect that shall not be named, but that grows to the size of large rats in the south (and in NYC, I’m told), I pretty much have affection for all animals. I don’t scream at spiders. Find field mice kinda cute. Huge dogs get the same (often times witless, all things considered) love as their tea-cup counterparts. Horses are like heaven. Rabbits, frogs, gerbils, snakes…all of them have a piece of my total devotion.

Cats, unfortunately, cause me to experience anaphylaxis, but I still appreciate their beauty and sphinx-like behavior. I also sometimes try to touch them…even though I swell up like a fat kid after eating pounds of salted butter…just because it’s so hard for me not to.

I’m not allowed to have animals where I’m living now…except fish. So…after dealing with work, fighting with high levels of anxiety, and doing a lot of research; I finally decided to get myself a fish tank.

I decided on a planted tank for a few different reasons. For one, there’s a whole symbiotic thing with plants consuming CO2 and producing oxygen…and the fish consuming oxygen and expelling CO2. But, more than that even, a lot of the fishes’ waste products help the plants grow healthy. (And with the plants dealing with a portion of the waste…the tank stays cleaner. Yea for less tank cleaning!) Also, the plants are pretty, and their movement adds a lot to the tank. Makes the fishies happier too, ‘cuz they get lots of places to hide out.

The tank ran for about two weeks with nothing but the plants, gravel, and add-ons. (The snails quickly became rulers of the landscape.) After two weeks, I added a male and female Zebra Danio. Those two are the aquatic example of ADHD. They literally play tag with one another. I’ve tried to take pictures of them about a million times, and all I ever get is a streak of zebra stripes, or a big, fuzzy blur. Their names, btw, are Mr. & Mrs. Stripy Pants.

After having them for a week (while I tested the water every other day), nothing seemed to be spiking or freaking out at all, so I went to the store to pick up a moss ball, and a couple cherry shrimp. Both of these things made me very happy, because neither species is without its quirks.

The moss ball, while being technically a plant, is actually tight-knit algae that floats around, moving up and down depending on its need for light. It’s a really deep green, which is nice, because the majority of water plants are notsomuch of the dark green as a chartreuse. It also collects a crapload of…well, crap.

The cherry shrimp (I have since added another, giving me three) are fun because they change colour depending on how happy/stressed they are. When all is well, they’re a lovely, deep red, full of freckles and solid splashes of colour. When the opposite is true, they go a translucent clear/white. I’m happy to report that my cherries are almost always a lively red. I can’t tell them apart, and the one that came in loaded with her neon green eggs has since (I think) dropped them. I use to call her “the Mamma,” but now they all just seem to be the same. They’re fun to watch, their little legs move a mile a minute, and they scarf down food like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

Fast forward slightly. I added two ghost shrimp to help out with the cleaning of the tank, and because it’s cool to have see-through animals. One has already kicked the bucket (more on that, in a second), but the other one is doing much of the same antics as the other cherries. I’ve since learned that ghost shrimp are rarely very healthy animals, so I’m not too sure whether I would get any more…even though they are so cheep.

So…to re-group, I have two danios, two ghost shrimp, three cherry shrimp, lots of plants, some Malaysian trumpet snails. (Must be nice to be able to get your freak on with yourself. Um…er not.)

I’m super into Loaches of the bizarre variety, and my tank was starting to look a little gross, so I picked up a Hillstream Loach, and a couple Kuhli Loaches. (I asked for two, but ended up with four; only paid for two, and I’m happy now that I have the extras as they seem to like to hang out together.

The Hillstream looks like a ray to me, but I rarely see anything but it’s underbelly (as its usually stuck to the glass like this). This isn’t as boring as I might have thought, because the organ functions are visible in that way. The heart beat fascinates me. (You can sort of see its little oval heart in the picture, almost center and slightly metallic.) It’s a very peaceful little fish, and has totally done its job making sure that the sides of my tank sparkle. I call him RayMan.

The Kuhli’s are cool, because they’re very eel-like. Their bodies are long and skinny, and they shimmy like snakes when they swim around. Mostly they like hiding under stuff and hanging around. (Literally. My first week with these guys, I constantly thought they were dead. One would be hanging over a plant sort of like a limp snake in a tree, I’d go to take it out of the tank, and it would freak out, swim around the tank like a freaken headless chicken, then scurry under some gravel and peak its little head up and glare at me like, ‘Bitch!”) They are collectively known as “the Freaks.”

Finally, with my snail population starting to replicate out of control, I obtained a dwarf puffer fish. (They eat snails.) I read a lot of mixed reviews on these little guys. Some people said they attacked everything in their tanks, while others had them in with shrimp, fish, frogs, and other riffraff without problem. I figured I’d try one out, and see how it goes.

Now, the day I put in the puffer (Name TBA), I had to rush off to a baby shower for my favorite work preggo. When I got home, I had a dead ghost shrimp. (It was so weird, because it was the color of milk, with an orange face. I’d like to look into the chemical changes that caused the reaction, but not enough to do it now, for the blog.) One could use reasonable deduction to determine that the puffer ate my shrimp, and yet, I’m not too sure I should be holding the guy responsible. I mean, he still seemed to have all his legs…there was no obvious chunk missing out of him…if the puffer did try to eat him, you’d think the shrimp would be, you know, eaten a bit more. Also, none of the other shrimp have been touched, and I’ve personally seen some of the cherry’s waving their little antennas close enough to him that—if I were the puffer—I’d bite them just to get the damn things out of my face. In the words of the immortal Kuzco, “No touchy.”

In a few weeks, if all is still well, I plan to add a male/female pair of Dwarf Gourami’s. At that point, the tank will be done.
I’d like to post a bunch of pictures, but none of them are coming out very clearly. I’ll try to take some more soon…

Okay all, that’s it for now.

Love ya!
Ms. I

Quote of the Moment:
[after a slide/tackle into second base (and the woman covering second base)]

Ms. I: “Ugh, my face. I think I used it to stop sliding. I’m going to have a nice bruise tomorrow.”
BILL: “Just tell ‘em you forgot the safety word.”
Soundtrack of the Moment: Miley Cyrus, See You Again
TV/Movie Quote: Finding Nemo: “I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine and he shall be my Squishy. Come on, Squishy Come on, little Squishy.”

Monday, May 26, 2008

Pretty is as Pretty Does

[Editor’s note: this Blog is not about the fishies, as promised. Hopefully next time. Try to contain your disappointment.]

Can we talk for a minute about the different classifications of a pleasing appearance?

It’s something I think about every now and again. I mean, I don’t think I’m completely unfortunate looking, but I don’t think I’m anything above average either. It always really surprises me when someone finds me attractive.

Now, wait a sec, before you jump on me for my lack of confidence. This isn’t exactly what you think it is. I’m used to being called “cute,” just not anything else.

Cute is one of those words that seems to be more a state of being than an actual state of appearance. I mean, cute kinda signifies small, short, and not ugly. Bunnies are cute, fawns are cute, etc. No one in their right mind would ever call…say…Angelina Jolie “cute.”

Pretty, to me, is more of a face/hair thing, like the opposite of a “butter face.” Someone with a less than spectacular body can be pretty, if he/she is rocking the hair and has a nicely proportioned face. Pretty is also a little bit old-fashioned, IMHO, something the friends of my grandparents like to call me…but only occasionally comes out of the mouths of people my own age.

Beautiful has a lot of different definitions. For one, it’s kind of pretty to the extreme. It works for both sexes, and it sometimes falls into the realm of love. Meaning simply that, often times, when you’re falling for a person he/she seems to get more and more beautiful as you spend more and more time with him/her. Beautiful also deals with art…and creation. “Beautiful painting”… “beautiful sunset”…you get the idea. There’s always an opinion level to beauty—eye of the beholder, and all the rest—but also the idea that inner beauty can sometimes overcome external plainness.

Hot/sexy/smoking usually is the opposite of pretty. It’s more about body measurements then facial structure. A truly “total package” girl/guy could be called this as well, but I’ve seen a lot of chicks get called hot just because they were thin and had big boobs and a nice ass.

Attractive, to me, is basically anyone who seems to attract the majority of people they come in contact with. Brad Pitt and Johnny Depp are attractive, and they really don’t fall under any of the other categories. The thing about attractive is, just because you can look at a person and say, “Yeah, he/she’s attractive,” doesn’t mean that you’re necessarily attracted to them.
Which leads me back to the beginning… I’m always surprised when people are attracted to me. It’s bad, in that every time I like someone, I get all nervous wondering whether or not I have a chance. (Not that looks are everything, but they are something.) On the other hand, it’s kind of lovely, because—every time it happens—it feels a little bit like Christmas morning.

For instance, when I was sitting, chatting with BILL…about A giving me shit about my customers not liking me so much as liking to look at me…and BILL smiled at me and said, “Well, yeah. You can’t help what you got.” I felt like someone had just handed me a present, and I think that might have been the moment that I went from liking BILL, to LIKE liking BILL.

And about BILL…

We hung out with his bro and a few of his brother’s friends down at the racetrack (dragtrack?) yesterday. It was a great day of just hanging out with a bunch of boys. There was silliness, drinking, and just general good-time camaraderie. Besides a mild sunburn, I couldn’t have asked for a better time. Unfortunately, (or fortunately, I guess…depending on your prospective) I’m becoming more and more infatuated with him. We chatted a lot about friendships and relationships.

I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see…

Quote of the Moment:
BILL’s Bro: “Damn it! Just put it in the hole!”
Ms. I: “That’s what she said.”
(Masse laughing)
Ms.I: “I’m sorry…(giggling).”
BILL’s Bro: “I just set that one up perfectly, didn’t I?”
Ms. I: “…the door just opened, and I just had to…”
BILL’s Bro: “Oh, no, you totally had to say it. I would have hit you, had you not.”

Soundtrack of the Moment: Britney Spears, Get Naked
TV/Movie Quote: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
Elsa: It's perfectly obvious where the pages are. He's given them to Marcus Brody.
Professor Henry Jones: Marcus? You didn't drag poor Marcus along did you? He's not up to the challenge.
Walter Donovan: He sticks out like a sore thumb. We'll find him.
Indiana Jones: The hell you will. He's got a two day head start on you, which is more than he needs. Brody's got friends in every town and village from here to the Sudan, he speaks a dozen languages, knows every local custom, he'll blend in, disappear, you'll never see him again. With any luck, he's got the grail already.
[Cut to middle of fair in the Middle East, Marcus Brody wearing bright suit and white hat, sticking out like sore thumb]
Marcus Brody: Uh…Is there anyone here who speaks English? Or maybe even ancient Greek?

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

This, That, and the Other

Okay. I have loads to tell and I have no idea how to rein it all in, so this may be all jumbley and rambling and just generally a little all over the place and hard to follow.

So: fair warning, in advance.

First and foremost, I turned in my resignation at Nailor. It was a really, really hard thing for me to do…so much so that it’s taken me almost 2 years to finally make the decision stick. I’m still going to be there for awhile, probably for most—if not all—of the summer.

Already I feel myself calming down…as if a lot of the anxiety I’ve had building up inside of me has dissipated with “the end” looming near. As if—even though this next little while is not going to be easy—I now have the open opportunity of doing what I want to with my life, as opposed to following the cycle of needing money to do things…working for money…then not being able to do things because of work.

Of course, part of my anti-anxiety could be because of the fishies. :D

That’s right boys and girls, I’m currently keeping a planted tank at my house. (Planted just meaning that there are real, live plants growing in it as opposed to—you know—not.) I kinda have convinced myself that it’s a magical fish tank. No, seriously. Not only can I feel my heart physically slowing down awhile I’m staring at it; I also seem to lose huge gaps of time while doing so. I mean, it’ll be 7…then all of a sudden I look up at the clock and it’s almost 7:30. I feel like I’ve barely blinked, let alone stared into a fishtank for almost a half hour. I plan to do a blog with pics next time.

Try and contain your excitement.

Lately I’ve found myself in this peculiar situation. Not only does this situation annoy me, but it makes me feel like both an idiot, and a mean girl. And really, if there is anything worse than an idiot, it’s a mean idiot.

So what’s the deal, you ask?

Alright, well, Cin’s been trying to set me up with this guy for awhile. “Awhile” here actually meaning “approximately three years.” This guy (hmm, do we need an acronym? I do believe we do…I shall dub him BILL, for Boy I Like Like) and I have hung out a half a dozen times or so…some being business events…some being social ones involving Cin and the crew. I’ve always liked the guy…in a “hey, let’s invite [BILL] over for drinks” kind of way. I liked hanging out with him…I found it easy to talk to him. And yet, it never really clicked over for me. Given, I often saw him while dating other people, and I tend to be a fairly faithful person (even more so while sober). Regardless, I had nothing against him, and I often had to remind Cin, “It’s not that I don’t like him…I do, he’s fun to be around. I just don’t—you know—LIKE him. Yet, now, all of a sudden, I find myself like, liking him. How inconvenient.

This situation is compounded not only by the obvious “I told you so” that I completely deserve, but by the fact that I’m not entirely sure he like, likes me. Which sucks, for a multitude of reasons, but for which I really kind of earned. Serves me right for being all, well, ME about the whole thing.

Still…doesn’t stop me from wanting to actually get something started. And it sucks even worse, because now I’m really scared of turning him off completely—which would have me missing out on a great friendship, never mind any other possibilities. This is me, scared to try anything, because I don’t want to lose what I already have…but I still want more. I think there could be more out there. We are so similar, BILL and I, in so many different ways. The family work thing…the traveling, schooling…are manners and upbringing. So…yeah, basically I think I’m kinda effed, no matter how you slice it.

Well, back to things of the fantastic variety, I’ve recently had several run-ins with Rock Band. I find myself enjoying it more, each time I do it. I’ve tried the drumming, but mostly I just do the singing because that’s my thing. Lowest score so far on the mike? 95%! I totally rock! \m/

Another fun thing, somewhat involving percentages: I do believe I saw Ellen Page at the Mall the other day. About 92% sure, actually. I literally was about half-a-heartbeat from running over and telling her my extreme love of all things Juno, Canadian, and brunette. (She’s also a February 20s baby. Meaning, of course, that she was born somewhere between 2/20 and 2/29, just like yours truly.) Thankfully, I got myself under control in time to think: 1. Perhaps Ellen Page might not desire me jumping up and down in front of her and screaming in the high-pitch tones usually reserved for dog whistles. 2. Ellen Page is suuuuuper thin. I mean, clearly, she’s an actress, but, after seeing her in nothing but gym clothes in Smart People, I’m almost thinking she might be on that “no eating” diet. 3. She was in a group of no less than four equally pretty, but alarmingly grumpy looking females. I’ll admit it, I was scared of getting clawed—whether or not I was right.

Okay folks, I think that’s all for tonight. Love!

Quote of the Moment: “When I first read: ‘besides the colouring, he's waaaay "off-type" for me’ I thought you meant coloring, like with crayons, in a coloring book. I was like, well that's an odd similarity between all the guys you've dated.”
Soundtrack of the Moment: Paramore, Let the Flames Begin
TV/Movie Quote: Family Guy: “Anyone caught saying 'irregardless,' 'all of the sudden,' or 'a whole nother,' shall report to a work camp!”

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Chick Flicks

First of all, can I please express my loathing of the film genre that is the “chick flick”(we’ll call them CF for the remainder of this post)? Truth be told, when I do see a CF, it’s at the request of either my mother, or A.

Last night I saw Just Friends. It’s funny, but not in the ways I think it meant to be. For one, I was a fatty…or, at least…I thought I was, so…yeah. Second? Um, hi? Paging Britney Spears much? And third…I guess we come to the whole…can boys and girls be friends issue…

My thoughts on the thing? Well, they can, but…

In order to be totally and completely, “just friends” there has to be:
1. Zero sexual attraction, by both parties (excepting, of course, in the few cases where both parties are okay with sex without commitment).
2. A general sense of loyalty to one another.
3. Perhaps a degree of distance between the two?

Right…now can we move on to my own issues?

FANTASTIC! Because what is this blog if not my own little rambling place?

I’ve slept with friends before…with friends I’ve never intended developing a relationship with. It was…an itch to scratch, shall we say? An…uh…solution to a temporary situation. But anything permanent? That’s a negatory, Ghostrider. :p

Yes, I’m a boy when it comes to sex, deal with it!

And love! Shall we dare discuss love? No, perhaps not. Perhaps the very insistence of love in life…especially my life, is just too much to contemplate at all…

In other news…I’m leaving Nailor. It was not a light or easy decision, but it was something I had to do. The Universities here have accepted two years of my work, leaving me with no more than two years left to complete. So what excuse do I have, really, not to complete them?

As promised, my mother finally finished my (dare I say “first novel”?) little story, As They Spy On Us…more colloquially known as Atsou. (At-Sue-Uh—even though the “Uh” should really be “Ooo,” but I don't say it that way...) With Lauren’s comments, among other issues, I kinda figured I had to rework the ending to make it believable. After all, I did the last 150 pages in less than a week. But, I shouldn’t have been surprised that my mother found no need in dealing with the believability of such a thing.

The conversation verbatim went like this:
Ms.I: Nailor Industries.*
Mom: Why is she not mad at Lucas?!?
Ms.I: Um…excuse me?
Mom: She should be more mad at Lucas.
Ms.I: What? Oh! Did you finish it?
Mom: I started reading last night around 9:30. I meant to just finish one more chapter…but then the next one came and I started to tell myself “just one more,” and then I was done.
Ms.I: Well, that’s good, at least it kept your attention. How—
Mom: Why is Manhattan not more upset at Lucas for **?!
Ms.I: Ha! Really? Well, after all he’s put up with, with her, I kinda didn’t think…
Mom: And what kind of name is LONDON***?! Ms.I: Well, it’s in keeping with the whole “favorite” city theme…You know, Manattan…London…
Mom: Right, but London?
Ms.I: Just like Tyranny**** is named after her mother’s last mission, London is named after his parents’ favorite city.
Mom: Well, I think it’s…
Ms.I: Thank you for the Lucas thing, that’s good feedback for me…different from what I already have. I’ll think about it.

*This is pretty much how I always answer my phone. Not because I want to hid my identity from people, but because I have a “back-up” phone…which essentially means that if the front switchboard gets too crowded, the call will ring to my desk.
**Edited (rather lamely) to maintain the integrity of the story.
***Name of my main character’s son.
****Name of my main character’s daughter.

Quote of the Moment: “Try not to make him fall in love with you. I know it's difficult, but do your best…I'm just saying, you have a way of being infatuating.”
Soundtrack of the Moment: Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man
TV/Movie Quote of the Moment: Bon Cop, Bad Cop:

David Bouchard: [surprised] You speak French?
Martin Ward: No, not really. I had a small gadget installed in my brain and I see subtitles under people when they speak.

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

The Canadian Code

Right, so last time, with all the Canadian commercials? This is the one I actually wanted to post but couldn’t find.



And, just for the record: No, Molson Canadian Beer is not the only company in Canada who has commercials. They are, however, the ones that like to trumpet their Canadian-ness.

And really, I’m rather okay with that. :)

Sunday, May 04, 2008

When Sad...Make Happy...

Right, so in the last week, my grandfather went in for a serious surgery, my very first "family dog" had to be put to sleep, the top filly in Thoroughbred racing managed to beat 18 of the industry’s top boys…before she shattered both her front ankles and had to be euthanized, and one of Nailor’s top men was diagnosed with liver cancer, kidney failure, and “about 24 hours to live.”

Ignoring my own sickness, I have to say, in times like this...I turn to comedy. Hello, I’m Canadian; it’s what we do.

Just so my Ameri friends don’t take offence…I totally still say “Zee” and not “Zed” when I see the letter “Z”. Also, I love you guys. Still, this shit is hilarious.








***I do feel it important to add that, no matter how Canadian I am, I still hate beer.
Thanks,
♥ Ms.I