In case you were wondering...

Only 40 days until Christmas! If you don't feel like continuously checking the various websites on the internet that countdown the days, you can also conveniently walk into any Wal-Mart and they have a countdown hanging above the entrance to the store. How comforting. Of course, theirs counts down the "shopping days" until Christmas. How commercially capitalistic.

However, even though I think it's still a little too early to be bringing out the decorations just yet, I do NOT think it's too early to start listening to Christmas music. I've already begun to ease myself into the season by turning on my copy of the Love Actually Soundtrack. "Easing" because they're admittedly not ALL Christmas songs on the CD--the ones that aren't are just mushy-gushy love songs that are getting me all sappy anyway.

I went out for breakfast with Señorita today and we were discussing her early Christmas purchase for her boyfriend. She told me that she went ahead and bought her boyfriend a new wallet.

Oh no.

In my personal experience with men's wallets, either giving them or hearing of other girls giving them, VERY few men have ever really been enthusiastic about receiving a wallet as a gift. The one guy I bought a wallet for, took two years before actually starting to use it. Unless they NEED it, guys will NOT buy themselves a new wallet. Unlike us women who change our wallets/purses depending on the hour of the day, men use their ONE wallet--whatever colour or fashion it comes in--to the DEATH. And if it's a good wallet to begin with, then that could be a very long time from now.

In the end, I think I (and the male servers around us) convinced her to return the wallet.

You're welcome, AJ.

I am being careful...

Oh so lonely. But that's what you get when you receive just what you ask for. Thanks for understanding, but I still miss you.

Next Hallowe'en

You scored as Lara Croft. A thrill-seeking, slightly unscrupulous, tough-as-nails archaeologist, Lara Croft travels the world in search of ancient relics perhaps better left hidden. She packs two Colt .45s and has no fear of jumping off buildings, exploring creepy tombs, or taking on evil meglomaniacs bent on world domination.

Indiana Jones 75% Lara Croft 75% Captain Jack Sparrow 71% The Amazing Spider-Man 71% William Wallace 67% James Bond, Agent 007 63% El Zorro 63% Batman, the Dark Knight 58% Maximus 50% Neo, the "One" 42% The Terminator 38% Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com

...

It's perfect--not only will I LOOK like her next Hallowe'en, but I have the personality traits of Lara Croft to back that up. I also have the equal amount of personality traits of Indiana Jones in me too, but luckily for me, for the tie-breaking question I chose tight clothing as more important as anything else and ended up being more like Croft than Jones. Can I help it if I like to show off my thwaist?

Please, sir, can I have some more?

It's been a while since the last time I went out with Vin--though the last time was memorable since he hadn't yet discovered that his dog couldn't stomach any kind of fruit; that Frebreze bottle was never too far away--and tonight was well worth the indulgence. Over a hot chocolate and a mound of dessert that neither of us finished, we just chatted and vented and stuffed ourselves with soulfood.

Thinsulate
Skunks
Crushes
Haagen Dazs

The night was good. Thanks, Vin, and have a good convocation tomorrow, even if it IS without the mortar boards. ;)

p.s. why do guys seem to always like to wear white running shoes to mow the lawn in? A mystery for the ages.

Happy Hallowe'en!

Did anyone else dress-up today as they went through their daily routine besides me? To school and back, and soon, to Best Buy, Wal-Mart, and then volleyball, I donned some red and my devil's horns--and apparently, THAT was dressed-up. All day, I probably encountered maybe 5 other people with any Hallowe'en spirit. The best so far was an Edward Scissorhands that passed me in the hall as I was on my way to study. With just my devil horns, the few funny stares I got on the bus were worth all the shy smiles that met me everywhere else.

At least the kids are out this year. I don't know about anyone else, but in the last few years, the number of kids that I've seen trick-or-treating in the streets has been dismal. It's as if everyone suddenly decided it was too scary to go out to collect candy. But this year, I'm glad to report that I've already had to refill my candy hand-out bucket 1.5 times--the 0.5 time being due to the fact that I got a little impatient waiting and ate about that much of the candy.

Witches, warlocks, princesses, genies, Power-Rangers, and some random assortment of creatures from beyond the grave have all passed by my front doorstep so far this evening. I love it.

Quote of the Moment:
"Oooh, a devil!"
    --a little 3 year-old princess as she took one look at me, received her candy, and toddled off down the steps

Reassurance

I'm only doing what needs to be done; saying what needs to be said. Life isn't fair so why should anything else be? Life isn't easy either; I'm alive, so that should explain why everything seems hard.
...

I don't know if I feel like I'm shaking down to the core because of all the coffee I drank, because I have a mid-term on Wednesday, because I can't sleep, or because of something deeper. I'm going to believe it's the cold. The weather is always something reliable to talk about when you have nothing else safer to say.

"Please don't make me cry."

Happy Birthday, indeed!

I would write and tell all about what I did to celebrate my birthday this past weekend, but I honestly can't remember. I can tell you what my plans had been, though. My plan had been for people to come to my house and each bring a different bottle of liquor. Brodder would then proceed to use this plethora of alcohol to mix different drinks for myself and my guests as requested.

You tell me how successful this plan turned out to be:




Not only did I practically fall asleep with my head in the garbage can, but I had to wake up the next morning and be on the court across town to play volleyball by 9am, and then rush down to work to cover half of a shift for a friend. Thank goodness Sherman was there to take care of (me) my transportation. The only consolation to those pressing appointments that I had to keep was that I played AMAZINGLY on the court compared to my teammates (see entry of about 2 weeks ago), and that my co-worker graciously stepped up and took care of me, keeping me from falling over and just dying on the floor multiple times.

My Quote of the Weekend:
"I'm never drinking again."

But then again, isn't that what everyone says after a weekend like this?

Noni?!

Yes, that's my hand in the picture--that baby is mine!
Thanks, mom, dad, and brodder!

Song of the Moment: "Mad World" - Gary Jules

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head: I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world, mad world

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday, Happy birthday
And to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world, mad world
Enlarging your world
Mad world
...

RoadTo came by today and walked in on me listening to this song on repeat (hey, I don't control the player's "random" function) and he asked me "What's with the suicide music?"

I don't think it's suicide music--I just happened to have gotten my hands on the song today and I just happen to like listening to it. It's a beautiful song, afterall.

I also just happened to like the idea that I'm not the only one that sometimes feels that the world's a little mad.

Celebrate!

My last few posts haven't exactly been the most upbeat, so I thought I'd share some fun. That and I'm feeling a little lonely without Sherman around lately. :( So, without further ado, I give you pictures from SJ+CG's wedding weekend. :D

There is no "I" in volleyball either

*sigh* This fact was only so true today. I mean, I like my team, I really do, but when we have no setter, we've all got to pull together and make up for our one weakness. And by "all", I mean, myself AND everyone else on the team. But alas, apparently if we're going to have one weakness, we're going to have many more as well.

If I served the ball, no one would go up for the block. If I passed the ball, no one would put the ball over. If I set the ball, no one would go for the hit. If I hit the ball, no one could get their next serve in. However, if dug the ball, EVERYONE could stand around and watch.

Alright, it wasn't THAT bad. But it sure felt like it. Especially with one game having a score of 6-25 and 13-25. Sad, sad day for our team.

And I'm not even one to get down on my team members, especially not with this team that everyone has to step up to a position they don't usually play, but all we had to do was PASS the ball ONCE, and we couldn't even do that. argh.

That's all. I'm sure I'll feel better after Wednesday when I get to bash some balls over with an actual setter to set me.

This much is true

I know that I am an intelligent student, a strong athlete, and a confident person. I know that I am optmistic, open-minded, and out-going. I know that sometimes I can be intimidating, moody, or aggresive. I know a lot about myself and the things that I am or can be. But one thing I know I am NOT, is spoiled. I am independent and I know that when it comes down to it, I need only trust in myself.

Gertrude's F--king Dog

The following is an excerpt from "A Transatlantic Interview" with Gertrude Stein.

The following readings were chosen at random from Tender Buttons and are followed by Gertrude Stein's verbatim responses.

A DOG

A little monkey goes like a donkey that means to say that means to say that more sighs last goes. Leave with it. A little monkey goes like a donkey.

"A little monkey goes like a donkey..." That was an effort to illustrate the movement of a donkey going up a hill, you can see it plainly. "A little monkey goes like a donkey." An effort to make the movement of the donkey, and so the picture hangs complete.

Boo's comment on Gertrude Stein's poetry being nightmarish for all those who read it is a true one. Just look at what she had to say about her OWN poem. And just think that was her explanation to help us understand what she was writing about! Anyway, that brings me to my Quote of the Moment by my prof today after reading that above excerpt:

"Pardon my French, but this would seem to be a perfect example of someone fucking with you."

MAN I love my class!

I stand poetically corrected

I believe it was just yesterday that I was talking to Sherman and I claimed that a man's knowledge of and/or ability to analyze poetry did little or nothing to woo me; it was a bonus, at best. And I stood by that claim from long ago, right up until today.

Today, in the middle of our regular, fun, and light lecture, my professor noted that Gertrude Stein's "Picasso" is "almost hypnotic when you read it out loud to yourself," at which point he lowered and softened his voice to read...

"This one was one who was working and certainly this one was needing to be working so as to be one being working. This one was one having something coming out of him. This one would be one all his living having something coming out of him. This one was working and then this one was working and this one was needing to be working, not to be one having something coming out of him something having meaning, but was needing to be working so as to be one working."

...and then I was a hypnotized puddle of goo in my chair. Had I not been goo, I might have run up and offered to have his babies for him just so that they could read to me like that when I got old. And it's not like it was a particularly entrancing poem either--it was prosimetric writing! Prose! As in everyday, regular writing! So, I've changed my mind. Not only is it hot for a man to read poetry (which has always been a good woo factor for me), but it is even HOTTER if he knows how to read it, and if he knows why he's reading it that way overall. *sigh*
...

"When You Are Old" - William Butler Yeats

When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
    And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
    And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
    And loved your beauty with love false or true;
    But one man love the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars
    Murmur, a little sad, From us fled Love;
    He paced upon the mountains far above,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
...

One day a stranger--whose face will seem familiar but not quite recognizable--will approach me and recite this poem to me mournfully with tears in his eyes; and after having recited it to me, he will walk away and out of my life once more, leaving me to shed a tear for him in bewilderment.
...

p.s. Happy Birthday, Squiggly.

Excuse me, are you going to eat that?

In 5 days, I have been to 4 all-you-can-eat dinners. I think I'm going to explode any second now.

Thursday - Brazilian Steakhouse
Saturday - Sushi
Sunday - Sushi
Monday - Pasta

Gross.

The only thing keeping me together is that although they've been AYCE, I haven't been eating all that I could eat. Well, at least not the last two times.
...

Update - Wednesday, September 21, 2005:

Make that 5 AYCEs in 7 days...

An Atkiner's Haven

Holy meat. I cannot recall the last time I've eaten so much meat at one time. But it was quite an experience. Last night was a friend's birthday at the Red Violin Brazilian Steakhouse down on the Danforth. Ever been to a steakhouse that's a buffet?

First we started off with the appetizers which included a salad bar and a selection of other kinds of finger-ish foods. Hero Cookie told Sherman and I to go light on the carbs and on the appetizers in general as he'd been through this dining experience before. Had he not been there to say that, MAN would I have gone to TOWN on those apps. All I could eat smoked salmon and dolmades?! That's a gourmet meal for me in itself!

Then during the digesting time between appetizer and main course, they brought out these little side dishes to accompany our meat: sauteed mushrooms, fresh-cut fries, grilled baby carrots, some rice, and fried bananas. Needless to say, we needed to order more of those sides VERY soon after they arrived. But finally, the main course...

Meat, meat, and more MEAT.

Around come these servers wielding huge skewers of meat and machetes, no less. At the beginning of our meal we were given these cards: one side of the card was green and the other side was red, and as long as our card was showing green on the table in front of us, these guys kept coming and offering us fresh cuts of meat, right onto our plates. Machetes inches from our faces, theses guys would slice/slide a hunk of meat off their skewer and hoist the cut onto our dish, oozing with juices and flavour. To top it all off at the end of the night (two and a half hours later) they served us roasted pineapple, seasoned with cinnamon.

YUM.

Overall, Hero Cookie claimed that this place wasn't the best churrascaria he'd ever had, but for me it was the ONLY churrascaria and it suited me just fine. :)
...

Of course, any night with Hero Cookie just wouldn't be a night if I didn't have a HC story to tell, so here it is.

Later that night, after stopping by a Tim Horton's on the way out to the middle of nowhere, HC called me out of the car to "come see this." What I climbed out to see was this HUGE alien bug thing crawling around under my car.

Kind of a mix between a beetle, a cockroach, and a frog (alien, remember), this thing was around the size of my palm and it was loping along with something of a limp. Just imagine a car rolling along slowly with one rear wheel that's bigger and a different shape compared to all the others--like in the episode of The Simpsons when Homer goes ahead and drives the car with a parking boot attached to the front wheel--that's how it looked like this thing was walking.

Although he wouldn't touch it directly, HC followed that thing (à la the skunk of the other night) and tormented it the best he could; he kicked sand and other debris at it, he spat spit on it, he spat hot coffee on it...whatever it took to get a reaction out of the thing. The only thing was, it didn't react. Though from the looks of it, it could fly, it didn't even spread its wings once. It actually didn't even pause in its tracks. It just keep hobbling along as though we weren't there and as though there weren't drops of coffee over its shell/wings/exoskeleton. In the end, it crawled back under the darkness of my car after taking a brief stroll in the light of the street lights of the parking lot. When we drove away, we couldn't see it in the parking space anymore and since we knew it didn't walk very fast, we assumed it'd made its mysterious flight away.

That or I ran over it with one of my tires. You know, whatever.

Show me the Scarecrow!

Standing out on the patio today, I was talking to some customers when suddenly I let out one gimongous sneeze. In response to my hugely gimongous sneeze, someone entering the restaurant yelled out an equally gimongous "bless you," after which I returned with an similar "thank you" and then continued talking to my customer. My customer interrupted me mid-sentence though.

Customer - "You know Cuba Gooding Jr. just blessed you, right?"

Whaaaa?

Yup. Although for a good 3 minutes I stood there arguing with this guy that he was trying to pull my leg, when I walked into the restaurant a few moments later, there he was: Cuba Gooding Jr.

Unfortunately I didn't get to serve him, but he seemed to be a nice enough guy. When I later passed him and thanked him again for the "bless you," he gave me a friendly "no problem" sort of wink in return, and throughout the whole time he and his posse (I think there were 8 of them in total) were brunching with us, he kept laughing his amazingly LOUD laugh that resonated through the restaurant. I thought that was great.

My other "whaaaaa?" moment came earlier in the day when I was rushing towards the bar and breezed by this familiar face. I'm usually really bad with celebrity sightings--usually the other servers have to TELL me when I've just had a brush with fame--but this time, I was like, well, "Whaaaa?"

Me - "Was that just..."
Gimmy - "Yup."
Me - "Cooooool..."

Cillian Murphy is actually kinda short off of the big screen. He's probably only about my height (5'6") if not a little shorter. But he looks just as creepy in real life as he does in the movies. Anyway, he was just leaving from his meal so I didn't get to actually interact with him. Ah well. More updates on the celeb sightings during this year's TIFF as they happen--as I'm sure they will.

The un-stinky annual NACIVT Tournament

I can't decide which name I like better: Hero Cookie, or Thunder Chicken. Decisions, decisions.

Last night there was a poker game going on in the ol' conference room. Hero Cookie/Thunder Chicken lost out early and so we went out to fetch some refreshments for the other players. As soon as we exited the building, HC/TC noticed a skunk meandering by the highway wall.

"Hey, there's a skunk! Let's go chase it!"

Of course my first reaction was to laugh and take his suggestion for a joke. But then to my surprise (or maybe NOT to my surprise) he was off after that thing. He chased it for a good 30 metres I'd say, keeping about 5 metres between himself and the skunk the whole time.

"You know if you get sprayed, I'm giving you $2.50 and you're taking the bus home tonight!"

I couldn't believe just how persistent he was--the poor animal was loping along and HC/TC was just stalking right along behind it. Finally, HC/TC decided to give a little burst of speed and close the distance between them as the skunk headed up a hill. As soon as he made his lunge at the skunk, the skunk's tail went springing upwards causing HC/TC to tear off in retreat. We both burst into laughter as the skunk finally disappeared over the hill.

"Man, I was so bold right until his tail went up!"

Luckily, there was no bus riding required at the end of the night.
...

This past weekend I was caught up in the 61st annual NACIVT tournament held right in Toronto this year, down at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre. What a crazy weekend. Parts of me are still sore from all the playing. However, I think I'm more sore over the fact that my brother had taken the camera to Calgary that weekend and so I have a total of zero pictures of the event. BUT, I DO have some of Eng's pictures to share...

Competition was fierce as usual, though I can't complain about the way my team played this weekend. There was just such chemistry and trust between whichever 6 of us were on the court that our games were amazing. We ended losing out in the semi-finals to a team we really shouldn't have lost to (I mean, who loses to a team called "Spice"?) but again, I have no complaints about the way we played our game--I just wish we could've played more.

The NACIVT tournament marked the end of the Tigers' volleyball season, but starting tomorrow, the fall volleyball season begins for me. I'm entered in a tournament to play with HC/TC, Sherman, Mon, Lainey, and Pwong. We're just in for rec-division, but this should be good.

HC: "If you guys make me move at all tomorrow [at the tournament], I'm going to f--kin' hurt you."

I can't wait.

Quote of the Moment:

"Uh, sir? Sir, I farted. That smell is from the fart that I made."
    --Todd, Scrubs
...

I haven't written in a VERY long time. Not that there hasn't been anything to write about, but more so that there just hasn't been much time during which I could just sit in front of the computer and think. Admittedly, I've returned to writing in my journal during the last little while and it feels nice. Nothing can really beat pen on paper...though I'm sure some guys might argue for the allure of girl on girl.

Boobin has made the leap to the Big Apple. Having played a HUGE role in this by aiding and abetting his escape, I spend every day wondering where he is, what he's doing, and if he's alright. I hear from him about every other day, but that just isn't the same. I was going to go out and run some errands today, and I almost found myself dialing his number to see if he wanted to tag along. I miss him. Perhaps if we can steal a weekend away, Boo, Squiggly, and I (at least) are going to visit him once he's settled. I hope that weekend will be soon.

*Wishing you luck and all the good stuff from afar*

Went to a casino last night. We were there for hours upon hours--the guys gambled and we girls chatted on the sidelines. By the end of the night, ALL of the them were down. And by down, I mean down. So, on the way to cash out what chips they had left, they passed the Let it Ride tables. Hero Cookie decided that rather than cash out his last $75, he'd put one chip on each spot at the table and go in for one last hand. He was dealt something like pocket Queens and a 9. He tucked right away and just watched as the dealer turned over another Queen and another 9. Full house. He walked away with $900.

Only Hero Cookie.

I'll take that as a compliment

1. I went out for lunch with my dad for lunch last week, and although he drove there, I drove home. He fell asleep in the car on the way home. My dad never sleeps in the car; he's too busy checking my blindspots.
2. Again last week, while walking along the Danforth minding my own business, I felt the softest ever tap on my shoulder. I turned around and met the eyes of a mother and a daughter also out for a stroll. The daughter asked me "what colour is your hair? My mom's too shy to ask, but she thinks it's absolutely gorgeous!"
3. The first guy in a long time gave me his number at the restaurant. Ooooh yes, guess who's still got it?

Quote of the Moment:

"There is no lost-and-found box. There's ass box..."
    --Scrubs

Write this

I was offended today as some guy came in to sit on the patio and proceeded to tell ME how I should be writing. The NERVE! And what made it worse was that he was a physiology student. A second-year student. And HE was telling ME how to write? I think not! It was all I could do to stand there and serve him with a smile. I just kept nodding, doing my best not to rip his head off to beat the rest of his body with it.

"You didn't study the 'writing process' in school? Well, the first step to writing is, well, writing."

No shit, Sherlock. I wasn't aware that they had classes for the obvious. As far as I know, you can't really teach creativity out of a textbook. It can be encouraged, but not taught. And also as far as I'm concerned, just because a book suggests that writers spend an hour or so just writing down rambling pages every morning, that doesn't mean that it is law that a writer must do so.

I write what I want to, when I want to. I let my creativity loose and allow my inspiration to guide me. Whether that's at 9 o'clock in the morning or now at 3 o'clock in the wee hours, it doesn't make a difference.

Good luck in second-year physiology, dickhead.

Back in business!

Guess who's back on the courts?! Oh YES, baby! I played my first volleyball game in a MONTH tonight, and actually, it went better than I thought it would. I'd say 95% of the hits that I swung tonight hit the court, and I was up blocking and passing as best I could. Granted, my blocks weren't exactly high reaching or anything (I was probably just getting my wrists over the net at most) but I was THERE!

Whew.

It felt soooooooooooo good to be back into the game. I swear, I felt like I wasn't living for the past month, having to sit out of so many practices and games and tournaments. If I had to wait any longer, I might have begun to suffer the effects of some sort of depression. I won't lie to myself though, I'm not back to 100% just yet. That might take me another few weeks. But the point is that I can go back to doing what I love, and what could be better than that?

The Caper of the Cursed Car

Yes my New York trip was fun, exhilerating and spectacular, but that was going to be a given anyway. The story on my mind right now though, is the story of our cursed car. We travelled to New York in three rented cars; two Dodge Chrysler Caravans, and one Toyota Camry. While our vetran long-distance drivers drove the vans, our youngest and least distance-experienced driver drove the Camry. Whether or not this had anything to do with the curse, I don't know, but these are the facts.

Due to the inexperience of TaTa, we kept him in between the two vans so that the other drivers could keep an eye on him. The motto from the start for all three drivers was "Don't try to be a hero;" if any one of them felt tired along the way, they should radio the other cars to pull over so that we could change drivers--everyone had at least one substitute.

Sometime during our third pit-stop (it seemed that no one's butt or bladder could last for longer than 2 hours straight in the cars) we all agreed that that would be our last one before driving the rest of the remaining 5-6 hours to New York. So we all piled back into our cars and headed out. A block later, TaTa pulled the Camry to the side and radioed us: "I have a flat."

So, EVERYONE pulled over again, and waited as TaTa began to change the flat. While we were lucky that the town police were kind enough to direct traffic around the car, AND that the flat had happened to occur right across the street from a garage that was nice enough to patch the tire for free, we were unlucky in that TaTa's first attempt to jack the car was poorly aimed and the car's body was dented ever so slightly as a consequence. However, the tire was fixed and changed and we were back on our way soon after.

Finally, we reached our hotel in Manhattan. At the check-in, the concierge told us not to leave our cars out in front of the hotel as there was no legal parking there and the police were quick to ticket you. Hearing this, the vetran-van-drivers left a person on guard during each trip made inside while unpacking our bags. However, the Camry somehow managed to be left by itself, and although it was for no more than 5 mintues, TaTa came back out of the hotel to be greeted by a $115(USD) parking ticket.

After this, the cars were parked away into a garage for the rest of the trip and we managed to be car-trouble free for the weekend. It wasn't until the trip home that the capers continued.

On the way home from Jersey, we began our caravan ride again with Trace in the lead with her van, TaTa and the cursed Camry in the middle, and Sherman and I in the rear. Pretty much all of the passengers passed out on the ride. Pwong, who managed to stay semi-conscious, kept checking on the drivers periodically via radio to make sure they were all okay. Even I had managed to fall asleep for a while. What I woke to, was Sherman calling out at Tata. In front of us, TaTa must have managed to dozed off himself because he had drifted from the left lane off the road and onto the shoulder, heading for the grassy ditch. Luckily, the rumble-strip on the side of the interstate woke him in time to wrench the car away from the median guardrail, back onto the road and into the centre lane before returning to the left lane. Amazingly no other cars were in the way when he crossed into the centre lane, and those any where around him had been alert enough avoid him in those moments. Needless to say, the drivers were changed and we continued on our way with Pwong now in charge of that Camry.

Although up until now it would have seemed that all of this may have been due to TaTa's bad luck or inexperience, that wasn't entirely the case as it doesn't explain what happened next.

What happened next was a huge rain/thunder storm and flooding. Visibility was down and a lot of cars pulled over onto the shoulder though our caravan of cars inched on homewards. At some point, we came to a complete stop because the road was flooded up ahead an no one could proceed--cars and trucks were backed up for miles along the interstate. As the rain came down we parked the cars and kept in contact through the radios. After a pause in our radio conversation, Pwong's voice crackled to us: "I've just been nudged." The curse of the Camry struck again.

When the rains had subsided, we were able to get out on the interstate (as we waited to the flood waters to disperse) to assess the damage--of which the thankfully was none. The car that had nudged us in the rain had cowardly driven off right after the incident with no sign of remorse.

From then on, we amazingly made it home to Canadian soil without any further events. Granted, the things that happened with that cursed Camry were impeding and intensely frightening at points, but all in all, it turned our trip into an adventure. Afterall, it's not like our whole trip was spent in the cars...

"...it's a hell of a towwwwwwn!"

Going to be on my way to New York, New York in just under 12 hours. I'm packed, I'm excited, and I'm ready to go! So far, all the signs point to the fact that I just might not get to play this weekend--I can't get a hold of the girl I lent my jerseys to and I haven't gotten a real ankle brace yet--but I'm still keeping my fingers crossed!

Unlike my Vancouver trip, I was ready and packed within 1/2 hour today. I still feel like I've forgotten something, but I figure that the States have all the things the you could possibly ever want to buy, so if I need something, I'll get it there. We're shopping on the way home on Monday, and I'm already scared I'm going to break my bank. I hope I do. :)

Pablo has already requested that I buy him this ultra cool folding chair that HE saw during HIS trip to NYC, and it IS the craziest thing ever!

I JUST might have to buy it.

Anyway, back to the preparations and stuff. Can anyone suggest places to eat in next few hours before I leave?

Song of the Moment: "Secret Love" - Mariah Carey

Oh baby, oh baby, come give it to me love baby
We'll keep it between us, you and me got a secret love baby
Oh baby, oh baby, come give it to me love baby
We'll keep it on the hush, you're not mine--got a secret love baby

It was a summer's day when walking by
She didn't notice as you turned and you discreetly winked your eye
And I remembered you from back in the day
You were the boy I couldn't breathe without
The one that got away

Now that I've found you I cannot let you go
You know I got my man at home but baby I still need you so
And I know you ain't never leaving that girl
But everytime you touch me baby
It feels so incredible

Oh baby, oh baby, come give it to me love baby
We'll keep it between us, you and me got a secret love baby
Oh baby, oh baby, come give it to me love baby
We'll keep it on the hush, you're not mine--got a secret love baby

Quote of the Moment:

"Everything is the way it is because everything was the way it was."
    --Jonathan Safran Foer, "Everything is Illuminated"
...

As I was just telling RoadTo today, I believe that my method for successfully getting through a book nowadays is by starting it twice. I've noticed that of the last few books I've read on my own, I've had to start two of the last three of them twice before actually getting to the end. It's not that they're not good or anything, but just that I get so distracted by other activities or even other books before returning to finish what I've started, and then by that time, I'll usually just begin anew to make sure that I've got my story straight so far. Anyway, if that's the case, then my next two successful reads should be Wicked and Neuromancer. I can't wait...again!
...

I woke up this morning without a shirt and missing two of my four earrings. Ever wonder at night where our minds go and whether our bodies follow?

Ooooh, bubbles!

Once again, this link comes courtesy of Brodder. He says that he didn't find it though--apparently his friend did. Whatever. It's too funny. I gotta give props to whoever animated this thing though; it's pretty addictive, even though it does absolutely nothing productive. But then, that's probably why it's so great.
...

Update: Drag her by her butt through the cracks. It may sound weird, but that's only because you have yet to try it.

Safe and sound

The pseudo-hermit I am, it takes a little while for me to catch up on the current newsflashes (I don't like to watch the news and will read the paper only when it's available). Anyway, by the time I heard about the London bombings, it was already old news. Despite that fact, I felt sick to my stomach to know that

1. yet another country could fall prey to the anger of others.
2. my friends--people I know and care about--were in that country, in that city at the time of the attacks.

Honestly, all the news about bombings and fighting and wars overseas seemed so distant and unrelated to my life until it suddenly came a step closer by the incidents in London. HC and Lainie have already emailed to let everyone know they're alright, but it was all a scary ordeal. It still is.

My heart goes out to all those affected.

Glued to the tube

The other night I was awake at Sherman's and happened to catch all of the latest rendition of Great Expectations starring Gwyneth Paltrow and Ethan Hawke. I'd wanted to see this for a long time--I'd actually made it to the theatre when it first came out, but was stricken with the stomach flu about 20 minutes in--and so I settled in and spent the night being romanced by the timeless story.

Honestly, I loved the movie. AND I loved the book. Neither has much to do with the other, but both stories were/are so enchanting. It's like a real-life fairy tale. I was a little disappointed that some of Dickens's story didn't make it into the movie script, but either way, I thought I was done really well...better than the Romeo & Juliet with DiCaprio and Danes, personally. Anyway, I just needed to rave about it since it was such a good late night movie. It was so good that it made me want to read the actual story again (all 300 pages) to pick out all that differed between the two. I'm such a nerd.

The other thing that I've become hooked on that's not so nerdy, is that T.V. show, Scrubs. My brother randomly came home with the first season on DVD one day, and he stayed up a whole night and much of the day after watching the WHOLE season in a single sitting. He then ranted and raved to me about how great the show was and how awesome the comedy was and told me I HAD to see it myself--the million and one clips he forced me to witness out of context just didn't do the show justice, as hilarious as they were on their own. Well, for a while I forgot about it, and then for a little longer, I just didn't have the time, but last night, I finally decided to take a peek. So, Sherman and I took our take out over to the living room and turned it on.

We (I) watched the whole first DVD (8 episodes) out of a 3 DVD set. So did my brother. He had the unfortunate timing of having been in the room when I started the first episode. Once it started, he just couldn't leave--that's how strong the addiction can hit you. The sun was rising by the time we all trudged our separate ways to bed. I felt sorry for the boys as they both had to be up within the next two hours, heading to work. I, on the other hand, got to sleep my morning away, disabled as I am from working at all.

So, back to the tube for me tonight. I've already snuck a few episodes today before going to practice (I may not be able to work, but I can sure stand on a volleyball court and get some touches in) and I'm going to do as many more as I can tonight. Addictive stuff I tell you.

Rejected--na-na-na-na!

Hehehe. The font I use is "verdana"; however, I just typed it in as "verdanana", reminding me of the song that has a part that goes "na-na-na-na." If you know what song this is, then perhaps you found my typo as amusing as I did. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then never mind you.

I was supposed to go to Wonderland tomorrow, but my plans got all screwy then cancelled (at no one's fault). But the thing is, I'd had it all planned out! I was going to head out early, pick up BigSexy, and be at the park by opening. Once we got there, I was going to suit up with my tensor and air-cast and hobble with my crutches over to the entrance. There, we would buy our tickets, and then go in and ask for a courtesy wheelchair for me. From that point on, BigSexy would wheel me around from ride to ride, for front of the line access, baby! It was going to be splendid! Who's going to tell the wheelchair ridden girl to wait at the end of the line? That's right. Alas, my shamming will have to wait for another day.

Instead, BigSexy and I are probably going to head down to the beach early tomorrow. Either just for a walk or just for lunch, we'll see, but all's I know is that fun times are always to be had down at the beach.

Oo-oh! New York is excitingly in the works. Sure I'm going down to play in a tournament at a time I shouldn't be playing. And sure I'm riding down with a rival club's team consisting completely of boys not yet old enough to drive. And I know I haven't been working for over 2 weeks and have had no income for that same amount of time. But it's VOLLEYBALL. If it's any consolation, my own team may not enter the tournament, so I may not get to play. And though it's a rival team, I'm dating their ringer--I've been dating him longer than this team's been a team. And though I haven't been working, guess who just found a cheque lying on her desk that's been waiting to be deposited for the last 3 weeks?

Booyah: I was meant to go to New York.

In other news, I tried to go and donate blood today, but was rejected after 3 minutes of pumping because my veins were too weak. Who gets rejected from trying to help? I feel like such a failure. In an attempt to make it up to me, the volunteers covered me in stickers and still offered me juice and cookies at the end--however, I still felt like the reject I was, especially when it was revealed that the next lady to come to the juice and cookie table had just donated for her 136th time. Damn woman and her powerful veins. Even Esquire got to donate successfully, even though he'd only been at the mall to say "hi" and to buy groceries. :( Maybe next time.
C'mon, who could reject this face? Wouldn't you want my blood?

Canadian Cuties

So I DIDN'T play in the Canada Day tournament this weekend, but was there both days from beginning to end to cheer on my teammates. I offered them as much support as I could from the sidelines; from fetching duffel bags mid-game, to bandaging injuries between serves. The one supportive action I provided that takes the cake though, has got to be lending my running shoes to the one girl that forgot hers at home...the one girl that happened to have helped me sprain my ankle a week ago in the first place. No hard feelings, but did she feel awful--first taking me out of the game, then taking my shoes to boots. Hehehe. At least we played well.

Best time-outs of the weekend
On the girls' side: So that mommy on-court could get baby off-court some apple juice.
On the guys' side: So that the team's star player could finish taking his whizz by the pine-trees lining the parking lot.

Best Stupid story
UGee got the NASTIEST gash on his knee this weekend, but it wasn't from diving for the ball. It didn't even happen on the court. And no one else was physically responsible for it.

UGee was sleeping in a chair when Dang walked up and squirted him with water from a bottle Dang was holding at crotch level. Dang trotted away for a bit of a head start and waited for UGee to leap out of his seat after him. Well, UGee DID leap, but fell right there. Dang came to a stop and watched. UGee got up shook himself off and tore after Dang who had resumed his head start. A few steps into it, Dang looked back, and guess who was back on the ground?

Poor UGee had this HUGE bloody gash on his knee (eww) that had to be held together with more than one whole packet of gauze, and both medical and athletic tape.

Apparently his brain was awake, but his legs weren't.

Finally, The Best/Cutest Pictures of the weekend
Of course, they have nothing to do with the games going on around.





This little girl was the CUTEST. Not even 2 years old, she'd come up, pet Hunter, and then run away to tell someone that she'd "pet woh-woh." Adorable.

Money grudgingly well spent

It's been almost a week, but I figured I'd still take the time to mention my shopping spree from last Thursday. So:

Don't you hate it when you go ahead and spend $115 in under 30 seconds on stuff you don't even want? Well, that's what I did on Thursday. I spent it Thursday night after my practice...in North York...at the hospital...on crutches and an air cast.

*sob*

Yup. At Thursday's practice I came down on another girl's foot and rolled my ankle--it "popped" then "crunched" on the way down. Eww. I sobbed for a good 10 minutes. At first I started tearing due to the pain.

Then I tried to get up.

The tears started flowing freely--I couldn't walk.

Then I heard someone say to me "maybe you'll be off it only 2 weeks and just miss the Canada Day tournament."

The tears came faster--I couldn't play.

Then I heard someone else ask me if she should call her boyfriend for a ride home instead.

I began to sob--I couldn't drive.

It was (and still is) awful. A lot of the girls told me that I was brave; any of them would have been sobbing by then. I thought I WAS sobbing. But apparently I wasn't wailing and screaming like they would have been. To this day, I still can't walk, play or drive, but I can hobble with the best of them. Whenever I go up and down the stairs, I warn people and let them go ahead of me. Once, Brodder got caught and started bouncing on his step behind me:

"This is worse than Mr. Bean!"

But, I've been doing my best, and with Sherman (who used to be Shmelly) around, I've been well taken care of. I even got to go out for my anniversary this weekend despite my injury. It took us a while, but we got there. And boy was the food worth it!

But I digress.

So, out of work and out of commission, I've been sitting at home not doing too much. Icing my foot, elevating it, putting ointments and oils on it, and hobbling from place to place. I've been telling people not to treat me like the invalid I appear to be, and have been doing my best to live normally.

Except when Sherman's around.

When Sherman's around, I act like a big baby. But that's only because I love him and I know he loves me. :D Hey, I'd do the exact same thing for him too if it'd been him on the ground (*knock on wood that it wasn't*). Well, almost the exact same thing. I don't think I'd be able to carry him around like he had to carry me from hospital to hospital, but I'd sure TRY.

Update on my progress since? The swelling of my ankle (my left one, by the way) has gone down so that my toes no longer look like a baby's fat dimpled toes, but my ankle's still a little swollen. My foot is still a little black and blue, but now mostly purple and red. And my walk has been upgraded from a hop to a slow waddle/hobble. Whoo-hoo! Volleyballers look out, I'm on my way back!

Another thousand words

There's something about looking at pictures that makes you feel all warm and mushy inside. It brings back the memories of that good time gone by; I mean, because who takes pictures of sad events? It just shouldn't be allowed. That's not to say that we should completely forget and disregard the sad parts of our lives--they're a part of what makes us who we are afterall--but there's just a different way to remember those times outside of photography.

I was just flipping through Hero Cookie's pictures online and I was getting all fuzzy remembering the last summer we spent all together doing the goofy things we do best. Summer is the best time for making memories (personally) and looking back over last summer made me all excited for the few months ahead of summer, sun, and pictures.



Happy picture taking/memory making!

Well, we at least we match

Remember how last week I was writing and complaining about getting a charley horse? Well, tonight's games officially marked the week of me still feeling the pain. I gave Shinner his distance tonight in an attempt to avoid a repeat run-in with him like last week's, but with me keeping my distance, someone else had to get a little closer...and that poor person was Shmelly.

Shmelly and Shinner were splitting the back court defence, and in a moment's miscommunication, both of them ran after and dove for the same ball. The consequence? Shinner handed out his second charley horse. His knee connnected firmly with Shmelly's right thigh.

After the games, Shmelly was limping over by the sidelines while I attended to him. Shinner came up to us to check on how Shmelly was doing. While he was with us, we reminded him of his giving me a charley horse on the opposite leg the week before.

Shinner: "Oh yeah! Heh heh...well, consider it an early anniversary present from me...free of charge!"

Haha. How sweet and thoughtful...and PAINFUL. But his right, he DID give each of us one...

My two left feet...if only

Went shopping today with Tuna. Had to buy Brodder's birthday present, dad's Father's day present, and perhaps Shmelly's anniversary present (it's been a year already?!). As we made our way through the mall, one stop brought us to SportChek where I found pair of Mizuno court shoes on sale. I tried on one pair, and then asked the sales guy to bring me out another pair in another style, which he did. I first put on the left shoe to see if I'd gotten the right size. The shoe fit like I glove. I was so excited, so I grabbed the other shoe out of the box to put that on.

But there was a problem. It was another left shoe.

Tuna laughed while I sent the sales guy scouring the store for the right shoe for my right foot. Alas, there was none. I was SO going to buy that shoe had they been a pair! Damn me and my pair of feet! And here I'd thought that having two left feet was just a colloquialism, meanwhile, somewhere out there, there is in fact someone with two right feet. That, or someone is wearing a pair of Mizuno shoes with a very uncomfortable left foot.

Batman Began yesterday with me as one of the last audience members. I thought it was pretty well done. It sure explained a lot. Much like the third episode of Star Wars--everything seem to fall more into place after seeing both those movies and knowing what came in the movies "after" those. I swear BigSexy nearly ruined his pants a few times throughout the movie. Whenever a new character made an appearance, I heard a little gasp come from the seat next to me. Names like "Flass" or "Scarecrow" meant nothing to me, but to BigSexy, they meant so much more. But in spite of the fact that those names meant little to me (and in spite of the fact that Katie Holmes sucked), I thought it was an awesome job with the story and casting. In the words of another friend, "It Rawked!"

As a side note, Mr. & Mrs. Smith was also really good. Shmelly and I flew out to see it on Sunday night, and loved it. That casting was perfect too, and the story was simple, but without any gaps. I wish I was like Mrs. Smith...or maybe I am...who could know?

Pablo had the decency to be discreet about a certain someone's birthday this weekend, but I don't think I will be since it was just SO FUNNY! I WILL omit, the name of this certain someone, but I am going to go ahead and post the MSN conversation I had with this someone, semi-detailing the events of his birthday party on Saturday:

Me - doing anything to celebrate your 23rd?
Certain Someone - no, but the guys took me out on Sat to kareoke
Me - oooooh fun. Karaoke? Where? did you sing? did they sing to you? hahaha
CS - yeah at jingo, i was trashed, so i was actually singing lol.
CS - but those guys played such a bad prank on me at the end.
Me - that's hilarious! really? what happened?
CS - well they blindfolded me, and had a stripper come in to give me a lapdance.
CS - so eventually they tell me to raise my arms and put them behind my back
CS - and i go along with it, enjoying my time
CS - this is after i have my hips on the stripper
CS - and finally when my arms are in the air, they beat the shit outta me.
Me - Bwahahahaha!
CS - but....
CS - i find out the next morning that it wasnt a stripper
CS - it was HOWARD :@
CS - he was rubbin up on me and shit
Me - SHUT UP!!!! that's SOOOOOOOOOO good!!!!
CS - and they took pics!
Me - hahahahaha!
CS - with my hands holding his hips
CS - i cant believe i didnt know
Me - that's hilarious! you couldn't tell it was a GUY?
CS - but i was too drunk
Me - hehehe it must've been a lot of alcohol!
CS - hah yeah quite a bit :)
Me - well, it wouldn't be a party without that much alcohol

Pablo, you and the guys also rawk.

I don't know about you, but drunk or not, I would NEVER trust the guys enough to let them blindfold me on my birthday. :) Well, belated Happy Happy regardless, certain someone.

Why is its name "Charlie" anyway?

Continuing with the idea that my brother uses the net to find the oddest things, this is the window that he currently has left open on the computer. But then again, maybe he's onto something...

Señorita and I had yet another girly day yesterday. I can tell because my wallet's about $100 lighter. Between a patio lunch (as she ogled the server-dude) and a stroll down Yonge Street, within just a few hours we BOTH managed to spend that much money. Who knows where it went? The only thing I regret about having spent that money so quickly is that had we been able to hold onto it a little longer, we both might have spontaneously spent that $100 (plus a little more of course) on tattoos for ourselves. THAT would have been interesting. But alas, it seems our spontaneous body scarring will have to wait until the next trip out.

Also yesterday, I played volleyball summer league and in a moment of defensive flailing, I managed to get myself one mother of a charlie horse.

(However, unlike the one that Pablo and Strawfairy gave to SiD a few years back, mine was by accident.)

Cutting out the thinking behind my move, I basically decided to run through the path of our setter to get into position and on the way, I misjudged the ball and instead of being out of the Shinner's (the setter) way, I got directly INTO his way--end result being that he ran full force into me and I into him, and I got his right knee (eww) full speed into my left thigh.

Holy mother did that hurt.

And it still hurts. I've got this huge bump (though surprisingly no bruise) on my thigh that it hurts to touch. I can still walk, though running is questionable, and jumping proves even more of a challenge. So guess who has practice tonight? Ugh.

Antsing for Ice-Cream

"What do you do, go onto Google and type in 'crap'?"

I swear, I don't know how my brother finds some of this stuff.

Click here to see what I mean.

On a not completely unrelated note, have you ever thought of changing your career due to something you've seen on TV? It's not me, but it's someone I know, and I thought it was hilarious. Just imagine you're a CGA or some other sort of successful financial position, and you decide to become a safety inspector at your local nuclear power plant because Homer Simpson makes it look like fun. It's not exactly that, but that's as close as I can get without really giving it away. I've already said too much.

I slept most of the hours away today after work and now I'm antsy to go out. I tried to coax my brother out for ice cream, but that surprisingly didn't work. Apparently he's got better things to do, like watch SCRUBS for the nth time over and search for crap on the internet. After such a great chillin' day yesterday, all I want is more time like that.

Yesterday after work (and a short nap) Shmelly and I headed down to the beach with the intent of meeting up with some friends on the volleyball courts. However, on the way we kept getting distracted, first by the pretty houses leading down to the beach, and then by the little booths and kiosks selling all of the crap that I love, and finally by our favourite store on Queen Street: ENDS. By the time we parked by Ashbridges, we were both sporting a new pair of sunglasses and had other new articles of clothing in the car, waiting to be worn.

Walking along the boardwalk in a lazy attempt to find our friends--since it was rather late by then, we didn't actually expect to find them still playing--we ran into random handfuls of other friends instead which was just as nice. After rounding the bend we started to head back, but not before stopping at the ice cream truck for a couple of twist cones to accompany us for the walk to the car. From there we were going to head for dinner at a randomly chosen sushi restaurant nearby, but ended up cruising home (the scenic route) for home-cooked chicken by mum-mum.

Why can't all days be like that?

But alas, here I am at home, blogging and so far beating Boo at Literati. I am also nursing a nasty sunburn from the weekend. I'm not wearing a tank top, but it looks like I am. Gross. Anyone want to go for ice cream with a lobster?
...

Song of the Moment: "Walk Away" - Christina Aguilera

What do you do when you know something's bad for you
but you still can't let go?

I was naive, your love was like candy
Artificially sweet, I was deceived by the wrapping
Got caught in your web and I learned how to bleed
I was prey in your bed and devoured completely

And it hurts my soul cause I can't let go
All these walls are caving in, I can't stop my sufferin'
I hate to show that I lost control
Cause I, I keep going right back
To the one thing that I need
To walk away from

I need to get away from you
Need to walk away from you
Get away, walk away, walk away. . .

I should have known that I was used for amusement
Couldn't see through the storm; it was all an illusion
Now I've been licking my wounds, but the venom seeps deeper
We both can seduce, but darlin' you hold me prisoner

Oh, I'm about to break, I can't stop this ache
I'm addicted to your allure, and I'm fiendin' for a cure
Every step I take leads to one mistake
I keep going right back to the one thing that I need

Oh, I can't mend this torn state I'm in
Getting nothing in return, what did I do to deserve
The pain of this slow burn
And everywhere I turn,
I keep going right back to the one thing that I need
To walk away from

I need to get away from you
Need to walk away from you

Every time I try to grasp for air
I am smothered in despair
It's never over, over, oh oh
Seems I'll never wake from this nightmare,
I let out a silent prayer
Let it be over, oh

Inside I'm screaming, begging, pleading no more

Now what to do, my heart has been bruised
So sad but it's true, each beat reminds me of you

It hurts my soul, cause I can't let go
All these walls are caving in, I can't stop my sufferin'
I hate to show that I've lost control
Cause I, I keep going right back to the one thing that I need

Oh, I'm about to break, I can't stop this ache
I'm addicted to your allure, and I'm fiendin' for a cure
Every step I take leads to one mistake
I keep going right back to the one thing that I need

Oh, I can't mend this torn state I'm in
Getting nothing in return, what did I do to deserve
The pain of this slow burn and everywhere I turn
I keep going right back to the one thing
that I need
To walk away from

Need to get away from you
Need to walk away from you
get away, walk away, walk away

Van-City in a collage, at best

Vancouver was AWESOME!!! Well, except for the fact that it rained everyday that I was there. Oh wait, it didn't rain on the day I left...that day was beautiful, of course. I should have known--Murphy's Law or something.

Of all the 200+ pictures I took (well, mostly other people took them with MY camera), I have ONE picture of my team on court. And weren't not even playing. Ah well. I think that each of us were more excited about BEING in Vancouver than playing in Vancouver. Probably because we didn't do so hotly at the tournament, but I personally attribute to that to the fact that everyone on the team was either injured or sick by the time we actually started playing. Except for me. I just sucked badly.

Anyway, feel free to take a peek at the pictures--or not--by clicking the wad of them below--or not.






While we were out there, myself and the other girls in my room tried to cram in as much as possible in an attempt to make the most of our over-priced plane tickets out there. Our adventures in brief included shopping, touring downtown, avoiding near-collisions, having amazingly intellectual conversations, eating desserts, sampling the fresh sushi cuisine, crossing suspension bridges, riding ferries, experiencing the nightlife, taking pictures, and of course, playing volleyball.

One night though, I had an extremely blonde moment I would like to share. I was staying in a room with 3 other girls, one of them being a "Melissa." This caused some confusion between the two of us whenever someone else referred to one of us as simply "Mel" because the both of us would end up responding at the same time. Anyway, one night, I was talking to Shmelly on the phone while Melissa was getting ready to go out. She realized I was talking to Shmelly and so she said "Hi, Shmelly." I told Shmelly that "Hey, Melissa says 'hi'," so he said "Hi Mel" and then I said "Hello."

(Did you get all that?)

It took me a good 30 seconds to a minute of amused silence from Shmelly to realize what had happened and to turn to Melissa and tell her (amidst a fit of giggles) that "Oh, MELissa, Shmelly says 'hi' too." For the rest of the weekend, all the girls would have to do was imitate my oblivious "Hello" and all of us would burst into laughter at my expense.

Tons and tons more happened out there, but I'm SOOO tired and have GOT to go to bed so I'll have to write about it some other time (or you could just ask me if you REALLY want to know and I could just TELL you over coffee some time). Just picture this: I arrived home on Monday at 11:30pm, and started working again the next morning at 9:00am. I haven't stopped since. I've either been working or getting ready for the wedding that happened this weekend (during which I got completely SMASHED, but that's another story). Honestly, I haven't slept in past 8:30am ONCE since I've been back. *sob* As far as I'm concerned, I'm still jet-lagging.

That said, time for bed!