Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Wicked Wednesday: Something About a Jet Plane

Happy hump day!

Oh, my friends, I am SO nervous!  Here, in Toronto, it is 3.45 AM and I am packed and ready to go.  In a mere eight hours my plane takes off for St. John's, Newfoundland!  Did I mention, I will be flying on the new Porter Airlines, allegedly the "high class" method of travel!  I hope they have laptop plugs and wireless internet! 

If you haven't already guessed, the Newf was born and raised on the rock and I have yet to go out myself.  After two years of marriage  I am finally going to meet the remaining Newfoundland clan.

It will be marvellous, I am sure - Newfoundlanders are notoriously friendly and our trip is the result of a big birthday bash (taking the pressure off me, thank goodness)!  On one hand I cannot wait, on the other hand my house has been cleaned three times in an attempt to dispel nervous energy.

So, off I go, heading deep into the land of anchors and aquatics ready to meet my family!

Wish me luck!


High in the sky and yours,

L

Monday, August 16, 2010

Music Monday: Puddles, Mudd and Profanity

And a merry Monday to you, my readers!

Yeah (expletive) right. 

Oh, please pardon me.  It has been a week to forget and here I am, faced with yet another Monday.

I am still nursing my wounds from last week and certainly not ready for another.  This coming week will be a big one, I am headed to Newfoundland to meet  my in-laws!  This is likely a big part of the reason I am bat (expletive) crazy.

I digress - Monday is not about me, Monday is about music!  You will notice I have changed up the (expletive) format with a small addition.  This matches the tone of my mood and the title of today's music.

It seemed fitting, what with Mr. Steve Slater's infamous leave from his flight attendant employment at Jet Blue.  Read about it here and here.

Now, back to our miffed Monday music.

The song chosen for today chronicles the anger felt after a romantic break-up (or break down, depending on your mentality).  The best trivia piece about this song?  It was written in 1993, before the band made their big break.  Some silly girl had told the writer to get a job and quit his musical career.  She later apologized, in 2002, when the single was released and sold over 500,000 copies.  The album has sold over 3,800,000 copies.

How's that for payback?  Consider picking up the album - I am a big fan (and you will further prove this guy's point).

The song's name was changed to make it more radio and TV friendly but I am going to say it like the maker intended.  Take that as your "viewer discretion" warning.

Boys and girls, critters of all kinds, please join me in listening to Puddle of Mudd's "She Fucking Hates Me".



I think my all-time favourite characters are the exam-writing-boy and the electric janitor.  There is something to be said for an individual who can take a nasty thing and rock it.  

If you are to take anything from this debacle of a week, run with the idea that bad stuff happens but you can trump them with style.  Your (expletive) rocking style.




Muddy and mad,


L

Thursday, August 12, 2010

SMILE! (Always Love Yours)



Love your smile (even if it's a little crooked).  Hopefully that little head is big enough for you!


Taken while headed Westbound on the 401 through Toronto


Never underestimate the power of a smile, whether it be yours or someone else's.  Smile when you are in a bad mood, smile when you are approaching what seems to be a nasty person and smile when you are on the phone.  It really will make you sound happier and you may just find that the nasty person is just as unsure as you.  

This little guy put me in a good mood for the rest of day.  Hopefully it perks yours up too!


Positively yours,

L

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

It's A Wicked Wednesday: Garnering a Nemesis

Over here in Linnie Land, I find pleasure in the oddest of places.  It keeps me happy (my booze budget just isn't there).  Today, on this Wicked Wednesday, a word on enjoying your nemesis.

I have an enemy and I love to hate her.  My skin crawls at her mention and yet, I cannot get enough of her.  She is my opposite in so many ways and yet I find her so incredibly intriguing, I just cannot get enough.  

Who is this girl, you ask?  Who is the evil soul who plagues my psyche?  She is unspeakable, she is my nemesis.

Everyone has a nemesis, they just don't like to admit it.  Very few have the ability to enjoy their nemesis but you can.

If you don't have a nemesis I suggest you find one, pronto.  Man or woman you need a nemesis.  People are defined by the food they eat, their friends and their nemesis.  If you don't have a nemesis what does that say about you (it says nothing and who wants to be nothing)?

The key is to properly appropriating a nemesis is to avoid becoming so wrapped up in your foe that you take it seriously.  It's not.  The last thing you want to be is deranged or the new stalker in town. 

To be a proper nemesis one must:

1.) Be an individual.  I know, I know, it would be so much easier to dislike the entire group but that is just too taxing a task.  There is enough hate in the world, use your nemesis as an outlet, not a hate-mongering business.

2.) Have done something that actually annoyed you.  It is no good to have a nemesis that has done nothing wrong.  They have to majorly drive you nuts, at least for part of the day.

3.) NOT have abhorrently insulted you.  Remember, this is for fun not business.  I am not in the business of creating hate.  We have true evil people to do that for us.

4.) Be visible in a public forum.  You have to keep up on what your nemesis is doing otherwise your love/hate relationship will bite the dust?  This must be done in a public forum otherwise you risk treading onto stalker territory.

5.) Actually have the ability to win.  It is no good to pick a fight you are guaranteed to win.  In fact, that is downright despicable and will never be supported by myself.  You need a challenge and people of proper society always fight a fair fight.

6.) Most importantly, be the beginning of your end.  Whether it be your image, your day, your graduation picture, your nemesis must be able to ruin you (or already have - even Britney had a comeback).  Take this statement however you would like.  I encourage out-of-the-box thinking.

In choosing your enemy show a little gumption.  Be creative.  I was once so angry with my younger brother, Yak, that he was my nemesis for the better part of a year.  His crime?  He "forgot" to reload the toilet tissue and I was left stranded in an isolated bathroom in the middle of my fabulous birthday party.  I spent close to thirty minutes with my skirt hitched up around my ears, my bum sore with its position on the porcelain throne.  I was unable to leave the bathroom for fear of a partygoer finding me bare-assed and rummaging for something to complete my dirty task.  Eventually I settled on a sailing magazine.  Those are thirty minutes (and a shred of dignity) that I will never get back.

So, you've got a nemesis lined up.  You despise them, they make you want to pull out your hair and pretty it up all at the same time.  What do you do with them?

First, a nemesis is an amazing scape goat.  If I have had a bad day the Newf can be sure he will be hearing about how my most-hated crossed me.  Sometimes we (especially women) need something to complain about.  You do not want to solve your problems (what does that accomplish), you just want to rant (much more satisfying).  Who better to rant about than the thorn in your side?

Eventually this gets old and you need a new, more meaningful purpose for your newfound enemy.  Think of this as the ultimate video game.  You aren't out to hurt your nemesis but instead, wish to cause them as much discomfort as you were once caused.  

This is why it is oh-so-important you do not take this notion out of control.  You would hate to truly cause someone pain.  What you do want is to win.  You want to overthrow your nemesis in the game you originally lost.  This way you can hold your head high knowing you have accomplished something truly worthwhile: a sense of achievement.  

In the aforementioned example of Yak and the missing toilet tissue, I waited and hated for almost twelve months until my opportunity came: his first steady girlfriend was coming over for Valentine's Day.  He had cooked her a fabulous meal of tacos (give the little man creativity points), spread rose petals over the table and was feverishly nervous.  That day, before I left, I removed any trace of milk or bread in the house.  The poor kid didn't know what had hit him, but I did: a whole whack of hot peppers.

It was a fair trade, well not quite, but that is why I WON.

Currently, my nemesis is a girl who I quite like.  I disagree with almost every opinion she has but that doesn't mean I don't like her!  She writes the first blog I ever read regularly and she inspired me to start my own writing (at a very difficult point of my life I might add).  Unfortunately we had a difference of opinion and we both walked away wounded.  I was a tad too blunt and she was a tad immature.  She slide into the nemesis position once she blocked me from all of her social media and continued to call me names.  She didn't even give our friendship a chance.  This hurt my feelings; I really wanted to be her friend. 

I am still able to read her blog (making her visible but keeping me from stalker status), but refrain from commenting.  A few battles have been won by my army but I grow weary.

Now, I am slated to be her enemy and we will have to wait an see which of us is victorious.  If we are lucky, and the battle is well waged, we will be equally triumphant.

By now, Blogger She-Nemesis, I would be honoured to call it a draw.


Solidly yours,

L

Monday, August 9, 2010

Music Monday: Dirty, Dirty Vegas

Good morning my darlings!

A new week is upon us and I have chosen a get-your-body-moving type of video to get that blood rushing around.  If you have not seen this video yet, you simply must see it.  This, perhaps, is the sole reason for my posting this work.

It has been an all time favourite of mine for years and years (as far back as 2001 if you can imagine)!

Not much history to this puppy but the music world considers all that popping, locking and breakdancing a little, "outre", as the French would say.  The oddest thing about this bad boy is the use of two dancers to portray one character.  

I just like the way it makes me tingle.  I can't help it.

There are actually two versions of this video: the first which I have included today and the second which includes a Mitsubishi Eclipse (you may recognize this track from their 2003 commercial).  In the second version the original bystanders are replaced with the arrival of the Eclipse at a stoplight.

Normally I am against editing video once it has been released (Star Wars??!?) but who can argue with a HOT car?

I bet you would look hot in that car.  You know you would - sleek, smooth and oh so fast.

As you are dressing this morning dance around and imagine your love (Bieber NOT included) dancing outside a sandwich joint, awaiting your return.  Oooooh baby, the Newf loves pastrami.

My dears, please enjoy Dirty Vegas and their fabulous, smutty song "Days Go By"



It is certainly shaping up to be a good week.  I hope you agree.


Dirty and digging it,

L

Famous and Fruity: Here's to You Mom

Okay, so I may not be the most experienced photographer around but look at me go! I am trying to learn and any constructive criticism, references and the like are welcome!

Now, time for the fruit and flash photography of it all.

This one is a shout-out to the Parentals who have left me for Sint Maarten. That is correct folk, my whacked out grey-haired edition live on their big 'ol boat and sail it to fabulous places.

I, on the other hand, am hard at work doing very important things (let me get back to you). I am also waiting for it to snow.

I digress my darlings (something must have tainted my beverage), the point is that the other day my mother gave me quite the stripping regarding my fruit consumption. I refused to eat her fruit salad, opting instead for ice cream (big mistake). She said I am too picky, I say I am not picky but prefer vegetables to fruit.  I do not pick and choose, I am not a fruit-i-est, I just do not like fruit.

Well, being a mother she had to tell me why I was wrong and what I should be eating instead (her fruit).

Well, Mother, you will be proud! Feast your eyes on my fruity feed:


There are some strawberries, raspberries and champagne grapes!  

The Newf and I were too bored to cook, so fruit it was.  Maybe we added a little gin with that Limonata San Pellegrino but it sure was delicious and I sure am in a good mood.

You know what, Mother?  I just may eat fruit (and gin) more often.  Maybe, just maybe.


Your vegetable lover,

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Party Crashed (A How-To Guide)

On my way out for an evening walk it became deafening obvious the neighbours were having a party.

Not having any other plans (and a brand new Anna Scott dress) I decided to crash it.

Judging by the sounds (aka the bass) pounding from the adjacent backyard it was decidedly a younger crowd.  So, I quickly dropped off the dog and dressed for the bash.  A little difficult, despite the outdoor nature of the party, as the eight foot privacy fence made it more than hard to see what exactly was going on.

Not only that, I had never met these people so know very little about them.

Keeping in mind that I am not the stealthy type (you have to talk to the Newf for that kind of business) I enact the blunt method of party crashing.  I knock on the door and say, "Hey", "Hello", "What's shakin' ", essentially, whatever greeting matches the creature that opened the door.

Well, this is a definite MUST HAVE list for crashing a party like an A-lister:

1.) Attitude - No one will ever let you crash a party if you don't look like you belong.  Meekly knocking on the door and asking to come in will get you nowhere.  Confidence and the kinda cool that only comes from knowing you are just-that-hot will get you in almost any door.  Early in my party crashing days my attitude came from a bottle.

2.) Alcohol - Especially with a younger or more informal crowd, an obvious excess of alcohol is your ticket into that party.  Hey, I never said this would be free.  Unless an uninvited someone looks like a hot James Dean, or this guy, they are not getting through my door if I will have to provide them with my own booze.  I am taking a risk by letting you in the door, why risk my alcohol too?

If you've ever had to supply liquor to a lush (or a wedding full of Newfoundlanders) you will understand my plight.

3.) Appearance - I am not saying you have to be the next Angelina, but it definitely helps if you gussy yourself up a little bit.  Ladies, break out the hardcore mascara and glowing complexion; guys, make sure you shave/trim/comb/whatever it is you do.  Try to dress the part, using as much information as you have.


Tonight I knew very little, however, I did know:
  • The hosts either lived, or were close with someone who lived, in a very expensive house.  Judging by others in my neighbourhood and the general decorations of the inhabitants of said house it was safe to say that brand names would impress.
  • They enjoyed "chugging" and loud music, the loud bass told me they had not yet had the enjoyment of yelling, "What?!?  I can't hear you!" at a party with loud bass.  This screamed high school or first year university.    
  • The party was taking place outside and carefully selected dance and house were blasting across the yard.  This means informal drinking, dancing and the possibility of a pool were the main attractions.

As such I dressed to impress a younger crowd: a hot halter bikini (top and bottom) and a black, clingy, low cut V-neck, jersey dress.  Topped it off with neon polish on the toes and matching lipstick and I was good to go.  The key was to make an impression without totally standing out.  If you are crashing and blinding at a party you quickly become the one everyone is whispering about, no matter how good your game.

In my arms I carried just over half a 24 of Sleeman's Original Draught and a large (read 750 mL) lidded cup complete with my own personal beverage.

I was ready to go.  I smoothly and steadily approached the house; never go too fast on approaching, someone is bound to see you.  I knocked on the door and a (cute!) boy answered!  I smiled coyly, gave him my best "I'm just SO MUCH fun" look and huskily breathed "It sounded like you guys could use this" while motioning at my beer.  As he took the beer I started dancing with my shoulders - if I had been wearing a shorter dress I would have danced with my bottom.

He invited me in, even giving me a slight bottom pat on the way through the door.

Damn I can be smooth sometimes.

If a girl had answered I would have immediately complemented whatever she was wearing (or any other obvious, nonsexual part), told her I lived next door and mentioned my husband.  Assuming she likes boys I have done two things: admitted inferiority by complementing her and providing information she could share with the rest of the group and disarmed her by admitting I was no threat to her conquests of the night, as I already have a (committed) man.

Unfortunately the party was broken up a mere half hour after my entrance.

It was a party of young (drunk) adults, enough to know I was unlikely to make any lasting connections.  

This became completely obvious when the police broke the party up.

Oh well, not all is lost.  My new jersey dress has been broken in and now, if I need to move something heavy I have a number of young boys who owe me a favour (because we all know I am not getting that beer back).  

The Newf can certainly move things heavy but why would he when his wife is wearing a hot jersey dress?


Unfailingly yours,
L