Do you hear what I hear?

What's that? Could it be? Could it really, really be that today is the day? Is it really July 30, 2009? I remember months and months ago thinking "Pah, today will never come. I'll endlessly be stuck in a loop of July 29, 2009. It'll be Groundhog Day, but better because I'm not Bill Murray.

Why, you ask, was I looking forward to today with such enthusiasm? Why today is the day I see Blink 182. Fuck the teddy bears and their picnic. This is where I want to be. I have flasks a-plenty and an open mind.

I've listened to the new Panic! song and the only The Young Veins song. I have to say, I'm not overly wowed by either one of them. They're like drinking straight Triple Sec to get drunk. It's not awful and it's still booze.

Everyone should go to Emails from Crazy People for a good laugh about how far the human race has fallen. Yes, it is an issues.

I'm putting out the lantern, find your own way back home.

Mistakes are meant to be made and learned from. I'm learning, it's just slow going.

To take another cue from them?

I'll even have the courtesy of admitting I was wrong, as the final words before I'm dead and gone.

I've said it before but it bears repeating, I hate the Stampede.

Apologies all around, but especially to you.

My new sick obsession

I cannot stop reading graphic novels. I know at one point I liked books without pictures in them, but I can't remember why now. I'm sticking to a few authors, but still.

Sandman III is at Another Dimension Comics and I just remembered that you pay the US price + exchange there. Hmm. I think I'll have to go there to check it out when I have the chance.

The week is going a little less rapidly than I'd like, but I've come to terms with that happening. It's almost Canada Day, which means champagne and Wayne's World I&II, possibly South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut. Wish you were here.

Back from New York on Sunday night. There was much merriment and getting to listen to Rahm Emanuel speak. I'm not on a first name basis with him like other people.

In order-ish.

• Air Canada always pulling through in the end
• Early morning coffee hangs with Kathy
• Missing bags
• The Metro-North
• Booze and Chinese food
• Coraline - 'Cat claws. In my face. Bleed black tar!'
• 30 Rock
• American Apparel with 5 rooms
• Little Ashes
• Statue of Liberty
• Wandering
• Sleeping on air mattresses
• Humidity
• Angels and Demons
• Angels and Kings
• Tavern On The Green
• The W
• Rahm Emanuel
• No rest for the wicked
• F.A.O. Schwarz
• Virgin Megastore Closeout Sales
• Magnolia Bakery
• 8 Floor Macy's with their confusing Sbux locations
• $1 flip-flops being sold out
• Two Boots Pizza
• The Private Lives of Pippa Lee

And definitely killing eight million bottles of booze. Here's to two-fisting vodka!

Drive by post...

Back from New York. Best 96 hours of my life. I've fallen in and out of love. Don't worry, I'm still young enough that it's going to happen a few more times for me. It sounds like it isn't fun, but it is... and it isn't... and it is.

I finished Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader? and it was legendary. It was really, really fitting. Like I said last month, it never started and it won't ever stop.

Highlights? Calling out douchey internet fucks. Calling out douchey bathroom fucks. Falling in love with Southern charm. Realizing Deep Vs are not for those of the hairy variety. Double flasking everywhere. Last Night on the Mass Pike. Twittering. Chicago following me no matter where I go. The creeper in Chelsea who obviously wanted into our room. Drunken Family Channel. Flinching from hugs. Books on BTK. Chest dents everywhere.

It's weird feeling because I'm so happy to be back and so happy to be leaving again. I love my life and the way one time-zone can't hold me down. 

Love me, hate me, say what you want about me...

I'm so happy you're so happy
Otherwise, life would be crappy.

A nice little couplet to start my day off. I had a good weekend this weekend. On Friday, I started and finished The Christmas Sweater by Glenn Beck. It's totally a religious book and I'm almost positive the writer is Mormon. Either way, my upbringing really lets me appreciate books in that vein. I think it's why I like Mitch Albom so much. That being said, still no interest in Tuesdays With Morrie.

I have my candle going again today. It's pretty hot. My desk is a what's what of awesome. That's because where my shame gland should be, there's just a second awesome gland. True story.

I can't get If You Seek Amy out of my head. It's not good. What is good is the new Manchester Orchestra album. I know I pimp them like nobody's business, but it's only because they're so, so, so, so good.

I leave for Failcago on Friday morning. I have plans for when I'm down there that include going to a grilled cheese restaurant. Actually. The weekend will go something like this:

Friday: 6 a.m. leave, noon arrive, 7 p.m. leave, 8 p.m. arrive, 1 a.m. sleep.

Saturday: 8 a.m. rise, 9 a.m. leave, 44th Ward, T-Shirt Deli, AA, UO, Museum?, Concert, Sleep

Sunday: 6 a.m. depart, 10 a.m. arrive, 3 p.m. depart, 5 p.m. arrive. 5:01 p.m. sleep.

There is no time or tolerance for going green. No time for talking, only drinking. I still have so much shit to get done before I can leave the city. Ugh. Oh well, that's what Monday, Wednesday and Thursday nights are for.

Also, Elle's grad present just came in. Yay me!

Meghan is such motherfucking win. I hope they send their apologizes if it becomes an issues. 

Oh my God. Epic fail on the weather's behalf. It's -44 with windchill. How is that possible? My fingertips are still tender from walking in this morning. I don't care how lazy it looks, I'm taking a cab from my office to the train station. I stopped twice this morning during the seven blocks and it was nowhere near enough.

The Christmas party was a lot of fun on the weekend. The highlight was definitely talking Ryan Adams with the resident werewolf. He and I both really like him and this was the first time we'd ever discussed it. He also got to see Wilco. My jealousy was showing.

I'm currently downloading several albums to give to him, because no one should have to wait to listen to Ryan Adams.

Starbucks effed my drinks up this morning. Fail. But that seems to be the case more and more when I go in there. Oh well. I guess it's really my own fault, right? Learn me to be addicted to Starbucks.

Also, be it forever known that Meghan is The Shit for taking in drunk girls and putting up with their rambling that makes no sense. ilu.

Ah ha. Internet, trying to trip me up from telling my offensive jokes. Yeah, right.

Q. How do you tell if a native woman is menstruating?

A. She's only wearing one sock.

Q: What do you get if you put 50 lesbians and 50 natives in one room?

A: 100 people who don't do dick.

Q: How do you tell if an East Indian woman is pregnant?

A: The red dot on her forehead turns blue.

Q: Why do they call native men braves?

A: Have you seen the women they have to fuck?

Did you hear about the east indian man who put odor eaters in his shoes? He disappeared.

Q: How do you tell if a lesbian built a house?

A: There's no studs, it's all tongue in groove.

If a Hudderite couple gets divorced, are they still brother and sister?

I'm not sure if I remember any more of the jokes that Paul* told us. But he used to be a stand-up comedian. Blame him if you're offended, not me.

But when I heard the word "Brave", I definitely wanted to watch Ernest Goes To Camp. Who doesn't love that shit? Definitely me. I'm going to proudly watch Ernest Goes To Camp and think about really offensive things until I go to sleep. 

Good Night Calgary, and Good Night Adam, my friend for 5 Years. We don't need the theatre, because we have a long-ass friendship and siblinghood that isn't dependent on blood/legal relations.

A is for the way you look at me.

D is for the only one I see.

A is very, very extra-ordinary.

M is even more than anyone that you adore and love. 

Oh, wait, that's not ADAM, that's LOVE. Oh well, jugs of triples do that to you. At least I'm mostly coherent in this drunk post. Hearts and stars and kisses and love.

i still don't know exactly who i am, i never will oh man.

Well, blogger. You don't lmoe it but I've been blogging on you all day.

i schooled allison on how to drink like a woman, aka drinking a cooler in 3 seconds (read: 8 seconds)

i went to a house party where andrew was interested but i was not because HELLO! drew = the best times.

meghan is better times. caps wish they were involved in my drunkest post ever. 

theyre not. nor is punctuation. 

stupid davis. trying to get back together  with chantal. dnw, man, dee en dub.

Whatever, I haven't gotten over my crush from grade 10, yall don't know me. yall don't know my life.

apparently ill do some punctuation and spelling but not all. don't judge me?

Chicken necks?

So. We flew in Tuesday and got completely messed up. We watched TAI and were disappointed in their performance. I'm sorry you're such an enormous cockface, William.

He looked about 3 days old.

We met the usual type of randoms and then came back to the apartment and tweaked for eight and a half years.

I might be drunk right now. Whatevs, it's evening somewhere in the world and I'm on <I>vacation<i>. Yeah, I tried drunk html.

Tonight is cobra, ftsk, and an afterparty at republic? Je ne sais pas. Time for a smoke and picking up more mix. Vahdka lemonade, please and thank you.

Remember, you're only as big as your imagination. So continue to box yourself in while I wander the plains of africa and hunt big game for sport.

Oh, one more thing: I might also be an asshole. SURPRISE!
Sent on the TELUS Mobility network with BlackBerry

My life has become an interesting pop song...

But no one is singing along. Perhaps that's because I haven't told anyone the melody.

This past week has been non-stop go go go. I worked Monday night and because we dicked around there, we didn't get out of the theatre until 2 a.m. Yay for working longer than you paid yourself for!

Tuesday through Thursday I volunteered at the film festival. Since last night was my last night at the film festival, Davis decided we were going to drink rum all night while working. This wasn't particularly difficult for me as my job was to scan in prepurchased tickets and download film box office control codes. He, however, was working in booth, threading projectors that are as old as Alabama. Between him, me, and another guy named Chad, we finished off half a 26 of white rum.

Apparently that wasn't enough for us. No, we had to go consume more alcoholic beverages at a place called Bottlescrew Bill's. They're famous for Around The World In Eighty Beers. If you finish all eighty beers in a year, you get a plaque with your name on it. A boy from my office finished them in a matter of two months. It was kind of awesome. Anyway, last night we slammed back beer, shots consisting of Pear, Creme de Menthe, and Sambuca, as well as Sour Jacks at the end of the night and vodka slimes. This still was not enough for us! We went back to Davis' friend's place and continued to drink vodka, rum, and something called Wild Turkey, which Davis made exceptionally strong and I didn't finish. He took one sip at the end of the night and said "I am so damn proud of you for even making it halfway through that cup, Mindy."

We stumbled out of there just after 3 a.m., two drinks and a whole lot of Michael Jackson later. Funnily enough, when we left the theatre to buy the original rum, Davis told me about a party where he and Clements both slept with girls from our theatre and he said he did not picture the evening ending like that. As we were walking to the hotel to get a cab, we talked about how we definitely didn't see this evening coming. And then we decided to hang out more.

I proceeded to cab it home and pour myself into bed around 4 a.m. and then wake up at 6:30 a.m. to get ready for work. If I pushed getting out of bed to 6:50 a.m., well, that's between me and my blankets.

Remember that time that I would only smoke marlboros?

Me either. This past night was a gong-show. I wish I could accurately represent what happened? But in order:

1. Renaldo, giving us some Mean Girls. Madge being straight-up 50s. 

2. Not getting enough drinks but being danced all up on right away.

3. Having two gays to rescue you instead of just one. 

4. Chugging coolers.

5. Hot wrist-bandana guy being too hot for real life.

6. Meeting a pornstar and not realizing he was a pornstar until Landon recognized from pornographic material he has studied.

7. Rosalie and Alex coming to an afterparty with us. 

8. Our own afterparty being better than anything else we could have done.

9. Almost getting killed by group of slightly homophobic people who don't take too kindly to being flipped off. No, actually.

10. Underwear party with painting, uninvited upstairs guests entering in the most unusual way ever, and a group bath.

11. Our paintings including peppercorns and bandages. 

12. The most awkward morning after this side of Mary finding out she was pregnant with Jesus.

13. Random gay men being perfectly awesome to dance with. 

14. Short gay men running rampant!

15. Go-Go Dancers! 

16. Someone totally fucking calling Piece of Me 8 seconds before it played. 

17. Alex passing out on the couch and us having to check to make sure he was alive and ensuring he was in the proper vomiting position.

18. Nerdy straight boys? No. 

19. Once again making out with a gay boy.

20. Mixing champagne, vodka, rockstar for the cocktail of doom. 

21. Drinking a silo, van, and bucket of alcohol. 

22. Spoon-dancing? Something involving spoons over our nipples and Landon grabbing my breasts for no apparent reason. 

23. Drinking while watching The Gods Must Be Crazy and thinking it was a documentary.

24. The bathroom being the best fucking seat in the house. 

25. Corporate discussions on the balcony. 

And now, I think I want to go smoke with Landon, my new BFF from last night. He and I might actually be the same person. We're trying to piece together the evening and all of us have different recollections of everything but something none of us can figure out is whether or not we were wearing pants when the guy scaled the wall, Spiderman-style.

Wearing Pants Makes You Popular

The title of today's blog comes from a sign I saw today in H&M. I have my doubts about the truthfulness of it. If people were meant to wear pants, there wouldn't be the show Pants Off Dance Off, now would there?

Bygones. 

I'm currently updating from Mitchell's bed in Vancouver. It's not as sexy as it sounds. No, actually it is. I arrived yesterday evening amidst unusual circumstances and was whisked away to sushi with Mitchell. After, we watched Everything Gone Green and had drinks.

It's a wonderful movie and I highly recommend it. There were things I picked up on yesterday that I didn't pick up on the first time I watched it. One thing I cannot stress enough is that you should not watch it if you're only watching it because you think it's a stoner comedy. The cover does the film a horrendous disservice by making one think it's some comedy to watch a) about getting blazed or b) while one is blazed. For God's sake, it's by Douglas Coupland!

This is the cover of the "Unrated Edition", the one that makes it look like a stoner comedy.

This is the "Rated Edition", that much more accurately depicts the film's content.

Ugh. Forget this, I'm going to just tell you that today I bought:

A jacket

3 CDs

4 DVDs

1 Comic

And now I'm going to go. While I have the chance, I'll say sorry in advance for all the drunk dials.

The years of playing catch up have finally caught up to me

Obligatory post-Warped Tour update:

Thank God for:

1 - Cool breezes
2 - Merch guys not being allowed to charge extra for the musk
3 - Brickbreaker
4 - Hip(ster) flasks
5 - Skills
6 - Roommates with wine
7 - The best line-up since '05? '06? '07 was a dud.

I'm not nearly as sunburned as I thought I would be and except for a little bit on my face, I'm actually not sunburned at all.

I copied down the setlists that I cared about and maybe I'll figure out the ones I care about now. Best part? Someone being too busy shittalking to play their set. Oops, oh well, the kid wasn't in on the joke anyway.

Sorry, guys, you can't afford me.

I'd like to do the last 24 hours over and over again, even if it means going to bed with a hangover again and again. Maybe one day I'd get it completely right. Practice makes perfect.

I think I have strep again. This is so not my lifetime. If I get strep every time I hook up, I'm going to probably kill someone. I'm compensating by laying down and sleeping. Watching a lot of TV. I finished Season 1 of Dead Like Me. Now I'm going to start in on the Season 2, then it's totally time for The Hills. I'm still bizarrely infatuated with it.

This past weekend was Motion City and it was awesome to finally see them playing a headlining set. And I get to see them on Warped Tour. I won't go into details about the weekend, I just realize there are some things I need to change and ways I need to assert myself. This time I mean it, I'm coming clean. [While I was at the show, Jack text messaged me and it said "Someone just came on the walkie and said 'Hannah needs a new shirt' AND YOU MISSED IT!"]

Vancouver is soon but LA is sooner and I can't wait for either one. I'm going to work my tail off tomorrow at work and I'm also going to go get myself a bus pass for August. Okay, sleep for me now. 

We're not that far from voting Feldman-Haim.

Today, I got to utter the best sentence ever and it is the only reason I know the movie I was watching was a good movie. "Everyone dies except Corey Feldman."

This has been a long week. I worked almost fifty hours at the office and another twenty at the theatre and when you're not getting paid for your overtime at the office, that's kind of a big deal. Thankfully, I went and drank with Meghan and watched Family Channel. Mitchell can attest to the fact that I love watching it when I'm drunk. I woke up one morning in our hotel room and it was on, apparently I made him leave it on that while we were trying to sleep.

I needed to just unwind and decompress last night after my week. I was ready to kill someone yesterday when I was in the office. Mostly Muthu. Who am I kidding, always Muthu.

Right! The reason for this blog: If you message on AIM and don't get a response right away, be patient. It's the conference of doom this week and I'm kind of all over the place. Don't give me death, even when I wish for it. And don't ask me why I just ate five Flinstone chewable vitamins in a row, because I wouldn't be able to tell you.

Anyway, I should attempt to get some sleep before tomorrow rolls around. I don't want to die before Corey Feldman.

Happy Belated Birthday Post to Meghan. She's twenty now and I really hope for her sake that twenty is better than nineteen. 

We celebrated in true Meghan and Melinda style and ended up with a bottle of wine cooler left each. It was a good night, we ended up hissing drunk and watching BBW porn at a house party. All in all a good night after a crappy day at the theatre.

Tomorrow is my serious business day and I really don't know what I'm going to do. It's going to be kind of a turning point. At least I know I have everyone important behind me. I don't know what I did in my previous life to deserve such amazing friends but I did something right. Time for Melinda to sleep, because she's beyond tired right now. 

Happy Month of My Birth. I haven't been up to too much. Went to Seventeenth with Meghan on Friday before getting absolutely plastered with Chardonnay and Martini & Rossi. I woke up yesterday morning feeling like I'd spent all night making out with sandpaper. Obviously, I hadn't, but I had made some very, very unusual drunk dials. God bless wine and the fact that I'm old enough to drink it.

Saturday morning I had a hair appointment, so I now look like this:

Pardon the no make-up, but I'm tired.

Anyway. Off to church now.