I won't go into the details except to say that it went "pretty well". In BeaLand, "pretty well" is double speak for "will probably never hear from him again." That's because BeaLand is under the rule of Sod's Law... as opposed to say, common law, or civil law which in theory, follow some sort of codified logic. Sod's Law follows logic too, but it's more of a "what's the best way to thwart Bea's best laid plans" kind of logic. Not to worry, the old girl is used to it as BeaLand has seemingly been under the rule of Sod's Law for sometime now. She'd be happy for this particular regime to overthrown... Seriously.
And then we conquer the world. Mwahahahahahahaha.
It was bound to happen, sooner or later... silly co-inhabitants of this planet we call Earth. Oh, how we have pulled the wool over your eyes. We heard you laughing at us.
"Oh, those Canadians", you chuckled. "Look at their little military. It's so adorable."
Take that world!
With all the talk of this so called "coalition of the willing" vs. the "axis of evil", who knew that the final act of the play that is global domination would be played out between Canada and Denmark?
If recent reports are to be believed, it seems that Canada is hoping that this battle will be won, once again, by lulling the world into a false sense of security by not taking ourselves' seriously. Plans are already in the works to open up a coffee and donut shop. I suppose it'll only be a matter of time before Starbucks arrives on this tiny corner of the Arctic that no one seemed to give a rat's ass about until our malevolent and cunning Minister of Defence arrived on the Island unannounced and unexpected earlier this week. It seems that some of us in the Great White North feel that Canada is just too gosh darn small for our liking. By adding this piece of rock, all told about the size of a football field, the feeling had by all is that finally, there will be enough room for us to stretch our legs. And it's about effing time!
Stay tuned for updates in Canada's seemingly insatiable need for supremacy over all living creatures on this planet. And watch out Greenland, you're next!
Nothing really happening on the dating front as Lavalife seems to be full of "time wasters" this go around. Molly and Girl do not seem to be having this problem, but somewhere hidden between the lines of my superbly written profile is the phrase "Waste my time, Please! Seriously, I really have nothing better to do with my life" over and over and over again. What a difference a couple of months makes.
Oh sure, I did discover a fab new TV program last night... Little Britain... reminiscent of Monty Python's Flying Circus in that it is a sketch comedy with just a few people making up the bulk of the characters and that it is uber silly. But seeing as how I am the only one I know who finds Monty Python even remotely appealing, chances are not a lot of you will find this new discovery anything to get excited about. Curiously, there is a character very similar to Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys. This show is further proof, that while I love being Canadian, that I really should be living in the UK. Curse my morals for not allowing me to move to Scotland to be with some guy who I didn't see a future with when I had the chance!
And last but not least, on this oh so beautiful Toronto day where I had nothing whatsoever to say that was even remotely interesting... I was reminded today that there is a whole other world out there... a world where it is perfectly acceptable, nay, encouraged that one should spend $150 on a tank top that looks like something that came out of my Mother's closet. And that when something in the "nearly free" sale section is still over $200... well, let's just say that even when pigs can fly (and don't doubt that it will never happen... I'm sure some crazy ass scientist is working away in his lab on just such a genetic monstrosity at this very moment... just so that when someone says "when pigs fly"... i.e. George Bush saying "I'll resign when pigs can fly"... he can say "Ha, take that Bushy"...) you won't see me in there. I'll stick to the Gap and H&M thank you very much. Yikes!
I had an Orlando Bloom dream last night. Nothing in comparison to the Vince Vaughn sex dreams that I am prone to having, but I did get to meet him. He was in a little pub back in my home town and I walked in with some friends, and was like "Holy Sh*t, that's Orlando Bloom". Anyway, unlike the SDOS party last week were I could drum up nary a nerve to speak to my mini-Hugh Laurie, I marched right up to the adorable Metro and started chatting. He was super nice, very friendly and invited us all to have some drinks. Sigh, he was just like I knew he would be. There was nothing sexual about the dream, just a bunch of friends sitting around, boozing it up. Good times. Sufficed to say, that gave the old girl a bit of a bounce to her step this morning!
And then there's the weather. Crap, some people would say. Grey, dismal, rainy. I, however, am loving it. Reminds me of home. I like being reminded of home sometimes. It's also a nice break from the insanely hot heat wave that TO has been experiencing of late.
So where have we gotten to? Orlando dream, coolish weather... Ye Olde 168 Symington arrived just as I got to the stop, and a seat to boot. The TTC arrived just as I got to my little spot on the platform. Subway riders will totally be able to relate to knowing exactly where on the platform you need to get on to make your life easier when you get off. The Yonge/Bloor subway station is a son of a bitch at any time of day, but especially in the morning. Not being a fish lover, I certainly do not take well to being the one salmon swimming upstream in the face of the oncoming torrent of southbound commuters... Then the subway going north arrived once again just as I reached my desired platform location... again a seat... and then lo and behold, an adorable picture of Orlando in the newspaper. OK, so it was talking about him getting cozy with Jude Law's ex at some party... Like, whatever. She is like so, in, like, rebound mode... And who better to make Jude all pissy than another cute Metro. Orlando won't fall for it though. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
And what of my peeps? Hope y'all had a super morning too.
PS... just had word that the liquor store strike that was due to start tomorrow has been averted... Wow, could any more good things have happened this morning? A long weekend without some drinks on the patio would have been a long weekend... well... without any drinks on the patio.
Do a google search for "Canadian Tire Guy" and man oh man... who knew that he inspired such ire in our country. I mean, I knew that he drove me insane, with his
"Hahaha, oh Jim, you won't see me breaking my back shovelling snow from my driveway. Nope, I've got the Snowmeister 8000. Not only does it clear my drive way of snow in next to no time, but it also pays my bills, walks my dog AND sleeps with my wife", and his
"Oh Jim, you are such an idiot, with all of your different hoses. Didn't you know that for only 2,000$ you too could own this retractable hose system that makes you life only slightly easier?"
And not to worry, the wife is just as bad. Little does he know that his kids are going to get the living crap kicked out of them when they head to school.
Enough has been said on this subject already. Thank you for your time.
She had the kitty blahs last week. She just did not have the spunk that she normally has. It made me sad. When humans are feeling blue or are under the weather, we are capable of expressing as much. We can let others know how best to make us feel better, whether that be making some chicken noodle soup, or giving us a back rub... although I will always take a back rub... no need to feel sick for that to happen.... in fact, back rubs are the primary motivation behind my desire to meet my "hitherto unknown and probably non-existent" soul mate.
Anyway, animals are obviously not capable of speech such that we can understand so Oreo was unable to say such things as "I really don't feel like water right now, but a nice little saucer of milk would be swell". To which I would reply "I'm sorry sweetie, but milk makes your bum stinky". To which she would reply using one of them many expletives that she is capable and so fond of uttering.
So instead, she just kind of moped. She didn't really eat, didn't really drink, she just kind of languished, almost as if she were in mourning for some lost love. Today, however, she is feeling 100% back to normal, and I truly believe that she was indeed, in mourning for a lost love. And I have a pretty good idea what that lost love was.
It was tuna.
The former-PNB was over on Sunday and remarked that we live in a crazy house. What, with the roomie's cat running around sounding like a French police car with it's siren blaring, and my cat swearing like a sailor and scratching the crap out of anything within reach... it does seem like that sometimes. Especially when you are the first one to come home after work. Being the first one home means that you are practically mauled by two very loud cats shouting the mantra "Tuna, Tuna, Tuna, Tuna, Tuna" over and over again until it drives you to insanity. And boy, you had better make darn sure you give them that there tuna before you have even taken your shoes off lest the cries go from "Tuna, Tuna, Tuna" to "TUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAA, TUUUUUUUUUUUNAAAAAAAA, TUUUUUNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAA". It's frightening. Think French police car and French ambulance both at the same time wailing tunatunatunatuna over and over again. Let me just say that I have been on the phone with more than one person upon arriving home who have made the remark "What the Hell is that?", or something along those lines. Oh, and just so that you think that the other loftmate doesn't get it just because they came home later, the tuna mongers have no qualms about trying to trick them into giving them more tuna. Don't worry, we rarely fall for it... little bastards.
What am I getting at? I don't know, got side tracked. No wait, I remember. Tuna. So, we ran out of tuna last week which was, coincidentally about the same time that Oreo's funk started. The roomie picked up some tuna yesterday which was, coincidentally about the same time that Oreo got out of her funk. Once coincidence... OK, I could buy that it was just that, a coincidence. But two? I think not... My cat lamented for a week because she didn't have tuna. It's the only explanation. I was worried for a week over tuna. As god as my witness, I shall never eat tuna again!
Beatrice "not a big deal because I never really ate tuna anyway" Petty
I bring him up, not because he is a stalker himself, nor am I a bunny boiler, but an issue has come up of late that relates somewhat to the topic. In one of the first emails that Dr. Chemist sent me, he p.s'd asking "you're not a bunny boiler are you?" At the time, I had never heard the term but as I feel that bunny rabbits are very cute and I don't eat them, I really, really hoped that I wasn't one. Well, I'm not one, but I have heard many, many stories from people who have had the misfortune of coming into contact with one. Essentially, a bunny boiler is a girl (or a guy, but typically a girl) who just cannot accept the fact that a guy (or girl) is not interested in her (or him) and will go to the utmost lengths to get said guy (or girl) back. In the case of Glen Close in Fatal Attraction, she felt that boiling his daughter's pet bunny was the key to Michael Douglas's heart. She must have been wearing her "bad idea" jeans at the time.
Listening to Dr. Chemistry's stories, he had indeed had many bunny boiling experiences... so many that I wondered to myself why he even bothered dating at all. He really seemed to have this knack for meeting girls with a predilection to be, well, a wee bit unstable, I guess you could say. Poor guy. He's super nice... charming, funny, smart...
Enter Girl... good friend... and not unlike Dr. Chemistry in many ways in that she too meets her fair share of crazies. While I have met many the odd person on Lavalife, never have I had a bunny boiler experience such as those experienced by the good doctor, nor, has the following happened...
When you join an online dating site, you assume that because you are being honest (Oh, you might exaggerate slightly because you ARE selling yourself afterall, and a little bending of the truth is to be expected... ie. the picture you have up was taken 3 years ago when you still had hair and you may be now follicly challenged... don't get me wrong, bald is absolutely sexy if you wear it with confidence...better that than a Donald Trumpesque "don't you know that everyone knows that you don't have a full head of hair" thing... Bea likes bald men.. a completely unrelatedtopic to the one at hand, so we'll just go back to our regular programming....). Anyway, so you can assume that maybe the person does not look exactly like the person whose picture you are looking at and in fact, the "sometimes optimistic" part of me thinks that many people look much better in person. The former-PNB is an example of someone who is much more adorable in person than he is in a photo. Some people choose to not have any pics up at all. I find this slightly disconcerting but can empathize that maybe this person has a job or something where he/she does not want just any old person to see that they are wookin pa nub. But for a person to put up a picture of an entirely different person altogether??? Now that's just... ick.
That I know of, this has not happened to me. At least, it may have but I never got around to meeting that individual. Girl on the other hand... poor her. It has happened to her on more than one occasion. The latest, some creepy guy who labels himself Dorian Gray (which, if you know the story of Dorian Gray makes it even uber creepier)... is now completely and utterly obsessed with her. As the time of their meeting grew ever closer, Girl politely turned him down when he came clean and admitted that the picture she had seen was not, in fact, him... but she was still willing to talk to him if he sent her a real picture... Wow, now that is super nice. Here, a guy had just blatantly lied to someone and because they are genuinely a good person, is willing to give them the benefit of the doubt another chance. And send another picture he did.
suggestion for any guy out there who has considered doing this... a naked picture of your torso is NOT a substitute for a head shot...
After sending many pictures of just his pale little body and being asked politely to never contact her again, his communication has now passed the boundary of impropriety to the point that it's now quite frightening. He sent a picture today that I was going to post**, but my modesty prevents it. There is no place for pubic hair on Beatrice Petty... Why oh why does this happen??? No stranger to having a stalker herself, Bea can totally empathize. I made light of mine on my blog, but it still didn't make it any less scary for me. At least he never sent me naked pictures of himself sans head... Seriously, who takes naked pictures of themselves?
Luckily, my stalker up and moved out of the country shortly after he started and I have only heard from him a couple of times since... mostly inviting me to join one one of his friend's networks. Thanks, but no thanks. Obviously Girl's nut job isn't getting the hint. Poor Girl. If anyone has any suggestions on how to get an obsessed fruitcake to leave you alone, I know we would both like to hear it. My solution was to just pretend that it wasn't happening, to not return phone calls, or emails etc... I was lucky, it could have been much worse, considering he knew the general area where I lived and my transportation route home etc... I did change the timing of my travel for a while but it would still not have been difficult to find me... After all, I am so gosh darn adorable that I tend to stand out in a crowd (don't worry, my eyes are rolling). At any rate, the whole thing is very disconcerting...
What of your stalker/bunny boiler experiences? We have all had them at one time or another. Might make Girl feel a whole lot better to know that she isn't alone...
** Due to popular demand, you can find the picture here. Don't be gettin' all jealous of Girl now!
1. What are the 3 stupidest things you've ever done in your life?
1. Perm my hair when I was younger. Perms together with my liberal use of Sun-in? Yikes. Can you say Annie?
2. Stop working out.
3. Not taken university seriously enough.
2. At the current moment, who has the most influence in your life?
3. If you were given a time machine that functioned, and you were allowed to only pick up five people to dine with, who would you pick?
1. Imhotep... architect to the earliest Pharoahs of the Old Kingdom of Egypt. I've got some theories that I desperately want to run by him.
2. Any member of Monty Python (assuming that this time machine also picked up people who were also alive, if not... Graham Chapman will do very nicely).
3. Herodotus... Oh, the stories he could tell.
4. Jane Austen (as someone who bases her characters on people she knows... I NEED to know who, if anyone she based Mr. Darcy on).
5. King Arthur. Personal reasons.
4. If you had three wishes that were not supernatural, what would they be?
1. To get my creative mojo back.
2. To get back into shape without having to get my fat ass to the gym... I know, this must be done, sans magique. So mote it be.
3. To be able to sleep like normal insomnia-free people.
5. Someone is visiting your hometown/place where you live at the moment. Name two things you regret your city not having, and two things people should avoid.
I WISH Toronto HAD
Micro-brewed British Columbia beers and
Clean, fresh air.
AVOID IN Toronto
The neighbourhood I live in and
China Town in the summer. Stinkeroo.
6. Name one event that has changed your life.
Living outside of Canada. Doing this made me understand what it is to be Canadian. To see how people from different parts of the world view Canada and Canadians, not to mention how great we have it here... I never want to NOT be Canadian, wherever my adventure in life takes me. I AM CANADIAN!
ps. Sorry... led a sheltered life.
I am not going to tag anyone, but I would love to know people's thoughts re: #3... If you had a time machine and could pick up some peeps to dine with... I reckon that can tell me a lot about y'all. Chalk it up to my grand desire to learn more about human nature.
Here are the facts:
Fact no.1. Hugh Laurie has a doppelganger.
Fact no.2 Hugh Laurie's doppelganger lives in Toronto (he's also a corporate banker, but that is neither here nor there).
Fact no.3. Hugh Laurie's doppelganger attends the Six Degrees of Separation parties.
Fact no.4. Hugh Laurie's doppelganger is a total nerd.
Fact no.5. Beatrice thinks Hugh Laurie's doppelganger is, like, the most adorable nerd ever!
Fact no.6. Beatrice wants to date a nerd.
It's all true. All of it. The party last night was sort of a flop, for what it was supposed to be anyway. Totally wrong venue. It was too big and no one really knew who was there for the SDOS to-do or who was there for the "alleged" 3$ drinks. That's not to say that it wasn't fun... but... ooh, I am so ashamed to say this. Last night was the night that Bea lost her nerve.
I had really hoped that my mini-Hugh was going to be there last night. And he was. And Molly tried with all her might to get that party started, but it was not in the cards. Of course, it did not help whatsoever that whenever Molly attempted to drag me over to where mini-Hugh was, I would put up such a fight that I surely attracted more attention to myself than not. It also didn't help that, despite his extreme nerdiness (I didn't think you could buy pants that sat that high up anymore... or Hush Puppy loafers even), he was always surrounded by a gaggle of girls. It's not fair. That's what the zebras and metros are for... you can have all of them... leave the nerds for meeeeeeee. Could I be a bigger baby? I think not.
At any rate, I met lots of nice people (thanks Girl et al.). I met some crazy people (don't be talking to me about being 28 and your life not worth living because you are single. That sh*t's just bananas!). And then I left.
Anyone know where I can find some nerds?
Lucky Spinster meme'd me for this meme.
Inquiring minds want to know....
What is on Beatrice's desk? **
(**please note, this happy gentleman is NOT on my desk. Sadly)
From Left to Right
2) Fax from the University of Madrid sent erroneously to our organization. Note to self: check on progress of translation letter informing them that they sent it to the wrong place.
3) Meridian 2 Line telephone. When one incoming call is just not enough.
4) Rolodex full of people's contact info that I will never need to use. What do you think Outlook is for?
5) Uniball Vision fine tip pen. Colour: purple.
6) One Labtec speaker.
7) SyncMaster 710v flat screen monitor.
8) The other Labtec speaker.
9) "Sign Here" Post-it thingies.
10) Kleenex box full of elastic bands.
11) Mouse with a red light that lights up when you use it. Teehee.
12) Tim Hortons' coffee mug. Oh Canada...
13) Office Caddy 3000... highlighters, pens, ruler, liquid paper, stapler etc...
14) Box of 30th generation recycled Kleenex-like tissue. You better hope your nose ain't running!!! Ever!
15) More files.
16) Labels. Avery 05162 AND 05366. I've got all the bases covered.
17) Two tickets to the Live 8 Concert in Barrie from July 2nd.
18) Yet more files.
Aren't you glad you asked???
Mollyblogger, Guy With the Hat, Sir John (Molly, you'll let him know yes?), Courtney.
On your marks, get set, GO!
2) Tonight will have Beatrice, Molly, Girl and others attending another "Six Degrees of Separation" partay downtown at C Lounge. Here's hoping that I have a wee bit more luck doing things the old fashioned way than I've been having on LuciferLife. About given up on that thing I have. After a discussion at the Maddy last night, it is my firm belief that while I had a good run on the above mentioned online dating service a while back, that sometimes you just need to let a sleeping horse die. Or is that sleeping dogs lie? I always get them mixed up.
3) I really, really, really want to go to the Zoo this weekend. Really!
4) I really, really, really want to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory this weekend.
5) So You Think You Can Dance is my new favorite show, other than House that is... Now, if you could get Hugh Laurie up there dancing, maybe I would reconsider.
6) Last night, I had a dream that Kirsten Dunst pulled a little black whisker out of my cheek. Apparently it had been growing out of a mole on the side of my face. Weird. We were ordering drinks at a bar at the time this grooming incident occurred.
7) Did I mention that I really want to go to the Zoo this weekend?
So, it appears that I just might be able to squeak a date in this month. Maybe.
His name is Creative Speller (thanks Molly) and he is quite cute.
His spelling is, well, creative and it's all I can do to try and let it not bother me. I'm a horrible person, I know, but as someone who was reading and writing at a 5th grade level when I was in grade 1, spelling is something important to me. Some people judge others based on looks, others by how much money someone makes or the way they dress, don't smell like horse dung etc... I prefer not to judge people at all but sometimes, it's just too in your face. Allow me to explain.
We all make spelling mistakes. My roomie will tell you that my spelling whilst chatting on-line is pretty atrocious. But it really isn't my spelling that's bad, I swear. I just can't type. It's true. I put spaces in where there should be none. I have a dickens of a time putting the ' in contractions and a word like "don't" ends up looking like "don;t" 99.9999% of the time. Frequently, words I use seem fabricated by yours truly and end up looking like a language entirely of their own... I don;t wan tot becasue... just one of the many fine examples to choose from. I use "wan tot" in place of "want to" so frequently that it has become a part of Molly's and my lexicon. I digress, but I just wan totted to show you that the old gal is not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination.
No, what I am referring to here with regards to Creative Speller is his flagrant disregard towards the concept of homonyms.
Wear do you work
Hear is my phone number
What are you going to where tonight
It would only take me 10 minutes to get their
I think you can see wear I am going with this. Once or twice, no problem, but the conversation lasted about 20 minutes and not once was a homonym used correctly. As previously stated above, I am a horrible human being to be so nitpicky on this matter. Especially since the other contender for Mr. July is a 47-year old dude who won't show me what he looks like and would certainly fall under the "Looking for a spouse" category as outlined in yesterday's posting. This is a guy who went on and on and on about how wise and real I was and how he could not wait to soak up some of my wisdom. Dude, if you are hoping that some early 30-something chick is going to give you a clue... well, that's just scary. Especially when that 30-something chick is someone as clueless as Me.
Is it August yet?
I had this promising Mr. July. He was tall. He seemed nice. Quite funny. I wasn't even going to hold his IM against him. Until about 2.5 seconds ago that is.
"So, you looking for a husband or a friends with benefits sort of thing?"
Um... like... since when did potentially going out on a date with someone become so black and white? I'm not super keen with the whole csbf thing, but neither am I looking for a husband. Let's think somewhere in the middle shall we? Sadly, this gentleman was just looking for a bit o'casual fun. I thanked him for his honesty and explained that I was not that kind of girl. It's not that I have anything against it, it's just that putting that label on it before you even meet someone puts all this stupid pressure on something that is supposed to be fun and pressure-less. I then tactfully reminded him that there was a specific area on DevilLife that was set aside for people interested in such relationships. I don't think he appreciated my little suggestion. Next.
I think I am going to start my own dating site. I will include the following categories so as to make things clearer for both parties involved:
Looking for a spouse: This section will be dedicated to those who are so in want to get married and/or be involved in a serious relationship that they are willing to forgo the usual "let's get to know each other before we decide to move in together"... and "you don't completely annoy me so let's get married, at least we won't be alone".
Hey, I'm normal and I'm open to a relationship: This will be for those people who are not desperate for a serious relationship, but if the right person comes along, they'll be more than happy to go with the flow. Note, this category is a complete opposite of the "I only want to knock boots" category below. Also note that this category will have the fewest number of people in it.
I want to date a million different people and completely exhaust myself in the process. Chances of a second date are slim to none: For the guy or gal who wants to date so many different people that they have no hope of actually keeping them separate from each other. You'll know these people by the length of time it takes for them to respond on an msn chat (as they are chatting to a dozen or so other people) or the amount of erroneous information they throw back at you ("you're the one with the sister who lives in Santa Barbara right?"... um, no).
I just got out of a serious long term relationship last week so let's jump right back into another one: This will be the sadest of all the categories and will come attached with the warning "enter at your own risk". May also come with counselling with the purchase of a certain number of credits.
I don't actually want to go out on dates, but I do want to waste the time of the people who do: A couple of different types of people will fall under this category. First, there is the sort who are very quick to give you their email/msn and then chat incessantly for weeks on end without even suggesting a meeting. Eventually you fall out of touch with these people and nothing happens. The other sort are those folks who insist on trying to communicate with you when they live on the other side of the world. You may think I have the worlds most beautiful eyes, but that is going to do me diddly squat when you live in Australia.
I say I want a relationship or to meet new friends, and when hell freezes over I may actually meet someone worthy of me, but mostly I just want some nookie (informing your date of this fact is optional): Will, in all likelihood, be the largest of all the categories because hey... who would ever turn down free nookie if they could get away with it?
I'm not even going to pretend that I want anything serious, all I want to do is knock boots: The most frustrating of all the categories because one desperately wants to be irritated with these folks for only being interested in a physical relationship, but one must also commend them for their honesty.
Now all that is left to do is to come up with a name for this new and VASTLY improved internet dating site. How about:
Or something like that.
Beatrice "webmistress extraordinaire" Petty
And my theory goes something like this. Salvador Dali was NOT a Surrealist. Nope, you see, what the Art History books will not tell you is that Dali spent a lot of time painting in Canada throughout his lifetime. Specifically, he painted many of his well known works in Toronto... in the summer... during heat waves not unlike the one we are experiencing now. The Clocks you see above? They were LITERALLY melting. No optical illusion intended. Dali was painting what he saw with his own two eyes, and what he saw were clocks clocks melting in the heat and humidity of an unusually hot and humid summer in the Big Smoke.
And if heat like that can melt a clock, think about what it is doing to us poor organic creatures. Sufficed to say, it has caused more than one malady in our household of late. The heat is frustrating me for a couple of reasons. As TO only has two seasons: Hot and Cold, with the colder season lasting far longer than the warmer one... one wants to get out and enjoy the great outdoors as much as possible... lunch time in the park etc... However, when the temperature is 55 degrees Celsius plus humidity on top of that... sitting in a park at lunch becomes more like sitting in an oven. A sticky, smelly, hazy oven.
That being said, if you have nothing better to do in the evenings than sit on a patio and relax, it's amazing. Once the sun goes down in BC you usually need long pants and a sweater. In TO, you could be naked 24 hours a day and be perfectly comfortable, albeit it stupid hot during the day. That's assuming, of course, that you are comfortable walking around, doing your daily business sans clothing. Unfortunately for me (but most fortunate for everyonee else in this city) I am not one of those people. Anyway, here's hoping for a little break in the heat. Go High pressure system, Go! You can do eet!
"Melting" Beatrice Petty
PS. Finished HP&THBP last night. Will have to disagree with the roomie on this one. Loved it and can't see what other direction she could have taken it, with just one book left in the series. I will refrain from saying that Snape is about to be put on the "people who really annoy me" list. Oops, I just did. Feel better now that I have that off my chest. Thanks.
Sincere apologies to all of you who were under the impression that I was going to have a fantabulous week last week. Not that I didn't have a fantabulous week... it was just not as fantabulously jam packed with events as originally outlined.
About the only things that I actually did that I had so excitedly told you about were a) The Maddy on Wednesday and b) The Wedding Crashers on Friday (fyi... Vince Vaughn, who now tops my celebrity boyfriend list... brilliant). I did get HP&THBP, albeit a day late... and due to circumstances out of my and the roomies' control, the little day trip to Harry Pottersville was cancelled... And now.................... while still only halfway through the book... I am TERRIFIED to read any more. Knowing that some important character is going to die... all I can think about is who... whooooooooooooooooooooo is it going to be??? I am equally terrified after hearing Molly unequivocally state that she does "not like the direction Ms. Rowling is taking the story".
And on a completely unrelated topic... Somehow Bea has been automatically lumped under Molly's new "go out on a date at least once a month" umbrella... I do not have a Mr. July lined up and I am about as likely to get one as Vince Vaughn is to show up on my patio tonight... I'm sorry peeps, there just ain't nuthin' good out there for the old girl. Seriously... if you are going to start an Instant Message with me (yep... another IM) by saying "helo thought you would be interested in some intellectual convo... is so gte back to me", there are a couple of things wrong with that. Firstly, you have sent me an IM, so I already do not think that you are the most intellectual person on the planet. Secondly, your sentence of introduction (and your profile btw) is neither grammatically correct or free of spelling errors... Up for an intellectual conversation... always, but I don't see myself is so gteing back to you. Sorry. And that folks, in a nutshell, is what is out there in the land o'dating. Yikes.
(in part I am sure due to the high appearance price being demanded by the little known sci-fi actors who will be in attendance... Tasha Yar, they killed you off in like the second season for a reason you know...)
... has now been replaced with a trip to New Hogsmeade, I mean, New Hamburg.... Seems like this little hamlet west of Toronto decided to celebrate the release of the new book by transforming itself into the above mentioned wizard village for the weekend. How adorable is that? I'm keen to see how they go about doing the Quidditch demonstrations that they have advertised, seeing as how Quidditch is played on broomsticks. At any rate, this last minute addition seems to fit in rather nicely with the theme of the weekend don't you think?
I have access to an amount in excess of US$6.5 M, which I seek your partnership in accommodating for me. You will be rewarded with 30% of the total sum for your partnership. Can you be my partner on this?
I am Mrs. ERRY HERYATI (an Indonesian by birth), I am the personal secretary to Mr. Alexei Pichugin who was the former security Chief of YUKOS OIL company of Russia (Russian Most Largest Oil Company), but unfortunately he was charged on fake charges and has just been sentenced to 20 years imprisonment for murder he did not commit and is still facing new charges in Russia. Until recently I was living in Moscow, but had to relocate and go into exile in London where I am currently recovering from the injuries inflicted on me during the raiding of our offices in Moscow and Samara, Penza, Voronezh, Orel, Bryansk, Tambov, Lipetsk, and Ulyanovsk Regions of Central Russia. Since the Russian government's attacks started on our company - Yukos Oil Co., my life has been thrown into severe mystery, I lost all I had, and today, I am in a secret private home recovering from very fatal injuries and I have lost my ability to talk and to hear clearly based on the severe torture I underwent in the hands of agents of state.
The document of the above funds in question was handed over to me by Mr. Alexei Pichugin to be used in payment for his last oil deal with Yukos Oil Co. Already the funds have been deposited with a prime Bank where the final crediting is expected to be carried out. While I was on this process, my boss, Mr. Alexei Pichugin got arrested for his involvement in politics which poses treat to President Vladimir Putin second tenure as Russian president.
All I need from you is to stand as the beneficiary of the above quoted sum and I will present to you the documentation which will enable this prime Bank transfer the sum to you. I have decided to use my share of this funds to invest and relocate to your country so we need to conclude in the shortest possible time.
You can only reach me through this dedicated fax number in South London where I am hiding in exile as all phones calls to the residence where I am are bugged and been monitored, the fax number is: +447092025297 or email address- email@example.com, I will not be able to speak with you on phone for now as I found it difficult to speak, but you can always drop a voice message on this number and I will get back to you either by fax or email. As soon as I get your willingness to cooperate with me I shall give you more details.
Thank you very much and God bless you.
How very interesting. Remind me never to become involved in a Russian Oil company.
In all seriousness, are there actually still people falling for these scams? There must be, as their pleas for help seem to be ever changing and often heart wrenching (although with regards to the above, can Mrs. Erry really think we can buy that her phone is bugged, but that her email isn't... dumbass). For those of you who have ever been tempted to play along and see just how far you can go (I know I have, but thankfully for these poor little scammers, I am far to lazy to embark on such an undertaking), have a little looksee at this baby for some pointers.
I thought Star Trek was about peace and promoting the more positive aspects of humanity. Who knew it was about gouging the crap out of the little guy or gal, as the case may be?
Oh well, it's the conventions' loss... and it means that I now get to spend all day Saturday reading HP and sipping Margaritas. YAY!!!
Bea needs someone to explain to her how it would be possible for the judge to know that these people were not looking at the book before Saturday.
Do you think they installed video cameras throughout the house? The bathroom even? Those people have more resolve than I ever would. I have visions of hiding the book under a pile of clothes only to have it turn up on the table, or the patio, or the couch, the fridge even. There it would appear, taunting me, always.
"Read me Beatrice... READ ME... You know you want to... no one would ever know... it would be just between you and me...I won't tell Molly, I swear... mwahahahahahahaha".
I solemnly declare that I will not enter, or even pass by a bookstore before midnight Friday lest some errant bookseller has accidentally shelved the forbidden book.
Yours in fortitude,
What's the deal with the President of France lately? If his goal is the make the French appear even more arrogant than many people around the world already perceive them to be... he's doing a super job.
OK, so British food is not the healthiest food on the planet nor, one could argue, even remotely appealing under the best of circumstances. I am however, a huge fan of their battered halibut with chips... Oh god, here we are, 10:30 and and I would kill for some halibut and chips. How irritating... So, not the best food in the world but come on now...
"You can't trust people who cook as badly as that"
All the problems with NATO can be blamed on haggis???
I'm not much of a haggis love either, having only tried it once to make my then Scottish boyfriend happy. The haggis itself wasn't the problem, it was the after taste. Ick. But still, to blame the delicacy for all the back and forth bickering that goes on between the NATO countries is going a tad overboard.
But wait, the Brits were not the only country to bear the ire of the Monsieur... those evil Finns were just begging to be slighted. In fact, you could argue that they got off even worse, as their food is apparently even worse than that of England. I feel I must remove myself from any judgment of this cuisine as my knowledge is limited to knowing only the seafood type delicacies and Bea hates seafood in any shape or form... unless heavily battered in beer of course, as was previously stated.
But despite all the insults thrown at the Brits, hottie Blair has yet to make an issue out of it. He took the high road and for that I am impressed. So what gives with this sudden onslaught of rudeness??? Isn't it plainly obvious? Jacques is jealous. HE didn't make the hottie politician list. HE wasn't photographed in his bathing suit looking all hottie politician-like. HIS wife has not been quoted saying that her husband is a sex god.
Get over it Jacques! I'll take fish and chips over a bunch of slimy, slithering snails any day!
As stated on Monday's posting... tonight's uber super week event was TGIT TV Night. The one night of the week where I will go out of my way to not make any plans as there is much goodness to be had on the tele.
And that's when the knock came.
"Um, hello... you've been pirating cable for the last year, so, we, um... turned it off".
And on good TV night too. Dammit.
So... now we have to pay for cable. What else were we to do? I'm convinced that the Universe randomly throwing us the Moka Only bone last night meant that something else had to give. And that something was our free cable. One can only laugh. Thanks again for your cooperation, Universe.
And now back to our regular programming...
And by regular programming, I mean boys. I am seriously beginning to wonder whether all boys have become seriously lacking in the brains department of late... of course you know I am referring to everyone's favorite online dating site. Why I am still on it??? I must be a glutton for punishment. At any rate, if any guy happens to stumble across this site and said guy just happens to be in datingsville... here are some tips that you might find handy.
1) Do NOT start off an instant message by saying "nice pussy"... does not make a favorable first impression... fyi.
2) In addition, if a girl unequivocally states that she hates instant messages and to please, pretty please DO NOT contact her by this means... try NOT sending her an instant message. Again, first impressions... I personally, will assume that you cannot read. Call me picky, but being able to read is an important quality I look for in any PNB (potential new boyfriend).
3) If you do not live even remotely close, ie... if you live on the other side of the country/ a completely different country, please do not bother. You might buy into the whole "love knows no borders" bull crap, but I do not. If I can't hop on the TTC to meet you, then you live too far! Besides, I can hardly believe that there is not one single cute girl who lives in NY et al.
4) So, you actually read my profile and sent me an email instead of an IM and I grudgingly added you to my msn because, why the hell not... Please try to NOT get me mixed me with the dozen or so other girls that you are also talking to ( I do NOT work in finance dammit!). Apologizing by saying that you were probably "really drunk" at the time is not a very good excuse. And if the time that we spoke was in fact 10 o'clock in the morning, the "really drunk" excuse is so much more than just an excuse... that's called alcoholism Dude. Yikes.
5) And finally... if you attempted to contact someone once (ie. smiling etc..) and they have said thanks but no thanks, or blocked you entirely, deleting your profile and making a totally different one and then contacting them again is not going to endear them to you. True story... I had a dream last night that I had a stalker. This morning, when I logged on to LL, I had an IM (yep, an IM) from a guy whom I have blocked on several occasions in the past. I don't want to be mean, but I'm pretty sure I saw him in a zombie movie once, playing one of the zombies. Thanks but no thanks!
Beatrice "I just want to meet a normal guy at least once in my life" Petty
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.
I was thinking this morning about the first time I started working at Ye Olde High-Performance Sport Organization back in September of last year. It was a crazy, crazy week. In addition to learning a whole new job in a whole new environment, I was also volunteering every night at the Toronto International Film Festival. Good times but man oh man, was I ever tired.
Cut to present day. Today is the first day in my new role and once again I find my first week to be chopper block full of excitement. I can't remember the last time so much fun stuff was going on in one week.
In a nutshell:
Monday: tentatively going to see Much Ado About Nothing in High Park... of course, I am not sure how keen I am about seeing it in 40 degree Celsius heat...
Tuesday: TGIT TV Night. Canadian Idol followed by House. Ah, Hugh Laurie... an unlikely celebrity boyfriend, but a celebrity boyfriend nonetheless.
Wednesday: The patio at the Maddy, as per usual.
Thursday: 2005 Toronto International Film Festival volunteer orientation. Has year gone by already? Here's hoping for more celebrity BFs in attendance-- Mr. Darcy is looking pretty lonely on our refrigerator as of late!
Friday: Will attend The Wedding Crashers with the roomie.
The most exciting day in 2 years is almost upon us folks. Friday midnight is the release of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. With pre-purchased copies already under our belt, we will sprint from the movie to attend an evening of Harry Potter festivities at the bookstore from whence I purchased the books. The roomie and I are fully looking forward to be the oldest "non-parents" in attendance. Yippee!
Saturday: At the risk of sounding like an even bigger dork than I already do after expounding my excitement regarding the release of a simple childrens' book...this weekend is Toronto Trek, the weekend when all the freaks and geeks come out to play. The plan is to mosey on down to that and attend my first Star Trek convention. Words cannot express how much this means to me.
Sunday: reading HP on the patio. I am hard pressed to think of any event that would entice me to do anything but sit on my arse and read. Anyone up for a little book party? I am very good at reading out loud. I do the voices and everything.
Oh Lord. Is there any chance that anyone will still think I am moderately cool after this posting??? I'm thinking it will be a bloody miracle if I see any of you again after today.
I don't know, but whatever it is, I seem to have it. Spending 3 straight days in the sun last weekend has seemingly led to my scalp shedding layer upon layer of skin, not unlike a snake. Truth be told, I look like I have the worst case of dandruff in the history of the condition. And were it not for the fact that the scalp is flaking off in big skinbergs (that's right, think Ross Ice Shield breaking off in Antarctica, but instead of ice, it's skin from my head), I would run straight out and pick up the biggest bottle of Head and Shoulders I could find.
Does anyone know how best to mend an extreme case of Epidermal Degeneration? Or do I just have to wait this out?
Thank you, in advance, for your cooperation in this matter.
Vin Diesel what the *#@! were you thinking???
The roomie and I decided to partake in a little eye candy flick last night. It had Vin Diesel, a particular favorite of Molly's, but I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers either. Vin Diesel doing a family comedy? I was willing to give it a chance.
I cannot get the vision of XXX singing the Peter the Panda song (think "I'm a Little Teapot") and doing little bunny hops, out of my brain. It was just wrong. All of it! When I think/fantasize about Vin, I don't want to hear babies farting or have him say "googoogaga". I just DON'T. This movie single handedly ruined any future Vin Diesel sex dreams that I was destined to have. That being said, even without hottie Vin, the movie would have been metarded.
Thank You Disney for that 1 hour and 47 minutes of my life that I will never get back!
During the movie last night, Molly turned to me and casually mentioned that The Pacifier was, in fact, probably the worst movie ever made. I disagreed for I felt that there had to be a worse movie, but I was hard pressed to come up with any other ideas. Upon further examination of this issue, my brain did come up with some terrible stinkeroos from past years.
The Talented Mr. Ripley... had the potential to be good and it wasn't so bad until the last half hour or so. This was a case of a movie that should have ended about 2 hours in, and there was an ending they could have chosen... but they did not. I saw this movie with Wee. As the last scene was ending, it was all we could do to not burst out laughing... but then we could hold it no longer. We ran out of the theatre laughing hysterically. That had neither happened before nor has it happened since.
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band... Peter Frampton and The Bee Gees. I think everyone should see this movie if only to realize that it is possible to ruin the the magic of The Beatles.
Eyes Wide Shut... truly no point to this movie whatsoever!
Napoleon Dynamite... Already discussed in a prior posting.
Mean Girls... Lindsay Lohan. In the words of one of the kids from the movie last night... She is one SKANKY cookie (why a screenwriter would think it's appropriate to describe a girl guide cookie as "skanky" and to have it come out of an 8 year-olds mouth is beyond me)
Just a small list and I'm counting on my loyal readers to embellish it. My brain has already checked out for the weekend so it was with much effort that I put fingers to keyboard today.
It was with great reluctance that I went out for lunch with my new team from work. Not reluctant because of the company, but leary due to their choice of establishments. Just down the street from the office there is a little pub/restaurant called Scallywags.
At first, Scallywags was good to me. Nice portions, not super expensive. I didn't (and still do not) agree with their anti "non-stop pop" policy (I'm sorry, if I am going to pay 2$ for a glass of Coke, I want to be able to drink as much as I want... common decency here folks! And if you could but a little less ice in the glass, that would be swell too). At any rate, it was close and the food is good. But then I got cocky. That's when things started to go downhill.
It was the first nice patio day of the season. A few of us decided to partake in their newly renovated roof-top patio only to find it terribly busy. Not to worry, we all thought... it won't be busy inside, let's just head down there and save the patio for another time...
An hour later, there we were... still no food and no hopes of getting it anytime soon. Our server had long given up any effort of trying to.. well... make an effort. So we just left. Without paying for our 2$ non-non-stop pops I might add. You'd have thought that with us being the ONLY table inside and her only customers (there were about 7 of us), that she might have welcomed our business. Live and Learn.
A few weeks later, Girl and I decided to go for lunch, just the two of us... you know, gab about boys and our lack of understanding thereof etc... we managed to get a seat on the patio and once again, it was a full 15 minutes before we were served. I ordered a pizza, which I am apt to do on the *ahem* odd occasion/ whenever humanly possible. When it finally came, to my great displeasure, it was besieged with onions... an entire onion was littering my individual pizza. Now, I can deal with a few onions, but when I say to myself, would you like some pizza with those onions... that's a little much. Never mind the fact that nowhere on the menu did it say that my pepperoni and mushroom pizza even came with onions. I finally flagged the girl down, explained that I "can't (wink) eat onions" and with much attitude she took it away and they made me a whole other pizza. By the time my lunch arrived, Girl had long finished her meal and I was left to enjoy the pizza that love forgot alone. I swore then and there that I would not go back to Scallywags.
I think you can all guess what happened today. Upon hearing that Scallywags was indeed to restaurant of choice, my heart sank... just a little. But I was hopeful. Hopeful to the last. Everything started off smoothly. Ordered my limited supply of poppage and that came with little effort on anyone's part. Along with everyone else, I ordered my lunch... no quieter or louder than the others. I spoke in plain english with no hint of an accent whatsoever. I was the first one to order and I was sitting the closest to her... But when everyone else's lunch arrived, mine was no where to be found.
"I'm sorry, were you waiting on something?" I was asked by the food runner. "Um, yes, I ordered the Mediterranean Chicken Sandwich" I replied, to which the runner promptly responded to by sprinting down to the kitchens. She came up a few minutes later and said that my lunch would be another 2 minutes. Whatever... Once again, most of my party had finished eating by the time my lunch arrived. I did get my lunch for free though, so that was a plus, but c'mon now... wtf?
So Universe, if you are listening... I Get it... I won't go to Scallywags EVER again!!! Satisfied?!?!?!
So, a few years back I lived in Mexico. Ixtapa to be exact. Nice little resort town on the Pacific Ocean, lots of beaches and bars... Senor Frogs et al... I happened to live there in the summer. Why someone from the Great White North would go and live in Mexico in the summer is something that I have yet to comprehend, but I did and it was super fun. Hot, but super fun. There is one day in particular that stands out in my mind. While walking around the resort where I worked, I became slightly overcome by the heat. Now, everyone wore bathing suits at all times at this resort, in part because one never knew when one would be thrown into the pool, but also because it was too hot to wear anything else. I learned in Mexico that it is possible to be so hot out, that a one piece bathing suit is just far too much clothing.
So one day, very hot... pass the pool on my way to somewhere or another and it looked mighty appealing. Anything to get refreshed. So I did a little strip down, all the while anticipating the cool and refreshing waters that I was soon to experience. Oh, I just could not wait to jump into that pool. And so I dove in.
Immediately, I felt a wave of nausea come over me. This was not supposed to happen. The horror of expecting cool water but instead getting water that was the temperature of a boiling kettle was too much to bear. I couldn't get out of that pool fast enough. To this day, I don't trust swimming pools. I look at them through suspicious and narrowed eyes. I see them, plotting... awaiting the day that I will once again jump in, only to have my hopes and dreams quashed by the evil and tepid chlorinated waters... YOU WON'T GET ME YOU POOLS!!!!!
OK, so that was a few years ago. You might have thought I had learned my lesson, but sadly, I had a similar experience this past week. Toronto in the summer is not that much cooler than Mexico. Maybe not as hot, but certainly sticky and smelly. Down in the subway station waiting to get on after a long hard day at work. SWELTERING. UGH... It was bearable because I knew that in a few moments, a train would come and then... glorious air conditioning.
And the train came. And there was much rejoicing. And the doors opened. And the rejoicing continued, albeit silently. And I boarded the train. And I almost puked. How it was that instead of air conditioning, the conductors had seemingly cranked the heat to full blast is beyond me... But once again, lesson learned. Needless to say, both pools and the subway have made it onto my hitherto unpublished "things that I mistrust" list.
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.
To this wee lass, the smell of skunk is much preferred over that of those malodorous mothballs.
Hmmm... where to start? I guess I could start off by saying the entire day exceeded any expectations I may have had. We missed most of Tom Cochrane... but, oh well. Sam Roberts was great.
Brian Adams on the other hand... a little bit miffed. Dude, you had 3 songs to do. Of those three songs, you could have chosen any number of your much beloved hits; the songs that people ACTUALLY know. But no, you chose to do some of your newer songs which, although a few of your die hard fans know and which may be good, are not the songs that 34,995 out of the 35,000 people in attendance wanted to hear. Would a little 'Summer of '69" have killed you? I think not... anyhoo... next.
Blah, Blah, Blah, some crazy Quebecois (sorry J) bongo band who sounded like they had gotten together just that morning reinforced my opinion that some bands just should not perform live. Simple Plan added a little youth power to the day. Surprises for me of the day were Bruce Cockburn and Gordon Lightfoot who received some very warm applause from the crowd. Unlike Celine Dion who was welcomed in a most non-Canadian-like way by the crowd...
It might have had something to do with the fact that Great Big Sea seemed to have been cut short so that we could go live to Las Vegas... but it most likely was due to the fact that Canada is very happy to have pawned Celine off to our neighbours to the south... hahahahahaha suckers... it was still rude though. A performer volunteering their time is still a performer volunteering their time, no matter who they are... Unless you are Hootie and the Blowfish... you guys can kiss my... back to our regular programming...
The Hip were super, Jann Arden so-so. I'm not a huge Blue Rodeo fan, but they were good as well.
I do have a message to send out to Motley Crue and any other band out there who does this. IF you have to ASK the crowd to put their hands up in the air repeatedly and/or sing along and/or get excited in general... it means that the crowd is not really super excited to see you. If I want to put my hands up in the air, I will... it's an automatic thing, something you can't help, like say, with the Tragically Hip or the Bare Naked Ladies. Us Canadians can't help put out hands up and cheer and sing along to all the songs word for word. We know their songs better than the national anthem. You didn't hear them asking for adoration... we bestowed it willingly. Motley Crue... I don't know the words to your songs... so please do not make me sing them.
BNL great. Neil Young great. Jet, Deep Purple, Our Lady Peace... really, really good! Tom green and Dan Ackroyd... not on nearly enough. The surprise of the day for me though, was DMC... formerly Run DMC who has since been trying to make a comeback as a rapper/rocker type dude. Whatever. You could play whatever the honk you want to play as long as I get a little Walk This Way action... And indeed I did, but with added bonuses. Not only was DMC singling alongside the hottie black dude from CSI, but the mini-Steven Tyler drummer guy from Aerosmith came out for WTW. It was fab. Who knew that I knew all the words to Walk This Way? Not I. But apparently I do. I'm thinking that it will be sometime before I get to demonstrate that particular little nugget again. So sad.
I'm sure I have forgotten oodles... Girls??? Bueller???
Details on yesterday to follow.
However, so as not to leave you all drooling with anticipation... No one likes drooolers...
It TOTALLY rocked!
Yay, Canada... and Sir Bob too.
OK, so this is not the Canadian flag as we know it, but it was up until 1965. I am truly amazed at how the Maple Leaf flag, so recognizable as being Canada, is only forty years old. You know your country's symbol is powerful when...
Anyhoo... too beautiful a day to spend it inside on the computer.
Happy Birthday Canada!