The Adventures of Octopus Man and Cling-on Girl

Ick
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

Too long have I been silent on this subject. With the news of the pending nuptials, I have officially had enough.

The newest to come out of this whole train wreck (besides the engagement) is that Octopus Man has now hired a "minder" to look after Cling-on Girl as she does her Batman Returns promos.

Pardon me, but what exactly does a "minder" do? Re"mind" Cling-on Girl of her undying love for Octopus Man? I'm of the opinion that if you have to pay someone to re"mind" the love of your life that they love you, that there is something not right in the relationship. And by relationship, I mean publicity stunt.

I'm sorry, I am just not buying it. Perhaps it's because I am not into Public Displays of Affection. I've always felt that people who are touchy-feely-kissy in public are trying to prove only to themselves that they are in love. Of course, yours truly has been known to snog in public, but never without having consumed copious amounts of alcoholic substances first... cough... Bathurst Street... I suppose it's entirely possible that the happy couple is sloshed 99% of the time. It would explain a lot.

In some ways, the whole situation is reminiscent of men with small youknowwhat's buying larger than life vehicles or overcompensating with pumping iron/steroids. There is an air of insecurity and desperation about the whole affair.

The roomie would argue that it is well known in the entertainment industry that Octopus Man is not big into the fairer sex. This could also explain the non-stop PDA that we are bombarded with on a daily basis.

"I can't be gay if I am attached at the hip to a girl."

At any rate, whatever the deal is, it's just really, really, really annoying. So much so, that it has inspired me to write a haiku.

(for those who are fairly new to BP... good for you, the old BP, when written in Vic when she had a bf was decidedly bland... a regular feature used to be my honkus or driving inspired haikus such as:

Ode to the Left Turn Signal

Old person driving
Can you not hear that ticking?
Please, stop the blinking!)

Anyway, please allow me to present this CelebrityKu entitled:

Gag Me With A Spoon

Grope, grope, kissy-face.
Publicity stunt? Never.
Go see our films, NOW!

Beatrice (better now that I have gotten it out of my system) Petty

Dead Sexy

Is not me right now. I made it through pretty much the entire winter without getting sick, Had a couple of icky days, but nothing like this. I think it's allergies, but having never had allergies EVER...

... actually, I am allergic to seafood... mostly psychosomatic I am sure, but try telling that to my friend RB who had to pretty much replace his couch after the smoked salmon pasta incident...

Anyway, never having had hay fever and those other fun seasonal thangs, I'm only assuming that that is what it is. So far, my favorite has been my constant weepy right eye. It's super fun. Even more fun when you see a former-PNB... not THE former potential new boyfriend aka ULH... another one, from before his time... This completely adorable English chemist... I saw him for the first time in 8 months at the Maddy Paddy last night. I looked quite the picture of loveliness with my water-tap eye and snotty raw nose. Adorable. It's not like I was wanting to impress or that I am interested in him romantically, I just wanted to look semi-decent. One always wants a former potential to think "Damn... now WHY wasn't I interested???"... as opposed to "Yikes... dodged that bullet. Phew". Sadly, last night was the latter. Sigh.

On top of that, over fears of grossing out the Bare Naked Ladies at the event I was supposed to volunteer at tomorrow, I have decided to bow out. So upset, but what's to be done? I don't think anyone wants to be served hors d'oeurves from Weepy McSnot. I know I wouldn't. Fingers crossed that I will feel better for the party on Saturday.

Laters,
Red-Eye McRunny

Hey Mama

Just a quick mention of the disaster that was the Blue Jays game last night... they were slaughtered by the Cardinals. The only highlight of the evening was seeing Bruce Willis sitting not 50 feet away from us in one of the boxes. I learned that Bruce Willis is more popular with Blue Jays fans than Ben Affleck is. Actually, Bruce Willis was more popular last night than the Blue Jays themselves were... maybe that'll teach them to play a bit better. Yikes.

So, the party is just 3 sleeps away. Yay... and not so yay. If you would be so kind as to let me take you back in time, I will tell you why.

Cut to:

Last Saturday night, driving along Bloor Street en route to the Danforth with da boyz. One of said boyz was my good friend Timmy... great guy, lots of fun, loves to sing, great voice... his rendition of Edelweiss is to die for. He starts in with Hey Mama by the Black-Eyed Peas. In theory, this is good, because it is a great song. In theory.

In theory, it helps that, if you are going to sing a song, you should know the words. The next 20 minutes went as follows.

Hey Mama....

Mama...

Mama...

La la LA la la la... Hey Mama

Mama...

Mama...

Mama...

Hey Mama...

La la LA la la la...

Mama...

Ok, so you get the picture.

Fast forward to:

Present day. The last few days have been all about coming up with songs for the patio party mix. Apparently I suck at this. Trying to come up with songs that are both "wickedhipcool" AND "reminds me of summer" is just not my bag baby. Some of my suggestions included such past hits as "Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fighting", and "Who Let the Dogs Out". These were immediately dismissed by the roomie. What can I say, I worked at Club Med... when I think "songs that remind me of summer", I think of the fromage we had to listen to in the village. I am that big of a dork... sue me.

So, "wickedhipcool" eh? What songs are out right now that I know and that are not dorky? Hmmm... Let's just say that the last few days have gone something like this.

Bea thinks to herself "Songs, songs, I need some songs..."

Hey Mama...

Mama...

Mama...

Mama...

La la LA la la la... Hey Mama...

Mama...

Mama...

Mama...

Like my friend Timmy, these are the only words I know to this song. Do you know it is like to have had only this going through your head for 4 days? Two words: Bru and Tal.

This morning before leaving for work, the roomie gave a sampling of the compilation she made (ahem... will refrain from bewailing the fact that my song suggestions, even ones I made in all seriousness seem to have been mysteriously omitted from said compilation... cough). The last song I heard before leaving the loft?

Hey Mama...

Mama...

Mama...

Mama...

Mama...

La la LA la la la.

The World According to Bea

Tickle fights that cause you to dive headlong into the fridge, thus cracking your head, can leave lingering pain far longer than one would expect.

This Just In...

Klingon
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

Some brands of toilet paper just don't stand up as well as others.

Yuck.

Sex on the Beach + 3-Legged Monkey =

par-tay
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

If you read the roomie's blog, you'll know that we are having a shindig this Saturday. Just one of many patio parties we'll be hostessing with the mostessing this summer to be sure. A North American ceilidh if you will.

Come one, come all... t'will be a grand ol' time.

Anyway, seeing as how Molly has taken it upon herself to compile la musique pour le soir, I thought that I would at least try and contribute in some small way... seeing as how probably no one I know will show up... just going by past experience... I am such a Winner. Yes, that's a capital W folks.

I will take it upon myself to provide a little something that our guests can partake in. A punch? Jello shots perhaps? Yuckafluck?

C'mon, I know you are all boozers... any and all suggestions welcome.

Tanked... oops, I mean thanks,

Bea

Name That Tune

Ok then...

The time has come to make Beatrice Petty fully interactive. I need your help thusly:

Whilst sipping java on our lovely patio this morning, the roomie had a super idea.

"Now that you are getting the *#@! over yourself", she said "You need a theme song."

True dat Sista.

So here's where y'all come in. Past theme songs of my life have included such gems as "All By Myself, "Super Freak", "the Joker", "C is For Cookie" and "Tomorrow" to name a few. Now I need to kick things up a notch. Bam.

The roomie's pick is "I'm Comin' Out" by Diana Ross, but I am not necessarily uber taken with this one... It might be what I am all about right now, but I feel the need to open up this topic for further discussion. Let's make a little contest out of it shall we? Feel free to post you comments below, or email me using the link on the side bar. The prize? I dunno, probably some stuff that I can snag from work, but I'll need to see what we have in the tickle trunk.

So, if you'd like to make difference in the life of Bea (not that you already don't, my little cyber-friends)... and perhaps get a nifty sumpin' sumpin' from your friendly neighbourhood NOC...

Let the fun begin!

Bea

Attention K-Mart Shoppers

OK, so maybe not K-Mart, but I did go on somewhat of a shopping spree today... in my closet. Long overdue was putting to sleep my winter clothes and digging out my summer effects.

Whoa.

I went from thinking that I had the crappiest wardrobe that ever crapped, to thinking that perhaps I might be able to pull off some semi-decent outfits this summer, without having to lay out tonnes of cash. Has this ever happened to anyone? Where you go through your entire closet and think:

"When the hell did I get these pants? They're adorable."

"Oh my god, I totally forgot I had this skirt."

"I love this shirt, it just needs a little mending to make it OK."

"I can't wait to wear this again."

"Ugh, I didn't give this away to Goodwill because???"

You get the picture. At any rate, I've got my summer bottoms covered, but I did come to the conclusion that my summer tops suck. This is all I will say on this subject. I can hear the boys sighing with relief.

Now very quickly as I am waiting to be picked up by some friends so we can dine on the Danforth--the Greek part of town... my mouth is watering at the thought of Saganaki, a fried cheese dish that is my idea of heaven... and then off to a house party but...

I just wanted to give y'all a "getting the *#@! over myself" progress report. It's coming along swimmingly. I am no longer stressed about the new job. I am going to rock. The first samples of writing that I had to submit for some projects came back with rave reviews. I really don't know why I had any doubts in the first place. So much so that I look back on the last month of freaking out about it, and think what the *#@! was I thinking? Such a dumb-as sometimes.

Anyway, that's one thing out of the way. And if the past week and the next 3 weeks are any indication of what's in store for the summer, I am certainly the the *#@! out there. Parties, BBQ's, camping, volunteering (BNL and Film Fest stuff)-- I'm back baby!

As for the writing... I'm sure it'll happen soon. I've jumped on the Artist's Way bandwagon and will be starting some writing exercises this week to get my creative mojo back.

Gotta run... must brush teeth.

TTFN,
Bea.

PS... WTF is up with 41 degree weather???

The Movie Star, the Professor and Mary Ann...

Yawn.

So, what does a girl who knows 5,000 people do for her birthday? Why rent out a club and invite 600 of her closest friends of course. Such was the case last night at this party attended by yours truly and Girl at The Century Room on King West. As usual, my expectations were low. I was fully prepared to be drowned in a sea of Metrosexuals. I'm happy when I am wrong, which, as the former-PNB is so quick to point out, is quite frequent.

Gathered together under one roof was one of the most diverse group of people I have yet encountered at a downtown club in this fair city. Character after character popped in and out of our little world.

First there was the Fashion Designer who decided that Girl and I were to be henceforth known as Shoshanna and Mary Ann respectively. And the there was Grenville, a world famous violinist known only in Hamilton. He carried a man purse. I took great pleasure making fun of his man purse. And then there were some very nice metro's...

And then I tried to leave. And then my rubber arm was twisted and I stayed... and then there was the mini-Michael Vartan... and then I tried to leave... again... And then my rubber arm was twisted.. again... and I stayed... again. And then I really did leave.

The End.

However, despite my very late night, and many G&T's, I am surprisingly alert and hangover-free today. More so than I was yesterday after fewer beers and a much earlier night. So here's my little rant du jour. I've never really understood the logic of hangovers. Sometimes, I can go out, have very little in the way of alcoholic beverages and spend the next day on the couch. Other times, I can debauch like a sailor and feel as chipper as the day is long. What gives?

Bea

All the World's a Stage

Or so said some famous playwright dude a few hundred years ago. He must have been on the patio of the Madison when he made that observation. The former–PNB, the roomie, her AG and I had not been on the patio for 20 minutes before an interesting character started pounding on the bar to get everyone’s attention. Satisfied that he the attention of all, he embarked upon a path on which there would be no return. I will regale you with the details in a moment, but first, some observations of my own are in order.

Asking your girlfriend of 5 years to marry you in public requires a lot of courage (or stupidity depending on who you ask). If you are going to go out on a limb and publicly declare your love and devotion to your significant other, please keep the following in mind:

8 When proposing, please ensure that your sunglasses are off.

8 Try to have a ring. If you do not have one (ie. it’s a spur of the moment thing), do not go into detail about how you are too poor to afford a ring.

8 Wait until she has said yes before you get the waiter to take a picture of the happy newlyweds to be.

8 Try to find out beforehand whether your girlfriend has been sleeping with your best friend, who just happens to be sitting at the table with you.

Yikes.

So Dude went into this long spiel about being in love… blah, blah, blah, only to be told once he went down on one knee that his girlfriend of 5 years had been sleeping with the corn-braided fella sitting at the same table.

It was a scene right out of a movie. So much so that no one on the patio knew whether to take the whole incident seriously. One guy even went so far as to pipe in “She did you too?” while Dude was ranting about his girlfriend “doing” his friend. His reaction, which was decidedly angry and genuine, led me to believe that the whole thing was for real. As did the continuation of his ire as he was being escorted off the premises by another friend. The entire affair was over as fast as it started, but it left a good 30 people all asking the same question:

“Did that just happen?”

Oh yeah, and some other funny things happened too. Gotta love Wednesday nights at the Maddy!

Bea

I've Been Hijacked!!!

Anyone know of a way to get rid of Spy Sheriff that doesn't involve erasing the hard drive??? We've tried HijackThis and it does diddly squat.

Although... I might miss it once it's gone... It's been pretty hysterical to have our IT Guru turn my monitor away from me to shield my virgin eyes from the porn site that has now become my default home page.

"So, THAT'S how babies are made..."

Bea "not a happy internet camper" Petty

The Complete Idiots' Guide to Primping in Public

Foreword by Beatrice Petty:

So, I was on my usual subway ride to my place of work this morning when I just happened to snag a seat... Yes, a seat in rush hour.

"Wow, that Beatrice is so lucky", I can hear you all murmur with a hint of jealousy in your voice.

One would have thought, but sadly, no... Unfortunately for me, I happened to sit next to an individual of the female persuasion who, it would seem, had decided that the best place for her to put her face on was not in the privacy of her own home, but in front of dozens and dozens of commuters on our lovely TTC.

Second perhaps only to sitting next to the person with a runny nose who feels that it is better to sniff back their snot incessantly rather than risk drawing full attention to themselves by actually blowing their nose or even wiping it on their sleeve... The Public Groomer is a person who I just want to take by the shoulders and shake with all my might.

I happened upon this particular person as she was applying mascara, which, for those not in the know, is usually the last step in the make-up application process. OK, she's almost done, I can live with that, I thought to myself as I sat down with my free subway newspaper. Holy Mother of God, I could not have been more wrong. The next 20 minutes unfolded henceforth:

8:20am: Bea boards the train, scoops a seat next to PG. PG in the middle of applying mascara to her lashes.

8:25am: Mascara still being applied.

8:27am: PG then applies lip gloss.

8:30am: Lip gloss still not applied thickly enough.

8:31am: Sufficient lip gloss level attained. Hair in disarray. Brushing begins.

8:35am: Brushing continues. Bea wonders how much straighter PG's hair can get.

8:37am: Lip gloss level deemed inadequate, glossing resumes. Bea notices others in the car giving PG queer looks.

8:40am: Glossing ends due to what one can only assume to be the expiration on the part of the lip-gloss tube. Mascara application begins a new.

8:45am: Train reaches point of connection. PG abruptly ends grooming only because she has reached her stop. Bea's give PG the "What the?!?!?" look and in return gets the evil eye.

_________________________________________________

Please find following Bea's Complete Idiot's Guide to Primping in Public. I ask no money for this public service... only that should the desire to get all gussied up in the most public of places strike you, that you consider the feelings of those around you.

1) Public transportation in rush hour is not the environment in which you should apply make-up. Putting on make-up is as private a grooming habit as putting on deodorant and plucking your nose hairs. No one wants to see it. Also, you risk mis-applying said make-up should the bus/subway/streetcar brake or veer suddenly.

2) Putting on lip stick, lip gloss and/or lip balm IS acceptable if not applied in a maniacal or obsessive manner. 1-3 layers is more than ample to bring out the sultry lines of your lips.

3) Please make sure you apply deodorant... bare minimum, once a day. No one likes a Stinky Steven or Sally as the case may be. Also, continuing on in the smell category, please do not use mothballs... ever. Nothing makes me want to vomit more than the smell of mothballs first thing in the morning. Oh, and garlic too. If you decide to apply eau de garlique first thing in the morning, please stay home.

Thank you everyone for your cooperation. Let's all work together to make public transportation a safer and less annoying way to travel.

Sincerely,
BP

I want my Mommy

Ickly sickles is me today folks... have nothing inspiring to write about as my head is pounding with a sinus headache to end all sinus headaches. Nothing uber wrong to be sure, as I think it was just my sinuses reacting to the first day of really bright sun, heat and humidity that was Toronto yesterday.

But here's an FYI... Do not do a Yahoo image search for "sick" unless you are prepared to see a picture of three senior citizens engaged in acts that should otherwise be left behind closed doors. I do not want to see someone's grandpa doing a certain something to someone else's grandpa. Shudder.

Bea

He's Baaaack

roaming gnome
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

Is it me or has it been ages since the Roaming Gnome made an appearance on our TV sets? The last time I remember seeing him, he was expounding the virtues of a ghastly, stinky piece of cheese.

Sigh.

A man after my own heart.

He likes cheese.

He likes to travel.

He is British.

True, he may be shorter than what I have been attracted to in the past, but I have grown particularily fond of vast amounts of facial hair of late.

Anyone know where I can write him?

Bea

The World According to Bea

What corn does, and why it does the things it does once inside you body is truly one of life's greatest mysteries.

A Personal Observation...

On a comment posted yesterday by a certain gentleman. Please know that it is in no way an attack on your character or chosen lifestyle. This same attitude has come to me via a few different people and I need to vent... ha ha, I said "vent"... remember, Wee?...

Specifically it was in regard to being the envy of all your married friends. I have also heard it phrased as "I sleep with a different girl(s) every week. Every guy would kill to be me".

Whoa.

Now, obviously I am not of the male persuasion so truly I cannot put myself in the shoes of all the married men out there, but Whoa. One wonders that if married men are so apt to live vicariously through their women hating friends, why they chose to get married at all. Because that is what it is... to treat a woman as if she were a disposable ass-wipe is really to have no regard for her as a living creature at all. Your married and coupled friends might tell you to your face that they think your chosen lifestyle is the she*t... of course they will, they are your friends... but deep down they are thanking themselves every day that they found someone that they can come home to every night. Someone who they can share their hopes and fears with; their dreams and nightmares.

When this "all guys are jealous of me" attitude first came to my attention... through a friend of mine who luckily knew what this guy was all about before she met him, she was like... "you are not going to believe this... he really thinks this way". My first thought wasn't disbelief, or even disgust. It was pity. I pitied this fool. I wondered what woman could have done something so horrible that he had decided to get back at her by treating all women like the gunk on a q-tip after cleaning your ears. And then my mind fast-forwarded to the future of this individual... when he is 50 and all of his friends been lost to the hell that is apparently, love and fidelity... and he will be alone, and unfulfilled... and making an ass out of himself being a 50 year old guy acting like a 20 year old man whore. Sufficed to say, I am pretty sure that pity was not an emotion that this guy had expected to be directed towards him. He was not impressed when I brought it to his attention.

For the guys out there who live their lives this way... good for you. It's a free country and you can live your life in this manner if you choose. We need you in order to realize that there are really, truly decent guys out there. Just be wary of the girls you choose to use and dispose of. I'm sure there are lots of girls, especially those who have yet to find their own sense of self-worth, who are happy to let guys treat them in this manner... out to have a bit of casual fun as they say. Decent guys... be patient with us girls, as most of us have encountered these dudes at one time or other in our dating lives.

As for me? Being reminded that there are lots of men out there whose sole purpose is to go through women like water makes me much less enthusiastic about hitting the bar scene on a weekly basis... but then again, I haven't been in a long time. I will be having fun this summer, of that you can be sure, but I can assure you that effing my brains out with a different guy every week is not the way to inner fulfillment... at least not for me anyway. To each their own.

Beatrice "proud to be a monogamist" Petty

The World According to Bea

I think that if I was a convicted murderess and my chief defense had been that I was only doing what my evil murderous husband had forced me to do...

That the worst thing I could do just before being paroled would be to enter into a relationship with another vicious murderer.

I'm just saying.

Getting The *#@! Over Myself

There is nothing like a good old-fashioned beating across the head to get things kickstarted. As you all know, the old girl has been in a rut as of late... see any previous posting from the last couple of months and you'll know what I am talking about. I know this, you know this, my cat even knows this.

The solution to getting out of this rut? After much thought, in plain and simple terms:

I need to get the *#@! over myself

8 Lack of mojo? Get the *#@! over it. I'm good enough. I'm smart enough. Gosh Darnit. People like me... somehow I forgot that. No more! Get the *#@! over it!

8 Stressing about the new job that starts in a month; specifically doubting that I can actually do the job? Get the *#@! over it. No one else has any doubts that I can do it. I know deep down that I can. Why I am so stressed out about the unknown in this case is a complete mystery to me. Get the *#@! over it!

8 Feelings of loneliness and disconnectedness? Get the *#@! over it! How do I get the *#@! over it? I just have to. Get out more. Join a club. Go to poetry readings, the beach, the park. Get the *#@! over it!

8 Lack of creativity? Get the *#@! over it. I moved to Toronto to become the famous and talented writer I know I can be. Writer's block, Schmiter's block... Get back to writing. I believe in my work and my ideas. Get the *#@! over it!

Get the *#@! over myself

I am so looking forward to having the old Bea back. She really is a cool chick.

Laters,
Bea

Orgasms and Irishmen

Continuing on from my posting from yesterday, had a great evening on the patio at the Madison last night. The conclusion that I have come to is that conversations that involve a lot of beer are usually more colourful when you throw a boy into the mix. Last week it was all about Donkey Punches and Dirty Sanchezes. This week, the topics were of a more intellectual nature for the most part and yet still some how managed to turn to sex.

My Brit fetish also came up, and it seems that Adorable Geek (as the roomie has fondly nicknamed him) will not be much help when it comes to quelling said fetish. You see, it turns out that the above mentioned AG... who really is quite adorable... knows many men of the British persuasion. I can see only good things coming from this new acquaintance.

So, when the conversation turned the proverbial sexual corner...

British men + sex + Bea = Wall-eyed Irishman.

More specifically how this particular blind Irishman, though lacking in bedroom skills in the traditional sense, was able to do certain things to certain other things to a certain person, in a certain way to cause certain things to happen. Certain good things. I'm throwing it out there that if there are any boys reading this, you might want to email me to get the 411 on a certain something that might help with a certain other something when used on certain someones. A certain good something. Of course, I jest, but a word to the wise... humans have imaginative brains for a reason.

Thank you for your cooperation in this matter,
Bea

Did You Know...

... That I have had this conversation verbatim on several different occasions?

And did you also know that I have, in fact, dated several boys with British accents... for no other reason other than because they had said accents?

I know. I have a problem.

Admitting it is the first step towards recovery.

Cheerio... no wait... that's not helping.

Bea

Miss Universe

A Running Commentary

My very first... be patient. Even in the best of times, I am apt to wander and get off topic.

First off, I'd like to say a big TeeHee to last year's Miss Universe... Jennifer Hawkins. Makes me laugh... quite a bit actually.

Um... so, feel very sorry for the million girls who came all the way to Bankok and got cut like 2.5 seconds into the broadcast. To add insult to injury, they still have to come on stage at the start of every category and pretend like they all still have a chance.
__________________________________________

Holy crap!!! For the first time, like ever, Miss Canada made it past the first cut. Yay. Without a doubt, she has the best hair in the competition.

Holy mackinolee... Miss Canada just made it past the evening gown. I think the end of the world is upon us. No offence to my much beloved country... but... we never win at anything... except maybe hockey... and we didn't even win at that this year. Did you know that Canada has a soccer team? Didn't think so.
_________________________________________

The swimsuits... they are white. They look like a bra and panty (hate that word) set... I'm calling Miss Puerto Rico to win the whole thing right now. Although Miss Canada has really, really great hair. Isn't it all about the hair? Re: uber losers... for ever 20 wearing a white bra and panty set, there is one wearing a one piece... who decides which total uber loser gets to wear the granny suit?

Poor Miss Peru... she tripped...

Miss USA... sorry my American friends... she looks like she has some sort of unfortunate head twitch...

Miss Israel... even I want to do her in her l'il bikini bra/panty set...
__________________________________________

And now, the consolation prizes... The only thing that stands out is that Billy Bush is a prick.
__________________________________________

Final five:

Mexico, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Canada (Holy feck), Venezuela...

Um... One of these things just doesn't belong here... one of the things just isn't the same...

__________________________________________

Completely random Miss Canada fact: Did you know that "Miss Canada" is the top search word people have googled to find my blog? I feel that somehow, I am an honourary Miss Universe contestant.

__________________________________________

Question period. Apparently, the questions come from other Miss Universe contestants. If I were Miss Canada, I would ask "What was the most embarrassing thing you have ever done after downing a 26er of Gin?"

Dude... Miss Puerto Rico... never ever open your mouth, ever again.

Dominican Rebublic... adorable. "Men should not copy other men... that's what makes them real men". i hear ya sista.

Miss Canada... She bought and read "Miss Universe Questions for Dummies"... and I would wish for world peace and for all the puppies to be happy.

Venezuela... her question sucked... not her fault she answered it badly.

Mexico... sorry girl. You were so blah, I don't even remember you.

_______________________________________

And the winner is.......................................................................

Holy Sh*t....

The anticipation...

HOOOOOOOLLLLLLYYYYYY SSHHHI***TTTTTT!!!!!!!

Miss Canada is Miss Universe 2005. You could knock me over with a feather.

Not since Jean Chretien said that we would not go to war in Iraq have I been so proud to be Canadian.

Tear.

Bea

The World According to Bea

Some people should never, ever be allowed to say the word "uber".

It goes without saying that I am not one of them.

Sincerely,
Bea

Where Have You Gone, Joe Dimaggio

me
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

Had a lovely evening out last night. We arrived at Easy & the Fifth just before 8. Upon check in we were given a new persona and because the universe has a grand old time poking fun at me on a consistent basis, I was given Marylin Monroe.

The purpose of this little game was that you then had to go and find your mate. For me, that meant going up to every guy in the bar and asking him if he was Joe Dimaggio. Girl magically became Gwen Stefani looking for her Gavin Rossdale (lucky her... or so it seemed at the time). After several minutes of trying to find everyone's favorite Yankee, Girl and I got into a discussion about what you do should your match turn out to be severly lacking in the looks department. At that moment, almost as if on cue, a rather unfortunate looking fellow approached us and asked "Gwen?", to which we both replied "No". 1.5 seconds later, Girl demanded a new name and got Star Jones.

Um... does ANYONE know who the honk Star Jones is married to?

Don't feel bad, no one at the party knew either. Sadly neither one of us ever did find our matches.

Things I learned at Easy & the Fifth:

1) If a single person asks another single person at a singles party to tell you "their story"... please do not go into a long and horribly depressing narrative about going through a bitter divorce from your wife who cheated on you with your best friend. This is not the best way to impress a girl. Yikes.

2) If a section of the club is roped off and closed for a private party and someone(s) (in the case Bea and Girl) who is(are) not invited to attend this party tries to sneak in... you(they) will be humiliatingly hunted down by the bouncer and kicked out of said private party. Who knew?

Anyway, very fun time, but we decided to head up to the Madison to meet up with a friend of Girl's.

Things I learned at the Madison:

1) The Madison should be used as a classroom example of a modern day labrynthe. Telling us that you are on the upper patio means nothing to us when we can't find how to get there. In a moment of drunken brilliance I decided to call the only person I could think of who had any knowledge of the place so we could get directions. This resulted in a little drunk dialing of my own to the former-PNB at 1am in the morning.

2) Drunk dialing in a really, really, really loud bar... so loud in fact that I could not hear the ring in my ear... is really not a good idea. Sorry UHL.

3) The mirror behind one of the bars is NOT, in fact, a whole other room. It's just a mirror... that reflects images... like most mirrors are apt to do. "Hey, there's a person who looks just like me in that room".

4) Thinking that a mirror is the gateway into another room is surely a sign that another beer is asking for trouble.

So, the Maddi was fun as well. Didn't find my mojo at either place but I made some steps in the right direction... namely in that I showed more boobage than I have in a really long time. Yay Bea! Now I just need to get some colour on the old girls so I don't blind people with my pasty-white boob glare.

Ciao,
Bea

Drunk Dialers Can Go To Hell!

Last night, I was in the most wonderful deep sleep. That is very rare for me as I have predilection towards insomnia. Totally sucks, but there you have it. When I finally do get a chance to sleep soundly, I am always appreciative when I am allowed to remain in said state.

Imagine my great annoyance when I was awoken at 4:49am by my "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" ringtone. I looked at my call display, but that really was not necessary. I knew who it was going to be... and I was right. It was my considerate friend KS calling while on a visit out west. Among the subjects that will be brought up when we next speak are:

1) Returning a call made earlier in the evening is very thoughful, but, unless otherwise stated on the message, that phone call should be returned at an appropriate time.

2) That yes, there is indeed a time difference between Victoria and Toronto... quite a substantial one in fact. This should always be taken into consideration when drunk dialing.

3) Friendly reminder that I work Monday to Friday, 9 to 5. The chances of me being conscious at 4:49am are about as good me meeting a new Potential New Boyfriend (PNB) at this Single in the City thing I am going to tonight at Easy & the Fifth.

4) And lastly, just to be overly dramatic, which I so love to do, I might go into detail about how I did meet the metrosexual man of my dreams at this event, but he was not turned on by my bloodshot eyes and bags, nor was he impressed with my incessant yawning.

Beatrice "wish I had turned my ringer off last night" Petty

The Empire Strikes Back

Re: last night's American Idol finale:

What the honk?

I hope Carrie appreciates everything J-Lo did for her.

Bea's Official Guide to Summer in Toronto

24 degrees here in the Big Smoke today. It feels like summer is here. Yay.

Actually, summer felt like it had arrived yesterday. I have the roomie to thank for her spontaneous "I need to get the feck onto a patio for some drinks" suggestion yesterday afternoon. Brilliant. And I guess this as good a time as any to mention that the "former-PNB/ULH" has popped back into Bea's life. He joined us on the Madison patio last evening. It was fun... like old times actually. Who knew? You can all wish him a nice "welcome back" if you like. He has put up with a lot of guff from the old girl these past few months.

Last night, I learned lots of things... such as, there are many, many, many sexual terms that I was not aware of. The outcome of this little knowledge session, was that I also learned that there are many, many, many sexual activities that a person can participate in that I have nary the desire to ever, ever, ever experience. A "dutch oven" is one thing, but if anyone ever, EVER attempts a "dirty sanchez" on me, OR a "donkey punch", I will kill you. I don't care if I go to prison for the rest of my life.

Anyway...

So, the Madison Avenue pub is this really cool pub downtownish Toronto with one of the sweetest patios ever. It about equals the Sticky Wicket's roof top patio in Victoria. No volleyball court, but hey... when did I EVER play volleyball at the Wicket? Wait, I did once... nevermind.

What I am trying to articulate is thus:

The Madison Avenue Pub makes it into Bea's Official Guide to Summer in Toronto as the best afterwork patio on which to enjoy a few drinks... that is, until I get bored of it and move onto another establishment. What can I say, I have a short attention span.

Laters,
BP

The Blue Jays (and Ben Affleck) Rule!

Dancin Homer
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

What do the World Series Champions, Ben Affleck, a guy making out with a hot dog, cheesy breakdancers, retardedly expensive crappy beer and I all have in common?

We were all at Rogers Centre to catch the ball game last night. There was a group of us who went for a friend's birthday and we somehow managed to score some pretty freaking sweet seats, 22 rows up from the first base line. Great seats, but from now on, I will no longer be content to sit up in the cheap section.

Dammit, the nosebleed section was good enough for old Bea before now. Amazing that seeing how the other half lives can do for you.

Anyway, good seats and great action were the themes of the evening. The game was pretty much neck and neck until the very last inning. The Jays had the last "at bat" and with 2 outs and 2 on base, a home run was hit and the game was over. Great for us, but poopy for the surprising number of Boston fans in attendance. How embarrassing for them that they keep losing to the Jays. I love it!

And seeing as how we are on the topic of Red Sox fans, as you may have guessed, everyone's favorite celebrity poker player was in attendance and sitting about 20 feet from us. Poor Benny, when the camera zeroed in on him, the entire crowd pretty much booed him. Besides a few box office stinkeros of late, he is just not deserving of such ire.

I blame J-Lo.

Here ye, here ye... I've decided that from now on, I will no longer to taking any responsibility for anything that goes wrong in my life (and the world). It will ALWAYS be J-Lo's fault.

Loss of Mojo? J-Lo's fault.

Bad case of writer's block? That's right, J-lo.

Cat puking? J-Lo's doing.

Mad Cow disease? Again J-Lo.

Bad weather? You guessed it, J-LO.

Didn't win the lottery last week? Yep, her again.

Ken Jennings losing on Jeopardy 2 nights in a row? Uh-huh, J-Lo.

George Bush winning last November's election? Stupid J-Lo.

I think you see where I am going with this.

Re: Tonight's American Idol. It think it's safe to say that if Bo does not win... we all know who to blame.

J-Lo.

Beatrice

PS... I know the former-PNB is dying to know how the new Roger Centre's renovations look. The new astro-turf is a really, really, really, really pretty shade of green. I love being a girl. Tee Hee.

Calling Dr. Freud

I'm wondering what, if anything, it means that I am totally craving hot dogs right now.

I mean, 5 o'clock cannot come soon enough for me. I'm not sure if I can wait until then to have a sampling of all that nitrate goodness.

Molly, if you are home before me, can you take 2 hot dogs out of the freezer? Thanks, you're a doll!

Bea

Return of the Jedi

kenjennings
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

Ken Jennings is back! How darn diddly excited am I? Pretty darn diddly excited! The past couple of months of Jeopardy has been building up to this moment. I am just so glad they brought him back. It's the least they could do for someone who single handedly doubled the show's ratings. I can't remember the last time a total nerd was beloved by so many people. And by "so many"... I mean me. Go Ken Go!

Sadly, I will be missing his second appearance on said show due to a scheduling conflict. I'm off to see the Blue Jays - Bo Sox game this evening... super fun for sure, but you must all realize what that means? It means I also miss American Idol AND the season finale of House. Please don't feel sorry for me. I'm sure I'll get over it in time.

At least I see the finale-finale tomorrow... of which I think Bo is going to be the big winner (heehee...before I spell checked, I had written weiner. Bo is definitely NOT a weiner). Carrie is cute, and she has a great voice. I just don't think her appeal is wide enough. Not everyone goes in for "Country Pop". As always, only time will tell.

Bea

PS. Did anyone see Tom Cruise on Oprah yesterday? What the hell was that all about? He was jumping up and down on that chair like he had A.D.D. and forgot to take his Ritalin. Yikes!

I wish...

... That I could train ghosts to clean up after my cat when she pukes all over the loft..

The noise alone is surely loud enough to wake the dead.

Sincerely,
Bea "not a fan of kitty barf" Petty

Random Star Wars Fact #87

The roomie's brother bears a striking resemblance to Boba Fett's father Jango Fett.

BP

Strange yet Beautiful?

Does anyone else think it's weird that Wil Wheaton has a kick ass blog?

I guess I just never thought that I would want to know that much about Wesley Crusher's personal life.

So,

This was to be Bea's Star Warsapallooza weekend... and it was. It was fab.

I was trying to explain to someone why I cared so much about seeing this movie... because it IS just a movie(s) after all. And I guess it comes down to family. That sounds weird, but it's true.

I should take a step back and tell you all a little bit about my Dad. His name is Roger. He's a great Dad, and a great person... but he's slightly eccentric... and by slightly eccentric, I mean totally crazy. He definitely walks to the beat of his own drummer but I consider myself very lucky to have such a good father/daughter relationship with him... as well as a great friendship. I am, perhaps, my Dad's best friend; the person he can relate to the most and tell all his crazy stories to. As frustrated as I get sometimes because I have heard the same stories many, many, many, many, many times over, I love that my Dad wants to include me in his life.

Anyway... back to Star Wars.

My Dad LOVES Star Wars. Given the chance, he will reminisce at length about going to see it in the theatres when it first came out. And when I say at length, I mean it. My Dad has a great knack for being completely oblivious to the fact the his listener is no longer listening. I, on the other hand, have the wonderful talent of pretending to listen when I am not, in fact, listening at all. Bad daughter? Perhaps, but I challenge you to sit in the same room as my Dad for 10 minutes and NOT tune out. Call it what you will-- I call it multi-tasking.

Another thing about my Dad: he does not spend money on anything frivolous. Oh sure, he'll drop 50 grand on a sailboat, but to spend 10$ on going to see a movie... well, that would be a waste of money (remind me to tell you the story of when I took him to see Pirates of the Caribbean. The first movie he had been to since Jedi. "Did our tickets just cost 11 $ each?"). But Star Wars... now that is money well spent, according to my Dad. So, even when my parents were struggling as a young couple with a little baby (me), I have distinct memories of going to the drive-in to see Empire Strikes Back. I remember watching on TV how they made all the puppets, and the Ewok costumes just before ROTJ came out, and then going to see it. And then the videos were released... which he bought (please see above re: not spending $ on anything)... and then the re-release of the videos (again, bought)... new movies, which he actually took the ferry across to the big city to see.

In short (sorry, not short), my Dad's passion for Star Wars was passed down to my brother and I, in a big way. Star Wars was sort of this thing that existed to bring my brother and I and my Dad together for brief periods of time. My Mom, bless her, just didn't get Star Wars at all... but we still loved her. For whatever reason, the universality of these movies brought 3 very different people together. We could talk for hours about Hoth and Endor... or how disgusting it was when Han cut open that Ton-Ton... and when my Bro and I got older, we could discuss at length just how bad the dialogue was or how terrible and whiney Mark Hamil was... it was cool.

And so, yes, I was very excited to see this movie. I really liked it. It was dark. The dialogue was bad (but seriously, when has SW EVER been about good dialogue? Punch it Chewie? Yikes). The special effects good. Everything was tied together nicely. My only regret is that there will be no more Star Wars for my Dad (or me) to get excited about. I guess that's not entirely true. Only a matter of time before the 500$ mega-box set comes out; a purchase I am sure my Dad will happily make.

Bea

The World According to Bea

Spy Daddy
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

Victor Garber is a very handsome man.

Yet another reason why CBC Newsworld sucks

Anchor says "This week saw the opening of the newest, and perhaps last Star Wars movie".

Perhaps last.

But maybe not the last.

But perhaps.

The last Star Wars movie.

There might be another one.

But perhaps not.

Just not sure.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Sigh.

Yo Dawg, That Was Kind of Pitchy for Me

So continuing on from yesterday where I mentioned that I get mildly irked by products that claim to be one flavour (pear) but in reality are a different one all together (apple)... Last night was just such a case.

For those of you not familiar with Classic Albums Live, it's essentially your favorite albums done from start to finish by a cover band whose sole purpose is to sound exactly like the original. I was lucky enough to have attended Led Zepplin's Houses of the Holy a couple of months ago. Fantastic. It was Led Zepplin. It was freaky. So, assuming that all of the concerts in the series were going to be just as good, it was with much effort that I dragged my tired ass to The Phoenix to catch the cover of Joshua Tree. I did not want to miss it for the world.

It started off great. With the opening riffs of Where the Streets Have No Name, you could feel the excitment and anticipation of the crowd...

Aaaand Theeeeeeeeeeeeeen...

So, much like the "it says it's pear flavoured but it is really apple" Bacardi cooler from MiXture... so too was this a case of something claiming to be one flavour (Bono/U2) but was, in reality, something completely different (Geddy Lee/Rush).



There is a reason why U2 is beloved around the world whereas Rush is enjoyed by like 5 people in Canada.

Anyway, despite the fact that this Danny Williams character seemed to consistently forget:

a) That he was supposed to sound like Bono and not inject his own sound and nuances into the songs. In all fairness to him, there were a few times when, if you closed your eyes and blocked his mullet from your mind, you could almost hear a tiny bit of Bono among the notes... but those were few and far between.
b) The words to even the most well known U2 songs.
c) That he was NOT the star of the show and people did not pay to come and hear HIM sing...

... It was a really good show. Kudos to the band (and especially a certain guitarist that the roomie seemed particularily mesmerized by...) for pulling the whole show together. At least they knew what they were supposed to be sounding like.

And here we are, the long weekend almost upon us. I need to recharge badly after two late nights in a row. I have a date tonight... with my couch... and perhaps a certain team of marionettes with a penchant for blowing up important cultural monuments. Also, as it seems that my loss of mojo has also come with an inability to read a calendar and/or movie listings... THIS weekend will be the Star Wars weekend. May the force be with me.

Bea

Zebras and Metros and Suits, Oh My!

So, last night was the big singles shindig at Holt Renfrew. I had no expectations other than to have a bit o' fun... and fun it certainly was.



We arrived to the red-carpeted entrance of Holt Renfrew to find the party in full swing. One quick glance around the venue and I quickly thought... Yep, uh huh... lots of Metros.

Lots and lots of Metros and Suits, but a much more diverse crowd than I expected. People of all ages. And it was packed... with all the girls making the rounds of the cosmetic department to collect all the free samples to be had. Lots and lots of samples. I will not have to buy perfume for the next decade... thanks Holt Renfrew! The boys tended to loiter around the bar... It truly was a great place to hold a party. In fact, I see this as being the new way to shop, period. You get the girls doing their girlie shopping with the men no longer having to park it on the bench looking bored to tears... just drop your man off at the bar, and you can shop merrily along your way. No promises as to what state your man will be in when you return, but I'll bet that he will be a lot less annoyed that you spent 500$ on those new shoes. I digress.

The ticket got us a few free Bacardi sponsored drinks, and while I am never one to turn down free drinks, I feel it is my duty to warn the public about a certain Bacardi bottled cocktail that was on the menu last night. If you are EVER offered... even for free, a Bacardi Light Pear Cooler... Run Away! Flee to the hills!!! I still can't get the taste of aspartame out of my mouth and I am always afraid of products that claim to be one flavour (pear) but in reality are a different one all together (apple). There... ye be warned.

So, with drinks in our hands, we made the "sample" circle tour which ended up bringing us to the Lavalife Lounge. Here you got to play spin the bottle with complete strangers. Of course, no kissing because that would have been wrong, but you did pick a card with an activity on it. Girl got to play Jenga with some dude while I played 20 questions with some other dude whose name I can't remember. It was fun, but I found the photographer who must have spent an entire role of film documenting this oh so exciting game of 20 questions to be mildly distracting. As was the CityTV camera pointed at the two of us for several minutes.

"So, do you like... stuff?"

Yikes. Sadly, there was no love match made for either of us. Next.

As we continued our adventures in Sampleland, we ended our tour with Girl running into an acquaintance of hers. But not just any acquaintance folks... a real live celebrity.



Unless you really, really have never watched the Olympics. Or have been living in a cave for the last 10 years, then you know who Donovan Bailey is. For those of you reading this who do not live in the Great White North... Donovan is arguably one of our country's greatest sports superstars. At least, that's what he will tell you. But seriously folks. For a brief moment back in the 1990's, Donovan Bailey showed the world that Canada could actually win medals at the Summer Olympics. Now, I did say brief... I don't want to talk about Athens... I get that enough at work.

So despite the fact that Donovan is married, he was there with a bunch of friends. It totally makes sense. If you, as a single guy, want to attract some cute girls, what better than to bring someone famous. Like flies to honey. We went over and hung out with that crowd for a while. It was hysterical. DB is a pretty nice guy. He is also quite a cheeky monkey too as it turns out-- he loves to have fun with his celebrity. And it is here that I will segway into the funniest part of the night (and no, it was not when DB's friend spilled his drink all down the front of his nice green shirt and looked around to see if anyone noticed. Dude, everyone that looks at you will notice the large wet spot on your shirt).

Like every other person at this thing, this chick walked up to talk to "Donovan".

Chickie : "Hi, do you remember me? I live in Oakville?" (DB lives in Oakville)

DB: "Um, no, sorry"

Chickie "Are you sure? I met you when you were hanging out with Donovan Bailey"

DB, barely able to keep from laughing "Really? I met you WITH Donovan Bailey?"

Chickie "Yeah, the two of you. How is Donovan? Is he here? Do you see him often?"

(At this point I should mention that the small group around DB, yours truly included, were laughing hysterically. Chickie was so oblivious to her stupidity)

DB: "Yeah, I see him quite a bit."

Chickie "Oh well, here's my card. Can you give it to him when you see him, and tell him I say Hi?"

DB: "I will certainly tell Donovan that you said Hi".

Whoa. So that is that story. They didn't stick around too much longer, and in truth neither did we. It was super fun, but in reality, I didn't see a whole lot of people "mixturing". It just wasn't the right environment, in my opinion; the mood was all wrong, the lights too bright... If I had truly gone with the intention of meeting someone, I think I would have been disappointed. But as I had no expectations on that front, I was tickled pink that I was able to experience it. One weird thing? There were several people there doing Tarot Card readings. Seemed like an odd addition to this type of event with this particular crowd.

And so here is the part where I swallow my pride. Here is a pic of me and Girl taken just as we were leaving. Somehow it made it onto the official photo page of the event... which is like, "yikes"... but what can you do when you live in a shoe?



Sufficed to say, I am a wee bit tired today and anticipate being even more tired tomorrow as I am scheduled to make an appearance at The Phoenix tonight to catch the album cover of U2's Joshua Tree. Now, if only I could stop yawning.

Ciao,
Bea

How To Speak Like Randy Jackson

Insert the following at random in any of your conversations:

~ Dawg
~ You got it goin' on
~ Dude
~ You brought it
~ that was kind of pitchy for me
~ Yo
~ I don't know man
~ Wow man/dude
~ You rocked the house tonight
~ You did your thing
~ That's what I like about you

Just trying my best to educate the world.

Bea

Is it Over Yet?

Re: American Idol tonight.

At this point, I feel like this show will never end. I like Bo, but I feel that the real characters on the show have all been eliminated. Would I have Scott back? Not in a million years, but he did make the show more fun to watch. I miss Constantine. He was the closest thing I have had to a lover in a long time (the Irishman, god bless him was completely hopeless, poor guy). Constantine made love to me though the camera lens. He mouthed for me to call him at the end of all his songs.

Constantine, I TRIED to call you, but you must have forgotten that you never gave me your number. I'm sure it caused you to sit at home every night and cry yours eyes out on the pillow. I'm sorry. A million times, sorry.

Anyway, I think Vonzell will go. She is really cute, and I really like her, but... I don't know. I just have this "been there, done that AND bought the bobble head" kind of feeling when it comes to her. Also, the feeling I got from seeing her Father at last week's show was that he was a tad unscrupulous and would steal all her money to buy more pimp hats and even bigger gold chains. I'm a horrible person.

BP

Much Ado About Nothing

For the first time since I picked up and moved last year, I have seriously begun to question and doubt why I came. It totally sucks. I hate that I feel this way. Until this weekend, things really seemed to be going swimmingly, albeit a few bumps in the road here and there.

Some comments of late about "personal space", mainly with the roomie's feeling that she does not have any and that I play big part in that, have put a monkey wrench into the machinery that is my Toronto life. I can't remember the last time I have felt so alone.

Mother's Day was a couple of weeks ago. I don't know the last time I wasn't able to head over to our wee little island to see her and help her celebrate. Same thing with Easter, Thanksgiving, my birthday etc... As someone who has always been very close to her extremely loving (sometimes stiflingly) and very patient (often underserving) family, I'm really feeling the separation right about now.

When the going gets tough, I wish that I could hop on a plane and go home. When my heart has been stomped on yet again, I wish I could go home and be comforted by my Mom, or have my Dad tell me that all guys are jerks and that I am too good for all of them. When I am under the weather, I wish I could fly home and have my Mom dote on me. If I am bored with no plans for the weekend, I wish I could go home and have a stress free weekend with the folks. Unless I win the lottery, none of these things will be happening any time soon.

My family out west, my closest friends in the burbs, my roommate wanting to spend less time hanging out, for the first time since I came to Toronto, I feel very much like an outsider. Frustrating for me as I feel so at home in this city.

Dating Schmating... where do people meet friends in this city I wonder? Trying to meet friends while dating has proved disastrously ineffective. The hustle and bustle of the Film Festival made it hard to see any one person more than once. People at work are all married and pregnant. Sites like "Friendster" scare the living bejesus out of me. After many an hour of racking my brain, the conclusion that I have come to is thus:

You need friends to make friends.

If you don't already have people to go out and do social things with, then chances are you aren't going out and doing social things. I'm pretty good at doing stuff on my own. In fact, I enjoy going out and doing "me" things around town. My alone time, if you will and I am very happy to do it... It's just those moments, like Friday/ Saturday nights when I think to myself "Gee, it would be fun to see a movie with a bud"... or "It was a really long week at work and I'd really love to hit up Schmooze for 2$ drinks. I promise to eat so I won't disappear into the bathroom only to mysteriously appear in my bed a half hour later"... or even "I'm feeling really mellow and would just love to hang out and play a board game"... it's those little things that have been missing in my life as of late.

So, I'm happy that the warm weather is here. I'm hoping that this feeling of hopelessness goes away once I start enjoying being out and about. And I am hopeful that more people in general will be out and about. Because it has to get better. I have to believe that. After all, I am not a complete social leper... I'm not missing any body parts. I can string a few sentences together coherently. I put my pants on one leg at a time... except that I usually wear skirts... I love the feeling of my thighs rubbing together... not.

Anyway, I'm open to any suggestions, and of course I'll be fine. I'm a strong gal... and it's entirely possible... probable in fact, that this stems from the fact that I am totally PMSing right now.

The 10 things that you do not want to do to me when I am PMSing:

1) Break up with me. That turns a mildly unfortunate event into a Shakespearean tragedy.
2) Insult my character. Actually, this pisses me off at any time, but my reaction to it while PMSing is magnified 10 fold.
3) Force me to watch sappy commercials. Especially commercials that involve old people and children. Especially, especially ones with both old people and children together. Look out, here come the water works.
4) Ask if I want to order pizza. I want to order pizza ALL the time. When PMSing, I could live soley off pizza and be the happiest Bea on Earth.
5) Take me clothes shopping. I gain about 10 pounds in water weight. I get uppity. No one likes an uppity, bloated PMSer.
6) Pay me a compliment. I don't like compliments in the best of times. It's not that I disagree that I am one hot mamma, or that I look devilishly adorable in my new shoes... I just don't like compliments. I don't like giving them, so when I get one, I feel I have to give one back in return. "Um, yeah, your eyes are both the same size. Good for you!"
7) Poke me in the boobies. They become VERY sensitive around the time of my monthly special delivery. At any other time, I welcome and enjoy people touching my boobs. And by people, I mean boys.
8) Not allowing me to have my way. I'm a pretty relaxed person, but while PMSing if I don't get my way... let's just say that you will not have seen pouting like that since your sister was 5.
9) Don't yell at me. Just don't. That's all I will say about that.
10) Make fun of me. I am very good at laughing at myself. For example... when I accidentally say "excrementally" instead of "exponentially" (this really happened) ... normally I would find that completely hysterical and would welcome any and all laughs at my expense... I would be the leader of the laughs... but at PMS time... don't go there or you'll be sorry. I know, yikes!

Let's see how this all pans out.

BP

Public Service Announcement

Just had a peak at my blog search stats and I thought I would do all you Googlers (not to confused with eugooglers... those who speak at funerals) a service and put up some information on the Mixture event happening this Wednesday at Holt Renfrew on Bloor.

Tickets, if still available, are 15$ and are to be had through Holt Renfrew's concierge desk. The above link should take you to their number. Supposedly, they were selling 500 tickets and as of last week, HR said that they were close to selling out. When asked what the ratio of guys and girls was, we were told that it was about equal. Having been in the cosmetics department at Holt renfrew, I am at a loss as to how they are going to fit 500 people in there... but hey, I'm not the party planner so we'll just have to wait and see.

The event is sponsored by Bacardi, among others, and your tickets gets you a few free drinks. At least, that was what we were told. The gal I am going with already has some guys she is tentatively meeting there, even before we go. I am hoping that a "few" free drinks means, like, 10. Otherwise it is going to be a very long night. But seriously, it's going to be fun.

Enough about that... let's talk about me. More importantly, what the heck am I going to wear? The event is two days away and I have no ideas save for the fancy little black sequined shoes I bought yesterday. I'm undecided if I want to go all out and get all fancy-pants on yo ass, or be casual? Being casual would go well with my "this is the most ridiculous thing ever!!!" attitude that I have towards this thing. But as I have nothing to lose, I could totally vamp out and have a bit of fun with it. I'll ask the Gypsy Fortune Telling Cards tonight.

And for all those people who searched on the internet for this soiree and found me... if you end up going, don't be shy. Come one over and say Hello. It's all about meeting new people after all. I'll be in Jessica Simpson Dessert Treats section, where I hope to snag some Bubble Gum Lip Candy.

Jessica says: "I love the sheerness and shimmer. They are just so yummy, I can't stop licking my lips!"

Who can resist that endorsement?

Beatrice

Justin Trudeau...

has a lisp.

Who knew?

The World According to Bea

If your company is going to go to all the trouble to send out spam to entice people to buy your tractor, it might be a good idea to find out if the people you are spamming live in a part of the world where a tractor might be remotely useful.

In downtown Toronto, a tractor is impractical. Among other things, where the hell are you supposed to park it?

Private Jokes

victoria hottie
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

Exactly 3 people will think this is funny.

Bea

P.I.L.F.

With all this crap going on in our country re: politics: Liberals getting their arses kicked in the Commons, provincial elections in BC etc... it's got me thinking. Is it just me, or are sometimes politicians really yummy? So, as you may have guessed, the above picture is none other than Great Britain's Prime Minister, Tony Blair. Personally, I've always had a bit of a thing for Tony. He's smart, he's dashing and he's got that gosh darn English accent. And then, um... he's also apparently (or so the above pic indicates) dead sexy for someone in their mid 50's AND (according to his wife), he's a devil under the sheets. I love the Brits. Not afraid to speak up about the things that are really important.

But Tony isn't the only cutie-patootie politico on the block. How about this little right wing conservative?



At least Tony and I have a somewhat similiar political ideology... That's right, I'm a left wing west coast tree hugger. You gotta problem with that? But let me tell you, when it comes to "secret" conservative fantasies, Peter MacKay has it going on! OO Wee, that man is adorable. Sadly for me, he is aligned with the biggest political nut job in the country at this moment... although... Stephen Harper does have the dreamiest eyes in all of Canadian politics. Too bad his children look the picture of aryan perfection.

We all have them, so let's be honest about them shall we? Here are some more P.I.L.F.s:

~ Dr. Keith Martin: Member of Parliament in Victoria. The nicest guy EVER, and so sexy.
~ Jack Layton: Leader of the New Democratic Party. Who doesn't love GQ Jack? He's adorable. And unlike Stephen Harper who is using the current Liberal scandal to get himself elected as the next PM, old Jackie boy's agenda is more "hey, now is our chance to actually get a budget that will help the people of our country". What a revolutionary idea! Also, I heard it through the grapevine by someone who works out at the same gym as he does... and where there are gyms the are also showers... let's just say that although he might be lacking in the stature department, he is not lacking in *ahem* other areas where size matters... wink, wink.
~ Barak Obama: Democratic Senator from Illinois. First came to the roomie's and my attention during the US elections last year. In some ways, he restored our faith that America might one day be a sane place. And, he is one handsome dude.
~ John Kerry: I know, kind of weird. But John Kerry in that wet suit? Yum. He just seems so... so, smart. That's it... smart. Who cares if his face is all squishy? But who am I kidding? I'd use him to get to his stepsons. It's all about the Heinz brothers.

Let's see. Who did I forget. Oodles of sexy politicians of that I am sure. Some that I left off purposefully? Let's see. Um, our PM, Paul Martin, aka the most UN-photogenic person on the planet. Here he is in one of his better pics.



You peeps think of anyone I forgot?

Bea

Dear People looking for nudity on the internet,

I hope you never change.

Keep up your searches for:

Steve Nash, naked
Nude Steve Nash
Naked Orlando Bloom
Miss Canada Nude (for some reason, searching for Miss Canada anything leads to me)

Sincerely,
Beatrice Petty

Beat Me Over the Head With a Stick

Interesting story...

About a month ago, I came into contact with this guy from the already way to frequently mentioned online dating service site. Ahem. He's a comedian. Literally. A pretty promising up and coming one. If he plays his cards right, in a couple of years, he may appear on "Air Farce" or "This Hour". But he has been away for the past 3 weeks or so. He sent me an email a couple of days ago saying he was back in town after a tour to the Maritimes.

I'm kind of ambivalent about even meeting him... yes, I really AM that asexual right now. That was until I read my horoscope in the news* today.

* news: The Metro. The free "newspaper" you get for being a friend to the environment. Or in my case, being too chicken to drive in this city. And loving the environment.

Anyway, this particular psuedo-scientific fortune telling method literally said something to the effect of "Make a date with a comedian. And don't be late".

Am I the only one who thinks that is weird?

Bea (kinda spooked) Petty

Happy Friday the 13th To Me!

Further to the discussion about Sod's Law... T'would appear that he has reared his ugly head in a BIG way.

Things that have hapenned so far today:

1) My roomate hates me and is not talking to me.
2) The Sundog, who was supposed to come in from Ottawa thins weekend couldn't get a flight and has therefore cancelled, leaving me with no plans this weekend.
3) I am very gaseous right now and am in desperate need of some Rolaids.
4) I just had to give away my laundry money.
5) I was late for work this morning.
6) I am so swamped with paperwork right now, that it seems silly to actually be doing any work, as there is no way that I can get caught up. Another weekend of bringing work home.
7) Star wars opens this weekend and I know of no one in this town who actually wants to go see it with me.
8) All I want to do when I get home is chill out on my balcony with a glass of wine... but it's so bloody cold. It's also possible that my flowers have died.
9) A very mean man tore a strip off of me because he can't get a reasonable hotel room in Torino Italy for the 2006 Winter Olympics. Dude, this so far from being my problem... I can't even.
10) CBC Newsworld Sucks!!!

Thank you for your time.

Bea

Didn't Get the Memo

So,

"From 2002 until recently, women in their thirties had the scales tipped in their favor - for every million women, there was actually an excess of about 80,000 men of the same age".

Or so says the above linked article that I stumbled across today.

Bea wonders where she was when there was this so-called "overabundance" of single men? The article goes on to say that the scales have now tipped back in favour of men.

Hmmph. It would seem that my mojolessness has come at a most convenient time. And it sooooooooooo explains why there are very few interesting men on magmalife all of a sudden.

Magma. Now that's a fun word to say.

BP

Catch Me if You Can

So, Bea Downunda finally got a chance to read the lovely advice some of you put towards her situation. I don't think it was exactly what she wanted to hear, but hey, it was honest and spoken from the heart and that's what counts. Here's wising her luck with the whole thing.

But she did bring up something interesting (as did the Lucky Spinster). Why is it always the guys who we are not interested in who pay us the most attention? And why do the guys we are actually interested in, seem to not want to have anything to do with us at all? Throw in Molly's little dilema and you have a regular little predicament.

A guy I went out with a few months back had just such a term for it. He called it Sod's Law, which basically means "whatever you do, you are going to be f*cked up the arse". I like Sod's Law. It's much more graphic than Murphy's Law and more colourful than "you're damned if you do etc..."

Is it that the boys we are not interested in can sense it, and are therefore spurred on by the chase? And do the guys who we show interest in not show us interest in return because there is no chase? Does this all stem from the days of the caveman when the urge to "hunt" was not done for simply for sport but for the very survival of the clan? Now that the hunt and chase have turned into the weekly grocery shop at Safeway, are men now directing this primal hunting urge towards us instead of the Woolly Mammoth and Sabre-tooth Tiger?

I'm just not interested unless I have to get up off my ass and chase after it.

I suppose it's better than "Where's the remote? Oh, it's over there by the TV and here I am all the way over here on the couch. I guess the channel stays on this infommercial about female incontinence".

So, the chase eh? I suppose I would be happy to oblige. I really should work on getting back into shape if I don't want to be so easily caught. Except... I was never very good at running... have they decided to allow those little Segway scooter thingies on the sidewalks yet? That's much more my style!

You, on the sidewalk... Look Out!!!

Bea

The World According to Bea

8 I think that if I hold the elevator door open for you while you leisurely make your way across the lobby, that a simple Thank You would be a polite thing to do.

Lavarant

So, I'm still on Lavalife. Why? I have no idea, as I have not been contacted by anyone of interest for many a week (give or take a month or two) now. And neither have I actually seen anyone that I would like to contact. It works great, because I am too lazy right now to actually go out on a date and make any such effort.

Anyway... I'm still on. I still check almost everyday... It really is like crack cocaine on many levels...

Oh my god... did someone smile at me? no one smiled at me... my life is over... oh my god, someone just smiled at me... and he's cute... oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GAWD...

Completely retarded but there you have it. Even at the peak of my Lavappeal, I never really liked to spend oodles of time on the site. With that in mind, almost as soon as I went back on after the PNB-Gate, I changed my profile to say NO INSTANT MESSAGES. Nice and explicit. One of my profiles politely asks "no IMs pretty, pretty please". Again, explicit.

So this morning... I check after a few day absence. Lo and behold I have an Instant Message. An instant message from a guy saying "Hey, I really liked your profile". I find this interestingly interesting because, if he said he liked my profile then logic should dictate that he had actually read my profile. AND, if he had actually read my profile, he would have seen that I didn't want to be messaged. AND, just to make the whole thing even more exasperating, it was an IM from a guy who I had already been contacted by several months ago who just kind of *poof* disappeared. No tears shed on that front... it just reinforces, sigh, that I don't get guys.

And just when you thought this story was over, today I have had no less that 3 other IMs from lavaboys:

"Hi" (says Bob who has tried to contact me on half a dozen occasions with nary a response)

"Great Profile. Can I see your backstage" (says the 48 years old with NO pictures at all)

"How was your weekend?" (says the guy who mentions the word "fit" nad about 8, 000 times in his one paragraph profile)

Since when does NO not mean no? Where have all the guys who read gone? Anyone? Bueller? Echo...

Bea

Another Week...

Another Idol. Thankfully, Scott Savol was voted off last week. As happy as I am about that, part of me fears for Simon's life. I think that if Scott ever has some expendable cash, he is going to put a hit out on Simon... It gives me the willies just thinking back to the cold glares he directed towards Simon when he didn't jump on Scott's "I am the greatest entertainer of all time" bandwagon. I'm putting it out there that if Simon ever mysteriously disappears... let's just say that Scott might know a little sumpin' sumpin' more than what he's letting on.

So, tonight leaves Bo, Vonzell, Carrie and Anthony. Ah, Anthony. I hope you had a really fun time on the show but sadly, I think your run is over. Be proud that you at least outlived SS and that thousand of pre-pubescent girls have "pretend kissed" their pillows all the while with your face in their minds (my pillow BF was Corey Haim... what the hell ever happened to THAT guy?).

You have my pre-dict... It may all be for not however as I have recently stumbled across this little gem of a website: Vote for the Worst. It comes down to numbers. Are there more people who actually take AI seriously than those who buy into the whole contest? If Anthony stays, I guess I have my answer.

Use the power if the internet wisely my friends. Use it wisely.

Bea Out.

The Price of Happiness



Is $3.50. You heard me. That's $3.25 for the Butterscotch sundae and a quarter for the peanut sprinkles.

Thank You Mmm Mmm Good Johnny!

Wingman-ternship Extended!

Just picked up my ticket to Mixture, a happenin' singles event next Wednesday night at Holt Renfrew. For those of you unfamiliar with Holt Renfrew, let me 'splain to you what it is all about.

If you make less than 500,000$ a year, you will not be able to afford most things sold there. Chances are, you will not be able to afford the things on sale for half price. My one experience at HR was going there with a friend a few months ago. She had a 50$ gift card and hoped to pick up a pair of gloves. She came out empty handed. Why? Because there was not a single pair of gloves to be had under 50$. I, of course, gravitated to the 50% off bin in the aisle where I my eye caught this very pretty little green sequined scarf. "Ooh, half off", I thought to myself. Um... yeah... half off at 450$ is not really my idea of a freaking bargain. I promptly dropped said item lest my sweaty fingers stain the fabric and I was obliged to purchase it. That day, I discovered a whole other world. A world where people have so much money that they can afford to purchase a little flimsy scarf for 900$. A scarf that 3 months later, is now decidedly out of fashion.

Back to the event. Despite being asexual at the moment and thus having no desire to meet a boy, which works well with the mojolessness as I fly under the radar of the opposite sex anyway, I decided to play wingman to a friend of mine. If I was really truly desirous of meeting my soul mate at this particular time, I would never, in a million years, attend this function. For a few reasons.

1) I am skeptical of any guy who would actually go to a singles mixer in the cosmetics department of one of the world's most expensive department stores.
2) The boys who will attend this event will be full on Metrosexual. Of that I am certain. With the exception of my token metro BF Orlando, I am not really keen on men who are prettier than me.
3) I am afraid if I touch something and it breaks, that I will have to take out a loan just to pay for it. Heaven forbid if I break it and it is full price.

Anyway, I am pretty excited. It should be a fun study of human sexuality. My ticket also gets me 15$ off a minimum purchase of 50$ in the cosmetic department. I'm hoping that there is some nail polish on sale. For 50$, that nail polish better be some fanfreakingtastically long lasting nail polish.

Oh, did I mention that there is free booze?

TeeHee

Poopers of the world unite!

The solution for all us 9 to 5ers. Brilliant!

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Mine? Well... it's getting there.

Besides having a stack of work to do this past weekend, you could say that last weekend was one of the most eventless ever. True, I did head downtown on Saturday and ended up catching "Kingdom of Heaven". And while it is not the best movie ever... in no way does it make Orlando out to be history's greatest monster. My review? OB is in pretty much every scene, so if you can't stand looking at him, then you shouldn't go see the movie. If you are interested in the history of the Crusades, you should check it out and, it does give some insight as to why that part of the world is still mucked up to this day. I liked it. But then again, I liked Troy. And Dude Where's my Car.

The most rewarding part of the weekend was starting on the patio garden. I'm a pretty adept gardener, but I did learn one thing yesterday:

Potting soil is really, really, really heavy.

How is that for a deep thought? I would have liked to have done more, but it'll have to be done in baby steps because, um, potting soil is really, really, really heavy. For now, I've got a sunflower, some pansies and carnations on the go with more to follow. Hopefully some veggies and herbs shortly. Pretty soon, I hope to have our super-patio looking like a super-urban green space. Fingers crossed that I can have oodles more done by May 28th-- A year to the day that I arrived on the doorstep of this fabulous city... boxes in tow, no place to live, no job. What's a girl to do but throw a party to celebrate this special day... and the fact that I did not get eaten alive by the city as predicted by many people back home and our crazy landlord. I rule!

BP

Steve Nash, You Rule!



Just a quick props to Steve Nash of the Phoenix Suns for winning the NBA's MVP award yesterday.

Do I actually give a hoot about the NBA at all? No. Have I ever watched a Phoenix Suns' game? No. Do I even know what position Stave Nash plays? Hell no.

Did I used to live around the corner from where Steve Nash went to high school? Yes. Do I know people who went to school with Steve Nash who say that he was a really super guy even back then? Yes. Would I not object to seeing Steve Nash naked in my living room? Yes (yes, I would not object, meaning that I would enjoy seeing SN naked in my living room... just to make that clear).

Congrats Steve! Canada is proud of you!

Bea

If I had a Million Dollars...

Seems that Balion (Orlando Bloom) had just taken the glory, disposed fo Frenchie and married that king's sister, the Middle East might still be an oasis of peace and harmony. Come to think of it, wasn't it all Orlando Blooms fault in Troy too? This guy isn't a movie star; he's history's greatest monster.

Orlando Bloom is history's greastest monster.

Thank you Adam Nayman from The Eye for your honest review of Kingdom of Heaven. You might need to work through your hostility towards Orlando though... I can think of at least 2 other people in history (Hitler, Richard Gere to name 2) who are greater monsters...

Adam Nayman, you have officially been added to my "People who Really Annoy Me" list. OK, I just started the list... and he's the only one on it... but he's at the top of it. For now.

Laters,
Bea