Tuesday, August 31, 2010

She's baaack.

I have returned and I have work up to my eyeballs. One of which also containes a stye. I've never had one before but I was complaining that I felt like I'd been punched in the retina until I put two and two together (i.e. Googled "eyeball pain"). Now, I'm just in pain.

I read up on a it a little and it says a possible cause is poor eyelid hygiene. I'm sorry, but is everyone running home every night to partake in a multi-step eyelid cleansing regime, but me? Can someone please fill me in? Usually my eyelid regime is just to avoid poking things in it.

I have had no time to go through my pictures, pick out the ones where I don't look like an idiot pretending to be French or post any vacation snippets. So, you'll have to wait until after the upcoming holiday. And by, holiday I mean Melebration! It's that time again. Friday - partying it up. Be there or I'll give you my stye.

This is the only picture I have on my computer so far and despite the fact that the guy on the right looks like he's trying to look like he's not with us, that is my brother. The other guy is the brother who is trying to grow a beard. I'm the one in the middle with the scarf I bought because it seemed French. I know. Shut up. This was taken on our last morning in front of our hotel - which was a major disappointment. More on that later.

Ok, back to work. And warm stye-eye compresses.

Monday, August 23, 2010

You saw it here first.

Here is a collection of the weird, notable or 'whatever' things that have passed into my field of vision this week. They each struck me in some way that warranted me getting out my camera. *shrug*
I just like the colours of this. Delivering a present to a friend on my bicycle with a basket - is there a better way to spend 6:15 -7:00pm on a summer Wednesday evening?

In case you've ever wondered what it looks like when you buy 75 picture frames at Ikea. It looks like you're a freak. Or super vain. A woman asked me (even after I said, "Don't ask.") and I had to explain that the reason she can't have a frame is because I need them ALL for a 'work thing'. Legit, but people never get it. I once had to buy 58 throw pillows and then try to fit them in my car. This is not as easy as you would think. And yes, if you are familiar with the layout of the Burlington Ikea, I am in line for a hot dog.
Speaking of dogs, don't you love seeing this? Don't you wish we could be so free-wheeling? Sometimes I feel this way when I ride my bike really fast then look up to the sky with a big grin. Try it, it's fun.
Bakery box with 6 pecan tarts in it. The grease/butter really looks like Mickey Mouse. And the crust bit there almost looks like lips. It's the little things, people.

I thought it was finally time to move the last boxes from my parents' house and fully move in. This meant bringing over the board games. It is ridiculous how many trivia games I have. Like, 9 Trivial Pursuit versions. I'm addicted. Wanna come over and play?

St. Lawrence Antique Market on Sunday afternoon. I don't know. Kinda freaky deaky.

I just love this house in my neigbourhood. The wrap around porch, the wicker, one level, by the park - it's just the perfect little retirement home. It's so sweet. I always pass by and want to curl up on the porch, just for a minute.

Look how healthy I am! That's salmon and a green vegetable. Several, actually! Felt very adult eating this.

I admire this person's commitment, I'll give them that. You can't see, but it matches the house. It's fun. At least, it's fun in the middle of August. After I've been riding on my bike while grinning to the sky.

Y semble-je gros?

Paris in 48 hours. Yikes! I had a very vivid dream that I left for the airport at 7:45 for an 8:30 international flight. I actually woke myself up with the screaming. So, I finally started getting my act together. I now have Euros - did you know the bills are different sizes? - I have a pseudo list of what I want to do/eat, I bought a Vanity Fair for the plane, I've been practicing my aloof bitchy look and the few words of French I expect to need ("Do you speak English?", "Where is the nearest croissant?", and "Do I look fat in this?") and the travel plug adapter that I do in fact need. I'm ready.

Sure, I haven't tackled the issue of clothing and fitting the 4, ok, fine 3, pairs of non-sensible 'standing' shoes into the leopard print wheelie carry-on I plan on taking. I know, can I be more snooty with this bag? But it was a free swag bag and they're pretty indestructible. And, so far, only one person has said I look like a stewardess. Not flight attendant, stewardess.

Here is a picture of a room at the hotel I am staying at:Here is a picture of the room I expect to encounter once I arrive:

After freaking out because I couldn't find the hotel street on any map anywhere, and thinking it didn't exist or that I'd taken up real estate on some star named Murray, I finally determined that it is directly across the street - sorry, rue - from the Louvre.

Yaaaayyyy!!! I'm finally doing this!


I never thought I'd say this, but it's true: sometimes, there are just too many marshmallows in a box of Lucky Charms. I couldn't even finish it this morning. I had to wash it down with some fruit and whole-grain bread.
I consider haggling a competitive sport and a testament to the power of the Ask. I love it. Yesterday, at Value Village, I had my eye on this ceramic bird vase. Wow, that sounds really tacky. It was actually kinda cute. But kinda cute for $2.99? I don't think so. As I approached the cashier guy, he was finishing up with a customer and telling her he "pretty much runs this place." Why he would brag about that, I have no idea. It seemed like he was hitting on her, but really went about it the wrong way. Value Village. He should have said, "Yeah, I pretty much run past this place every day on my way to the Barbizon School for Male Models Who Have an MBA and Are Kind To Puppies. Anyway, emboldened (that's a word, right?), I went in for the kill and asked for him to sell it to me for $1.00. You know, since he, like, totally runs this place.

Cha-ching! If you can't haggle at Value Village, which is just a glorified garage sale anyway, where can you? I was so happy that I tried to take this method to HomeSense. No dice. But a nice throw blanket for $34.99.
There should be a public warning for Ikea. Single women who are listening to Sophie B. Hawkins on their Ipod, should not go to Ikea on a Saturday afternoon. It is the land of couples. Sure, not all of them look particularly happy to be there, but at least they'll have someone to help lift the 150 lb box o' shelf parts into their car later. You never feel more single than when you're standing in line for a carton of Swedish milk in a sea of canoodlers. Fine, it wasn't milk, it was 2 hot dogs.
This has been the summer of the milkshake for me. Homemade, Dairy Queen, old-fashioned diner, McDonalds - I have a no exclusion policy. I was savouring a vanilla treat the other day when I was reminded of this interiew I read with Jared Leto. Remember him? Me neither. He was talking about how he put on so much weight to play Mark David Chapman in that Lennon movie no one ever saw. He said he used to microwave Haagen Dazs and drink it to beef up. At the time, it sounded revolting (plus there was this picture that came to mind):

...but as I started thinking further and sipping further, I thought - how is that at all different from this delicious milkshake? Is it not just liquified ice cream? I blamed these unproductive thoughts on the brain freeze and slurped to the bottom.
Have you ever seen a man riding in the sidecar of a motorcycle that is being driven by another man? It's quite funny. Usually (well, having only seen this the one time), the passenger looks really uncomfortable and emasculated. The little helmet doesn't help either. Big Poppa on the bike thinks he's king of the road and his sidekick friend gets to tag along on his adventures. I felt sorry for the little guy.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Hammer Time

Spent the weekend discovering a different side of Hamilton.

Friday - James Street North Art Crawl

I've been hearing a lot of cool things about this, which happens on the 2nd Friday of the month. The Globe and Mail says Hamilton is the "new Brooklyn" - a haven for artists and the hipsters who hang out with them.

Now, I don't know anything about art, only what I like. But, even if you're not arty you can enjoy this evening. It's a very cool vibe and everyone is out on the streets or meandering the galleries. Live music, some of which seems to be played from buckets and broomsticks, cool shops that I didn't know existed, lots of people wearing stripes and glasses and lots of little Italian men watching the invasion of their rapidly changing neighbourhood.

I was probably not supposed to walk around with my Ipod - instead to soak up the atmosphere and hip art talk. But life is too short to no listen to the Greatest Hits of Ace of Base.

There was this booth where they were polling people using bingo dabbers. Now THIS is art. Hamilton art, at least. If they had polled in Timbits, I'd be all set.

I bought a greeting card made from an old library book card and it said, "This card is way overdue." Fitting for a lapsed librarian, but I will likely never use it because I hate being late in any way.

Sunday afternoon - Hamilton Roller Derby at Waterfront

Again, I didn't know anything about this, but thought it would be something different to check out. As I sat out in the blazing heat, I tried to figure out how this works. It seems like they are skating around in circles, over and over, until they fall or the ref stops them for something.

Most wore fishnets and underwear over them and were all way tougher than me. I'm pretty sure if I was thrust into this game I would cry, at one point or another.

Their names were the best part:

-Bitchslap Barbie

-Japanic Attack - Naomi that could be your name!

-Ivy Rupted

-Little Red Roller Hood

-Eduskating Rita

I have my own set of roller skates from a garage sale last year. Shockingly, I have never worn them. This has inspired me to get them out of my basement and go for a roll around the block. Probably.

Ran into old friend-style person from library school. As always, they ask if I'm working in libraries, using my Master to its full potential. It's so strange that I even did that - what was I thinking? Sure, I like books, organization and homeless men watching porn on public computers, but come on. That isn't really me. In my career, I look for couch moving, Lindsay Lohan sightings, 2am teardowns, chandeliers and many, many appetizers involving smoked salmon, sliders and cheese. Not so much of that in the library realm. Not the last time I checked anyway - and that was 5:45pm last night when I picked up the Rent soundtrack I had requested. Other than that Seasons of Love song....meh.

Overall, Hamilton has some other things to offer than the nonsense I decry on this site. You may have to go through the sludge, but there are gems around.

Blah Blah Blah

What is acid reflux? How would I even know if I have it? There was something definitely weird going on in my throat region yesterday. I tried to quiet it with cherry Jell-O, granola, kiwi and of course a California BLT. No luck. It feels like someone put Vicks VapoRub on my larynx. Or it feels like something else that I can't really explain. I wish I could ask Ashlee Simpson what it felt like when she had acid reflux on that disastrous SNL episode. I'm sure she would be full of sage advice.

Also, yesterday I went through the day, including a couple meetings and didn't realize that one of my earrings had fallen out at some point. No one mentioned this to me. Instead, they probably thought I was a pirate and didn't know if they should bring it up. Arrr.

In seven days, I will be in Paris. I have done nothing to plan for this trip other than booking it a month ago. This is very unlike me. I have no Euros, no volt adapter, no knowledge if I even need a volt adapter, no reservations, no lists about where to go and what to eat, no packing done, nothing. I should be panicking. Or packing.

The last few nights I've gotten 10 hours sleep each night. I know, I'm a bit o' a loser. But, now that I only had 8 hours last night, I'm exhausted. It doesn't help that I was at work for 7am today.

Lately I've rediscovered the cruise control feature on my car. I always forget it's there. Driving back and forth from Toronto, I've been using the feature as STOP and GO buttons. Just as an experiment to see if it would work. It does if the traffic is right. It's fun - like being in the future or a jet engine. Or what I imagine a jet engine is like.

Is there a better way to spend a grey and dreary afternoon than this?
Girly mags (but not those kind), Sex and the City reruns, California BLT, pink lemonade and a couch. Delightful.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Set Adrift on Memory Bliss

When I was kid, we often spent many weeks at the cottage. I would bring an enormous stack of books, Oreos and sunglasses down to the lake and spend the entire day there. Often, the black flies were out of control and the only way to get away from them was to go underwater. Other times, when the heat was the major problem, I figured out a wonderful way to float the days away. Lifejacket to use as my own lounger. Flippers in case I ran aground and had to paddle back out. You'll notice I was in the middle of my John Grisham phase with 'A Time To Kill'. Only a handful of books returned to the library water-wrinkled. A blissful way to spend a summer day.

Julia's wisdom

Reluctantly, I saw "Eat, Pray, Love" last night. Probably only because I had nothing to do, a free movie with my Scene points and I wasn't in the mood to think enough for Inception.

I have 'read' the book (on tape) and probably disliked it more since her voice was really annoying. I found it to be a lot of hooley-wawa - this is a term I made up yesterday when trying to describe the movie which I found to be closely accurate to the book. Hooley-wawa is difficult to explain - just a lot of head in the clouds, zen guide to superiority, lalala, hooey, yoga will change your life, practice The Secret, lily-livered wondrousness. It's too fluffy for me. I can't buy it. Or stomach it.

Plus that vein in Julia Roberts' forehead is always so distracting.

However, I will take away one gem from those 2 hours: there is this part where Julia says she misses someone and the other person says, "So miss me. Send me light and love every time you think of me. And then drop it."

There is something very satisfying about that way of handling unpleasant feelings. Acknowledge it, but don't let it control your life or your thoughts. You have to move on. It's simple enough and we'll see how easy it is to actually follow.

I've been dwelling on someone for several weeks now and I know it's not healthy, doesn't make me happy and the worst part is that there is nothing I can do to fix the situation since the other party is unwilling to communicate and a bit of a crazy person. I've been frustrated that I can't let it go. But, now I will try this method and see what happens. I have to let it go.

So, I will try to send light and love their way. Although, it's more like send fight and loathe their way, depending on my mood, because it's a very angering situation. But, no, no, rise above, Winnie. Be the bigger, less crazy person. Let's see, shall we?

Family Ties

Fittingly, as today is his birthday, I present my brother the hero. We're very proud of him, and I'm convinced my relation to him makes me cooler as well.

I can't believe he gets to meet Michaelle Jean - one of the most elegant women in the country. Now, that he's the family star, me and the other brother have to step it up!

"Your vein's a mover"

Monday morning. I've been toting around a notebook all weekend in which I jot down random blog ideas. Sometimes, I go back and read them and have a hard time deciphering what I'm meant to write about. Like when you wake up in the middle of the night to write down a dream.

"Fat man on Kenilworth" - ok, well, that one's pretty self-explanatory.
"Being told how to dance" - hmmm, something to do with Mambo No.5 I think.
"Hug from inside out" - that just sounds gross.

I will later today go through these and post some more. But right now, I'm still feeling a little woozy and light-headed from giving blood this morning. Actually, that's misleading. I did not donate my blood for the greater good of humanity even though "it is in me to give". Instead, I was ordered to do so by my doctor and put it off for 4 weeks. I hate needles so much, but always end up feeling like a baby and sheepishly apologizing to the nurse for (maybe) overreacting.

But, overreaction or not, there are no worse words to start a Monday morning with than, "This is tough - your vein's a mover". Especially on an empty stomach.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Shameless Hamilton promotion

I know I rag on a lot about Hamilton, but I actually don't mind this city. There are really amazing places here, and while you have to drive through some scum to get there, it's worth it. Besides, that scum often provides me with blog posts.

However, Hamilton needs a serious image makeover. And I know that the people responsible for these two ad campaigns agree, but have gone about it in the worst possible ways. I don't think the intended result is laughter and head shaking. Seriously, these are just embarrassing.

1. Oh, did you hear? Hamilton is now the City of Waterfalls! This came out a while ago, but it's still so bad. Who is this woman singing? I think it's safe to say she is a terrible singer. Ugh - it makes me cringe.

2. These water ads have been springing up everywhere in the city. Yes, I drink tap water, but I wasn't aware we needed an ad campaign for it. Are people really not drinking tap water? I read that the people in these ads volunteered for them as they must be very passionate about drinking tap water. Well, aren't we all though?

If you're going to stare through a glass of water you're promoting, shouldn't the water/glass be super crystal clear? Little cloudy, no?

This doesn't even make sense. And, I'm sorry, but is that beer stein he's drinking from? Oh brother. We get it - you're badass.

This one is my favourite. And by 'favourite' I mean the one I love to hate the most. Who lets a grown man sit like that? I'm embarrassed for him. Is he saying that is his preferred position in which to drink Hamilton tap water? He thinks he's Burt Reynolds on that fur rug.


This morning I was awoken by the smoke detector going off in my living room. Disoriented, I raced upstairs, only stopping to bash my forehead on the basement ceiling. I had to jump on the couch and angrily paw at the hardwired blaring sphere to finally quiet it. As I climbed down, I heard my cell phone ringing downstairs. Flew down the stairs only to reach it just as the caller had hung up. Catching my breath, my alarm starting screaming at me. All this within a 30 second span. Ok! Ok! I'm up. Wonderful way to start the day.
Every Saturday I have a little routine going - one that has just evolved over time. Breakfast that includes bacon, and sometimes only bacon, bike ride to neighbourhood garage sales, and then the following 3 stops:

- check out latest Vanity Fair because I am too 'thrifty' to subscribe to the best magazine out there.
- pay my $1.00 fine because I keep thinking I'm going to actually watch 'Nine' or 'The Blind Side' and I never do and am always late in returning them.
- consider checking out one of the classics I haven't gotten around to reading, like David Copperfield, Jane Eyre or The Firm
- actually check out the latest and brightest 'chick lit' - although I really hate this term, because the novels I read really aren't as bad as this title suggests. But what else do you call novels by women, for women that usually centre around women living in some metropolis and that may or may not include a character named Emily?

Canadian Tire
- clip gas coupon for extra Canadian Tire money
- buy a variety of items that may include but are not limited to: cooler bag for the beach, cans of paint for latest DIY project, milk, frying pan, Canada flag and kitchen blinds which I will later return.
- hold up the line while I pay for my purchases with Canadian Tire money - why aren't more people doing this?? It's FREE money, people!

Millionaire's Daughter - consignment furniture shop
- say hello to owners who now know me by name
- check to see if lamp I want is still there and if the price has dropped
- buy piece of furniture that I will then take to the upholsterer across the street

However, as I go about this pleasant Saturday morning routine, I always have to see this guy as I drive around. It's so awful.

(Normally, I would apologize about the photo quality because I snapped it while speeding by with my eyes closed, but trust me, you don't want better quality.)

It has become sorely clear that I am a person destined to have a job or livelihood that will always include moving couches at some point or another. What is that about? Even if my job is fun, at times glamourous, satisfying and rewarding, it got to be all that because I moved a couch. Weird.
I saw a woman wearing a skirt made out of a Tiger Cat flag. She wasn't even at or near a football game of any kind. In fact, she was in the business section of town on a Tuesday morning. That's Hamilton for you folks, loyal to their team, but ignorant of style and decency.
There is this song on the radio that has a part near the end where the girl says/sings "Cherry Cherry Boom Boom". I quite like the song, but I love this part. It's so random.

It reminds me of this time in 9th grade during silent reading time (remember that?). I was reading Stone Angel by Margaret Laurence and singing Whitney Houston songs in my head. Obviously. I was always a multi-tasker. My friend Kim was sitting in the desk next to me and I guess, without knowing it, I blurted out, "Chaka Khan" which is the end part of some Whitney song. Again, very random. Kim looked over at me, "Did you just say Chaka Khan!?!" There isn't really an explanation for that one. I don't even think I knew who Chaka Khan was. Does anyone really though?
I saw a guy wearing a t-shirt with a picture of a cardigan on it. Now, that's funny. Someone I know should get that one.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Attack of a Dress

Saturday night. New dress. Mojitos. All is going according to plan. Put on the dress, ask friend to zip it up. What followed was the worst 20 minutes of the night - and likely the worst 30 seconds of your day if you watch the clip below. What resulted was me wearing an old dress (see, Katy? This is why you overpack!) and drowning sorrow in more mojitos.

This clip is ridiculous. I didn't know I sound so shrill. Blaming it on mojitos. The gasping you hear is me trying to inhale my ribcage to get the zipper down. I was starting to panic a bit and getting claustrophobic in the pink confection dress. It really is so, so pretty. It's worth whatever a seamstress charges me to wear it at least once.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Queen of the Animal Kingdom

The animal kingdom is after me. Quietly and slowly, they are collectively freaking me out.

Incident #1:

Walking into work, blissfully unaware that my boss had set up a racoon trap the night before, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw this. I was so startled that I definitely yelped. They just stared up at me, shaking and smelling awful. How stupid are these animals?! That trap was made for one garbage dweller, not two. But, dummy sees his friend in there and now I've got two startling me when I haven't even digested my breakfast yet.
Incident #2:

Again with the breakfast, but as I busied myself making a nutrious, wholesome meal and/or cereal, I glanced down and, a mere inch from my foot, was a dead mouse. In the middle of the floor?!? How did that happen? I didn't even know I had mice. Did he have a heart attack? Was it a mouse fight? What causes a mouse to die out in the open like that? Suicide? I don't really care, just looking for a way to reduce the early morning gasps.

Incident #3:

Ok, this one might be somewhat my fault. I looked out my window last night and saw this ferret-like animal slinking around. Then I noticed it had a chip bag on its head. Ok, that's just funny. So, I ran outside with my camera and followed it into the street. I think it was a cat and I couldn't stop laughing at it. I tried to get close to free him, but remembered a story I heard about some girl being punctured in the wrist by a crazy cat. So, I just sorta followed it around, trying to get the courage to help it. It fell off the curb and walked into a telephone pole. I'm sure it made it through the night. Who are these people trying to sell us on cats being really intelligent? How stupid do you have to be? I know, I'm awful, but it was really, really funny.

California Dreamin'

I cannot get enough of California BLTs. I had one every night for dinner last week until I ran out of bacon, a tragedy in itself. FYI: mortadella just doesn't taste the same.

Avocado, tomato, bacon, lettuce, best mayonnaise ever, white thick toast.....look how delish!

Leftover Desk 'Treasures'

Whoa. Ok, it's been a while since I've posted. Work has been crazy busy and I still don't have home internet, soooo....

First, I was rereading my last post and it sounds a little harsh. I'm too much over the topic to really comment, but let's just say that I will accept and enjoy texts that are something other than flirty or funny if it's from the right person. That is all.

I can't remember if I mentioned this months ago, but I bought a desk on Kijiji and ended up asking out the guy who sold it to me. He had a girlfriend, so instead he decided to 'accidentally' bash up my knee with the aforementioned desk. Anyway, I finally got around to painting it this weekend and after I realized painting the drawers while they're closed isn't a good idea, I removed them all. I found quite a little treasure. Secretly, I was hoping for his number as he reconsidered my date offer. Instead, this:

- recipe for spanikopita
- picture of some chick (maybe the girlfriend?)
- postcard
- blank cheque
- sticker
- rape whistle (not pictured)
- key (also not pictured)
Hmmm, what is this all trying to tell me? And which item do you think I will get the most use out of? Recipe? Whistle? None of it, as it will all be thrown out? Hmmmm.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Seriously, guy?

This is funny:

Texting is the dating way these days. It can't be avoided. And according to some of the guys in my life, boring texts can't be avoided either. Seriously, people, if you are 'courting' me via text there are exactly two reasons to text me.

1) to be flirty
2) to be funny

If your text does neither of these things, don't even bother. Especially if I have just met you and we are in the precarious early stages where I don't really care that you bought new shoes today or that your new apartment has a gym. Why are you boring me with the details of your day? Or asking me how my day is? That's all fine and good if it's accompanied by something that makes me smile.

Also, although it should go without saying, if you're spelling things incorrectly, might as well press 'END'. If your text makes me roll my eyes or sigh when I read it, that is never a good sign. And I am finally now recognizing these signs and acting accordingly and swiftly. No time for things that don't make me smile. Instead, I'd be better off going back and reading old saved text messages from other people that still make me smile months or years later.



If you can believe it, I said the following words - in natural conversation and in proper context - all in one day!
- nefarious
- vestiges
- surreptitiously
Sadly, it was this same day that I caught my first episode of Jersey Shore - thereby deleting any intelligent points I garnered earlier. I've been seeing these creatures in the popular culture that swirls around my head for several months and morbid curiousity caused me to pause on their program. It was, as expected, the worst. Everything I dislike about other people, put into one shameful, irritating, loud display of bottom feeders. Why are we allowing these people to be famous? Why are we indulging them? Why do we care? Why did I waste 30 minutes when I could easily have been watching something more wholesome and valuable to my life. You know, like Project Runway.
Crime Alert: senior citizens see no problem in eating food without paying for it at the supermarket. In the past few weeks, I have witnessed (and stood idly by) while little old ladies and suspender-ed old men pluck grapes from the aisles, reach into bulk almond containers, bite into peaches and eat olives from the olive bar as if from their own kitchen table. Why can't I do this? I would surely be taken down and asked never to return. No one bats an eye at them! They know it's wrong, they probably just think they've lived long enough to have earned it. I sure do hope I live long enough to cash in on this theory. Although, I probably won't limit it to the produce section. I'll try it with gas and milk too. Whaddathey gonna do?
Another awkward supermarket situation yesterday. It's really obvious when parents are using their kids as conversational pawns to strike something up with other people. It's also uncomfortable. There was this guy with three kids hanging all over him - no other adults. Naturally, I steered my cart away as far as I could as I passed by. Then I hear him 'talking' to these kids who don't even know their own name or where they are and pretending to have real conversations with them. I know the guy thought he was being funny and that I would react or comment. I didn't. I didn't laugh and then I felt sorry for him. But before it got too serious, I turned into the ice cream aisle and forgot all about it.
Went to the movies yesterday to see Salt - surprisingly excellent with more twists than those awful Taco Bell 'desserts'. However, as my movie partner (movies are the only partnership we can commit to at this point in time :) ) and I sat chatting before it started, we were suddenly thrust into the most bizarre situation. The previews hadn't started yet - I have a strict no talking preview rule - it was just those lame general interest interviews and chitchattery (I just made this word up) that no one really watches. Or so I thought.

Directly in front of us, a woman spun around and said, "I can't help but hear your conversation." I thought she was going to join in our discussion about Lindsay Lohan and whether or not her career (what career?) is over. However, she wasn't having any of it. What follows is exactly what transpired - no exaggeration.

Crazy: You're talking and it's really annoying!
Me: Oh. Well, the movie hasn't started yet, so...
Crazy: I don't give a shit. Stop talking!
Movie Partner: Sorry, but you should just move then.
Me: We're just chatting, at a normal volume.
Crazy: I don't give a f**k - shut the f**k up.
Me: Wha----?
Crazy: F**K YOU!
Me: Are you crazy?
Movie Partner: You should just move, we're not going to stop talking until the movie starts.
Crazy: F**k you. Stupid Canadian men. Stupid Canadian men.

Then she turned around and left us with mouths agape trying to see if anyone else heard this. She was a little, refined looking lady. I guess. Then of course, although we had exhausted our Lindsay Lohan topics, we continued to talk. Yes, out of spite. But, seriously. Come on lady. This is why you should wait until you can rent it on DVD in the privacy of your little cave hovel. By yourself.

The rest of the movie we kept coming up with immature things to do to her - none of which we did of course, but when someone is so utterly insane, it's hard not to stoop to their level. Or at least think about it.

Major WTF moment.