"Has someone taken your faith? It's real, The pain you feel? Your trust? You must confess. Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?"

I consider it some sort of record that I haven’t had any annoying roommate stories until this day, the 29th of October 2006. I’ve always thought my roommate Connor was a tad bit strange. He eats spaghetti with his hands and says that’s how you eat Ethiopian food (but clearly spaghetti is not Ethiopian, and we’re in Canada, but I digress). He has also brought home a friend who quit smoking the day before and had since decided it would be a healthier life choice to start snorting tobacco or ‘Snuff’ as he called it. On Friday my friend Jocelyn and I ran into him at school and he had writing on this arm claiming a lack of available paper as the reasoning and has brought home free Muslim bibles from people he met on the street and so on.

But today was the most unusual and infuriating of all. I come in the door from Hamilton and walk into the bathroom, and to my surprise the bathroom looks like a small animal has been killed or someone has taken paint and danced around the room with it. My basement roommate, Scott and I, who actually share the bathroom, were both gone for the weekend. So I go up to the kitchen and ask Connor if Scott had been home and he says no, and I ask if Connor (who is in art fundamentals) has been in our bathroom with paint? Apparently he had! To wash up because his bathroom was occupied by another roommate of ours, Danielle at the time. He then attempts to claim that he had in fact cleaned it up. It was EVERYWHERE! The floor, the walls, the crevasses of the sink, the side of the toilet, on my tube of toothpaste, the mirror, the door frame, and its only a tiny bathroom! I literally had to scrub the walls and floor to get the majority of it removed, the rest is still there and I can’t get rid of it. What a balls thing to come home to, I always question the issue of karma in situations like this.

"Your moving fast, Don't get attached, I think you're hot but I love you not..."


I had an interesting conversation last night with Mr. Will Smith and we happened upon the subject of marriage, more so the issue of people getting married in their late teens/ early twenties. I don’t know if it makes my cynical, bitter or whatever but I just can’t understand people committing to a life together when their own has barely begun. Now let me say that I’m not against the idea of marriage and I do hope one day (although some days I have my doubts) that I will get married too. I also support the idea of long term relationships, in fact I hope to find myself in one of those one day as well. But I can’t understand the reason for the rush to the altar. If you’re in a committed relationship, perhaps living together and you’ve made the conscious decision to move forward in a life together, why not give that life a chance before you promise to spend the rest of your life with said person? I understand some people decide to get married young because of certain beliefs, perhaps their religion dictates no sex before marriage or as Will said some cultures like the Dutch are very traditional and believe that marriage is actually quite sacred. And in a way I agree, I think it is sacred and that’s why I think waiting is so important. Too often to people wind up divorced these days, I believe the statistic falls somewhere in the 1 in 3 range if Bridget Jones’s Diary gives accurate stats (and I’m sure it does, love that movie). Love is such a fickle thing in the sense that we seem to lost all rationality and believe in crazy terms like forever and always. Of course that’s the exact kind irrationality we crave, but how do we balance the irrational feelings of love with the responsible, good sense not to jump the gun?

"Choices always were a problem for you, what you need is someone strong to guide you, deaf and blind and dumb and born to follow, what you need is someone strong to guide you....like me"


So I was watching my nightly helping of my lovable TV host, Conan O’Brien and a few reasons were presented amidst this episode that defines for me, why I love him so much.

1. He used an example of going to get slushies at 711 (Mel, I’m looking at you here)
2. His never ending mocking of the whore the Paris Hilton is
3. His never ending mocking of the human stick that Nicole Ritchie is
4. And of course, the George Bush comments

Later on in the episode when Alec Baldwin made an appearance in which they made several references to debaucherous activities including a gentlemen wanting Alec’s hairy ass on his face. You just don’t’ hear things like that on any other TV show. God I love that man.

But during the break was a commercial that has spawned this entry and one that I cannot believe I have not written about sooner. 7th Heaven. How in GOD’s name (pun intended) is this ridiculous show still on the air? Not only are all the kids, cousins, grand kids, adopted kids, street kids, adopted-street kids-kid’s all grown up, but the show had a FAREWELL episode last season! I know this because I saw the commercial 100 times and rejoiced that it was finally going off the air where it should have gone since day one. I can only assume that some audience demand has brought the show back for what can only be their 75th season. To this end, I must ask, WHERE in the world are these people and WHY would they want to continue beating this dead horse any further?

"Wanna leave but I've got to stay, I'm wondering more everyday, Montreal to Hong Kong, Where have all the good people gone?" - Sam Roberts


This has been a most odd and unfortunate week. I can honestly say I’m glad to see its ends in exactly 24 minutes. For those of you interested in the strange and often crappy things that happen in my day-to-day life, please read further for your viewing pleasure. Let’s see where to begin. After spending the week feeling like I’m coming down with the cold/flu thing that everyone seems to be contracting, it has not yet surfaced to its fullest extent, so I’ve been feeling a bit run down. Not so bad, and the editing class is still a jumble of language and button pressing in sequence I don’t fully understand (as per my previous blog for those of you that have read it and chosen not to comment, Jeff and Brett I’m looking at you).



Fast forward to Thursday night at Mr. Matt J. Danko’s incredibly swanky and fabulous formal-pot luck dinner-soiree. A very classy affair filled with suits, ties and dresses. A lot of interesting illustration and other Sheridan kids among others were in attendance. Unbeknownst to me I meet in my mingling, Mark the apparent Buddhist. Better known to Matt and his friends as “Creeps” (I find this out later). I chat with Mark and Josephine (Jo) for a while before Mark says he will soon be leaving. I find he keeps returning to the spots I’m sitting but think little of it until he asks for my cell phone number and pulls out his cell phone to add it in. I panic and being the idiot I am, give him my right number. When I basically remove myself as quickly as humanly possible from the situation I find Matt and Jen to tell them what has transpired and this Matt tells me of their affectionate nickname for him. So apparently I’m only a magnet for creeps (a theory I will later prove further).

Saturday evening we all head out to the Whistling Walrus in the Hammer for Jeff Comer’s birthday party. We drink and get the birthday boy sufficiently intoxicated, the whole time conversing with Mr. Brett Lintott in hopes of wearing down his insulting exterior to the charmer and more importantly, the beer drinker we all know and love. The evening went along very splendidly until I got groped before our departure. Most unfortunate and there’s the creep factor again.

This morning I get a frantic call from a co-worker at Bluenotes asking me to come in early. I fly from the Hammer to Oakville to assist her in my parent’s tank-sized mini van because my car was being repaired. I pulled into a drive through spot and rushed in. I came out to the van, after the mall had closed to find a note under my windshield that read “learn to park asshole” on a white envelope written in orange pen. I looked around the parking spot in an attempt to figure out what I had apparently done wrong only to discover the front wheel of my passenger side barely touched the line of the spot, clearly still allowing people to park beside me (as I pulled into a drive through spot in the first place) and allowing enough room for people to get in and out of the vehicles with comfort. I was very taken aback and saddened by this douchebags note. Lastly, no Slainte for our typical Sunday evening socializing. Here’s hoping this week proves lovelier than the last. People suck.