Pet Peeves

I seem to be on a roll with posting rants about something or another that drives me crazy. Let's save ourselves some time, and just make a list of things that really drive me crazy.

- How the Humphreys (in Gossip Girl) say they live in Williamsburg when CLEARLY last episode they were playing football in the park right outside my old office. You know, in DUMBO. You know, in NOT WILLIAMSBURG.

- Being called cute or hun or honey, or when people say"aww you're so adorable"

- Dealing with unwanted body hair. Hassle and a half. Strike that, two whole hassles.

- When people use a baby voice in as their regular conversation voice and they are over the age of 3

- Prolonged nudity in the change room. Do you really have to apply lotion to your legs before you put on underwear?

- When I'm biking on the sidewalk, and walking towards me are a group of friends, walking 3 wide across the path. They see me coming, but don't move to let me bike past. And then I have to break, and come to a complete stop so that I don't hit them. YOU SEE ME COMING, SO MOVE.

- When people ask the stupidest most pointless things in class. Like if they point out an error the prof made in some notes on the board... when it's not so much an actual error as it is an omission. "Sir, you write squared... shouldn't it be cubed?" YES CLEARLY. Or a new favourite "Sir, you wrote 2 x 200,000 equals 400,00. Don't you mean 400,000?" ARE YOU KIDDING.

- How Heroes invariably ends right before a big moment of truth, just to leave you hanging

- Actually, how every show does that

- Actually, how even books do that. You'd be reading your Nancy Drew and your dad already told you to turn off the light and you call out "Just let me finish the chapter!" And the last sentence in the chapter is never not "Nancy frantically tried to decipher the cryptic message, and just as she was figuring out the last word, she heard the door creak open and a familiar voice call out 'Not so fast, you strawberry blonde teen detective'. " And that's the end of the chapter. ARGH (Note: do you guys watch Veronica Mars? I'm just getting into it now. I think have a thing for cool female detectives. Like Alias, too)

- People who be hating on my affection towards celebrity gossip. I am interested, okay? Don't tell me I should be spending my time doing better things.

- When people try to one up each other on how many hours they spent doing a project or studying for a test. Are they trying to intimidate the rest of their classmates? That's terrific that you studied 14 hours every day for the past two weeks, really it is. But I don't care all that much.

- When friends argue over small amounts of money.

- When things are really just not fair, even though they totally could be

- When people wear bikinis to the pool during lap time. Especially the kind of bikinis that aren't really meant for swimming, so they have to stop in the middle of the lane to adjust, and then I crash into them. If the only suit you have is a tiny two piece, then maybe you shouldn't be in the fast lane, okay?

Name droppers

Independent bands are just like high end fashion.

Some people need to make sure you realize their purse is Chanel and their dress is Oscar de la Renta and these heels? Just one of the 5 Christian Louboutins that they own. It's all about name dropping. Like, "I own this and you don't. I'm better than you".

Some people need to make sure you realize that you liked band XYZ before they got big. Oh and they totally like band 123 and band ABC and band 3000. You haven't heard of any of those? Yeah, well, "I know cool music and you don't. I'm better than you".

It's TOTALLY COMPARABLE.

And people who say they like Indie music? Yeah, too bad indie isn't so much a genre as it is a lack of a major label. It's short for independent, asshat.

In a recent conversation, I mentioned that I'm not a huge concert goer. I've only been to 3 concerts in my life. And the person with whom I was engaged in conversation replied "I bet you're not a music person". Later, I was accused of liking "shit music like Britney Spears, right?"

Yeah, I do like Britney. I love me some Brit Brit.

I like a lot of top of the charts music. Kanye? Fergie? Jack Johnson? Mika? Gwen? I LOVE THEM ALL. If lots of people like it... it's probably because it's good. It really, really, really, bothers me when people refuse to a song just because it's by a popular artist.

OR WORSE: when they used to like a band, but stop liking them once they become popular. ITS THE SAME SONG YOU ONCE LOVED.
My last.fm shows my favourite bands. A mix of Lily Allen, Coldplay, Justin Timberlake, Alanis, etc, and less popular bands like Tilly and the Wall, The Mountain Goats, and The Moldy Peaches. And a healthy amount of Broadway tunes. I love musicals.

I don't know why it bothers me so much. If people want to talk about bands clearly nobody has ever heard about, that should be okay. It's just that if somebody, in the middle of a pleasant dinner conversation, starting talking about baseball stats and nobody else at the table cared about baseball... we'd all be like "shut up, don't you have anything better to memorize?". Or if somebody was talking about their terribly difficult calculus project, we'd be like "okay we get it- you're smart. Now let's talk about something that interests us all".

But when people talk music, I find everybody else at the table tries to fake it till they make it- and then we all start dropping band names nobody else cares about. (And not in a "I suggest you try this band! They're totally your style!" way). It's so lame.

Anyway, to satisfy your curiosity: my itunes top 25!

Who's a geek now...

I like my friends. We were using IM to complete a group lap report. We veered off topic every so often:

Mike says:
i saw a bumper sticker that said 'there are 10 types of people in the world, those who know binary, and those who don't'

Lisa says:
i saw that on a shirt

Lisa says:
thinkgeek.com

Joe... says:
youreageek.com

Mike says:
put that on a shirt

Lisa says:
irealizethat.ca

Joe... says:
thankgoodnessthatcouldhavebeenawkward.org

Lisa says:
ifyouretryingtoactlikeyourenotageekitsnotworking.edu

Joe... says:
biteme.somethingclever

Lisa says:
biteme.org/somethingclever.html

Joe... says:
k, you win

Lisa says:
im getting mike this for christmas

Lisa says:
http://www.thinkgeek.com/tshirts/generic/7184/

Lisa says:
don't tell him, I want it to be a surprise

Mike says:
joe, i'm getting lisa this for christmas, the link's below, don't tell her

Mike says:


Lisa says:
ouch

Mike says:
burn!

Joe... says:
thats deadly

The Lion, The Witch, and The View From My Window

Minus Mr Tumnus, isn't this the cover for the second Narnia book?

The sad part is that I only took these at about 5:30, and it's already this dark. Crazy!

Where to live, where to live.

Hey, you! Want to decide my future?

Next term I'm working in Toronto. I could live downtown and basically walk to work (and spend about $700 on rent/utilities), or I could live at home in a neighbouring suburb and commute.

Pros to Living at Home
- save a lot of money (minus the cost of commuting but plus the cost of groceries, I'd save about $2500 over four months)
- get to spend more time with my siblings
- can get a lot of reading done during the half hour train ride in
- somebody else is cooking for me
- would feel settled instead of chaotic

Pros to Living Downtown
- keep my freedom
- save time
- infringe less on my parents

The biggest trouble is that the train station is not within walking distance of my house, so I'd need my parents to drive me and pick me up from the train station every day.

My mom: Of course we can pick you up and drop you off. We can drop you off at the same time we drop Steve off [my brother who goes to school downtown]

Me: Yeah, but Steve has to go to school at like, 7:30. I don't want to go until more like 9.

Her: Then Dad can drive Steve early, I'll drive you later

Me: And if I have improv at night, I sometimes won't get home until like midnight

Her: Then we'll pick you up at midnight

Me: In peak season, that's like three or four nights a week

Her: Then we'll pick you up at midnight three of four nights a week

My mom seems strangely gung-ho for me to live at home again. I mean, I guess I could find a gym downtown, and just spend most of my day there. But then I'd have to carry around a backpack of gym clothes.

Or if friends invite me to do something at night. I'd be done work at 6, but there's no point of going home just to come right back. So I'd have to carry around non-work clothes, too. And then I'd start to feel like I'm living out of a bag.

Then again, I'm really not a "going out" type of girl. I've "hit the bars" like twice this whole term, and that's only when I feel obligated for a birthday or something.

Then again, again, I'd feel like I'm seventeen again being like "oh, let me just call my parents to tell them when I'll be home", you know? My parents have never been the "tell us everything you've been up to" type, but I'd start feeling bad if I made them keep reworking their days around picking me up according to my schedule.

I wouldn't have to carry heavy groceries home in the cold weather. I could do my laundry for free whenever I wanted. I could go to Jack and Rob's hockey games on early Saturday mornings. I could get my dad to teach me to drive and finally get my license.

If I live downtown I could live with my terrific friend Meags, who has never lived in the same province as me but happens to be moving to Toronto at the same time I am. If I live at home I could just settle into something familiar, and not experience that "ahhh my life is in chaos" feeling that happens every time I hectically move around.

Which should I do? I thought that typing out all the pros and cons might help, but it hasn't!

Is it April yet?

My siblings had a snow day yesterday. This is the view from my window. Come on.

What is this.

Craziness, Lack of Vision, and Dating

I promise you this will be the best post that anybody in NaPoBloMo has ever written.

Read it here. (It's by my friend Brianna. Check her other stuff out too because Time Magazine once named one of her posts "one of the great blog posts of our age". NO JOKE)

An Open Letter to the Washrooms on Campus

Heyyyy Female Bathrooms!

How's it going?

Oh, no- not all of you! I'm only here to talk to the female bathrooms from engineering buildings. Yeah all you girls from the arts buildings? I hear there are an abundance, nay, a plethora of you. So you guys can skedaddle.

How have things been with you guys recently? I remember last year when a whole bunch of you got covered in stickers that said "Tampons kill wildlife. I choose alternatives" or something like that. Those stickers spooked me out. I'd continually get that mental image of a duck that died in an oil spill- you know, the one that was featured in environment part of my grade 7 science textbook?

I'm sure glad they covered those stickers up with "The best way to prevent getting the flu is to wash your hands regularly" stickers. Those also spook me out because the cartoon hand image is covered in inch works and tarantulas. Luckily this type of spook leads me to engage in better hygiene practices, rather than lead me to decide to try my hand at the diva cup. (Let's not talk about that).

Anyway. We don't see each other much, do we? When I have to go during class, I just hold it. You know why? Because you're SO FAR AWAY. I have to walk down a (very chilly) flight of stairs and through a (perennially reeking) hall way to find you.

And when I finally arrive at that one woman's bathroom? There is almost always a wait. (Unless I go RIGHT in the middle of class).

You know what though? I'm stereotyping here. I'm only talking about the bathrooms in the engineering building where I have class. There's some urban legend about how originally there were NO women's washrooms in the whole building. And so when girls finally starting being engineers, they had to turn some guys' bathrooms into girls' bathrooms. So both the males and the females have long waits. At least that seems sort of fair.

Here's what does NOT seem fair: in another engineering building, the one with all the machine shops and stuff? I get lost just trying to find you! I always end up looking on a map. EVERY TIME. I'll find five male washrooms (including the one that has the safety wash shower- you know, for if you get doused in toxic chemicals) but not you.

I know there's not much that can be done. And that probably the ratio of male washrooms to female washrooms pretty accurately represents the ratio of male engineering students to female engineering students.

But give a girl a break, here!

Holla!

-Lisa

But when she got there, the cupboard was bare

Laura: I think I've found a new way to save money.

Me: What is it?

Laura: Go grocery shopping less.

Me: That's also a very good weight loss technique.

Laura: Two birds, one stone!

On Being Delinquent

You know, I seriously have nothing against skipping class.

When people get all "Shoot, can't. I have class" I think they're lame. Just skip it, yo!

As the term progresses, I skip class more and more frequently. I inevitably discover that I never again look at the notes some professors give, so why bother taking them? Also, sometimes sleeping in does more for your marks than attending class. Seriously.

My parents were always fairly lenient with my attendance at school. They let me stay home from school whenever I wanted.

They rarely asked for reasons for why I wanted to stay home. When they did ask, pretty much anything was an acceptable reason, from "It's boring" to "I hate it" to "People hate me" (grade 5-8) and even "All we ever do is watch movies". By the end of high school, when I was 18 and therefore allowed to sign myself out of class, I pretty much only went to classes if I didn't want to hurt my teacher's feelings.

In grade 4, I didn't go to a single day of class until November (when the pesky government started interfering). Even then, I'd go for half days. I go home for lunch and then just not return. Or something in the morning, I would pretend to still be sleeping. My dad would come wake me up, and I wouldn't respond. He'd say, "Are you faking?" and I'd say "Yes." And I would get to stay home.

(In kindergarten they were a little harsher. I have distinct memories of wanting to stay home because we had just got Beauty and the Beast on VHS and I hadn't watched it yet. I tried faking sick but they didn't buy it. I guess there are no legit reasons for not wanting to go to kindergarten, though.)

I don't remember ever having a bedtime either. I mean, I guess I must have when I was really little. But mostly it was "Lisa, turn out the light in the kitchen before you go to bed". There were a lot of nights during summer vacation where I definitely stayed up until 4am playing Heroes of Might and Magic or The Sims.

I definitely never had a curfew. And I've certainly never been grounded. I really didn't have that many parental limits in my youth. And yet, I've turned out pretty much okay, right? (I also never had a ride home from soccer practice. But I guess having eight siblings has got its prose and cons)

So if I want to skip all 4 of my lectures this morning? Then I will. Also, if I want to skip every single tutorial this term except the ones where we have quizzes? Then good for me.

This wasn't mean to turn into a rant about how annoying it is when classmates judge me for being such a skipper. I'm just here to say... I'm an academic delinquent. I've started living by the phrase "anything over a 60% is wasted effort." Deal.

Dance Floor Dynamics

Okay I'm not AGAINST dancing? But man, do I get really worked up watching a dance floor.

I haven't been to "a dance" since grade eight. Those were great fun! We weren't old enough to realize that standing in a circle of 13 people, bobbing our heads and shifting our feet was pretty lame. We'd wave to each other from across the circle. We'd cheer when the Macarena came on. Those dances also provided occasion for more physical contact with my secret crush than I could ever hope for elsewhere

Clear memory of a Brian McKnight song. (One, you're like a dream come truuue. Two, just want to be with youuu) My hands on his shoulders. Rigid wrists. His hands on my hips. Not too near my bum, but definitely not too high. Plenty of room for the Holy Spirit, I'll tell you that much.

I went to an all girls high school, so suffice it to say our dances were pretty lame. The movies always depict the girls' school meeting up with the boys' school for dances. We all apply excess mascara on the school bus ride over to their gym while giggling and wishing aloud that Harvey Hampton the Hunk would ask us to dance the twist. Debbie is mad at Nancy for copying her new bob, we all know that Bernard is TOTALLY going to spike the punch! Oh, also, we draw lines on our legs to make it look like we're wearing nylon stockings. And in the back seat, naive tenth grader Betty asks school skank Sally what it's like to be in love with a man.

Yeah, that doesn't actually happen.

The dancers at our dances (or so I hear) consisted of a bunch of frosh who hadn't realized what they were getting into, the people on student council and any of their friends that they could drag, and really pervy/creepy guys who are probably three years older than the average twelfth grader.

Now, I love dancing. But it is SO rare to find an environment that I feel comfortable to dance in. Such environments include: my kitchen, improv camp, square dances.

Improv camp was the best. One time in a workshop we all had to just do our "kitchen dance". Then we had to copy each other's kitchen dance. It was out of this world! Try to get somebody to genuinely show you their kitchen dance. The dance they rock out to when they put the radio on while they do dishes. Lots of people have never shown anybody their kitchen dance!

But if you walk into your local bar, all you see is a sweaty crowd moving in the exact same way. I mean, there are hundreds of thousands of ways that the human body can move to a rhythm. But everybody shares the same 5 moves, all of which connote actions that I assure you our naive tenth grader Betty knows nothing about.

My favourite dance floor dynamics are when the dancing is just starting. Here's how it happens EVERY TIME. A bunch of girls (half of whom are inexplicably wearing cowboy hats) take to the floor. They stand really close to each other, taking turns being the centre of attention. If any one of them does something weird, like a move that isn't in the handbook titled "The Only 5 Dance Moves You Should Ever Do" they all stop dancing for a second and laugh it off, like "omigod imagine if I did that for real????!!!!"

Then the guys come. In twos, sporting smirks. They join the crowd like "oh fine! oh fine because you asked!". They do a lot of sprinkler or shopping-cart type moves in a "omigod, imagine if this was actually in my dance move repertoire?!". Then they go grind somebody up in a "this is fun! But I'm totally not That Guy. We're just dancing, right?". Then they steal the girls' hats and wear them because that's the most hilarious thing I can think of.

I think the guys bother me more than the girls.

I don't know, I think I'm becoming lamer and lamer these days. Unless a really close friend comes too, I hate even going to bars. I've only been of legal drinking age for a year and a half! But there are seriously so many better ways that I'd like to spend my time.

Do you hate dancing too? Then tell me I'm not alone.

Do you love dancing? Freak. Also, why? Help me understand the appeal of everybody bobbing around judging each other.

"washroom", hey?

I stumbled across these precious treasures while wedding dress shopping* over the weekend.

They speak for themselves.

*For my sister's wedding, not mind

Photography by Dirty British Photography

Catch This Phrase!

Catch Phrase. What a game. I could play it forever.

Leah tells me that the way I play can only be described as intense. I mean, I never claimed not to be competitive but when I find myself on my knees, pointing at somebody's face and shouting "SPIDERMAN. SPIDERMAN." at the top of my lungs at the hint "there are 3 of these movies", I sometimes wonder if I over do it.

Obviously, the answer is that no, I don't over do it.

I've noticed my sister, Laura, also gets Ah-REALLY into this game. Could this trait be familial? Being the investigative type, I became very observant when playing with my family this weekend.

Jack epitomized an over zealously competitive player. Conclusion: yes, it is a family trait.

Jack also gave really hilarious (read: terrible) clues. Laura would whisper the word to him. Here are some of my favourites:

Jack's clue: You don't really see people doing this...
Us: go to the bathroom! get dressed!
Jack: mmmmm. nooo. It's like... hmmm (he would get really pensive)
Laura: Jack, why don't you act it out
Jack: (faints)
Us: FAINTING!
Jack: YEAHHH EAYHHHH YEAAAAHHHHH YA YA YA YA

Next turn

Jack's clue: You don't really ever see this...
Us: Fainting!
Jack: and it lives in trees...
Us: Squirrels! Birds!
Jack: yeah but what kind of bird?
Us: robin! woodpecker! owl!
Jack: OWL YEAH YESSSS YA YA OWL YEAHHHHH

Next turn

Jack's clue: You don't really ever see this...
Us: Owls! Fainting!
Jack: and it lives in the sea
Us: mermaids! sharks!
Jack: nooo...
Us: What colour is it?
Jack: it's like, reddy-ish
Us: Crab! Lobster!
Jack: YA YA LOBSTER YAAAAAAA YA YA YA

Here's a clip of the hilarity.

How To: Raise Your Hand In Class

You asked for it, and I said no. You asked again, and I said sure. But never intended to keep that promise. I was asked yet again, so here I am, finally giving in. The first in this series was How To: Say Goodbye.

There are many different reasons why one would raise their hand in class. And for each of these reasons, there is a different way to raise your hand. You should realize this, and learn the techniques. I am here to equip you for your future.

When you just need permission to go to the bathroom

I think once you reach like, grade 11 teachers stop requiring you to ask permission to leave the classroom. So for nostalgia's sake, let's review.

The teacher (or classroom assistant) should be able to sense the urgency. My research indicates that a wide open hand with straight, separated fingers best conveys the time deadline. However, a straight arm usually connotes a keenness to answer a question. Do not be mistaken for a keener.

The shoulder angle should be 90 degrees. The elbow angle should be acute, but large enough such that your hand is higher than your head. Any teacher knows what these geometric conditions indicate: bathroom time.

Your countenance should also serve to convey urgency. A grimace is often useful, as is a raised eye brow "omg you won't even believe what's about to happen if you don't give me permission to run to the bathroom" sort of look.

Special Cases: In French class, most French teachers require you to ask in French. Nobody ever really does. So even if you speak out without being called on, if you ask in French you will probably be excused. Just interrupt the lesson by saying "Est-ce que je suis aller a la toilettes, s'il vous plait?". What I just wrote doesn't make any sense, but personal experience tells me what as long as you're not speaking English, and if you say "toilettes" instead of "toilets", they'll give you A for effort and you won't get in trouble for not raising your hand.

When your arm gets tired

An elevated arm leads to blood drainage in the fingers. Common sense.

There are 3 ways to deal with this:

One can rotate which arm is raised (most efficient switching frequency is every 25.6 seconds)

One can rest their arm on their head. Do to this, start from fully extended vertical arm. Bend at the elbow until forearm is resting on top of head.

One can move the arm to a more horizontal position (approximately 10 degrees from horizontal) and use the other arm to support it. For example, position your left arm on the table as if you're going to arm wrestle somebody. Then place your right elbow in your left hand. Your right hand can go limp while the teacher is writing on the board, but as soon as they turn around make sur to raise your hand (just from the wrist, the rest of the arm remains horizontal)

When you actually know the answer

We all want people to realize our brilliance, right? And what better way to showcase your knowledge than by answering a question in class?

It is a rookie's mistake to raise the hand as high as it goes, hold the breath, and look expectant. It is a loser's mistake to raise both hands in hopes of attracting attention.

No, if you want a surefire way to get picked, raise your hand hesitantly. Your body language should say "I might know the answer, but even if I don't, it'll be a good learning experience for me." Be sure to keep this attitude when actually answering or else the teacher will catch on to your rue straight away. Put a question mark at the end of each answer: "x squared minus 6, um... all squared?", "Is it... Hudson Bay?"


And there you have it. Three key techniques to take with you to your next lecture. Next time we'll talk about how to get extensions on assignments. It's going to be more of a workshop than a lecture- so don't forget to bring your girl card!

All That Newfangled Wizardry

My mom recently asked me to create a website for her. (Ps. Use Weebly. It's FANTASTIC. And so easy to get a custom domain)

I mean, I knew enough to stray away from questions like "Do you want breadcrumb navigation?", but I thought it would be safe to ask "What other pages do you want?", and "What colours are you thinking?". No, no. I continually overestimate her ability to understand "the internet"

But you know, eventually I asked questions more along the lines like "what will people be trying to learn if they come to this site?" and "how would you describe the mood of the site: sombre, optimistic, ruthless, aggressive..."

So instead of studying, I'm working hard at making a quite nice site, if you ask me. She doesn't really know how she wants it to look, so I'm sort of just winging it. However, this morning I did get one more piece of advice:

"Nana gave the advice that it would be good to keep it very simple because it should not just appeal to young computer savvy people."

Oh GOOD TIP, Nana! You know, here I was adding media that requires Active X version 8.0 plug-ins. Oh, you can't see the text? That's because you have to highlight the screen while pressing shift F6! You don't understand the font? That's because I wrote it in L33T. Duh! Mh-hm. Oh that bit? It's just a reference to some Chuck Norris meme that everybody young and hip has received WAY TOO MANY TIMES. You wouldn't get it though. Of course you can't see pictures. You didn't access the external server of the custom domain!

Yeah, thanks Nana. I just received an email yesterday from you that said "Happy Birthday Lindsay", so, I'm always ready to hear your ideas.

(For some reason whenever my grandma even says "computer" I want to scream. I know I should relax, but it's... yeah, it's insulting!)

On Being Feisty

In first year I had the greatest roommate ever, Ali. The ONLY ONLY ONLY time I can remember ever being upset at her was when we asked our friend which one of us would win in a fight. He said that Ali would.

The only way they could make me feel better was to reassure me that I could pummel the heck out of any other girl in the residence. I kept on saying "But I have feist! I have feist!" It was really important to me that feist was recognized as a valuable fighting skill.

Considering how badly I wanted to win theoretical fights, you'd think I'd be really eager to initiate some actual fights. I've actually only ever been in one fist fight. I was in grade 1. It was against a grade 2 boy. He was trying to ruin our sand fort or something? I don't know, I was a new kid in school and didn't have very many friends. I guess I thought I could make some by scratching poor Joel on the forehead because that's what I did.

In soccer I get riled up pretty easily. One time in an indoor soccer tournament, the game before mine featured the kind of fight movies should be made of. Two girls. The rolling around hair pulling and biting kind of fight. I was so jealous.

When it comes down to it though, I don't fight with my fists. I've had plenty of opportunity and reason to swing a quick right hook, but I never do. Sure, I pull jerseys and sometimes purposely step on people if they fall in front of me- but that's all part of the game.

No, the way I prefer to fight is with words.

I am FEISTY with words. I play forward. And seriously? Defenders are SO easy to piss off. When I get angry my vocabulary suddenly grows by thousands of words and I spew out insults that would make Shakespeare consider a re-write.

Or sometimes I simply say "Yeah? Well you're fat." Then they get so angry that they over commit and lunge left and right. You can dangle them like a piece of string. And then you score and when you're walking back to centre you can even put salt in the wound by saying something like "you really shouldn't let me walk the ball in like that."

Yes, when I play soccer, I'm the biggest bitch in the world.

I had a playoff game yesterday, and my team was getting outplayed SOOO badly and I was just not on my game. So I was already frustrated. The refs weren't calling anything so it was getting pretty physical. There was one guy with a really far throw- he would front flip with the ball and have so much momentum that it would go like half the field. But in the run and flip, he would always move about 3 metres forward from where the ball actually went out.

So one time he was about to throw, and I said "ref, can you make him back up? He always ends up 3m ahead of where he should be" and he said, "with a throw this far it's not like 3m matters". Hello- full of himself. Anyway then he threw it and he missed his target so the ball went out, and I said "hey! Maybe you were 3m back your player could have got that! Bummer!". And he told me to F off. I guess I deserved it.

My favourite soccer fight ever though was my sister's. She got called a BRACE FACE and A TROLL. WHAT THE HECK. She played the "use big vocabulary to make them feel inferior" card. But... brace face? Wow. If I ever resort to that... somebody beat me up. (If you can. Because I'm feisty.)

Most Likely To...

Yearbooks in grade 12. Aren't they the best?

Remember the Most Likely To page? Didn't it rock?

Every year at my school was the award "Most likely to discover a way to divide by zero" that always went to the smartest at math. Good God I wanted that one badly.

Anna ended up winning that and instead I was voted "most likely to represent Canada in the Olympics" and "most likely to be on SNL". Except the yearbook committee said I could only be one so I chose SNL.

Though my comedic career has yet to take off, I have fulfilled other childhood dreams.

For example I've always wanted to be a famous actor, except my sister told me I was too funny looking and I had bad hair. To be a famous movie star you had to be normal looking and have nice hair, I guess. Thanks, Laura.

I've obviously fulfilled this one, right? Because of all the movies I've starred - wait a minute. Nope, nope haven't taken even a single step in the right direction to becoming a famous actor. I haven't even performed in an improv show in like, a year.

The reason I'm not "going for it" is because there's no foolproof route to success. And engineering? Will get me a job. So I'm holding off on movie star until I win a lottery and can afford not to work. (Hi Niki. I am junior you, maybs?)

Some time last summer I also decided I wanted to complete an iron man. Now THIS I can do. And look how committed I am! The last time I went running was before midterms and the only biking I do is related to transportation! Heck when is the next race? I should register now.

I also used to always want to be a writer. A novelist, actually. I used to fill notebooks upon notebooks full of "my people". Characters and more characters, their relationships, the subjects they take at school, .... I had entire WORLDS. Mostly suburban teens but there was one that took place in the Yukon and another of rich Californians.

I LOVE creating characters. But when I start trying to write a book I can never get beyond characters and onto an actual plot. Peter often posts snippets of stories (at least, I THINK they're fictional...) which is a clever idea.

A lot of people like using NaBloPoMo or whatever as a way to force them to start writing more frequently. I COULD still be a part of that, but seriously? I obvi enjoy shattering dreams. Anyway maybe I'll revert back to that "be an Olympian plan", I've got a soccer game in a minute. Who knows!