March Malltercations

There is an overwhelming abundance of assholes in this city right now. Is it the sudden change in temperature? The failing economy? The daylight savings adjustment? I don't know, but I am one unsettling incident away from standing on a street corner with one of those giant "FREE HUGS" signs to try to cheer Toronto up. Yeesh. See below for a recount of one of the meanest, more horrible things to happen to me at the hands of a stranger. Note to my readers: don't get in the way of some average middle-aged man at 7pm on a Saturday night because he's got places to go, dude. Places to go!

Read on......................................................

so. i went to see the watchmen tonight with a friend (mmmm billy crudup wang) at the busy theatre in the mall by my house. i enter the building and cut through the bookstore and go upstairs to get to the theatre entrance. as i reach the top of the stairs, i swung my arm back (as one naturally does when walking or climbing stairs) and gently knocked someone behind me that was clearly right on my tail. he said "excuse me", which i took to mean "sorry for being on your tail old chum", and we kept going.

i rounded the corner was just before the doorway into the mall when i feel hands grab my shoulders and push me out of the way - not so violently that i fell into anything or was knocked over, but forcefully enough that it was obvious that it was an angry shove. i look over and the dude from the stairway is blowing past me and shoots me a look of anger. "fuck him," thought i, cause who the fuck puts their hands on me and shoves me??! so i say to him "what the hell buddy??!" as he's walking away and he whips back around at me and i shit you not yells this in front of the HUGE crowd of people milling in front of the theatre:

"well get out of the way you fat ass! your ass is so fat no one can get around you! i said excuse me and you didn't move. you're so fat! fat ass!"

no. no. not joking. he actually said that.

he was so angry and yelling so loudly that i decided to pull out my "hey, look at you crazy!" line that throws people off guard - so as he was screaming at me and calling me fat ass all i said back to him super condescendingly was "you know what? have a fabulous day. no seriously, have a fabulous day. really. fabulous. have a fabulous day."

in melissa speak, it means "wow, you sure are bat shit crazy. do you see how crazy you are? you physically put your hands on me and are now calling me fat in front of hundreds of people so that you can get to where you are going 10 seconds faster. really, think about that - 10 motherfucking seconds. you are NUTS."

the first time i said it he just sort of looked at me, shocked at my reaction. i think it must have made him angrier because it was about that time that he starting going off on exactly how fat my ass is.

the things that bother me most about the story is as follows:

1. that there are people that angry that exist in the world

2. that a man physically put his hands on me, a stranger and a woman

3. that he resorted to calling me fat etc. first thing, instead of myriad other reactions he could have had... it's a true sign of a man's douch-y-ness and intelligence that he resorts to calling a woman fat straight out of the gate. it's a low blow (no woman ever wants to hear the dreaded "f" word) and an obvious sign of a bully losing control. ugh.

4. that it's a saturday night - where the fuck is he in such a rush to get to that he needs to touch me and then verbally berate me in front of a crowd? crazy busy rush hour on the subway? i mean, i could have at least understood a little - but it's the fucking weekend, dude!

it also bothered me that he said it in front of a huge crowd of people, so obviously i was embarassed. blergggg.

Whatever, though. To paraphrase from a Sex and the City: I don't really care that much because I get to go on being me ie awesome, and that dude is stuck being him ie abusive and angry. I definitely win in this situation, no?

In other news: the medium popcorn I subsequently enjoyed at the theatre tasted extra delicious, in case you're wondering.

:)

New Years' Revolutions '09

Oh yes, my friends, you read that right: '09 is my year of revolutions, not resolutions. I don't want to try to do better, I want to make real changes.

'Cause I love lists, here's one about what I want to get done in 2009.

1. Be More Funnier
I'm going to finish up my improv classes at the Impatient Theatre Company. I'm about to start Level 3 (of 9 levels total at the school) and I feel like I'm learning a lot not just about performing but about writing and entertainment in general. Plus the school is conveniently located beside a McDonald's so, I mean, it's a no brainer.
I'm also going to keep blogging up a storm and hopefully find someone with a web design background who loves me and will work for homemade chicken noodle soup to design a pretty interface for the site. I know my awesome Photoshop skillz in designing the banner probably makes you think I could do it myself but alas I think that it might be beyond my mad abiliteez. Cough.
I'm also going to lose more shit in cemeteries so that I can keep finding a way to reference BritBrit's vazhoonskies.

2. Spend Less Money
Specifically, I'm going stop buying books. I have approximately 75 books just waiting for me to crack their spines and dig in. Yeesh. Which leads me to:

3. Read More
Truman Capote, Edith Wharton and the shooting script for When Harry Met Sally aren't going to read themselves. I am going to get through my whole pile by the end of 2009, even if it requires me to quit my job and move to LA and sit and read on the beach everyday. I won't love having to live in paradise and eat big pancakes every day, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

4. Beat my Little Cousin to the Splits
She thinks she's all that because she's most of the way there. Pssssh. I am going to teach her a lesson or two about flexibility in the elderly by beating her there. It was only 5 years ago that I could actually do the splits, so how hard could it be, right? Right?
Fuck. This one might actually be hard to accomplish.

5. Write a Script
Okay. This one scares me. I feel like I should take some sort of a class first since, you know, I have no clue how to actually write a script. Since I bought too many fucking books, though, I don't really have the money to do it. Regarless, I refuse to let 2009 slip by without even trying.
The first step, I think, is buying an antiquated cell phone. Thank you, Google!

6. Actually Go to my Ballet and Yoga Classes
I cannot let myself be deterred by the fact that I fell asleep and started snoring during the "meditation period" of my last yoga class (um, what the fuck do you think is going to happen when you turn out all the lights, light some candles and play soft music in a dark, hot room??! Namaste, my ass). I must go back and try to stay awake this time.
Also, if I am going to get serious about beating my little cousin to the splits, I better get back to ballet ASAP. Plus, my ballet school is located right next to a Jugo Juice, so....

7. Meet My Birth Mother
Oh, hey you didn't know? I'm totally one of those special kids that their parents got to pick out instead of just getting stuck with whatever the stork brought. Jealous? You should be!
Just to catch you up to speed: yes I was adopted at birth, no I've never met my birth family, yes I've always known, no it's never been an issue in my life (I actually think it's pretty cool), and yes I want to meet my BM (obviously). As of June 1st, 2009, all I have to do is contact the government and they'll give me her name and other identifying information, so long as she doesn't register on the "no contact list" beforehand. And voila!
And because I am an industrious little writer, I plan to start a sister blog (all the Melissa, but none of the stalking Michael Cera in the airport hilarity) about tracking her down. I'll link you up once I get that sorted out, hopefully sometime next week.

8. Make a Turkey Dinner
I feel like this is the biggest obstacle I have to overcome in my culinary life, and one I know that, should I accomplish successfully, will guarantee me lifelong bragging rights with my Nan and mom. Since I'm the daughter of the daughter of the family matriarch, a lot is riding on my cooking abilities - both sides of my family fully expect me to take up the reigns and cook the meals some day. And, I mean, I can't let them down, can I? Plus I really like gravy and mashed potatoes so it's really just a good excuse to load up on carbs. And wine. And pie.
(Don't fool yourself, this resolution might look like it's about family, but it's really about me and my corpulence. Suckers!)

9. Ask More Celebrities More Questions
Easy.

10. Go to Barcelona for my Jason Mraz Birthday Show
Oh, who am I kidding? Unless I win the lottery, this one is never going to happen.

Whew. 10 big things in 09! Leave your New Years' Revolutions in the comment section and my favourite one will win something awesome!*

*no you won't.

A quick recap before I head off into the night about what I ended up doing for NYE. As a life long Canadian and 5-year-long Torontonian, I proudly proclaimed to anyone who'd listen that I never deigned to visit Nathan Phillips Square for the CityTV NYE bash.

That is, until last night.

My thoughts? Well, I guess it was nice to experience once in a lifetime. I don't really do well in crowds (uh, can you tell?)

It was crowded. And people were rude. And it was cold. And all the musical acts were former Canadian Idols and thusly super, super lame.

But, whatever. Now I can say I did it. Plus, this picture more than makes up for all the bad stuff.


Adorable. I think if I had her vantage point (and also hat and fur-lined winter jacket), I probably would have had a blast too.

The upside to braving the crowds downtown was the picture taking possibilities. I got some cool ones of the skating rink and surrounding area.






So... there was that. Meh, I'm not the biggest NYE fan anyways (too my hype, not enough Melissa getting drunk and puking in her sink the next morning). Next year I vow to either find a party at which to get really, really wasted or to just stay home.

Regarless, it's a new year rife with new possibilities and new opportunities and new chances to mention Britney's vadge.

I sure am excited! Are you?

My Nan is a Baller & Other Things I Am Thankful For

Ahhh, Thanksgiving. A time for quiet reflection about all the things one has to be thankful for, like family, good heath, and the existance of cheese. It's also a time to eat so much turkey and pie that you think you'll explode. In other words, it's the best time ever.

This year was actually a quiet celebration in comparison to years past: my nan, my uncle Barrie and Auntie Ann, our good family friend Carol, and my parents and I celebrated today because my parents are pulling out for Florida tomorrow (it's okay to mutter "bastards" under your breath right now. I am.). As a result of the wonky day, half the family couldn't make it; which is fine because it meant more pie for me (List of Things Melissa is Thankful For #1: less family = more pie).

The day started off terribly (which in Melissa-speak means I got stuck in traffic). Actually, and I'm not even exagerating about this, it was some of the worst traffic I've had to sit in going North. It was bumper to bumper starting in Vaughn and going all the way through to the Georgian Campus college. Needless to say, I got grumpy. Fast. I also got bored so I took pictures, which by the way is suuuuuuper safe! (Um? I'm now convinced that this is how every traffic accident has ever happened.)

This is what I sat in for AN HOUR AND A HALF. (FYI - this drive normally takes 45 minutes. Feel my pain. FEEL IT!)


Actually that picture doesn't really do it justice. It looked more like this:



Awesome.

So after getting through the parking lot that was the 400 to Barrie, I sailed smoothly through to Parry Sound (<-- LoTMiTf #2: If I'd had to sit in traffic beyond Barrie I think my head might have exploded...). I've never seen the leaves turn this early in the year - I blame this on the Worst Winter Ever and the Why Is the Universe Making Us Suffer so Much in One Year Freezing Cold Summer - and the view was spectacular. So even though I was running almost an hour behind, I stopped at a park by nan's house to take some pictures.





They mostly turned out overexposed (cue Debbie Downer wah-wah horns) but I'm hoping a little photoshop magic will help me out of that quandry.

Aaaaanywang. Dinner was plentiful and, as always, delish.



I'm pretty sure no one can make stuffing as good as my nan (thus why 1/3 of the plate is made up of stuffing alone). The turkey was perfect and juicy, the green beans squeaky and fresh, the potatoes lumpy and soaked in gravy. I think I died and went to heaven!! (LoTMiTf #3: I did not actually die and go to heaven. It was a figurative death. Which is good because I'm not ready to go and who would take of my cats??!)

Alas, I don't have a picture of the best part: my nan's blueberry pie! When I was little this was the only thing I used to ask her for for Christmas. I put that in italics because that's how much my nan's blueberry pie meant/means to me. If paradise, love, Jesus, and every adorable and amazing thing in the world had a taste, it would taste like my nan's blueberry pie. I'm not even joking.

... and guess who was sent home WITH THE LAST SLICE OF BLUEBERRY PIE??! (LoTMiTf #4: Blueberry pie, the gift that keeps on giving.)

It was also great to spend some quality time with the family!*

*Quality time = a nap on the couch while my 85 year old grandmother cooked me dinner. Fuuuuuuck. (LoTMiTf #5: My nan is the nicest nan in the world!!! ...And she has the comfiest couch!!!)

Actually, I noticed my nan had redecorated a little since I'd been over to her place last. She has a new TV hutch and a new TV (this is actually sorta monumental because she's had the same ancient TV set for the last, oh, 87 years? It was the one that is its own TV hutch - basically a giant, woodpanneled box o' entertainment. She also needed approximately 64 converters to use this particular TV, none of which ever fully worked so she ended up having to get up and down all evening to change channels, up the volume, and search for the next episode of Cold Case on the satellite). As I was commenting on the change to my dad, he gave me the "Not so loud! Your grandmother might hear you!" look and dragged me into the spare room. I was confused so I thought maybe she redecorated in there too and something had gone awry? Everything looked the same though....... except for another new TV set, a giant flat panel set up that took up half the room (!!). I was obviously confused, so my dad explained: apparently my nan went to her local Canadian Tire, bought the fancy flat panel TV, got it home, and realized that unlike her old set, this new one would require a TV stand (they just don't make things like they used to). She had to then go back to the Canadian Tire and pick out a pretty hutch to hold said TV. Once home, though, she realized that the TV she picked out was too giant for the pretty hutch so she had to go back to Canadian Tire again and pick out a smaller TV. Now she has a new hutch and 3 TVs and apparently everyone in the family is not to acknowledge this fact under any circumstances.

I, however, don't live by the rules so of course I ask my grandmother about the sudden TV influx.

Me: Nan, you sure do have a lot of TVs now! You're a baller!

Nan: ... What's a baller?

Me: It's like... a basketballer. Someone who plays basketball.

Nan: Oh?

Me: It means you're living large!!

Nan: Well, I guess so?

Me: ...So if you need to get rid of that big flat panel in the spare room let me know because I could definitely use a new TV.

Melissa: Best Grandkid Ever?



(LoTMiTf #6: Seriously, I really do have a great family, surplus TVs aside. I am thankful that they are in my life and that they let me call them ballers and just go with it instead of openly asking what the fuck I am talking about. I'm also thankful they let me nap after The Drive From Hell and that they feed me and teach me how to knit and love me for being me. I really am one lucky kid!)

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!!

Melissa's Law

It's 5.15pm and I've just purchased my much-longed for Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist CD and can't wait to tear the plastic wrap off of it and crack that bitch open so I can see pictures of Mikey C. and picture him without his shirt on (cougar swooon).

I walk with urgency to the subway station and get my token ready for the surly token taker when I see a group of people milling in front of a couple of subway cops. I look beyond them and see an unsually large crowd standing in front of a packed-to-the-brim train with its' doors open, going nowhere.

...Something is up, and I bet you it's not going be fun.

Turns out that there are "signal problems" at Eglinton Station - Eglinton Station also known as MY station. The Powers That Be have closed the Northbound Yonge subway from Bloor to Eglinton, leaving me stranded at Dundas unless I figure out another way to get me and Mikey home for some quality one-on-one time. Firstly, "signal problems" is just another word for "subway suicide jumper" (though why they have to close half of the fucking line for a jumper, I know not... so maybe they were actually telling the truth this time??) and secondly, this is really fucking inconvenient.

I end up having to take the subway southbound, go around the loop and get off at Eglinton West station. I then have to board a bus Eastbound through rush hour AND construction in order to get home nearly an hour later.

So I get it Subway Gods: you aren't pleased with anyone railing against your loyal masses. Message taken. But you've just taken 75% of my material away from me, making my blog basically about how much I love Michael Cera with the occasional video of a Latin superstar thrown in for good measure.

If your point was to make me look like a deranged woman obsessed with a 19 year old boy who takes an abnormal amount of pleasure out of portly people falling, then you've succeeded.

*cough*

Commuter Hell

I'm pretty sure that the high gas prices have forced every asshole off the road and onto my subway train in the morning.


That douche that used to cut me off even though there was no one behind me and he turned left after 2 seconds anyways and had to slam on the brakes to make his turn and cause me to almost hit him? I'm pretty positive it was him who physically pushed me out of the way this morning to get onto the train before me. The asshole woman who rode my ass every morning from 8.37 to 8.52 even though it was bumper to bumper and there was no way for me to go more than 15km/h without ramming the car in front of me? It was almost definitely her who was all up in my grill as I entered the subway car and nearly pushed me over in her hurry to get in and go nowhere. The uppity bitch in her black Mercedes with tinted windows who won't let you over no matter how long your signal has been on or how close you inch towards her? She was definitely the one blocking my access to the pole I need to hang on to for dear life everytime the subway lurches forwards or hurtles to a stop. She was also the one who shot me the death stare when I fell into her after our train slammed on its brakes and I lost my balance due to not having anything to steady me, anything being maybe like you know a pole.

I can't speak for everyone (read: anyone?) but I personally try to make my morning and evening commutes as civilized and courteous as possible. I enter a subway car and I move in as far as possible, trying to maximize space so that everyone can get on and we can all get home as fast as possible and take off our pants and eat some cheese (okay so maybe I am just speaking for myself here). I look right & left, front & back to make sure that my elbow isn't sticking into someone's side, my hair isn't in someone's mouth, and my bootay all up in someone's nether-area. I place large objects like my backpack (or the shotgun I plan to bring with me very soon unless something changes or I go on valium so I no longer have to feel feelings) at my feet so it isn't obstructing other passengers. I exit the train to allow other people off. I give my seat to the elderly or the pregnant teenagers. I am a good freaking subway rider.

But, and I promise this before all of The Internet, if one more person pushes me onto the train, refuses to move in just a little more so I can press myself between the sea of bodies and the flimsy plastic doors that are the only things that seperate me from this pathetic commute and certain death, or forces me to cling to the 2 inch area of spare pole that exists only under their armpit because they are reading the paper and absolutely must have that 3 feet of personal space around them in order to do so, I am going to have to get drastic.

You hear that commuters in Toronto? You better start being nice to me or else I promise to do the following without fail every fucking morning and every fucking evening until you change your nasty ways:

1. What's that sound? Oh, it's just me blasting my 90s techno music from Dance Mixes 1991 through 1994 at top volume on my Ipod.

2. What's that violently thumping you in the back everytime the train moves the slightest bit? It's my backpack. My backpack full of bricks and assorted other pointy things.

3. What's that smell? Sorry but I absolutely had to bring along my fine homeless friend Petey here. It's almost Christmas after all and the guy just needed a comfy place to relax and set down his giant bags full of recyclables for a bit. Don't mind him, he'll just lie across these three seats during rush hour so the train is even more crammed. You can probably just ignore his rants about the Commies and tin foil, too.

4. What's that look for? Don't even try to touch any part of my body with any part of your body or I will give you a kind of stink eye that you only thought possible in your nightmares.

5. What's that taking up the extra seat? It's my purse. And no you can't move it grandpa so I guess you're just going to have to ajust your crutches so that you get more comfortable. It's only a broken hip and my purse is Louis fucking Vuitton after all.

6. What's that disease? I don't know, but you best believe that I'm going to cough right in your face and wipe my snotty nose with my hand and then place it squarely back on the pole aka bacteria breeding ground so that you get what I get next week, just in time for your big presentation and conference call that can't be rescheduled.

7. What's that wailing? Don't worry, it's just my (borrowed, thank god) set of quadruplets. Aren't they sweet? And thank you so much for squishing yourself into that corner over there so I can fit in my giant-sized Jeep stroller with the extra thick wheels and Hummer-grade shocks (did you know that if I really wanted to I could push this stroller through the frozen tundra? I mean, I'm not going to or anything, but it's nice to know that I have that option). Oh? They spilled their sippy cups full of grape juice all over your brand-new off-white Banana Republic cashmere sweater? I'd apologize and offer to pick up the dry cleaning bill but really? That sweater looked like shit on you anyways.

I have a few more sinister promises up my sleeve, but I think it's best to save some surprises for later (I don't want to ruin it, but let's just say that there may be monkeys and the ebola virus involved somehow! But try to contain yourselves until the big reveal, okay??!).

God, it's great to be back to work!

Life Lesson #42: If You Say You Do Something, You Better Have Proof

So I've started telling some people that my Big Life Dream is to be a writer and invariably they always pose a series of follow up questions about it. Though it's an obvious reaction, I guess I didn't bother to think too far ahead about it because everytime I'm put in the hot seat I always get stumped. It goes a little like this:

Me: I've been doing a lot of thinking about what I really want with my life and I've decided that I'm going to be a writer.

Them: A writer? Wow. Good for you! What do you write?

Me: (Shit.) Uh, well I am working on some things right now. (No I'm not.) And I'm going to LA in November. (At least that part is true.) And I have a blog... (That I don't tell anyone about and thusly no one reads.) So it's all coming together! (*crickets*)

If anyone asks for me, please tell them I am riding the subway all day looking for shit to write about.

Coming tomorrow: The Man Who Took Up Two Seats: An Obsese Man's Journey Underground To Get To Work.

The New Old Post

Oh lordy! So many new things. Because I am lazy, it's late, and because I can, here is a handy reference list for you:

1. New Old Blog: Look up. Look waaaaay up! See that fancy orange floaty thing with the blog title and little red hearts? Yeah, I totally taught myself how to do that in Photoshop tonight. In addition to the jazzy new banner, I've also streamlined the labels for my posts (also: made them funnier - or, in the case of the Michael Cera label, creepier), edited some shit out (ha), and did a little house cleaning with the pictures and general blog info. More to come - including a detailed post about what the "donkey kick" label is and some background info. Melissa: best blogger ever?

2. New Old Michael Cera: Still a cougar, still in cougar love with Mickey C., tried to photoshop the crowd out of my premiere pictures of him and failed miserably. Okay so this one is all 'old' and not 'new' at all. But I had to stay within the theme so suck it.

3. New Old California: OMG! OMG you guys! I booked my tickets to Cali for a over-a-week-long adventure in the sunshine state (wait - is the sunshine state Florida's nickname? Well, you know what I mean). I am SUPER excited, obv. I get 2 Jason Mraz shows, at least 6 good mraz-friends, hopefully plenty of celebrity sightings, Jamba Juice, In n' Out Burger, the ocean, and some quality time with some local family. I think it is actually unhealthy to be this excited about it, really.

I also have a video of my best-question-ever from the N&N premiere last Saturday (mad props to Jessica, my mraz-friend with amazing youtube skillz). Check it out in the N&N post below. It might be the best thing to ever grace the youtube archives, if I do say so myself!

the ups and downs of biking

um? i had an interesting ride tonight...

i'll give you the good first: i am so fucking awesome at biking now!!

when i first started i was slow and sweaty and surly. now i'm fast and sweaty and (slighty less) surly! the hills are easier, i'm in higher gears, and my heart doesn't feel like it's going to explode from the exertion. i'm really really REALLY pleased with my progress. if i put this in zombie terms for you, i'm pretty sure i could go faster than an elderly zombie who had just eaten and maybe wasn't chasing me with the gusto of a hungry, younger, fitter zombie.

yay!

now for the bad: all my new biking skillz did not prevent me from almost crashing into TWO seperate bikers tonight, one of whom was a small child whose father freaked out on me.

being the emotional, sensitive girl i am i immediately felt awful and totally guilty. but then i realized that it totally wasn't my fault! it's not the kid's either, because he's just a kid and new to a bike. it was, however, completely his dad's fault since he let his novice child ride in a busy bike intersection without really watching him closely. i, thank goodness, was watching him so i was able to sorta predict his move and swerve out of the way in time to avoid hitting him dead on - but not before he panicked, braked hard, fell over, and set his dad off on me. eep.

having had two freak near-accidents this evening, i feel like there must be a lesson to be learned through it (naturally). in both cases i was paying so much attention to the other person's moves that i lost all confidence in my own. had i just gone straight ahead on the path i was intending to take with confidence, i would have avoided both bikers all together. they would have been able to predict my path easily and avoid me.

now, bear with me a minute... because isn't this exactly what i should do with my life, as well? i find that oftentimes i get lost in the worlds' and opinions' of others and allow myself to be diverted from my own path because of them. if i was just confident and true to my own path, my ride through life would be a lot smoother.

...what? they can't all be posts about oral sex!

smoochie smoochie

ah, the first kiss... so innocent, so pure, so... sloppy.

i waited for what seemed like an eternity for my first kiss. somewhere along the line i guess i decided i was going to hold out for Something Perfect and so i waited. and waited. i was just about to get mee to a nunnery when fate stepped in and kicked my overly-analytical self in the ass.

i was out with a couple of girlfriends driving around sudbury (of course!) and we were actually about to call it a night when we ran into a couple of familiar faces (we recognized them from our high school - they were 3 years ahead of us) in the parking lot where i was dropping my friend back off at her car. i don't even know why we all started chatting or how we ended up making plans but next thing i know the 5 of us were in the valley (of course!) on a beach until nearly 5am.

nothing happened that night, nor the next when they showed up at our work's weekley kareoke lame-fest. but i was interested. very interested. so much so that (you might want to be sitting for this part) i showed up at his house unexpectedly one day to "catch up" (i still can't believe i did that). email addresses were exchanged and much online chatting ensued.

a couple of weeks of this holding pattern ensued and eventually movie plans were made and had. afterwards we opted for more driving around the city (of course!) and we ended up off long lake road high up on a hill with an amazing view of the lake (that was totally not my plan *cough*). i was too nervous to make the first move so i waited for something to happen for - wait for it - TWO HOURS.

finally, i gave up and suggested we drive back home, which must have clued him in. (i guess the dark, secluded area wasn't enough of a tip?) he couldn't believe that he hadn't realized sooner why i had brought him up there.

so there, in my pretty red jeep in the dark in the middle of nowhere and to the sound of the rain outside, i had my first kiss.

for the girl who waited all that time for Something Perfect, it sorta was.

EPILOGUE

before you get all "awww" on me, don't worry, it ended up going down in flames eventually. something about me catching him the back of a police car? or me telling him i "really, really liked him" in the middle of the dance floor at a club in guelph?

ah, but nevermind all that. let's just focus on the Something Perfect, shall we?

what happens when your dreams come true?

wow, peeps. june 4th shall happily go down in the history books for me...

today i met my idol.

today i conquered my fear yet again.

today i was a little more ready.

today i said my piece.

today i shone.

today i knew what to expect.

today i did good.

today someone special to me heard what was in my heart.

needless to say, it meant a lot to me. i've been looking for some sort of sign about the direction my life needs to take, and today i was given a clear message.

i get it. and i'm going to waste no time trying to make reality the whispers that have been circling for some time.

i feel good, people. i feel really good.

all love,
me.

PS i always secretly wondered if when your dreams finally came true and when things were just as good as they possibly could be, it was a sure sign that you'd be hit by a speeding bus in one of life's little ironies. i'll keep you posted on this. (or not, depending on whether or not i'm dead.)