CALIFORNIA!

Ah, the time has finally come: come stuffy nose or mushroom cut, I am off for California bright and eaaaaaarly tomorrow morning!

I'm going to try to post as much as I can while I'm away, so there should be lots to look forward to for all of us. (But, I mean, mostly me. Because I'll have the beach and you guys will have pictures of the beach and me describing how awesome the beach is. Suckers!)

If you're new to the blog, leave comments! They make me happy. If you're old to the blog, leave comments! They make me happy.

See you in the sunshine, bitches!

xo

I Asked for Adorable!!!

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From Miserable to California in 3 Days

I.
Am.
Miserable.

I have a chest cold - AGAIN - and I can't stop complaining. I'm snotty, I'm whiny, I'm wheezy, and I'm crabby. I almost yelled at the couple in front of me at the bank because they didn't know what a PIN was; I just about pushed this dude out of my way at the drugstore because he was blocking the cough syrup I wanted; I am about to go apeshit on my neighbour because she's retarded and just started her laundry now - 7.45pm - and the machines are supposed to be off at 9pm.

I'm no fun, no fun at all.

I've tried everything to perk up my mood: I ordered Pizza Hut (mmmm... cheese!), I watched 30 Rock (mmmmm... Tina Fey!), I looked at my pictures from my last trip to Cali (mmmm... the beach!)... and no dice. I'm destined to be grumpy until I can breathe normally again and can bury my feet in warm sand.

But - I won't submit you to listening to me complain for a whole blog. I'm going to put on my big girl panties, forget about The Grumps, and make a little list of all the fun California things I'm planning so that you can get super jealous and I can get super excited. Hopefully we'll both come out the other side thinking how lucky I am to be embarking on The Best Vacation Ever.

1. The Beach. God, I love the beach. The whoosh of the waves, the crisp salty air, the dirty needles, the dead fish. It's like Eden, except without trees and Satan.

Seriously, though, how can you not be happy at the beach? It's so relaxing. The first thing I'm going to do after picking my pal Rikki up is hightail it to a beach, plop my tired ass down, and be quiet. I think I can convincingly argue that the last couple of months have been quite hectic for me, so I deserve a good solid afternoon of communing with the water and letting all my stresses go. Ahhhh. I'm starting to relax already.

2. The Concerts. I can think of nothing more exciting than a Jason Mraz concert in his adopted hometown on Halloween. And then I get to do it all again in LA the next night. It's basically going to be a double-dose of joy and hilarity, and I can't wait.

3. The Halloween Costume. I can't tell you what it is yet, but I can tell you it's going to be good. Very a pros pos, very riske, very... hilarious. It's like all of my dreams coming true in one outfit? Really. Expect pictures this weekend!

4. The Ellen Degeneres Show. I don't know what a VIP ticket means, but I have one and I'm thrilled! I'm hoping it means that we get massages, overflowing and extravagant gift bags, a fireplace heated only by burning $50 bills, and a pony. I'll be happy with good seats and a handshake from Ellen, though.

5. The iO West. I've been taking classes here in Toronto in the same style of improv as these folks preform and I'm excited to get a taste of what it's like LA-style. I imagine it'll be just the same, except warmer and with more sand in the underpants? Either way, it'll be interesting to check it out. Hopefully there will be friendly audience members that will want to take me under their wing and hang out with me (desperate = me). I'm flying solo for about 5 days and I'm hoping to make some friends. And by friends I mean rich men who will marry me so I can get US citizenship and leave behind the snow and cold and soul-crushing-ness of Canada.

6. The Spring Awakening & Wicked. I've been dying to see Spring Awakening since I bought the Original Cast Recording off of Itunes a couple of months ago. Lucky me, the tour just so happens to be stopping in LA while I'm there! Now I don't have to wait until May of next year to get my teenage sex on in Toronto (read the synopsis here so that the previous joke makes sense and is not just super creepy). And even though I've seen Wicked too many times to put on a blog so that everyone can make fun of me for being a loser, I'm going again while I'm out in LA. Megan Hilty is closing the LA run of the show and I thought it would be nice to see her again while I can. She's a really hilarious Glinda and I think it'll be really interesting to see how/if her performance has evolved.

Plus I am just a huge geek and will go see Wicked wherever/whenever I can. There. I said it. Shaaaaaaaaaaaame.

7. The Kyle Riabko. All my music friends seem to like him, so I'm excited to check him out and see what all the fuss is about. Plus, he's Canadian so we will probs bond over poutine and Stephen Harper and be bffs 4 lyfe.

8. The Seeing the Hills Being Filmed. I can't wait to blow the lid off of the biggest secret since Jesus being a father: the Hills is fake y'all, and I aim to prove it. I'll see you on the mean streets of Hollywood, LC. I'll be the one with my papparazzi camera following you wherever you go. No, not him. The chick. No, the one with the Tina Fey glasses. Nono, the one to her left. In the green. Yep. Yep! ME. Your worst nightmare!

I think that's it? I mean, I'm sure there's more. But my ass is starting to hurt and I'm so whoozy from The Sickness I can't really be bothered to keep typing. Plus, I have to yell at my retarded neighbour re: her retardness so it's best I stop here for now.

I'm planning on blogging my entire trip anyways so expect lots more starting this weekend.

Until then, friends...
m.

Britney's Vagina Or, Melissa Has Bad Ideas #47

It's been an absolutely beautiful weekend here in Toronto - sunny and warm and breezy. Add in the dazzling multi-coloured leaves and you've pretty much got the kind of October long weekend dreams are made of.

Naturally, as a budding photographer my first instinct is to grab my camera and capture the moment on film so I can brag to all my friends about how lovely it was and no big deal yeah I took that shot of the ladybugs having sex. So I set out for the Mount Pleasant Cemetery around sunset this evening to do some shooting in the favourable light.

I've actually spent a lot of time in the cemetery - it's a great place to bike or stroll around, particularly in the old part with its majestic trees and interesting tombstone variety - and since all the graves in there are super old so it feels more antique-y than super creepy. Plus all the hot joggers are in the old section, so I mean really? It's a no brainer.

Luckily for me tonight I was rewarded with more than buff, sweaty, super toned, barely clad (I could go on...) men - the trees were truly stunning and in the soft sunset light they appeared positively luminescent. I set about the picture taking with zeal, snapping off a round centered on the giant orange beast by the front gates. In my zeal, however, I managed to get my glasses totally covered in fingerprints, which is absolutely hands down the most irritating thing on the planet to me (somewhere in a posh New York brownstone Elisabeth Hasslebeck sleeps a little more soundly on her 500,000 thread count sheets made entirely of hair recovered from Dubya's shower drain). No matter where I am (super important work meeting? a nudist colony?) I absolutely have to clean my glasses at the slightest sign of a smudge.

After cleaning my lenses approximately 400 times I decided to take the damn glasses off already and hang them over one of the straps of my teeny tiny walking "purse" (it's the size of my cell phone and I can literally fit that and my house keys in there - perfect for a casual stroll around a cemetery or for Accessories That Are Impractically Small Day at the office). As you've probably already predicted, this was the worst idea that I've had since trying to untangle my Ipod headphones by a sewer grate - and yes, it just about ended up the same way.

After a particularly rigurous photo session in which I piled up a bunch of leaves and then kicked them around while taking pictures of it (it's called Artistic Vision and I'll thank you not to comment the methods I use to achieve photographic brilliance), I noticed that my glasses had somehow gone missing. At first I thought I was going a little crazy so I triple checked that they weren't actually still on my face or propped up on my hat. I think to an outsider I must have looked like Helen Keller trying to learn the word for face (what? too soon?)... either that or I just looked plain nuts, which is a very real possibility as only minutes before I had been chasing around a super cute squirrel who had a nut in its mouth and calling directions to him like he was the bitchy, hungry wannabe model on ANTM and I was a skinnier version of Tyra Banks (zzzzzzzzzing!).

After being absolutely sure that the glasses were indeed not on my head and must therefore be lost somewhere amongst the leaves I set about trying to find them. For convenience's sake, I'm going to make a brief list of all the reasons why this is possibly the most futile search and rescue mission since Britney Spears started looking for her dignity (some things we just can't unsee, Britney. NSFW.):

1. I lost the glasses underneath a 200 year old maple tree and if you've ever seen a 200 year old maple tree you know they have a LOT of leaves... 3/4 of which were now piled all over the ground, like a leaf version of the perfect storm.

2. As I was kicking up piles of leaves and basically making a mess of the area, the likelihood of the glasses being in the same position as when I lost them is very very slim. The likelihood of them being buried under a giant pile of leaves or kicked into a whole other location I'd never think to look in? Very high.

3. Looking for glasses without the aid of said glasses is a lot like watching the Mini Me sex tape : you aren't exactly sure what you're looking at, but you're pretty sure that it's going to end badly.

So I'm frantically kicking through the leaves, muttering to myself about glasses and squirrels and jagged pointy tongues coming at me, when the cemetery security patrol pulls up to inform me that the cemetery is now closed. Knowing that there's no way around avoiding looking like a total spazz, I tell the guard the truth. I think he must have felt badly for me (I would have read the expression on his face except that it just looked like a fuzzy blob) so he got out and helped me.

Together it took us nearly 15 minutes of kicking around leaves (and possibly a squirrel or two) to find my glasses. But the point is WE FOUND THEM! Unlike the Ipod situation there was no $400 rainbow at the end of this tunnel: there was a free rainbow, which is better than a $400 rainbow because it allows me to purchase something pretty for myself from LA.

Take a look at some of my pictures - let me know if you think the 15 minutes of misery and shame were worth it. I vote yes, but only because funny stories like these are why I started a blog in the first place. It's called Schadenfreude, and I will ride that horse until it dies from exhaustion.

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!!

Black Monday

Dear My Boyfriend Michael Cera,

I think we can both agree that we have had our fair share of ups and downs throughout our time together: the time I asked you that question about music that made you feel awkward, the time we made eye contact while you were in your SUV... so many precious memories, so many emotions. I thought we had seen it all and I was ready to look towards the future with you and plan our awesome life together in our palatial mansion in LA with our twins, Micaela and Melvin, our butler, Lloyd, and our limo driver, Pepe. We were going to listen to all of your indie bands from Montreal and talk about Canadian things like poutine and Nunavut and dance around the house in our socks to emotional songs you wrote with your buddies. I was going to buy you hoodies and you were going to buy me books. It was going to be just like heaven, with you as the really awkward sans facial hair Jesus and me as the chick who bangs the really awkward sans facial hair Jesus.

But then this weekend it all changed....

You let a movie about chihuahuas in Beverly Hills beat you at the box office??! A movie with the tagline "The Chihuahuas Will Rise"??!

Good God, My Boyfriend Michael Cera... I thought I knew you.

Crushed (literally, not in the figurative cougar-y way anymore),
Melissa

PS Is Jonah Hill single? Can you put in a good word?

Melissy Want A Cracker?

I guess one of the joys of living in a big city is that you have the opportunity to see many, many weird and wonderful things everyday. Yesterday it was The Barefoot Contaminatessa (was that too much of a stretch??), today it was (drumroll) a pirate riding a bike. It was dark and I was driving by him in my car so the details are a little blurry, but it was definitely a pirate. Riding a bike.

Since I don't think it's fair to thrust this image upon you without any solid frame of reference, behold what google tells me a pirate riding a bike looks like:




He didn't actually have a giant machete (that I would have remembered!) and I'm pretty sure his kickstand was in the up position because he was moving, but the rest is pretty accurate.

So that's two weird things two days in a row. If the Universe is taking requests for tomorrow, I'd really like to see......................... two kumquats dueling behind a paper tree.

Let's see you come up with that one, Universe!

I Saw This With My Own Eyes

A woman.

A woman walking down the street.

A woman walking down the street without shoes on.

A woman (who was not homeless) walking down the street without shoes on.

A woman (who was not homeless) walking down the street without shoes on. On Yonge Street!

A woman (who was not homeless) walking down the street without shoes on. On Yonge Street! In the pouring rain!

... I mean, seriously. Would you walk down the street, any street, in Toronto without shoes on??! Factor in that she was on one of the busiest and dirtiest streets in Toronto and that it had been raining (thus creating one giant, moist petri dish of bacteria, with a few cigarette butts and dead cockroaches thrown in for good measure).

Seriously. Factor that in.

Then think about it long and hard it for a minute.

And now answer me this:

How many different kinds of Hepetitis do you think she got from that walk?

My guess? Zero. Zero because if she is that stupid and yet still alive, she clearly has some sort of Jesus-approved luck/magic on her side and she, no matter how many dirty streets she walks barefooted down, will never ever be able to catch any sort of infectious disease.

And somewhere in Malibu, Pamela Anderson cries a single lonely tear.

(OMG. Did I just make a Pamela Anderson-Hepetitis joke? Am I an awful person??!)

(Wait.)

(Don't answer that.)

Cougar Shame

Yes it's Saturday night and yes I've just spent the last hour and a half looking at Michael Cera-related things on the internet. To my credit, I'd like to point out that I was actually looking for one specific Michael Cera thing but then there were links to this and that and before I knew it I got swept up in the black hole of the interweb.

Whoops?

Anyways... What I originally wanted to show you was a post from my favourite internet website ever (after my own), the Best Week Ever blog. Well, it was my favourite website until they made me feel guilty for loving Mikey C.. Okay, so it's sorta true that he plays a lot of awkward, dorky characters. And it's really true that he has a lot of indie cred (I credit his amazing collection of viral videos skewering everything from American history to Lily Tomlin's I Heart Huckabees rant to Alexsey Vayner's video resume). And it's glaringly obvious that the ladies of all ages (ha) love him because of he is able to be self-conscious in an unassumingly confident way (oooh! a paradox!). But still. I think it is within my right to adore him as much as I do! And instead of totally tearing down my Cera-love foundations (cerandations?) it actually linked me to a couple of hilarious and as-yet-unseen-by-me videos and blogs, reaffirming Michael's #1 spot in my cougar swoon line up.

1. Michael Cera's Top 5 Favourite Albums



Okay, so I've heard of 2 of the albums and love only 1, and when I checked them all out on Itunes they all sorta sound the same - synth-y pop stuff - and were not totally my cup of tea. Regardless. 2 of the bands are from Montreal, which automatically makes him cool. Cougar swoon status? Retained.

2. The HuffPo write up about the SNL live episode during the writer's strike.

The story goes that Michael was supposed to host SNL but was unfortunately (on all accounts) cancelled off because of the Great Writer's Strike of '07. Unbeknownst to me (well, beknownst but only in passing and I forgot about it until tonight) the cast, with Michael hosting, put on a live version of the show featuring some all-time great sketches/impressions and some never-before-seen stuff that got cut from the live shows. Every single part of me is in love with this idea and is upset for not paying attention earlier and perhaps making the pilgrimage to NYC to even stand near the UCB theatre and bask in the glory of this Show of Epic Proportions. The write up made the pain slightly more bearable, however. It's very LOL-y - 'specially the part about Michael playing LeBron James. Ha!

Finally, and perhaps best of all:

3. Michael Doing Juan-the-Latin-Superstar Leg Kicks!

Oh lord.... You can tell you are truly a Michael Cera fan when you sit through 5 minutes of pointless dancing (and still come out the other side enjoying it). Fast forward to the 2 minute mark to see the leg kicks. Not to ruin it for you, but he doesn't fall like his predessor. I know, I know. I was disappointed too.

Well, there you have it. I probably could have summed up my last hour and a half with a simple sentence (something along the lines of "No one will ever convince me not to like Michael Cera, not anyone on the Internet, or Jesus, or Michael Cera himself."), but I think it was much funnier this way. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did.

(And Michael Cera will, once he meets me and we fall in love!)

(Wait.)

(What?)

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!

I Wanna Be A Housewife

Last night a friend and I were lucky enough to catch Jay Brannan's solo accoustic show at the El Mocambo. He's out on his "Fat is a Feeling Not a Shape" tour, and with a catchy title like that you can your little bottom that I was there. I've been a Jay fan since seeing him have a three-way in Shortbus (amazing movie by the way... be warned, though, my Canadian friends - you'll have to rethink your entire childhood watching MuchMusic when you see the things that Sook Yin does with a huge black... well, I don't want to ruin it. But you've been warned!). He's got the voice of an angel and the looks of one to boot... and of course he's gay. Of course.

The concert was an interesting departure from my normal music scene, which I was rather grateful for. I think the last 5 or so concerts I've been to have all been Jason Mraz shows (hello, my name is Melissa and I'm a Jason Mraz fanatic) so it was nice for a change to be one of the few ladies in the audience and to not have anyone pull my hair or push me out of the way or call me a bitch for getting in the way of their picture. It was also nice to get there 15 minutes before the concert and to mill about without having to wait in line (the last show I went to I had friends in line as of midnight the night before. Like I said: fanatic). It reminded me how relaxed concert-going can be. It also reminded me how much I hate going to concerts with teenage girls - also at the aforementioned last concert my friend had a 16 year old dive between her legs so that she could get in front of us and take a better picture of Jason. It was awesome.

The show itself was lovely: Jay's music is earnest and vulnerable, emotional and sharp, and incredibly fun to sing along with. It was my first time seeing him in person and I was excited to see how his songs would translate live. I was not disappointed - he was witty and funny and just as gorgeous as I wanted him to be in the flesh. He also hit my song list trifecta by playing Soda Shop, Relax Your Neck, and Body's a Temple (my favourite Jay song). The crowd was loving him - quiet at the right moments (like when Jay teared up singing a song about an ex-boyfriend) yet vocal about having Jay take off his shirt... and pants (that may or may not have been me that screamed that out?). He was even generous enough to come out after the show and meet the crowd - he gets a little gold star in the "not a douchebag" box of my Singer-Songwriter Checklist for that one.

Aside from the concert itself, the other highlight of the night for me had to be the friends I met at the show- a big shout out to Jay & Steven (Stephen? We didn't get around to spelling. We were too busy finding out how much we had in common). They promised they'd come around and say hi and steal my pictures from the show.

Speaking of - linskies to my new flickr page and some shots of the concert. I used my old point-and-shoot camera so the quality is a little sad... I just couldn't risk bringing the big guns in and having to leave it in the car if it wasn't allowed in. I also have video of Soda Shop (plus the 10 minute diatribe about how Toronto/Baffin Island is hard to navigate) and Relax Your Neck. I'm only linking in Relax Your Neck until I can figure out how to use my video editing software to cut down the Soda Shop video. I'm pretty sure it's 15 minutes long. Whoops?



Next up on my concert list: Ray Lamontagne (I'm sending out good ticket vibes into the universe as this show is currently sold out and I will die if I can't see him) and 3 more Jason Mraz shows (1 in Toronto and 2 while I'm in Cali - you didn't think I'd go all the way to the West Coast and not see Jason, did you??). You can be sure I'll report back re: any friends giving birth to a surly 16 year old in the middle of any of these shows.

Apparently This Has Happened Before?

More newscasters, more laughing at the misfortune of others. This one is slightly more palatable because gravity's victim is a model and - let's be honest - us laughing at them when they fall is the price they pay for getting to boink Leonardo DiCaprio.

Other video highlights:

1. The incessant wheezy laugh (and nothing say hilarious like "hey you're going to have lung cancer in 5 years!")
2. The frequent slo-mo replays of both falls, including zooming in on the wobbly ankles
3. The calling out of the angry letters from viewers and the deflecting of blame (hey, the nightly news is a dog-eat-dog world... it's every anchor for himself)

And since we're on the subject, here are some of my all-time fave falling videos.

1. The Grape Lady



I find the hilarity in this video does not come from the obvious apres-fall reaction (although I do enjoy a good "I caaaan't breaaaathe! oh! oh! oh!") but rather the the Grape Lady fell after she tried to CHEAT and throw in a few extra vigorous stomps once the time was up. She wanted the free hotel stay and all she got was some broken ribs and a shattered ego. That's what I call irony, bitches!

2. Celebrity Chain Reaction Fall



This video is a lot like the model video because we get two falls for the price of one (Carmen Electra of the striperobics and banging musicians fame and Alison Sweeney of the Days of our Lives and losing weight fame) - and the bonus second fall looks like it really freaking hurt! Yay! Again, this is the price celebs pay for getting paid thousands of dollars to sit around all day eating from the catering table and having to only utter 4 lines like they really mean it.

Okay. I have to take a break from falling videos for a while. I have really terrible karma with this stuff and I am one flight of stairs away from recreating all of the above videos... Only my fall will probably be worse because there won't be any nice gentlemen in suits to help me up and Leo won't be at home waiting for me with a sly grin and an ice pack.

I Lied When I Said the Little Person Humping the Air Was the Best Video on the Internet

Um? Cause this video is totally the best video on the internet!



Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaha. God, I don't know what's funnier - the random leg kicks being passed off as dance moves that incited the fall or the fall itself. Either way, I'm very, very pleased with the internet for providing me with such a great ab workout today.

And before anyone even thinks about calling me heartless as I laugh harder than I have ever laughed before at Juan falling off the stage (and PS - he broke his wrist too!!! ha!!), check out the following clip.



Those are two serious newswomen cracking the fuck up as they report on Juan's stellar musical career and battered body.

If they can laugh at it, so can I.

(And you should too.)

(Story courtesy of the Best Week Ever blog, the Best Blog Ever... to grace the internet!)

(After this one!)

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.

Why Cats Are So Much Cooler Than You'll Ever Be

Try to watch this video and not giggle a little towards the end. Just try.

PS I wish I had cool videos of my cats. The best I could do is show you how Sofia sleeps on my lap (it's a laugh a minute!) or Bella hides under my pillows (I'm thinking of developing a sitcom about this).

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!

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, Or, 50 Reasons Why Melissa Might be a Cougar

Last Saturday I was lucky enough to attend the world premiere of Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist and I've decided to bring you all along for the wonderful and wacky ride it was.

Saturday, 1.34am: Oh shit. I'm fucking drunk. How did this happen? Where did all those Strawberry Buzz martinis come from and why is there a kid in a backpack giving me high fives right now? I have to be up at 6am tomorrow to make it downtown in time for the box office to open and get the extra tickets I need for my friends to Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. I need to go home. Now.

6.00am: Fuck this. I'm going back to bed before I puke.

6.55am: Okay. Okay. I'm going to get up. I'll try the stupid internet site and phone and hope for the best.

7.10: I GOT FUCKING TICKETS! God, I am amazing. Now, back to bed before I puke.

11.30am: I can't feel my hands and I really need to pee. And why do I keep dreaming about backpacks?

1.00pm: Okay. I slept through the worst of it. Time to get up and get some shit done before my Date with Destiny. And by Destiny I mean Michael Cera.

5.00pm: Tickets? Check. Camera? Check. Friends holding spots in line? Check. Cute dress? Check. Autograph book with photoshopped collage of Michael & I on a series of imaginary dates? Check.

5.30pm: There are a lot of screaming girls here for Michael. I feel two things: 1. I am wayyyyyyy too old to be doing this and 2. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Is that Finch from American Pie????!!

5.35pm: It totally is Finch. FINCH! God, I've had a crush on him for longer than most of these girls have been alive. He was the first boy that made me realize I had a "type" (nerdy, strange, and goofy hair). I also dedicated a blog-before-there-were-such-things-as-blogs entry to him on my old website. This is, like, totally full circle. Totally.

5.45pm: Where the fuck is Michael??!

5.47pm: Jay! Jay Baruchel! He's been in movies! He looks like Elvis! Oh, he's coming over here... Gotta get my camera out and - oh shit, he didn't just turn to me to pose for my camera, did he? Oh god he totally did. I'm a fucking photographer now, bitches!

5.50pm: There he is. Don't scream like a little girl. Don't scream like a little girl. Remain composed and remember that there is no "omgmichaelcera" in dignity, girl. Oh, fuck it. MIIIIIIICHAEL!!!!!!

5.52pm: So many people in the way. And of course he's the only one not to sign autographs so my pictures are all far away and full of heads... Oh, he is absolutely adorable! Look at his curly hair! And his shoes are so white! I just want to ruffle his hair and pop the collar on his cute little navy blue jacket and - no. No. I am a one faded jacket bedazzled with the words "Rock On" on the back away from being a full-fledged cougar. Must stop now.

5.55pm: Okay. Time to head inside and scope out the seats... Oh shit. We're right beside Finch! FINCH! I've got to say something to him, right? I mean, to be this close and not tell him that he is single-handedly responsible for shaping my love of the geek would be wrong, wouldn't it? Okay... Go for it!

Me: Hey.... I'm a big fan!

Finch: Oh, hey. Thanks.

Me: I didn't realize you were in this movie...

Finch: Oh, well I'm not really. My girlfriend is.

Me: (shit. It was the chick with the sultry red dress and big jugs, wasn't it? Of course.) Well... I hope you enjoy your time in Toronto!

5.56pm: Dies.

6.00pm-7.30pm: MOVIE!

7.30pm: Shit, that was good! It was cute and funny and there were some genuinely touching moments. And Michael was hilarious. And Finch had a cameo as JESUS (see: nerdy, strange, and goofy hair)!

7.35pm: Here comes the cast out on the stage... It's question time. I really want to ask something but I'm shitting my pants right now. God, no one has their hands up. WTF? I figured there would be tonnes of questions and... shit. Alright. I'll ask one. Ahem. "Can the cast name one song that they would like to put on a mix CD?" God, I'm awesome. "No, not from the soundtrack. Any song. Let's open this thing up." Ha! Everyone in the theatre is laughing at me! Hear that Michael? That's what our life would be like: sorta awkward and full of laughs.

7.36pm: OMG, my question just made Michael Cera sooo awkward. I mean, I realize it's not hard to do but man, the dude is shy! He looks so cute when he blushes though, maybe I can ask a follow up question re: boxers or briefs and - oh. Wait. I get it. Cougar.

7.37pm: Who are all these hipster bastards and why are they all in one movie??! Most of them named these obscure bands that I've never even heard of. WTF?

7.50pm: I am not stalking Michael Cera. I'm simply outside checking out this pretty grey Escapade because I really like SUVs with tinted windows and - my, that shadow inside is shaped a lot like Michael Cera's face! Wait. It is? Oh. And he's just turned around and looked at me and I was staring into the window like an idiot and/or crazed vagrant cougar? Awesome.

So that was pretty much my night. The excitement of seeing Michael in the flesh totally outweighed my killer hangover and I genuinely liked the movie to boot. It was a little rough around the edges but it was shot beautifully (there were many a panoramic shot of NYC at night and I mean, really? How many teen movies do you know that have sweeping majestic shots of one of the greatest cities in the world? I know of one. It's called Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. Have you heard of it?).

My movie highlights:

1. The cameos - Seth Meyers having sex in the back of Nick's Yugo; Andy Samberg as a vagrant (I assumed I looked almost as creepy as him while I was stalking Michael's SUV); Eddie Kaye Thomas (aka Finch) as Jesus; Michael Cera as my boyfriend (ohhhh shit. There I go again!).

2. Kat Dennings - I was not a big fan after The 40 Year Old Virgin so I was pleasantly surprised to find her not only enjoyable but really, really likeable in this movie. She had the right amount of edge, sass, and irony for the part and her chemistry with both Ari Graynor (Caroline) and Michael really brought the characters to life. She also killed as the tough-on-the-outside-but-vulnerable-on-the-inside leading lady.

3. Ari Graynor - Never heard of her before but have added her to my one-to-watch list (past honourees include before-they-were-famous Amy Adams and Rachel McAdams). She sparkled as Norah's high-maintenance friend Caroline and had some of the truly hilarious and memorable (not to mention cringe-inducing) scenes of the movie. Plus she's really freaking bangin' in person.

4. Michael Cera - I can never tell whether some of his one-liners actually scripted or if he's improv-ing them. Some of his lines are just so perfectly quirky/hilarious that I doubt that they would all be in the script like that. Example: "yeah... well. You are... two penises away from a Shania Twain reimagination video!" I mean, who the fuck could write that? It was so random (and thus, hilarious) that I want to believe it had to come out spontaneously during filming. I'd love to see Michael in something serious-but-quirky next - like Juno but with a more meaty role (a male pregnant teenager?). He is one of the lucky few who could bring the right kind of levity to a darker role and I'd love to see him take one some really serious acting. I think he's a far better actor than most people realize or appreciate.

5. The Soundtrack - I expected it to be punk-y and thusly not for me but it was actually smooth and soft and I can't wait until September 23rd for it to come out so I can listen to it non-stop and think about all the things Michael and I will do when we get married and. Fuck. I know, I know. I'll stop.

6. The ending when Nick and Norah finally connect and tune out the distractions of their respective lives and a secret concert by their favourite band in favour of each other. Call me a sentimental bastard, but the last line of the movie gets me everytime:

Norah: Are you upset you're missing it?

Nick: This is it.

Yes. I get it. It's cliched and trite. But by god if it isn't damn true..... It also ranks near the top of Melissa's All Time Favourite Lines from Movies that Make her Heart Sad along with this little gem from The Way We Were (speaking of sentimental...):

Hubbell: Katie, you expect too much from me.

Katie: Oh, but look what I've got.

(Cougar) Swoooooon.

Premiere papparazzi pics to come later!

things i am currently looking forward to:

1. nick and norah's infinite playlist






i got THE LAST TICKET to the TIFF screening on saturday night (which is, as far as i can tell, the WORLD PREMIERE). let's ignore the fact that i actually needed 3 tickets and selfishly purchased the last remaining one for myself and will go alone and ditch my friends because that's how badly i want to see it. the point is i'm going and i can't. freaking. wait.


2. breathing the same air as my (he-only-needs-to-meet-me-to-know-i'm-the-one) boyfriend michael cera.

also on the list of things to ignore: the nearly 10 year age difference between myself and mikey c., my cougar-like stalking abilities (fitting because of the age gap and also because i'll be agile like a cat stalking it's prey and - no, wait. this is just getting creepier), and the fact that i'll have to get the guts to meet him solo.

3. my improv classes at the impatient theatre company, which start sunday. apparently i'm encouraged to blog about the experience, so expect more info (read: embarassing stories about how i stood up there crying uncontrollably in front of 14 strangers and my instructor for 15 minutes).

4. watching sophie's choice and silkwood. i've decided meryl streep is the best actress in the world. i'm very glad i am so ahead of the curve on this. cough.

5. cali, cali cali: planning a possible trip in october and another in january. god, i love that state. it has in & out burger and the ocean.

6. taking better photos: i just read scott kelby's amazing digital photography book and i'm really starting to get inspired to push myself to the next level. now i just need a spare $1000 to drop on a mid-range telephoto lens and lens accesories. no biggie.

7. have i mentioned michael cera and nick & norah? cause i'm so excited it deserves to be mentioned more than once. cougar swoooooooon.

omg it's my 1 year euroversary!!!!1!!!11!!!!!

so, like, this time last year i was asleep in a bed off the office at the depot outside of arezzo. and i was probably getting bitten by mosquitos (like an idiot i left the window open and was therefore terrorized nightly by those little buggers) and dreaming about gnocchi al ragu (my meal of choice for the entire month i was away) right at this very moment.

this whole 1 year thang has gotten me thinking - a LOT has changed between then and now. let me share it with you in convenient list form so we can all enjoy it, shall i?

1. i'm no longer (as) scared of air travel. well, technically i'm just as scared as i ever was but now have a coping mechanism: a lot of gravel and my earphones discreetely hidden by the hood of my hoodie during take off and landing so that i distract myself from freaking the fuck out.

2. this blog is funnier now than when it was just about which stupid fucking hostel i didn't really want to stay in in rome.

3. i can outbike small child or one-legged zombies. i, however, still would not be able to make it up a hill in tuscany.

4. i have a lot more confidence in myself and my ability to handle myriad situations. meaning: i now wash my hair every second day and don't care.

5. i crave fresh mozzarella every hour of every day.

6. i know how to say watermelon in italian. anguria. ANGUUUUURIA. an? guria.

7. i now realize that you can fly halfway across the world and other than the better food, architecture, painting, and the centuries of history, everything is pretty much the same. oh, wait. except the guys in italy wear watermelon (anguria!) coloured pants and the guys in canada don't.

8. i want to travel more. lots more. to places like vietnam and india and switzerland.

and

9. i decided i'm going to be a comedy writer.

ta-daaaaaaaaa!