Life's Too Short Not To...

• sing aloud in the parking lot
• laugh at past misfortunes
• wear bright colors
• get caught looking bad in a few photographs
• speak your mind every so often, even if you don't think others want to hear it
• blast your favorite tunes in the car. Don't forget to rock out at red lights!
• pay for some one else's drive thru order (on occasion)
• take two naps in one day
• eat non-breakfast foods for breakfast
• figure out what makes you happy, then do it even if people laugh
• hang out with people you like and who like you back
• try new things
• laugh until you can't breathe
• eat until your stomache hurts
• scream your lungs out when you go to concerts
• dance when you get caught in the rain
• turn off the TV and go for a walk
• enjoy your favorite meal without checking for calories
• go after your dreams, no matter how impossible they seem
• stay up until 2 AM hanging out with friends
• smuggle your camera into places where it's not allowed
• speak in fake accents
• remove the springs from your trampoline to use it as a hammock
• eat ice cream when it's cold out and drink hot chocolate when it's warm out
• feel the sun on your face and the wind in your hair
• laugh at terrible movies
• play drinking games if you drink, pretend to if you don't
• stargaze

I missed some stuff. Let me know if you think of one and I'll add it to the list.

*UPDATE: The highlighted entries were suggested in the comments*

Gone Fishin'

Yesterday, my uncle took me fishing. We climbed into a little boat with a motor attatched to the end, and off we sped into the ocean. After what was probably the most exciting 20 minutes I've ever spent in a boat, we stopped.

My uncle unwound the fishing line, which ended in a lure about the size of my palm. Then he realised we were out of bait. He called out to the other boat that was fishing next to us to throw him some bait. THWAP! A small squid landed right next to me, which my uncle's friend (who was in the boat with us) took and cut into peices. My uncle took a piece and put it on the hook.

He told me that once a fish was hooked on, he was going to give the line to me to reel in. I'd wanted to ride in the boat, but the only way he'd let me was if I at least tried to catch a fish. So I agreed. After about two minutes, there was something hooked.

I started to pull in the line which was actually a harder task than you'd assume. It feels a lot lighter than you would think it would, but the line is so slippery when it's wet that it's hard to get a grip. I started balling up the line to prevent it from slipping. "No, don't ball the line up!" my uncle called out. I let go, and to my surprise, started to get the hang of it after a while. After what seemed like forever, my uncle took the line back and pulled up the biggest fish I'd ever seen in my life.

I was shocked. The fish was easily half my size. "Oh My Goodness, it's huge!" I exclaimed. My uncle laughed. "So, what are we catching? Salmon?" I asked after a pause. "Nah, codfish. I wish it were salmon." My uncle laughed again.

Before too long, there was another bite. I caught a second, smaller fish.
Then one got away.
Then one about the same size as the first was hooked. I got my uncle to reel that one in.
Then I caught another slightly smaller one.
Then I got slapped with a fish tail as my uncle pulled it into the boat.

Then we went back to my uncle's house, where I just had time to eat dinner before falling into a proverbial coma. My mom tried to wake me up, giving me the opportunity to use possibly the best nap excuse ever: "Leave me alone. I caught my own weight in fish today."

Psychic?

I think computers can read minds.

I've come to this conclusion based on a chain of events that seems to happen quite frequently with mine.

First, something will malfunction with the computer. Immediately suspecting a computer virus, I'll run whatever anti-virus software happens to be installed.

The anti-virus software will inevitably cause the computer to run at snail's pace, rendering it useless for the remainder of the virus check. I'll leave, thinking that it'll probably be finished by the time I need my computer again.

By the end of the day, when the software is only 10% finished scanning, I'll get sick of waiting and try to remedy the situation by myself. But then the anti-virus software will refuse to stop running.

I'll use Windows Task Manager to try and force the program to close a few times, getting consistently more frustrated with each failed attempt to end the program.

Finally, just as I'm mentally weighing the Costs vs. Benefits of throwing the stupid thing at the nearest wall, the computer magically starts working properly again.

Like I said, they can read minds. :P

12 Reasons I'm a Nerd

Some people seem to think that I'm extremely well adjusted. Of course, the better people get to know me, the more abundantly clear it becomes that this is not the case. I do know that even though I'm much more well-adjusted now then I ever was in high school, and I still struggle to talk to people. I am (and have been for the majority of my life) a complete nerd. It kind of baffles me that people don't always immediately recognize it, because it's not like I make a ritual of hiding it. Consider, if you will, the following evidence:

1) When I was a little kid, my parents would buy my brothers beyblades/action figures as rewards for good behavior. My favorite reward was when she bought me books, particularly the ones with try-it-yourself science experiments.

2) Instead of putting a spoiler on my Chevrolet Cavalier to make me feel sportier driving it, I listen to "Driving with the Top Down" from the Iron Man movie sound track because it makes me feel like I'm in an action movie. Also, it's my favorite movie score.

3) I enrolled in calculus in 12th grade just because I was bored and wanted a challenge. And then I had fun being in the class.

4) When I was in elementary school, I was a pretty advanced reader for my age, so I often had to self-censor my speech so that my friends and siblings could understand me.

5) Movies based on comic books are my guilty pleasure...except after I've seen them more than three times and start to think about why whatever they're depicting could never happen. Usually the reasons I come up with relate to science principles in some way.

6) I currently have audiobook versions of 18 Edgar Allen Poe stories and poems downloaded onto my iPod. I intend to work my way through his complete works by the end of this calendar year.


7) I never thought I'd admit it to anyone, let alone to whoever may read it on the Internet, but I actually quite like school.

8) The first emotion I always feel after getting out of school for the summer is boredom.

9) I've only been asked out once, and it was by an immature guy in my class who thought it would be funny/impress his friends if he asked me out ironically. I rejected him, so hopefully his friends didn't give him too hard a time...although, if they did, it was most certainly his own fault. I'm not sorry.

10) I remember once hearing a rumor that the teachers were going to go on strike. It worried me (which was, in itself, a red flag), so when the school started giving out old math textbooks, I was one of the only kids (unsurprisingly) to take one, thinking I could keep up at home.

11) The last "for fun" book I read was a social commentary on people's search for authenticity.

12) Braces? Had 'em. Glasses? Still wear them. Also, I fit the tall-and-skinny stereotype to a T.

I plead guilty on all counts. But I have no intention of reforming myself of any of it. :)

Pedicure WIN! :D

Here's a picture of my feet:

And here's a picture of my receipt:

Like I said, win. :)

The Swarm: Chapter 2

After about three months of desperately scheming a way to get back to Toronto, Collin was finally starting to adjust to life in his new town. He had started to develope some coping mechanisms, for living in such a tiny hole in the wall of a town, including some friendships. The most notable of these was Celine.

Celine was petite, with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. She had a natural cheerfulness about her, but she managed to carry herself without being so chipper that it was irritating. He'd met her in his history class, where the two had bonded over a mutual interest in the Cold War. Before long, Collin had merged into Celine's circle of friends, making his stay in Pommetiers at least slightly more bearable.

Collin had also made one other unlikely friendship: Arnold. Arnold was an ederly man who claimed to be descended from the orginal founder of the town, a fact that he was quite proud of. He was also one of the few people in town who could speak fluent French. He had a son, but had lost contact with him in the aftermath of the son's decision to move away. The loss of this relationship had rendered him quite bitter towards the world, and he spent much of his time grumbling about how large the town had gotten over the years. He frequently complained about the "newcomers", as he called them, but was rather fond of Collin for some inexplicable reason.

Collin, being well raised, did what he could to help the old man out, clearing the remains of late season snowfalls from his driveway and bringing his newspaper to the front door when the mailman had thrown it on the front lawn.This, of course, only won him even more favor in Arnold's eyes.

Despite all this, life in Pommetiers had become bearable, but by no means had it become enjoyable for Collin. He still found it hard to sleep at night in the suffocating silence of the small town and was still irritated by almost every aspect of the town's identity. He was still unhappy.

Guess What Time it is?!?!

It's embarrassing confession time!!! Yay!!!!!

So, without further ado: I am 19 years old, and I still don't know my right from left.

It's pretty humiliating any time lefts and rights come into play, but especially so during driver's ed last summer. My driving instructor would keep telling me to turn one way, and I'd turn the other way. Not because I was trying to make her angry or because I didn't understand what she was asking, it's because I sucked at choosing the correct direction. Her and I didn't get along very well, so she took every wrong turn as a personnal affront against her instruction, so it pretty much made my lessons with her all suck, seeing as I sure wasn't going to admit to her what my problem was.

This is where it gets REALLY embarassing.  Because when I start forgetting things that I should have learnt in kindergarten, I apparently can't stop. When I try the "Make the L's" trick, I can't even remember which way an L is supposed to face. Not that it would really matter in the above scenario because using the "L" trick would involve driving with no hands. Which is not safe.

So yeah, now you know my deep, dark secret. Feel free to mock me in the comments section. ;)

The Swarm: Chapter 1

Staring out the window of his used car, Collin sighed. It was a gloomy day, made even gloomier by the prospect of moving away from the apartment in Toronto that his family shared. He loved the city, and it was all he knew. He couldn't imagine sleeping without the sound of car horns and ambulance sirens, without the constant glow of city lights, without the constant motion of city life. His parents were moving to Pommetiers of all places, and by extension forcing his teenage self to come with them.

Pommetiers was a peaceful little town, considered by many to be the very essence of idealism. Built around a hill topped by a lovely, century old catholic church and filled with crab apple tree-lined boulevards, a landscape of the town would not be out of place on a postcard. It seemed like everyone in the town knew everyone else, or at least had enough contacts to feel invested in the town and its future. Even the most modern of architecture was designed to incorporate an old, French village feeling. The result was that although Pommetiers was a sizable town, it had maintained the air of a small, French village. The whole town had a surreal, almost ethereal quality to it.

To Collin, however, this place was a higher power's punishment for his misdeeds. He hated everything about the place: the creepy old church with it's innumerable statues that cast their ghoulish shadows across the walls, the wasps the crab apple trees attracted, the snobbery of the "French" citizens, many of whom had a tenuous grasp of the language at best and no french ancestry whatsoever. But most of all, he hated that nothing ever seemed to happen. Although the town was actually Canadian and supposedly French, Pommetiers seemed to be trapped in a 1950's version of the All-American dream, complete with white picket fences, apple pies, and trying to outdo the Jones'. This aspect of the town's identity enraged Collin all the more. He didn't want to live in a safe little bubble of a town, he wanted to experience the real world, with all it's flaws and unpleasantries. This town wasn't real, it was too...perfect to be. At least, that was the case until THEY showed up.

To be continued...

Why Barbie Sucked: A Child's Perspective

I used to play with my Barbie doll a lot as a kid.

But she annoyed me.

Not because most of the playsets you could buy had her doing stereotypically feminine things (cooking, riding ponies, being a flight attendant, being a princess, etc.), and the few you could find ready to do man things absolutely HAD to wear pink while doing so.

Not because I realised that if she were real, she would literally snap at the waist. Little did I know that she was completely disproportionate and I would never grow up to look like that. I'm not sure I would have cared if I did know.

 I wasn't a Jr. Feminist. In fact, I was probably the furthest thing from a Feminist imaginable. I dreamed of becoming a ballerina or a figure skater and marrying a prince (or a hockey player if I couldn't find a prince). My favorite color was pink and the EasyBake oven was the coolest thing ever invented.

It was because she was so prone to wardrobe malfunctions.

Her wildly exaggerated curves made changing Barbie's outfit nearly impossible for my tiny 5-year-old hands. This was magnified by the fact that most of the clothing you could buy for Barbie was made of cheap polyester and had almost zero stretch to it. I would spend what felt like hours tugging at Barbie in one hand, and minature pants, skirts, dresses and shirts in the other, trying to get her ensemble in place without accidentally beheading Barbie in the process.

And when I finally finished, her plastic high heels would fall off as I played with her! Of course, this was assuming that I could find two shoes that matched in the first place, since there seemed to be a mouse with a tiny shoe fetish living in our house at the time and stealing them.

At any rate, I grew up with a healthy self image, despite having played with Barbie. In fact, the difficulties Barbie experienced in living her day-to-day plastic life illustrated to me that she wasn't a good role model, appearance wise.

So anyway, Barbie: Unfun toy? Definitely. Self esteem destroyer? ...I didn't think so.

People Watching on Urban Dictionary

Have you ever searched your own name on urbandictionary.com?

I look up "Brittney" sometimes for a laugh. I find the ones that are nothing like me pretty hilarious. Like the last time I did it, there was one about how "you don't want to mess with a Brittney". Which was funny because I'm polite to the point of being a pushover. You have to have pretty thick skin to get enjoyment out of it, though, because pretty nasty stuff can come up.

I also do it because it's fun to guess what type of relationship to a Brittney the author has in their life. There's:

1) The guy who is secretly in love with a girl named Brittney
 But he's too shy to express his feelings to her face, and so he writes love letters to her and releases them anonomously into cyberspace. Sort of cute and romantic, but also sort of sad.
"The goregeous girl who sits in front of me in biology that I'm afraid to talk to. I wish I could talk to her. I want to tell her she's beautiful and that I love her. I wish I could tell her how I feel..."

2) The girl whose name is Brittney
These ones are pretty easy to pick out. They're basically a paragraph about how awesome people named Brittney are.
"A goregeous, smart, popular girl who everybody loves"

3) The girl who is in a cat-fight with a Brittney
These ones get pretty nasty. Usually fowl language is involved.
"A dirty %#! skankbag who nobody likes. If she can read this, she's too high on her &#%! self to realise it's about her. What a #(@%^'ing  %#*#)@."

4) The person who accepts all stereotypes as fact.
Usually Britney Spears, preppiness, boy-craziness, and stupidity are involved.
"A popular girl who is also crazy. She probably can't read, but the boys like her anyway cause she's pretty. Example: Brittney Spears."

It's kind of like people watching. You can tell a lot about a person's life by what they have to say about other people (or themselves).