It's amazing how seeing a celebrity can make one become quite silly. Ten of us went for brunch on Sunday, about ten seconds into it we spot Ron MacLean at the table next to us. We just couldn't help ourselves, we pointed and giggled and made a farce of it all. 'Should we buy a pint for Ron? Is Ron having desert? What is Ron drinking? Is that his wife? No, no I think that's his daughter. Do you think Ron would like to see these pictures? Look he's going to the bathroom, one of you guys should go talk to him at the urinal. Ron's looking good in that suede jacket and perfectly ripped jeans, that raise really paid off. We fought for you Ron! How cute, he's here with his mother. Look it Ron's napkin, we should sell it on eBay!'

Since the dawn of time there has been a strange unforeseen connection between animals and prophylactics. It all started in the 60s when a little German Shepard named Skippy ate an entire package of birth-control pills, launching him into a state of temporary insanity, lashing out at loved ones one second and whimpering in the corner the next.



Lately I've been hearing more about this phenomenon. A friend's cats have taken to opening the drawer and pulling out condoms. Maybe it the shiny and brightly coloured packages that draw them, but the cats seem to really enjoy pawing them and depositing them in the most inopportune places where parents on surprise visits may find them. Secondly, I've been taking care of some dogs for the last week and that also entails picking up after them on our little walks. Like dogs in general they'll eat anything that you don't notice. I went to go pick up a little deposit and to my great surprise, there were condoms in it! Not one, but two! Which proves a point, anything a cat will play with a dog will eat. The one mystery I haven't been able to solve is where did they get them from?

I get paid to be fake. To be someone I am not. I have a feeling that all these work dinners are going to get to me at some point. Sure I am getting free food and the Uni student hidden deep inside is rejoicing for yet another dollar saved for a pitcher of beer, but the little kid in me is dying a slow death caused by painful conversations with people I don't know. All conversation seems to start and end the same. Where do you work? What do you do? The inevitable take two directions. The first is you hit it off and have found something common to jabber about for hours whether it be music or the latest Trading Spaces episode when that designer did that thing that made the girl beat up the other girl. Basically you are two peas happy to share the same pod. If you are not this lucky you must beware the topic of weather in a conversation. If you have to resort to this you better leave. Run kicking and screaming of you have to because you have zero compatabilty with this person. You have just moved down to the lowest possible demoninator either of you can think of. It's not a could scene and only the best finaggler can get out of that mess. Good Luck.

My work laptop won't start. This could be a problem.



I feel like I am playing a gigantic game of house except nobody told me that it would be difficult. The pseudo family left for Maui, lucky bastards, leaving behind their 2 one year old puppies and an 18 year old daughter who came back from the Dominican holiday with flea bites, suspiciously sounds like crabs (mental note -> avoid daughter if possible). They kindly took me aside and said 'keep an eye on her', in other words please please stop her from destroying our home that took us 20 years to put together and another 50 to pay for.



So last night was the first test as I watched her an her friends become inebriated with my girlfriend, she watched not participating. I did learn a valuable lesson, like Elaine Benice her vault combination is alcohol. She preceded to tell me a little too much about her friends activities in what is now my room. Then as they left I had to make sure they were taking a cab. It was very tiring. Then you throw the dogs in the mix which must be like having kids. You have to feed them, walk them and pick up their shit and no matter how good you are at they still whine and bark and generally ignore you.



I have to admit, it has soured my future in pet ownership. I may have to consider an imaginary pet. I think it will be a tiger named Richard Parker. He listens to what I say, uses the toilet, lets me pet him whenever I want and best of all, eats people whom I disapprove of.

Perhaps another reason I may be certified as insane; the latest dream sequence...

I was back in the town I grew up in with my Jetta, I remember it being all shiny and new and a bunch of friends I used to hang out with in high school came over to visit. After taking some mystery drug we decided to go play a game of pool in an old barn that had been converted into a pool hall, because that is the sort of thing that you do when you live the boonies. However, just as the mystery drugs kicked in making my vision melty we all hopped in my Jetta to pull donuts in a farmer's field. (segue)



My team lead has just pissed me off so in a fit of rage I quit my job. She came up to me the next morning saying that someone wanted to talk to me at the restaurant I worked at. To get there I walked across an impossibly big square, full of merchants and uneven cobble stones that make women despise high heel shoes. Once I got there I realized it was a trick, swore at my team lead again and sat down at a cafe. I looked up and saw people with blank expressions whom I recognized as my friends. I asked why they were there and Rick said 'We thought she was going to trick you'. Just then my team lead came out and gave me a sandwich.

We've been playing musical chairs at the office. The good news is that I have the wonderful corner office with the view of the highway and planes on their descent that many would sell there souls to the devil for. The bad news is I am only there for a month before I return to the life of no windows, no view, all the time. Again on the upside people have no idea where I am so they can't harass me anymore about my picture showing up in one of the trade rags. They made me pose for a hallmark moment between to symbolize vendor, distributor and reseller at the last trade show I attended and all day people kept carting the picture out trying to make me sign it until my face went seven different shades of red and they walked away satisfied with my discomfort.

Thank God for sunny days. It took all the energy I had to convince myself that:

a) it's not yet summer so I shouldn't be wearing the sandals quite yet.

b) that it is not acceptable to ditch work in search of a patio to drink pints at. This weather has me being very nostalgic for the Bomber Patio. I pity all those poor students this term who are unable to lure there friends to the confines of the patio to enjoy a pint as the escape the tediousness of class. That's what Uni is truly about.

It must be tough not being able to make the simplest decisions for yourself. The kid I live with suffers from it greatly. I don't know what it stems from, perhaps he is really insecure. If I sit for 20 minutes or so he will come and ask me anything ranging from the best time and place to meet someone to how long something should sit in the dryer. Were we all that way and just have the luxury of forgetting it?

Mp3's have made record execs scared that no one will buy CDs anymore so they have resorted to adding exclusive materials with the purchase of an album such as DVD's or music videos. I just purchased the latest Matthew Good album which employs similar tactics. With the purchase of the CD you are enrolled into a secret society at houseofsmokeandmirrors.com only accessible when the CD is in my mac and I have my membership card handy. The content actually makes sense, exclusive mixed or acoustic versions of the album songs in good quality mp3s. It supports the purchase and gives you something that is not freely available. There is also a greater chance that the mp3s won't hit the P2P networks, because people who have paid for the CD would be less likely to share something that they have paid money for.



With that said, I won't share the exclusive stuff, but I will share 21st Century Living off of the new album. It's a nice satirical look at Super Sizing. "I'd like an order of death with a coke".

I know that any thing anti is bad, but sometimes I look around to myself and think living in Canada is good. There is nowhere else that I would want to be and sometimes little things really hit tha point home. I was driving to Guelph the other day and I look up and see a fellow from Illinois I think, a good guy I am sure, but I felt sad for him. His license place had a giant picture of Abe Lincoln and some motto I didn't take the time to read. Abe was, and is a cool guy but I don't think a license plate is where his glories should be touted. License plates are meant to be plain in order to show off dumb vanity plates.

My new motto is if you are going to be watching a sporting event you should go in style. It was a sweet ride watching the Raptors get their asses kicked by Memphis yesterday in the corporate box. It's like having a butler for a few short hours, someone to think for you. It may seems a little weird at first when the second you turn away they clean up after you but eventually you get used to it and make a mess just to keep them happy when they aren't bringing you a drink, fetching you ice cream or making sure that the buffet (pizza, fajitas, chicken fingers, salad, veggies, sushi (aggghgggh sushi) and deserts) is stocked. I think I could enjoy being rich, but until then I am content sponging off of others.

I went and saw the Laramie Project last night at UW. It made me remember all the reasons I love the theatre, it's not a movie. It doesn't depend on special effects or some weird twist of fate to keep your attention. It relies on bringing a good story to life. A play is what's left after you strip off all the bullshit.



The Laramie Project was excellent. It had a point to it, about a brutal hate crime on a small city. It made you think, how can shit happen like this. It made you laugh, ha ha that bartender is hilarious. And, most importantly it made you wish for change and made you feel that it was possible.

The thing I hate most about keeping a blog is that I can never remember the amusing tidbit conversations that I found funny in a day. They would translate nicely into the site but I, like all dumbasses, forget the conversation and the hilarity loses it's chance to live on in cyberspace forever.

I watched Snatch last night, and can't seem to keep the quotes out of my head. I will recite them now for my own amusement. Who took the jam out of your jelly dounut? Proper Fucked? Perwinkle Blue! Ze Germans! It was nice to lie in bed and watch the movie thinking of how fun life could be it had a soundtrack that clued you into what was about to happen. The best would be if a Propellerheads song kicked in to signal a wicked awesome fight/car chase scene was about to happen.

I am stuck working from home today. It's not that bad at all. I just managed to configure a wireless connection from powerbook to thinkPad to share the internet so I should be able to get some work done, but I think the range may suck. Soon my hub will come and life will take a momentous turn. A lot of people are online right now. Rambling is fun! Over the weekend Rick asked me to be one of his Groomsman, I accepted. What better way to observer a wedding than that. You have some responsibility but not all of it so you are permitted to do your own thing once in a while. I was also told that I am lucky because if I were a woman I would have to spend beacoup dollars on many gifts.