Welcome Back Sid

Sidney is back, and I'm loving it. Two goals, two assists. Four point night. And all of the "Welcome back Sid" signs people were holding up made me cry. I'm so happy for him. Welcome back future husband!

How to (Successfully) Make Sidney Crosby Fall in Love with Me

Today, while I was sulking my room being a skeleton monkey, I checked the Pittsburgh Penguins website and just about died. "Sidney Crosby to Return to the Line-up Monday" is what the headline read. It was over. I couldn't control my wonderful, high-pitched screams of joy. I think a couple of dogs barked when my screams were heard across Kingston. Anyways, my love for Sidney bloomed a thousand times over when I heard this, so I decided to rekindle my plans to get him to fall in love for me. These plans are intense and will most definitely work, so be warned. And don't try to steal my man using them, or you will find the head of your beloved horse in your bed next to you followed by many other disturbing things.

1. I will find someway to meet him. Now, this meeting session cannot be at some autograph signing. It has to be an intimate experience where he looks through an aquarium into my eyes and falls in love with me. So, like a pet store or a Sushi restaurant or something.
2. I will go down to New Orleans or England or something and find some deep, deep black magic books. I will them become extremely powerful after studying the endless pages of evil. After, I will find Sidney Crosby and kill everyone in the world and make them zombie servants so we're the only ones left  on the planet and he will fall in love with me.
3. I will create a false apocalyptic disaster lie and tell Sidney about it. I will them create a diversion and sneak into Sidney's home. He won't be scared of me because he trusts me now because I warned him of the apocalypse. We will hide in the basement until it passes, will fall in love and then realize there was no apocalypse at all and proceed to laugh.
4. I will become a Grecian siren and hypnotize him with my beautiful voice. He will then fall in love with me because I'm a siren and they're awesome. Plus, he's under my spell.
5. I will save his life, like taking a bullet for him, and he will then become internally grateful to me. He will want to marry me out of pity but I will be all demure and humble and say "you don't really love me, it's okay." He will then run out of the hospital into the pouring rain and see a montage of all of the great times we've had together. He will then realize he really does love me and run back in only to find I have slipped into a coma. He will then cry and say "Emma, I really do love you. Please wake up. I love you" and at that exact moment, a tear will fall on my face and I will awake and say I love him too. Then all will be happy and he will love me.

The End A Very Potter Era

Yesterday at 2:32 am, I said goodbye to some of my best friends: Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter and every other character that seemed to shape my adolescent life. No, I'm not insane. I know they're not actually real, but they might as well be. I was first introduced to Harry Potter when I was eight years old. I remember sitting in my warm bed with Mummy at night, listening to her read the first 3 books for me, never wanting her to stop. She always changed her voice to fit the characters that seemed to make the novels come to life (my favourite impression was Ron). I had every Potter stuffed animal you could think of, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fluffy, Hedwig, Scabbers, Crookshanks and even Trevor the toad. I had Harry Potter Lego, Harry Potter Scene It! and a Harry Potter stationary set. Harry Potter was the first book I have ever, truly, loved.

    When the movies started coming out, I was mesmerized. Everything I had ever imagined had come to life right before my eyes. Diagon Ally, the Hogwarts express, and Hogwarts itself welcomed me whenever I walked into the theatre or popped a DVD into the player. The characters were real to me then, as real as my real friends and my real family. Daniel Radcliffe was actually my first crush. I've had many others from the movies after that; Tom Felton, Robert Pattinson, the Phelps twins, Rupert Grint and now, Matthew Lewis. I'll never forget the love I felt for those boys. When I was sitting my movie seat, clad in my Harry Potter 3D glasses and Gryffindor scarf, I started to weep. It actually hit me like a unforgivable curse; this was going to be the last Harry Potter movie. The last time I saw my childhood heroes on the big screen.

     This was now a decade of my life that I've spent with these characters. I've grown up with them, learned from them and loved them. By watching this movie, I said goodbye to my childhood and to everything I've ever known. As I make my way to University in the fall, I'll try to think of the life lessons I learned from Harry Potter and I'll never forget the way they shaped my life. I'll even use my patronus charm (which is apparently a wolf) to fend off the terrible things that might arise in the future and try to soar as high as my Wingaurdium Leviosa charm will allow me. That was unnecessarily nerdy, but I don't care. So this is my farewell to Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Wherever I go and whatever I do, I know Hogwarts will always welcome me home. Mischief Managed.

No more Superstar

Max Talbot is now on the Flyers. Excuse me while I go burn things.

Isn't He Lovely

   I was watching Glee the other day, and I found an unexpected new lover, well, almost. Legs, wheels, hot wheels or as I like to call him, Artie Abrams. Artie is the only glee member, and the only person at the school, in a wheelchair. I felt bad for him during the first season, but then he just got annoying when he yelled at Tina and had a weird obsession with white rappers. But in this episode, he was actually the cutest thing I've seen. He came into his girlfriend's classroom and sang her "Isn't she Lovely" so she'd go to prom with him. Awwh! His voice was as smooth as his awesome wheelchair dance moves. After he mesmerized me with his romantic baby song, my mom asked me if, if he was real, would I go out with him. I asked her to answer first, and it took her a while to respond. I was shocked. Artie, if he was real, is one of the sweetest guys I've ever seen. His glasses are adorable, his sweater vest collection is incredible, his voice is fantastic and his obsession with white rappers, although creepy, is hilarious. Not to mention his kind little heart. She eventually said she would, even though she can't stand men that are shorter than her. I guess people can't see past appearances sometimes, no matter how hard they try. But it's okay, because if Artie magically became real, i'd be with him in a heartbeat and we could wheel into the sunset to live happily ever after.

A Group that Works Hard, and Plays Even Harder

Chicago; a city that works hard, and plays hard. I definitely had a fantastic time the city. The shows were great, the museums were fascinating and the people I went with are like my family. So when I heard that some of them did something in Chicago that was a little misguided, to say the least, I was mortified. I really thought they knew better than that. That since we were music students, we'd understand the horrors what that thing can do to you. But kids are kids, and it was a stupid decision. Even thought, I was horrified when I heard the news, I thought about something else. Something that made my stomach churn. Who would tell on them? I mean, they did something questionable, I understand that, but who would really dislike them so much to completely rat them out? What they did really didn't hurt anyone, or put anyone in extreme danger.  So the person who told on them obviously has some sort of vendetta against them. Everyone in the program is connected, though their love of music and playing together, as a family, in an ensemble. I don't know about you, but I would never rat out a family member for something so stupid. Even if I didn't agree with their choice of doing it.

"I Call Dibs on Harry": A Wedding of Royal Proportions

     On Friday morning at 4:00 in the morning, I was seated in front of the television wearing yoga pants, my Jonathan Toews Chicago Blackhawks shirt and large white hat covered in roses. If someone were to glance into the living room from the street, they'd probably be wondering where my straight jacket was. But I was not in fact insane, I was just getting into the spirit for the Royal Wedding! I was so tired that morning, that forgot to put the toilet seat down and almost fell in the toilet. It was really quite terrifying. But when Prince William and Harry came onto the screen, clad in their military uniforms and ear-to-ear smiles, my eyes lit up with happiness. William looked so darn handsome! Harry looked pretty darn good too. Really good in fact. My 5 year romance was instantly rekindled with the younger, rebellious Prince.
          I almost fell asleep again until Kate Middleton stepped into the car going to Westminster Abby. She looked so beautiful waving to everyone with her adorable (and priceless) tiara! It wasn't until I saw her entire dress that I freaked out. It was so classy and elegant that I felt really under dressed in my hockey shirt. Watching the entire event was a honour, and something I'll remember for the rest of my life. I witnessed history, and I loved every moment of it. All and all, the Royal Wedding wasn't really about Kate's dress, Harry's hotness, the tiara, the kiss, Princess Beatrice's hideous Lady Gaga hat or even David Beckham's hair (which was the best part of the wedding by the way)! The Wedding was about two young people saying "I do" who truly love each other, and will never make their parents mistakes because of this. I think Kate and William will last the test of time and I wish them happiness in their marriage. Oh, when I do that, I should also tell William to put in a good word for me to Harry. After all, I called dibs on him 5 years ago. Royal band wagoners, back off.

"Oh hell nay!": A Shakespeare Pwned Story

   Yesterday, while I was creeping on facebook, I noticed a status made by a young man in my English class. He was talking about how Shakespeare's Hamlet was actually enjoyable. Before the comment was made, I talked to him in class about how amazing Shakespeare could really be (through the use of my favourite graphic novel Kill Shakespeare). I, "having the power of having rather too much of my own way and a disposition to think a little too well of myself", decided to comment on this status. I stated that Shakespeare's work is absolutely marvelous [awesome] and awaited my reply. I definitely got it. Some ignorant fool commented on the status saying "Shakespeare can go f*** an alligator". "Oh hell nay" I said,  utterly appalled. 20 seconds later, the fool added "Shakespeare sux (oh lord) no matter what you say gurl." This was the last straw. I was not going to allow some complete idiot to use improper spelling on my facebook wall. Strongly believing in the saying "keep your friends close and your enemies closer", I intensely studied his facebook. Surprisingly, his favourite movie was The Lion King. A grin, so evil appeared upon my face that I just had to laugh, evilly. I had won. Promptly, I comment back, "Just so you know ignorant child, The Lion King's plot was directly taken from Shakespeare's masterpiece Hamlet." It was over, no matter what the fool said as a comeback (it was quite rude). Don't mess with a Shakespeare fanatic. Next time child, think before you type for Shakespeare states "Better a witty fool than a foolish wit." Pwned. 

Hot Waiter Man Part Two

       Last Friday was probably not one of the greatest days I've ever had. Since my Grandmother passed away on Wednesday, and the visitation was on Friday, I wasn't really feeling very happy. After the visitation, my family and I went out for dinner because we hadn't seen each other for a while. Kelsey's was the restaurant of choice. I was feeling really upset when we first sat down and was trying extremely had not to cry. Much to my surprise, "hotty waiter of the century" came to take our order. As he went down the table taking orders from my other family members, I couldn't help but stare. He was perfection in the form of a over enthusiastic, apron wearing waiter man. When he asked me what I wanted, I quietly said "white milk"(I freaking love milk). "Okay, white wine" he answered back as he proceeded to write the order on his notepad. Just about every one at the table burst into laughter, including myself. Hot waiter man started laughing and realized that I was indeed not over the age limit, but was in fact, 17 years old. But here's the best part. He touched my arm, told me his name was Ryan and that he was sorry. He touched my arm. Oh, and it doesn't stop there. Every single time he came back to the table he would make some crack about giving me white wine. It was both a embarrassment, and a relief. Ryan indirectly made me feel a little better about my Grandmother and cheered me up for the time being. He also helped me realize that I can order alcohol without anyone realizing that I'm 17. Just kidding, but seriously, it's true.

Rest in Peace Grandma

 































On Wednesday, my Grandmother passed away peacefully at the age of 91. I'll miss her so much.

What If You Could Stop Him?

Yesterday I went to the Tim Burton exhibit in Toronto. It was pretty creepy but I must admit that Tim is a genius. Afterwards, we went shopping. I got this really comfy Roots sweater and a magnet. Then I came home and went on the computer. That's when I saw the greatest article I've read in a really long time, got on my knees, and started to cry tears of joy. Sidney Crosby skated for the first time since his concussion. Now mind you, it was only for 15 minutes but it was still something. Still progress. One step closer to him coming back. Not even kidding, this was one of the happiest days of my life. I mean, Sidney just never quits! No matter what happens to this man, he always finds a way to overcome it, and show it who's boss. Not getting picked for the Olympics? Four years later, he scored the golden goal. Losing to the Red Wings in the Stanley Cup finals? One year later, he became the youngest captain to ever hoist hockey's Holy Grail. Who knows what he'll do to overcome this throwback but I know in my heart it will be even more amazing than the other two.

Explosion of my Ovaries

I officially have no life. This is what I do everyday: Wake up, get ready, go to school, walk home, do homework, practice piano, eat dinner, sit at the computer staring at pictures of Sidney Crosby, watch my programs, take a shower and go to bed. Not even kidding. I do this exact same routine day in and day out. So going on the Pittsburgh Penguins website and seeing "New: Sidney Crosby interview" I freaked out.
     Of course, it wasn't anything about his concussion. Sidney's too reclusive to talk about that. It was actually better. The Penguins hosted a practice and a lunch for 30 children from the Make-a-Wish Foundation today. It broke my heart seeing these children who are sick meeting their favourite players, they just looked so happy. I really wish certain people would realize that hockey players aren't big, stupid, vicious lugs who do nothing but fight. Sure, some of them are, but the ones I saw in this video had compassion for children and truly cared about them. Sidney actually sat at the tables of every family there and got to know them. One little girl asked to take a picture with him, and he hugged her afterwards. My ovaries exploded.

"We are the true north, strong and free and what’s more is that we didn’t just say it, we made it be.

   I woke up this morning aching. It wasn't the Charley horse that I received the second I stepped out of bed, which made me think I was going to die. It also wasn't the excruciating stubbed toe I got from falling over my chair. I didn't realize what I was aching from until I went downstairs and glanced at the Vancouver 2010 Olympic DVD my parents bought me for Valentines day. That's when I realized what I was suffering from, at full force: Olympic withdrawal.

    As I popped in the disk, I couldn't help but remember Alexandre Bilodeau's gold medal run, or Joannie Rochette's brave, bronze medal skate. Watching the opening ceremonies, I got a little teary eyed. The beautiful version of "Oh Canada" made me stand up with my hand on my heart. The killer whales that swam across the arena made me want to go whale watching, and the kilt wearing fiddle man made me want to take up highland dancing again. It wasn't until I saw Wayne Gretzky running with torch that I actually started crying. I miss waking up every morning in February, listening to Brian Williams voice tell me about how we were doing. I miss cheering "Loouuuuu!" every waking second of the hockey games, even if Canada isn't playing. I miss how they could bring a country together and I miss no one making fun of me when I walk though the halls of Westdale wearing my Team Canada Crosby jersey; I miss that one more than you will ever know.
      The memories of ice dancing gold, Patrick Chan and the Golden Goal came flooding back to me as I hugged my stuffed, Quatchi mascot. Whenever I look at something, I'm reminded by the Olympics. Ice, snow, gold and even the chair in front of the television that I sat on as the Golden Goal was scored remind me of them. But the Olympics were so much more than the medals we won or the legends that were born. It was about coming together as a nation and realizing what we could accomplish. It was about realizing that we were more than just fishing, Tim Horton's coffees, beavers, zippers and ice hockey. Realizing that we were more than polite people, curlers, mounties and maple syrup tappers. As I was listening to the speech by Shane Koyczan, I understood that the Olympics were about realizing we should always, no matter what the circumstances are, be proud to be Canadian.

Beliebers and Concussions

I wish the reason I love Justin Bieber so much is because he's awesome, or because he looks like a "dreamy Christmas elf", but alas, its a little more complicated. One of the only things that brought me joy in life is now bringing me misery. Boatloads of it. The hockey team I cheer for, the Pittsburgh Penguins, is a hockey team in crisis. With the playoffs fast approaching, the team should be getting ready for them by trying to gain the top spot. Instead, the Penguins are trying to stay in the playoffs.

       First of all, most of the team is injured. No, I'm not being dramatic. I'm actually being serious. Here is the list of injured players: Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, Brooks Orpik, Paul Martin, Chris Kunitz, Aaron Asham, Dustin Jeffery, Eric Tangradi, Mike Comrie, Nick Johnson,  and Mark Letestu. The team is seriously screwed. To add on top of the injuries, Pittsburgh recently traded Alex Goligoski for James Neal and the guy Sidney Crosby beat up last year from the Dallas Stars. Great. If Sidney can beat you up, you must be a whimp.
           I think I become obsessed with Justin Bieber because, well, I have nothing better to do. My favourite player is out with a concussion and the team I cheer for is seriously sucking. Loving Justin keeps my mind off of hockey and Sidney Crosby's injury. I mean, I like other hockey players besides Sidney. Max Talbot and Marc-Andre Fleury are cute and French and Jonathan Toews is an angel sent from heaven, but none of them can compete with my love for Sid the kid. I wish I loved Justin for other reasons, but I don't. He's a great musician and all, but lets face it. If Sidney Crosby was still playing right now, I wouldn't be a Belieber.

Never Say Never: Justin Bieber Does have Talent

   Justin Bieber. The name alone makes doves coo in delight, old ladies cry with joy and young girls' "naughty parts tingle." No, I'm not a Bieber fanatic but I do enjoy his hair. I'm neutral on the subject of Justin himself, he's a pretty talented kid though. That's why I absolutely loathe when people hate on him. Justin is actually one of the most purely talented stars in the business, and here are just some of the reasons why.

       1. His voice. Yes, I know Justin isn't the best singer in the world. And he does, sort of, sound like a girl but that in no way means he can not sing. Believe me, this is coming from a girl who listens to the Les Miserables and the Wicked soundtracks on repeat almost everyday, is a Barbra Streisand and Julie Andrews fanatic and belts The Phantom of the Opera in the shower at least 4 times a week (which I must say sounds pretty good with the acoustics in there) . I know who can sing. I also know pop stars often alter their voices in the recording studio. But every time I've heard Justin live, he's been great. Even from his early days of his pre-teen YouTube videos, he's impressed me with his voice. He has an undeniably great voice, and the success to show for it.

       2. His musical abilities. Yesterday, I willingly went to see Never Say Never with my friend. I was a little sceptical at first, considering I saw the Jonas Brothers concert movie and was a tad disappointed. This movie, however, really went in-depth about Justin's abilities as a child. When Justin was a toddler, he started drumming on things around the house. Watching him drumming on a kitchen chair, I was pleasantly surprised. This toddler would have been at the expert level by now if he was playing Band Hero. Also at a very young age, he started playing piano and the guitar. This is all coming from a little boy whose family has no spectacular musical talents. Justin had never had a professional drumming, guitar, piano, or vocal lesson in his life when he started posting his sugary sweet videos on YouTube. That is what I call a prodigy my friends. I am in no way comparing him to Mozart, Beethoven or Michael Jackson, and I, once again, know he isn't the most talented person ever; but he has extraordinary abilities for a 16 year old boy.

       3. His rise to the top. Justin Bieber spent most of his life in the small town of Stratford, Ontario, Canada. I've been to Stratford, many times. Besides from the cute little Scottish shop and the Shakespeare overload of awesomeness; there really isn't much to do there. Can you really imagine a boy from, possibly, the middle of nowhere to become a superstar overnight? No. Can you imagine a somewhat prodigal boy from the middle of the nowhere becoming a superstar overnight? Absolutely, but it came with a lot of hard work that most people in their entire lifetime could never live up to. When he was 13, Justin would play for hours outside of The Avon Theatre in downtown Stratford (I saw him playing there once, but I thought he was a crazy homeless boy so I ran away). Dedication at its finest. Justin sang in countless competitions and posted video after video before his manager saw one of them and tracked him down. After being brought to Atlanta and singing for Usher, he was signed to his record label. I believe Justin Timberlake also wanted Justin Bieber to sign with him. If two of the most popular men in music thought Justin Bieber was talented, it shocks me to hear that other people don't.

        You can say what you want about Justin Bieber, like how his hair is weird or how his songs are cheesy or even how he reminds one of a lovely little kitten, but no one has a right to say that he isn't talented. Next time someone says he has no talent, I'd like them to call me when they're a multi million dollar recording artist.

Au Revoir Blog

    Before I started writing this blog of mine, I was a nobody. I had so many opinions to express and so many stories to tell, yet I had no one to tell them to. Since I have the gift of the gab, I never shut up. This may be hard to believe, but people started getting annoyed of my lovely voice, constantly ranting about Sidney Crosby. This blog was a way for me to say what I feel, without holding back. If you don't agree with how much of a slut Miley Cyrus is, or how ridiculous E-readers are, don't read my blog. I loved that about it. It was a way to introduce my writing to the world, and it was worth it. After writing this blog, I've learned that I love Sid the Kid way too much, I hate an immense amount of things and I really contradict myself when talking about Americans. 

     Now, I feel like I am a somebody, you know, since the co-creator of Kill Shakespeare commented on my blogs. That was pretty cool and the highlight of my blogging life, maybe even my actual life. I may have thought that blogging was dumb when I started this, but I finished loving it. Who knows? Maybe I'll keep blogging about Sidney Crosby when he recovers, or when he marries me.

Amendment #2

     As I was watching television on the weekend, I was horrified with what I saw on CNN. Gabrielle Giffords, an American politician was shot in the head while giving a speech on January 8th, by a 22 year old man, named Jared Lee Loughner in Arizona. Not only was she critically injured, but 9 other people were killed and many others wounded.
       It just disgusts me when terrible events happen like this in America, all because of their gun laws and their crazy views on politics. Everyone has the right to own a firearm, says amendment #2 in the American Constitution. As a result, many Americans think it's all fine and dandy to keep a gun above their fireplace; the Constitution says so. First of all, the Constitution was written over a hundred years ago in a time of war. There were no alarm systems and your neighbors lived miles and miles away from you, you definitely needed a gun then. But in today's modern day society, not a chance. Most Americans live in a home with a alarm system, or have a phone and have neighbors close by, a gun is not needed. Giving citizens guns is a bad idea. 
        If the gun laws in the US were stricter, shootings like this wouldn't happen. After all, any one in America can buy a gun. Some politicians say "people chose how they act. We can not influence them to kill or use weapons in a negative way." But, no, no, and no. Sarah Palin actually, on the homepage of her website, placed crosshairs on every state with democratic representatives, symbolizing America needed to get rid of them . Gabrielle Giffords is a democrat. There was a crosshair located on the state of Arizona. If that's not a good enough reason to get change the ridiculous gun laws in the USA, then I don't know what is.

Blindsided

     As you probably already know by now, Sidney Crosby has a mild concussion. David Steckel, of the Washington Capitals, blindside hit him during the Winter Classic, which by the way, was an epic fail. Now, I know blindside hits are terrible, and should be deal it very harshly, but between my fits of uncontrollable crying and throwing shoes at my window, I realized how unfair this hit truly was. Crosby did nothing to deserve that hit. He didn't instigate any fights. He never said anything to Steckel. He didn't even have the puck! But the worst part is, that was the perfect example of  a intentional blindside hit to the head, and Steckel didn't even receive a penalty! Absolutely ridiculous. Apparently, Steckel had no intention of hitting Crosby. Lies. Sidney Crosby is one of the best hockey players alive, insanely rich (and good looking), and probably would have creamed the Capitals if he hadn't been hit. If you were Steckel, wouldn't you want to hit him? And I find it incredibly hard to believe that 6"2 Steckel and his shoulder just happened to hit Crosby in the head. Apparently, the Pittsburgh Penguins doctors think that Crosby's mild concussion wasn't caused by the Steckel hit, but by a hit the following Wednesday. No, just no. I know I'm not a doctor, but I saw both hits and one of them was far worse than the other, and I bet you could guess which one it was. A concussion can be caused by by many hits, not just one but Crosby's concussion was defiantly caused at the Winter Classic.

      Now to even more depressing stuff. The Pittsburgh Penguins have lost every game they've played in since Sidney's been gone. Super ridiculous. So, what? You guys can't play one game without him? Do you really expect him to score every goal? He's one player, and one player does not make a team. Step it up, and win some games. Stop pouting about how your captain isn't here to pass you the puck or score the game winning goal. Be a man and do it yourself.

Tangled in my Depression

       I'm so depressed. First, the Penguins lose to the Washington Crapitals in the Winter Classic, then Sidney gets the concussion, then, to top it all off, Pittsburgh is sucking lately. So, yeah. Just drowning in my tears, no big deal. I saw Tangled yesterday and that made me feel better. Rapunzel's hair had magical powers and Flynn Rider was the best Disney criminal since the Artful Dodger. I was happy for about 90 minutes. Then I realized that the real world isn't anything like the rainbows, talking animals, true love, happily ever after, the Pittsburgh Penguins aren't sucking and Sidney Crosby doesn't have a concussion world. Oh, but I wish with all my heart that it was. I guess I'll have to keep wishing upon some stars or ask Rapunzel to heal Sidney Crosby with her magical hair.