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.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
"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.
Monday, April 11, 2011
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.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
What If You Could Stop Him?
Monday, March 7, 2011
Explosion of my Ovaries
Friday, March 4, 2011
"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.
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.
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