Eeeee-YOOOOOOH-OHHHHHHH-ohhhhhhhh!

Holy crap.

The Police 05 Originally uploaded by penmachine

This show was so effing good. I screamed. Really loud. I sang. Really loud. For two solid hours.

Stewart wore tight white pants with matching gloves and a headband.*sigh*

Sting has one hot bod, for an old dude.

There was hardcore rocking out, mellowed out jazz improv, super sweet reggae/skatastic vibes and general AWESOMENESS. The entire time I was blown away by the fact that not only can these guys play awesome rock music, but they can all play the shit out of their instruments. You can totally tell they all come from jazz backgrounds... and that makes me love them even more because SO DO I!

I loved being able to sing to every song. Frig. I am one happy girl right now.

If there is a heaven, I hope it is like one really long Police concert. EFF YEAH!

PS: I really do think that Stewart Copeland is one of the best drummers in the history of rock. Every time I heard that signature snare drum crack I fell a little bit more in love. *sigh*

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

This morning I got to work at the usual time, 8:30am. I worked for a very long time, and then wondered, "Is it 4:30 yet?? IS IT TIME FOR THE POLICE???"

It was 10:30am.

Welcome to the LONGEST WORK DAY OF MY LIFE.

Hurry! I need to go home so I can get cuteified and practice my dance moves! Hurrrrrryyyyyyy!

In the meantime, watch this and get incredibly jealous thinking about how I get to see this LIVE in but a few hours...




I AM SO EXCITED TO THE EXTREME FOR REAL!!!!!!

I might start crying or something. Seriously.

I actually wish you would stand CLOSER to me, if possible.

I am seriously excited right now. You don't even understand. I am about to experience something that I have been waiting to see for 20 years or so, which is impressive considering that I am only 25 years old. This is something that I honestly NEVER thought I was EVER going to get to see. I am sitting at my desk thinking about it and getting goose bumps. Tomorrow can't come fast enough!

TOMORROW NIGHT IS WHEN I FINALLY GET TO SEE THE POLICE LIVE AND IN PERSON TO THE EXTREME FOR REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TOMORROW NIGHT IS WHEN I FINALLY GET TO SEE MY VERY FIRST OFFICIAL IMAGINARY BOYFRIEND IN PERSON!!!!!























Well, hello there, Stewart Copeland. You were looking fine in 1982, weren't you? STILL ARE IN MY OPINION!


It is mostly just exciting to see them all in the same place at the same time, playing all of their friggin' AWESOME music. None of that Sting solo business. NO ADULT CONTEMPORARY ALLOWED! However, the following is encouraged:

• Sweet new wave/ska type dancing.
• Furious drumming.
• Rocking out so damn hard.
• Showing of the pectoral muscles belonging to one "Sting".

I am SO not going to be able to sleep tonight!

And so I leave you with this video. Please note the awesome dance moves, the fact that Sting is wearing an English Beat shirt (awesome! Though they were known as "The Beat" over on that side of the pond.), when Sting takes his shirt off and looks devilish whilst doing so, and the look on Andy's face when he sees Sting's hot bod. Priceless.

Bore da! Oy vay...

So it turns out that Welsh is like, really hard to learn. They put w's and y's in EVERYTHING and when you try to say the words just from reading them, the results are disastrous. Nothing is pronouned how you think it would be.

So my first lesson (online, courtesy of the BBC!) was a little trickier than I anticipated. I learned greetings, how to say "tea", how to say where I worked (but not where I work, because that wasn't on the list) and how to say bye. That's a lot, huh?

TOO BAD I HAVE FORGOTTEN IT ALREADY.

I can just tell, this is going to work out well.

Hwyl!

Old is the new new.

At Christmas dinner with my Dad's family when I was 16, my grandpa stood up to give a toast/blessing before we ate, which was weird because none of us bitches ever went to church. But I digress. ANYWAYS... so he started talking and whatever he was saying sounded like gibberish. Seriously not real words. Everyone was looking around at each other with confused expressions on their faces.

After dinner, I was talking to my Dad and I said, "Seriously, how drunk was he? All those nonsense words!" to which my Dad replied, "It was Gaelic, you idiot."

Apparently my Dad was the only one who knew that my grandpa knew a little bit of Gaelic. Weird, huh?

So ANYWAYS... yesterday I was listening to the Super Furry Animals who are cute and Welsh.(this song in particular) Suddenly I was struck by an interesting thought:

Really old languages from the UK region of the world are totally awesome!

I am totally going to try to learn how to speak Welsh, even though it is totally impractical because I don't know anyone else who speaks it. It's so going to happen.

Way to go, Poindexter!

So this morning when I woke up, I apparently moved my shoulder in a way that is STRICTLY FORBIDDEN by shoulders. All I remember is that one moment everything was cool, and then next? There was this weird sensation which was immediately followed by quite a lot of pain. WHAT THE FRIG, MAN???

I seriously wasn't even doing anything. Now it hurts. Sort of a dull pain... and it's really lame. I suppose my evening has now been planned out for me rather nicely, though. Me, on the couch alternating heat and cold. Woot!

Good advice, from someone who knows.

I simply could not leave without sharing this with you today. I feel that all human beings should watch this video, and take heed. If you go against this advice, you just might find yourself in an impossible situation! PAY ATTENTION!



For the record, I was up on this song AGES ago... but I just now discovered that there is a video! I think it does a good job of showing the potential dangers of robot trusting.

Blah.

I am not feeling all the great at the moment. I'm sooooooooooo tired. So very, very tired. And my tummy is not feeling awesome either. I kind of just want to go home, crawl into bed and sleep away the yuckiness.

But I will not.

Instead, I will run. Then I will sleep BETTER than a baby. That actually brings me to a question:

Why do people say "sleep like a baby"? Babies are like, the worst sleepers EVER. They only sleep for a bit at a time and then wake up screaming. How is that a good thing? I don't want to sleep like that. I want a good solid 8 hour run at it, minimum! I don't get it.

Can I go nowhere with you?

Joel Plaskett is lovely. Truly delightful. Want proof? (Ignore the little Trailer Park Boys clip at the beginning... the good stuff comes after.)



I love him. I love his sweater vests and his dorky little haircut. The music isn't bad either!

YES!!!!!!!!

Okay, seriously. How friggin great was the finale of The Office? Pretty friggin great, I say. Seriously awesome.

The only crappy part about it is that I have to wait until September to see what happens next. Gah!

If you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me...

I know I've posted this video before, but this time it has some emotional significance. Before it was just because I thought it was funny... but this time I am using it to express some real, raw, heartfelt emotions. So here we go.

This song is dedicated to the toenail on the second toe of my right foot, which I'm pretty sure is about to fall off.



Consider this a plea to salvage what is left of our relationship, toenail. I'm willing to do whatever it takes. Even if it means putting on a band aid and wearing closed shoes on a warm day. (Which I totally did this morning.) I'm just not ready to say goodbye to you yet.

Wooooooo-OOOOOOOO-oooooo, baby please don't go...

Oooooooooh, darlin'... I've just got to have you by my side on my foot...

The Stawamus Chief - aka the Assmaster 3000

So I totally hiked up the Chief in Squamish on Saturday and have been paying for it dearly ever since. It feels like my legs are on fire. Walking down the stairs has been a harsh task indeed. Kind of brutal.

I hobbled around work yesterday like a 100 year old lady, making lots of grimacy faces and saying things like "oooh!", "Ahh!", "arrrgh!" and variations on painful grunting noises. This whole thing has made me realize two things:

1) I am friggin OUT OF SHAPE, despite my best attempts at running on a regular basis.

2) I will not attempt to climb a mountain again without first consulting a little program I like to call, "Buns of Steel". Cause I'm pretty sure you need those in order to successfully climb a granite monolith and not feel like your legs are going to give out on you at any moment.

I have also come to another conclusion... those Von Trapp kids must have been friggin RIPPED muscle-wise. They hiked through the Alps! And they were only kids!

Munce. Tice. Fee Times a Mady.

Every once in awhile, I arrive home on Friday night slightly inebriated and ready to watch some damn hilarious television. Usually it's just the same crap, but every once in awhile you find a real gem. Tonight is one of those nights.

I came home, made some toast and sat down to watch some tv... and I found this:



Dude. Purple leather suits are so fucking underrated.

Eddie Murphy Raw. Fucking RAW!!!!!

Oh god. Remember when Eddie Murphy was funny? Delirious and Raw are friggin amazing. And the SNL stuff he did was awesome. James Brown Celebrity Hot Tub? Buh-weet sings?



Wookin' Pa Nub. Shoot, that shit was hilarious!

Seriously though. What happened, yo? How did he get from comic genius to Norbit? NORBIT?????????

It will never be the same again. But I wish he was still funny.

Frig.

Today the most amazing thing happened at work! We got free ice cream! From Haagen Dazs!

And I didn't eat any.

Then I came home and DIDN'T go for a run.

Apparently, today was the day where I made all the wrong choices. Grrrrr.

A woman of many talents... yep, that's me!

Today my sister and I were talking about doing sweet impressions of people. Her boyfriend Myles is super good at doing impressions of the old perverted dude from Family Guy, among others. This lead me to talk about Little Dave and his awesome John Travolta impression. "Ohmigod, I'm John Travolta!" Big Dave does a wicked awesome Phil Ken Sebben impression. My dad likes to imitate Bob Dylan... which is guaranteed to make my sister and I fall down laughing. This leaves me. There is only one that I am any good at. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the one impression I can pull off without a hitch:




I do love the nightlife. I could use a little ak-shon. God, this is embarassing. Why do I tell you these things?

It's Bernielicious...

I can't believe I friggin' forgot to tell you about this RIGHT AWAY. But I remembered now, which is the important part.

On Saturday, I had the good fortune to take part in a work of culinary brilliance. Friends, meet THE LAVA BURGER:

















Sweet mother of god, look at that thing. That is what the air tastes like in heaven.


The lavaburger is the creation of the great and powerful Bernie. It has cheese and butter in the middle of it. Yes. Cheese AND butter. That is what makes it lava-like. The cheese melts into this gooey deliciousness and totally explodes when you bite into it. But you don't even care if it hits you in the eye, because it is DELICIOUS. It has three different kinds of cheese melted on top of it. Yes. THREE KINDS OF CHEESE. Then there were about 75 million different things you could put on your burger, because Bernie likes to make condiments. Yes. He makes his own mustard and whatnot. The whole scene was just this insane cornucopia of delicious amazingness... I'm tearing up a little just thinking about it.

Thinking about it is also causing me to have some minor heart palpitations due to the fact that it was cholesterol city up in that bitch, but that's okay. It was totally worth it. THANKS, BERNIE!!!

Born free...of pants.

Lydia left for a month in Europe yesterday, which leaves me all by myself with two cats that kind of frighten me a little. I think this is going to be interesting, to say the least!

I've always lived with other people, so I'm taking this month as an opportunity to do some things I've never been able to do... so far I have come up with the following:

1) hang out in my underwear for extended periods of time
2) pee with the bathroom door open
3) do laundry with reckless abandon

That's all I've managed to think of. I'm open to suggestions, so if you have any ideas, let me know!

I already wandered around in my underwear when I got home last night. It was a little strange. I'm going to make myself get used to it, though. (Don't worry, Lyds. Once you get back, I will start wearing pants again, I promise.)

So, if you should happen to feel like popping by over the course of the next month, maybe you should call first. I'll only need about 3 mins notice to run and put some pants on.

The sick day.

I took my very first sick day at my job today. I've been there for a year and a half. I went to work with bronchitis a few times because I am stupid. But not this time. This time, I stayed in bed. I'll be damned if if I let myself get the Black Lung again.

It was a weird day. Kind of like a snow day, except in no way was it fun or awesome. I stayed in bed until about noon or something. Then I got up and spent a very long time curled up in a little ball in the corner of the sofa. I watched Oprah, 90210, and Full House. Oprah taught me that I don't need to be fat, 90210 taught me that drinking and driving is a bad scene (SHAME ON YOU, BRANDON WALSH!), and Full House taught me that when puppies are born it is a gosh darn miracle! You could say that today has been quite educational.

I am finally starting to feel better. I think that once I hit the Nyquil again tonight, I will sleep awesomely and tomorrow I will be a stronger, better Sarah. YES!

I'm off to take a bath and eat something before I Nyquil it up. So in honour of my very first sick day, I leave you with this:



What? Kris Kross? Why?

Because my first attempt at putting on my pj pants this morning went horribly awry, and they were totally backwards. It reminded me of the good ol' days, when I did that shit on purpose.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

People at work are so terrified of me right now because I am incubating a disease. I am a germ factory and they are scared of said germs. I kind of like it. Mostly because they are telling me not to come to work tomorrow. I'm sort of okay with that idea. But, knowing myself all too well, I will totally end up coming to work tomorrow even if I am totally worse. I don't know why I do it, I just do. It's like this wierdo work ethic thing I inherited from my mother.

Don't ask, it can't be explained.