I bet this never happens in Florida...

One of the key things you look for when looking for an apartment are the words "utilities included". This means that heat and water costs are included in the rent... theoretically.

I am presently in one of those "utilities included" kind of situations. So why are my feet turning blue from the SEVERE LACK OF HEAT UP IN THIS BITCH?

Arrrrrgh. I just really don't want to have to wear 4 pairs of socks. It's not like an attractive single man is about to pop by randomly and see me wearing them... but still. You never know...

It's a matter of principle.

Am I asking too much? After all, it is fall.

Sarah here, reporting live from the shitstorm...

Today at work is stupidly busy. Like, and INSANE kind of busy. I am taking 5 mins to eat my lunch at my desk. Arrgh. This is pretty much all that has been getting me through this day:




You're goddamn fucking right I saw Def Leppard last night. My arm is a little sore from all the fist pumping.

So yeah, listening to Animal over and over again is awesome... as is listening to Biz Markie sing "Bennie and the Jets" and forget all the words. Bitchin.

Back to work. Frig.

You got something I like...

I love this song.




Alright, will.i.am. You can have your street cred back... but on a TEMPORARY BASIS ONLY. I'll monitor your progress for the next 3 months and we can discuss having it fully reinstated at a later date. I'm not going to lie to you. It's not going to be easy. But you can thank "My Humps" for that one.

Hey, buddy!

When you meet new people there is always this weird kind of social dance you have to go through before you become official friends. It can often be quite complicated and difficult to navigate, because if you muck it up they will run off and tell everyone they know about how big of a jerk you are. And then how will you ever make new friends? You won't, not with that crowd. You will have to move on to a new group, where you could potentially eff that up too. It's tricky business.

Typically this all starts when you encounter a new person the first time after you have first met them. This is where your people reading skills can really screw you over. So you are walking down the street or wherever, and you notice the new person. What do you do? How do you deal with this. Wave or not wave? Say hi or not say hi? Friendly smile? Witty elevator comment about the weather? Inquire as to when Friday will be arriving? It's just so confusing. Make the wrong move and an entire social circle will hear about how much of a spaz you are.

This happened to me this morning. I was walking down the street and I spotted the new person. Right away I thought, "Crap! What do I do?" Then there was the weird moment when you both know that you have recognized each other. You can actually see them going through the same thought process as you. I paused for a moment, trying to gauge the situation... and then... I get the wave. So I smiled and waved back and thought to myself, "Yeah that's right new kid. You so want to be my friend."

And who wouldn't want to be friends with this winning combination of self-deprecating humour, false arrogance and biting wit? As an added BONUS, I will totally write about you on the Internet!

Just remember, you would have been nowhere if it hadn't been for that 3rd wheel on your tricycle.

Nearly all of my friends are totally or "sort of" encoupled at the moment. That's pretty neato. That makes me the Bridget Jones... except for the fact that there really aren't any attractive men with fantastic accents competing for my affections and telling me that they enjoy the fact that I am a little bit pudgy. BECAUSE I AM PRETTY SURE THAT NEVER HAPPENED TO ANYBODY. EVER.

But I digress.

When you are the token singleton in any group of friends, they always seem to think it is necessary to find you a mate. That's not the weird part. I've grown used to that. What I have noticed though, is a disturbing new trend... which is that other single friends of mine are starting to utter that famous phrase, "We need to find you a boyfriend."

I know I've whined about my friends who are in relationships saying that to me all of the time, but at least I can kind of see why they say it. Married/serious relationship types are kind of like communists or members of Greenpeace, in the sense that they really believe in the cause and will gladly spend ages telling you about how great it is and why you should give it a try. This I can sort of understand.

But what I am not clear on is why my fellow loners would be so quick to sell me out like that. I thought we were part of a team! Is it just instinct to say that when you meet a single girl? I just don't get it. Nowhere is safe anymore!

It's okay though, because who doesn't want to constantly recreate that feeling of being the only one at a wedding without a date? I don't know about you, but I thoroughly enjoy explaining why I am ALL ALONE to an assortment of random people, 17 times over. Good times. Am I right???

It's hard out there for a pimp...

You know, with all the worrying about trying to get your money from the hos who won't give it to you, dealing with the fuzz and making enough money to look fly... it's a lot of stress! Who needs that? Not me, man. Not me. What was I getting at? Oh yeah.

SO ANYWAYS... it is not only hard out there for pimps, but it is hard out there for nerdy white girls who like hip hop music. Really. It is.

On one hand, I love science. I love learning about chemicals, computers and biology. I love reading about genetics and randomly deciding to study new languages. I'm a pretty huge nerd. I admit it, and I am proud of it. I flaunt it by wearing nerd glasses and loudly discussing science in public.

But then there is the other part of me. The part of me that just wants to dance and rhyme about how hard it is on the streets. Cause it's friggin hard, man. Growing up in the suburbs can really harden a kid. And give them a seriously hardcore sense of rhythm, which makes for awesome hip hop and tap dancing skills.

Do you think maybe this is why I'm still single? You know, because I'm just so darn complex? Yes... that's why. That's totally why.

OMG!!!! IT IS TOTALLY FRIDAY!!!

*ahem*



Probably the first and only time I will ever say that R. Kelly's words echo my exact sentiments. BUT THEY DO.

Gotta go. Beer to drink. Love you!

Do they even realize?

When you look a little nerdy on the outside like I do, you often wonder if people can ever tell how friggin cool you really are without talking to you.

When I am on the bus I often think that the people around me probably think I'm just your regular type glasses wearing nerd. But they don't even know.

I mean, I'm going to see Def Leppard next week.

That right there just proves how cool I am.

The one time Ryan Seacrest didn't piss me off.

Dudes. Last night I watched the Emmy's and the craziest thing happened... it made me laugh.

This right here was one of the funniest and most awesome things I have ever seen on an awards show. I love it.



So great. The best parts are when Rainn keeps flowin and bursts out with "Let's get lost tonight, you can be my Black Kate moss tonight..." and at the very end when Kanye is all sad... "I never win." Ohhhhhhhhh, Kanye. You'll always be a winner in my eyes.

Mama's got a squeezebox.

Thanks to CBS, the following conversation from last Friday will be replayed in my head every time I hear a song by the Who:

*Baba O'Riley starts playing on the stereo*

ME: "Which fucking CSI is this one?"
DAVE: "Oh Jesus."
ME: "I know! They've ruined it. But seriously... which one? Is it the one with the annoying dude that quotes Poe and shit, the one with Gary Sinise or the one with fucking Horatio? I always get them mixed up."

Dave then went on to tell me about this clip from Two and a Half Men... but don't let that stop you from watching it! It is seriously hilarious to those who have ever thought "CSI!" upon hearing a Who song.



Ohhhhhhhh, CBS. If you are okay with mocking yourselves, then I am okay with you.

Mom, she called me the H word!

A little while ago I was talking to my mom and sister about somethingorother, and we started talking about Main street. My sister scoffed and said that she hated shopping there because of a certain type of person that frequents these particular shops. When I asked her what she meant, she responded, "Hipsters. You're a hipster, you should know."

GASP!

I lost it. "WHAT??? Why would you say that to me?? I am SO not one of THEM."

I have always hated being associated with THAT WORD. To me it implies snobbery and arrogance... which is kind of weird, considering that many of them appear to have gotten their clothes from the dumpster. (Not all of them... but you know who I'm talking about.)

Why would she think I'm like that? I suppose I dress in a similar manner. I typically do have mod-ish haircuts... and lord knows I love some new wave music. But am I a total elitist jerk about it?

I just don't know how to reconcile being so annoyed by something that I may actually be.

Maybe it's the nerd glasses? *sigh*

I'm really not into Arcade Fire at all, if that helps.

Rock-a-bye, grown up.

Once you hit your twenties, you will find that as the years edge you closer to thirty the frequency of events that force you to act like a grown up and make sensible decisions will increase. It is your basic line graph, really. When these little situations occur, you are forced to think about how it is inevitable that you will actually eventually become a real live grown up.

Not all of these events are necessarily big in significance. On the weekend, Dave and I were hanging out and playing Scrabble. When we play Scrabble, we usually like to have a soundtrack to accompany the game. On this particular evening, it was 4 separate Rolling Stones albums. We got to talking about how much we both love the Stones, and how we had both only really started to appreciate them in recent years.

It is because the Rolling Stones is what you listen to when you are coming to grips with the fact that you are growing up.

When I was in high school, I was all about the Beatles. This makes perfect sense. When you are in high school you are thinking about how great life is going to be when you get out into the world and really start to discover things. The music of the Beatles has a sort of whimsy to it... when you listen to it, it is all kind of just lovely and magical. It makes you think of hopes and dreams.

Then when you are heading into your mid-twenties, you start having to deal with things. You have to make choices. You have to work, you have to make money, and you have to pay the darn rent. You start to realise that life is real. Life is sometimes messy and dirty. It is around this time that you start to discover the Rolling Stones.

The Stones are not about hopes and dreams. The Stones are about wants and needs. They have a grittiness to them that you can't really understand fully until you are a bit older and have seen a little more. When you are twenty-something, you don't want to sit back and imagine. You want to frigging rock. You want dirty, real rock. I think the anthem of my twenties so far has been, "You Can't Always Get What You Want". The older I get, the more I understand how true that really is.

Don't get me wrong, I still love the Beatles. I always will. The Beatles are all about love, and sometimes that's nice to hear. But the Stones? They aren't about love. You know what they are about. Right now, hot, sweaty, sexy rock music is just far more appealing.

I don't have time to dream anymore... I only have time to rock. Get 'er done.

The whole thing smacks of effort...

Today I feel sickly. I just did not want to get out of bed today. For starters, my legs were feeling mighty stiff today, on account of all the hardcore fricking curling skills I busted out last night at my curling clinic.























Curling is all about lunging and bending over. That is tricky business. Hence all of the hurting.

Curling is awesome. Awesome, yet totally fricking hard. I went into the whole thing feeling a little cocky. The instructors were all, "Today we are going to learn ___, ___ and _____. You may find it to be a little tricky." I was all, "Child, please. I totally curled like, 2 times. Whatevs."

And then I had to actually to the drills... Which mostly consisted of lunging like 20 thousand times in a row on the same leg. Ouchies! By the time I got around to actually throwing a rock, I was in a fair bit of pain, but managed to look like somewhat graceful. Woot.

HOWEVER... the soreness of my body is not the only problem today. Despite having a fairly decent sleep I feel SO TIRED. I got a coffee this morning to help me out, but it only made me feel worse. All day my tummy has felt not so good, my body feels not so good and I am so tired that I can barely focus on anything. I feel like throwing up could definitely be in my future. YAY!

I have another curling session tonight. I paid $30 for this thing, so unless actual vomit happens between now and then, I am showing up. But I will NOT try very hard. Just like Britney circa Sunday night and Santana since the 90's, I'm totally phoning it in.

PS: Hey BLOGGER, if you do not stop effing up my formatting every damn time I post a picture, imma hit you. Right in the face. For serious.

Damnit, George!

Apparently George Clooney has a new girlfriend. Apparently the world is a cruel, cruel place.

Her name is Sarah. (MY NAME IS SARAH.) She is 28. (I AM 26.) She has a joe job... as a waitress. (I HAVE A JOE JOB.)

LIFE IS NOT FAIR.

If there was ever a reason to start working out and putting on makeup in the morning, THIS IS IT.

Traffic (the band) is cool. Traffic (the kind with cars) is not.

Whew! Yesterday I had quite a busy day! This involved driving to Metrotown to get a stupid ink tag removed from a shirt I bought there last week (holy ANNOYING), then driving out to Coquitlam centre to go to H&M with Steph (yay! I loved it. LOVED IT.) and THEN going from Coquitlam to meet Dave in Richmond!

This was a lot of driving. It was craziness! I learned some things about myself on this wild and crazy journey. Mostly that a) I don't understand Burnaby, b) I don't understand Coquitlam, and c) I REALLY don't understand Richmond.

There were a few wrong turns, only a slight bit of frustration, and a LOT of singing in the car. It was totally worth it though. I got to shop (yay!), eat delicious fish and chips in Steveston at Pajo's, and get a guided walking tour of Steveston with Dave! Pretty sweet day, if you ask me.

My parents have taught me well.

I took a day off work today, just because I can. I went out for a bit this morning and came home to make myself a caramel latte (yummmmmm) and watch The Rockford Files. It's kind of the best show EVER.

It just so happened that when I turned it on today, it was an episode from Season 4 guest starring one Mr. Rick Springfield! Amazing! He played this spoiled British rockstar and was kind of unintentionally hilarious. Also involved in the plot of the episode were some crazy mafia types from New Jersey. I wanted to check it out and see if it really was Rick Springfield, so I looked it up on wikipedia... sure enough, it was him! But that is not the coolest thing I learned about this show. Do you know who was a main writer for the Rockford Files? David Chase! (Of Sopranos fame.) Now that I know this, it kind of makes sense. Rockford was always a cool hybrid of comedy/drama/action... and so is the Sopranos. He's just so darn clever.

I loves me some Rockford. I think "must love Rockford Files" is a new requirement that must be fulfilled by all potential new buddies.



So, how about it? Wanna have a Rockford party? We can drink everytime he gets annoyed.

So PETA apparently controls fate.

It was not long after I had written about eating ribs that I moved in a weird way and put a rib out of place in my back.

The irony was not lost on me, I assure you.

But I'm still not sorry I did it. They really were delicious.

Today is not your day, mammalian farm creature.

I like to eat eat lots of vegetarian meals, just because I feel like I am a healthier person when I eat less meat. I've never really been crazily carnivorous anyways, so it's not really a big deal. Technically since I ate chicken yesterday I probably shouldn't eat meat today... but that is so not happening.

I'm eating ribs for dinner. And I ate them for lunch. SORRY FARM CRITTERS, YOU LOSE.

I feel very little remorse, on account of the ribs being so delicious. You can blame it all on my sister because she's the one who made them.

Mmmmmmmmm. BBQ.

Babies, learning how to rock a party and getting a new roommate.

Whew! Yesterday was a little busy. I went to the wedding of Steph's sister Danielle to fulfill my duties as chief baby wrangler for one Miss Ella. Poor little Ella was sick, so she was a little cranky. I ended up spending the whole ceremony standing outside with a baby strapped to the front of me via a snuggly. (It was a Catholic ceremony... so it was pretty long!) I seriously don't understand how moms wear those things for so long. My back and shoulders were KILLING ME after less than an hour!

When we got to the reception, I found out that not only was I in charge of cuing up the music for the official things like the first dance and whatnot, but I was in charge of ALL the music! So much pressure! I made it my mission to make these people dance, and damnit, I tried! Overall, I think I did a pretty good job for a first time DJ... especially considering I was armed only with a cd player. There was only one incident due to a mislabelled cd (which was made by the groom, so TOTALLY not my fault) which resulted in "A Little Less Conversation" playing for the beginning of the father/daughter dance. Totally not my fault.

In the end, I ended up having spent tons of time with cute babies, dancing with Steph's awesome family, playing all my favourite music, AND leaving the party with my new roommate in tow. His name is Potsie and he is a Fighting Fish who lives in a vase! He was a centrepiece on the tables... and now he is my buddy. If you have any tips on the care of these lil guys, I'd like to hear them. I want him to live for a long time!