Father logic

This blog entry is about as shocking as a roller coaster filled with shocked looking people!

Today I took 2 Advils because I have a headache, and I don't want it to get worse by the time I go out for halloween tonight.

I prepare myself to get razzed by my father, as the Advil is in his bathroom, and I took some 2 days ago because my legs were sore from Kylie and I's dance class on Tuesdays.

I have not taken any pain killer for anything in easily over a month, but because I've done this twice in a week, I have a problem, apparently.

"You're taking a lot of pain killer lately." - Father

I have a headache, I'm taking some Advil.

"You're supposed to take Tylenol for headaches." - Father

We ran out of Tylenol, so I'm taking Advil.

"I buy Tylenol in bulk and its always getting used up!" - Father

That's because I use Tylenol to get high.

"And all the Dristan is missing too!" - Father

That's because Lucas [my brother] has a Dristan problem.

He keeps watching TV.

The great thing about talking to my dad is, we don't really have conversations, I just say completely untrue things in response to his statements, and he doesn't notice, and keeps on talking at me.

How to market to a woman

Being a woman who enjoys spending her time doing obvious womanly things such as:

1. Accessorizing!
2. Watching The Hills!
3. Being duped by commercials! (Vibrating mascara? PASS.)

I have learned a thing or two about what makes me really want to buy something. Unfortunately, when its pink.. yeah, I want to buy it more, and marketting execs have obviously figured out the female kryptonite.

Which brings me to this: the Nissan Micra. (Aka the Nissan March.)

Think VW Beetle, but on.. ANTI-STEROIDS.

This car is so freaking cute. That's all I can really say. At just 3.7m long, the name is appropriate. They're currently only released in Japan and Australia I believe, but I had the chance to see a few in person while vacationing DOWN UNDAH this summer.

I sometimes judge male drivers when I see them driving a Smart car, but they can still juuuust get away with it. The Micra, no.

The marketing for this car almost blows my mind. While a lot of eco-car makers are resorting to flashy colours to promote their product (vis a vis: Suzuki Swift in LIME GREEN. Yeah.. I almost bought one last year.) none turn to bubble-gum pink like Nissan. A stroll around their website has delightful extras like The Girls' Guide to Buying a Car, which hey, is actually a nice sentiment, but I'm feeling a little patronized. The photos in the gallery have some fashionista looking girl in 50% of them, hawking her clear glowing skin more than the willy wonka fashion of the car. There's a delightful link to take a quiz to find out which Micra colour suits your personality, each of which is named after a popular international city; London Rose, New York Blue, or L.A. Lilac, anyone?

Bottom Line: Would I drive one of these? Yes, definitely, though I'd be a little warey having to merge onto a freeway with one, these suckas are made for INNER CITY DRIVING (+/- the "inner" I suppose, ain't seeing one of these in the BRONX.) If the extensive "ACCESSORIES [!!!!!]" section of the website doesn't sell you, then I have only one question:

Where else are you going to store your red flats?!

Observations

1. I am an assistant for a lawyer. When I answer the phones, I always say he's busy, as if they called him directly, they would be billed for his time.
Nobody ever wants to talk to the receptionist.
I'm very friendly! You should want to talk to me!

People ask me all the time if I'm a lawyer, that I'm not qualified to give them information.
People always say

"He's always busy! Why can't I talk to him directly?"
and I say
Yes, he is always busy. Hence why... he hired a receptionist. Sdfsdfsjdf

AND DID I MENTION that we're taking a firm field trip next week to watch the new Michael Jackson movie for lunch?
YEAH, BEST LAWFIRM EVER.



2. When people get all freaked out about 2012, thinking the world is going to end..
They think, well the Mayan calendar ended December 21, 2012, so that's when the world is going to end too, right?
Or
Maybe?

They just got sick of writing the calendar. I mean, the same 4 seasons over and over for a thousand years, I think we can predict this patterns well past 2012.


3. Now I've mentioned it on facebook, but I think its worth mentioning again:
Last week my boss was trying to find a file that apparently went missing. He didn't know what happened to it, and in a moment of exasperation said "This is madness!"

Larissa, the ever mindful movie quote-er, couldn't resist the chance to yell "THIS IS SPARTAAAAA"

Pause for silence.
Has he not seen that film?
He doesn't say anything, just turns around and walks away from my desk as I quickly look back at my computer screen and look busy.

We must never speak of this again.

This is a picture of a sad pug:

UPDATEZ

So apparently my life is just too damn exciting to bother blogging anymore, but I will share a few details I deem OF ACTUAL CONSEQUENCE (Again with breaking the status quo of this blog.)

1. I think I've mentioned my dislike of philosophy majors before. When people ask me what I have against people who make this their main area of study, I merely reply "I don't like talking about nothing for 6 hours."

I used to, but this old gal's been put out to pasture on the philosophy front.

Accordingly, when I got into an argument with some random on the internet about completely useless shit I thought to myself --- well actually said out loud as I love speaking to no one --- "Who is this guy, a philosophy major?"

A check of his profile proved my theory.

Anyway, about a week ago KKRAZY and I went down to whyte ave, and ran into some friends of his. I stood back while they talked to each other, and Friend 1 began to introduce Kenny to Friend 2:

"Me and Kenny took Philosophy 101 last year together."

I stare at Kenny meaningfully.

Philosophy? I mouth, We're done.

As I slowly trace my finger across my neck threateningly.

(DO YOU REMEMBER THAT, KENNY?)

2. I went out to dinner this weekend with THE MAFIA (aka: Heather, Kylie and I) at Kai, where a friend was spinning for the night. After dinner we made the obligatory females-migrating-to-the-washroom move, where some crazy woman, quite possibly on coke, with 5 foot long platinum extensions pulled back in the tightest headband known to man, huge fake breasts, quite possibly no eyebrows, and heavy, heavy makeup causing a very shiny face, was monopolizing the sinks with her friend.

She had some choice things to say, one of which being "I feel so restricted when I wear pants" (Warning sign #50000000 to any guy considering taking this girl home to Mama) and her friend somehow misconstrued our discussion of the fine-quality paper towels, as she yelled after us as we left "They're just staring at you because they're jealous YOU'RE SO HOTTTTTT"

Apparently we couldn't take our eyes off her.

Considering she looked something like a female Mr. Clean, I guess we couldn't.

3. I went to see Paranormal Activity with Heather this weekend. I'm a freaking suck when it comes to horror movies, so not only did I jump at all the appropriate parts, I also jumped at: When a character pulled back the curtains and the reflection of his hand was in the window!!!! and when the camera was on a female character, and when she moved out of the scene, a reporter on the tv behind her came into view!!!!

The eerie glow of a TV screen is quite similar to that of a ghost, I'll have you know.

4. While cuddling with my dog last night to ward off any possible bad dreams from the movie (Though considering it dealt with demon possession, I just rationalized all those thoughts away with atheism) I was subsequently face-palmed, doggy style (HA) by my canine companion. Just as I was about to doze off, he decided to have one of those satisfying looking dog stretches, that entails sticking his paws straight out from his body, and straight into my face.

5. While out for coffee with my NEW FRIEND BRENDEN, I began discussing the ever popular topic of "More cushion for the pushin'" (Which can inevitably be responded to with "If I wanted cushion, I'd fuck a couch.")

Brenden knocks on the wooden chair sitting next to him.

"Knock on wood that you never end up with a couch?" I ask.

"No, its just, in the realm of couch pushin', you're kind of like this wooden chair." - Brenden

And he jiggles it a bit, its rickety, just like my bone structure!

6. Kenny's blog's tagline used to be "Who's Watching the Watchers?"

I think this image illustrates it perfectly.

Well if it ain't RaptorJesus, its just a plain old Raptor! No one is safe.

Aston Martin One-77

I'm starting to feel like I should make an effort to blog about something more exciting than my less-than-exciting life.

So fortunately, I'm channelling my automobile love to make this happen.

Considering only two people actually follow my blog, who presumably don't give a crap about cars (Hi Kenny, Hi Heather) I feel a little bad, but Aston Martins are one of my true loves:

ASTON MARTIN One-77

I can't decide if I prefer the styling of the One-77 over the v12, but if anyone has $2-million dollars laying around, then HAVE AT 'ER.

They're only releasing 77 of these puppies worldwide (should I find the correlation to the car's name cute, or intelligently justified?) and only 6 in America.
I'm just quoting facts.

"6 in America" probably means none in Canada, but I'll still have my 2 Aston Martins that occasionally roll down Whyte Avenue.

POINT BEING: Each of these is tailor made to the buyer, which apparently equates to a good $1.7-million more than you'd pay for say, a DB9, but we're talking customization here!

What they plan to customize, I don't exactly know. Perhaps some people really need an extra inch of elbow room in the drivers seat, or a delightful built-in vase to put a flower, a la the VW Beetle.
(Really?)

POINT STILL BEING: I'm an Aston Martin fan, but the $2-mil price tag.. you're paying to have one of the 77, not the customization. Kind of like buying a $15,000 Chanel tank top (And I just brought the demographic for this blog full circle!)

Either way, lowly Edmontontonians will never see one of these here.
But for the sake of context:

I want PURPLE POLKA DOTTED seat inserts for my $2-million, please.

Appendix A

While looking for a photo of an angry dwarf to accompany my previous entry about jumping on/slapping the fellow who punched me in the nose, I found something most delightful..

Not that I'm a fan of finding the likenesses of disney characters in tragic events, BUT THIS was just too startling to not point out.

And people think 9/11 was a conspiracy of the government taking down their own citizens, but really, it was Disney's fault all along.

Lesson Learned

I've mentioned before that I sometimes try to start fights with people when I'm drinking.

I don't mean I actually want to fight people, I must just think its cute to say "C'mon, lets go!" or something.

Although, I've realized something very important when trying to start a fight with your drunken friends:

They are drunk.

This means their depth perception is probably less than stellar.

Last night I was hanging out with Brendan and his roommates. We went back to his place after going to everyone's favourite irish pub, O'Byrnes!

His roommate Ben, Brendan, and I decide to play some Rock Band, when Ben and I start getting into an altercation.

"Lets go, Ben!"

"Alright fine!"

And I hold up my fists like I'm getting ready to go into a boxing match.

Its at this point Ben punches me in the nose.

(Older posts have provided evidence that when you have a septum ring, this really, really hurts.)

AND I MEAN

He probably didn't mean to punch me in the nose, right?

I got all WHAT THE HELL, BEN but he didn't seem apologetic.

Whatever, Brendan and I go to the basement to play Rock Band without him.

LATER:

We come upstairs when I'm about to go home to find Ben passed out on a couch in the living room.

Naturally I jumped on him and slapped his legs and arms furiously, yelling "YOU PUNCHED ME IN THE NOSE."

Not the greatest way to wake up, I'm sure.

I mean, unless you're into that. There's a market for everything.

Reasons to not let me in your car

I like to start shit with other drivers when you don't realize I'm doing it. I yell "WHAT UP BALLER" at cars with bad rims, and "DON'T BE AN IDIOT" at cars going too slow. If the weather is nice, I will roll down my window. I don't even realize I'm doing this, its animal instinct.

Generally I keep my shit-startin' to a more moderate degree. My favourite pass time is staring at other drivers while we're stopped at a stop light. Usually I'll stare until they look at me, and then I'll shift my gaze just enough so I'm looking past their shoulder and not at them.

This causes severe awkwardness for people who are NOT IMMUNE TO AWKWARDNESS, until I casually look back out the front windshield.

Last night Kylie and I were driving to Fimoso's (BEST PIZZA EVER*) and when we were waiting to turn en route, a honda civic stopped beside us.

"I'M GONNA STARE AT HIM" - Larissa

"Go right ahead." - Kylie

So I do, but he's not noticing. Defeated, I turn away, and then dramatically whip my head back towards his direction, just for a laugh.

BUT WAIT.

HE'S LOOKING AT ME NOW!

And this all happens so quickly that my head whip turned into throwing myself down in Kylie's car so he couldn't see me. ONE SWIFT MOTION.

Now cleverly concealed, the Honda's driver just looks at Kylie with a strange expression on his face, to which she looks back, mildly apologetic.

I imagine their silent interplay as follows:

"What the hell is wrong with the girl in your passenger seat?"

"And who are you to judge on the quality of my passengers?"

"I'm just saying, I can't tell if she was looking at me or hit her head on the window and passed out."

"Oh no, she just throws her head down like that."

"Ah I see, well green light now, cheerio."

"Cheerio."

*Fimoso's has the best pizza ever because Kylie gets angry about her pizza being late, and then she gets free pizza the next time she goes in, as well as Gelato samplin' and lengthy conversation with the cute manager about Australia.

I made sure to remember not to stare.

Its NEVER LUPUS

The stereo in my car is broken. The right side speakers are definitely not operating at optimum capacity, but I'll take what I can get, sound wise.

Every morning I crank my iPod on the car stereo, carefully selecting "MORNING PUMP UP" music to make the fact I'm driving to work at 7:12AM a little more exciting. But I've come to enjoy one of the simple pleasures in life, and that is: When my right-side speakers kick in.

Its like the universe is saying "You know what Larissa, we're gonna give you a full-on musical experience this morning! If at first it seemed like half the world was against you, well you were wrong, we're all singin' for you this time!"

And for a moment.. I am zen.

Until it cuts out again, and I drive the traffic circle half-heartedly.

ALSO: Last night I had a dream. I have these a lot, and yeah I know, Imma let you finish but, Martin Luther King had the best dream of all time.

I dreamed that I went to a costume party with all my friends, and George Clooney decided to attend. Someone must have drugged me (Or drugged old George!) because suddenly I was making out with him. And while I was thinking "Sweet, celebrity!" I was also thinking "Too old!" The bar tender working the party must have thought so too, because she made fun of me, so of course I had to start shit. I pull her over the bar, pulled her shirt over her head, and punched her in the face!

Then I wandered down a lonely dirt road out of shame, but Elyse found me, gave me my nurse costume, and said "Its okay, lets go party"

Thanks Elyse.

I told her all about this dream, to which she says:

"ho man, i'll bet that's an example of a fairly tame and non-bizarre dream for you."

Good call E, my dreams are usually 5x more messed up.

+ Words of wisdom before the close of this blog entry:

"Having a webcam chat with a guy, whether you know him or not, is always gonna lead to SURPRISE, HERE'S MY PENIS."

Bad Morning

I regret a lot of things in my life, unfortunately.

This morning I realized one of the more recent ones is buying a tamagotchi.

A few months ago Elyse and I visited the "WAREHOUSE SALE" section of the mall, where Winners used to be, but it is now gutted and filled with boxes of out-of-season cosmetics and "urban cowgirl bras."

True story.

So naturally I check out the toys section and find OMG TAMAGOTCHI for only $6.99!

When I paid for it the cashier looked me up and down and said "Is this for you?"

"Yes, I am reliving my childhood."

"Okay..."

WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE?

Anyway, I played with it for a good few days before I realized all tamagotchis ever do is shit and complain (ie: beep at you) until they die from living in their own poo.

So I threw it in with a bunch of electronics stuff and forgot about it.

Until this morning.

Turns out when you leave a tamagotchi dead too long (or possibly when the batteries die, to warn you that YOUR TAMAGOTCHI IS DEAD) it beeps. Well, not so much beeps, but screams. It is a nonstop highpitched beep, that's not loud enough to wake you, but apparently enough to make you go crazy while you're sleeping.

Regret #2: Putting my tamagotchi in an unspecified, random place.

Its hard to find the source of an ominious noise when you're groggy, confused, and have a (severely) messy room.

NOT COOL.

I eventually found it, found a screwdriver, and aborted that battery.

Not before apparently pocket dialing kenny at 6:15 in the morning, and almost hitting a brand new lancer on my way to work.

I'd like to expirimentally work on my theory that semi-loud, nonstop noises during sleep eff with your sanity.

I felt drunk this morning.

Not that that had anything to do with almost hitting a car this morning.

Welcome to winter!

On a serious note

"19 year old dies, possibly drug related, at West Edmonton Rave party"

Alright, I know I'm working on this "of little consequence" theme with this blog, but this really GRINDS MY GEARS.

As someone who's frequented the rave scene for a good 3 years now, I'm seen my fair share of drugged up kandi kids and sketched out partyers. I don't do E, myself, but I understand its obviously part of the culture.

When I first started going to raves, I took it upon myself to look up as much as I could about the drug,

(Well, because I'm a RESEARCH MACHINE)

and because if I'm gonna be around it, I might as well know what's up.

People may recall last year when a 14 year old girl died after taking 6 Triple-Stacked Ecstasy Pills at the west ed Rock n' Ride party. I mean hey, that sucks, a young life lost, but don't be so fucking stupid.

If you're going to engage in dangerous activities, know what you're getting into, at least.

Even a heroin addict knows if they shoot up their arm with 6 hits of heroin on their first trip, they're not looking at a good time.

I know, I know, one tab of E could potentially kill you, we don't know what it's cut with, it reacts with everyone's body chemistry differently, but one tab.. you're playing with fire, not a forest fire.

I have never drank 30 beers in an hour, but I can extrapolate, using my knowledge of mind altering substances, that 30 beers will probably give me alcohol poisoning. What is it about E that makes people overlook simple logic? I can guarantee if that 14 year old girl was taking tylenol at home, she'd read the dosage of "1 to 2 pills every 4 hours" and follow it. But E, fuck it, I need 6 of these mutha fuckas.

Last night I went to the Frost party at Edmonton Events Center. I had a great time hopped up on nothing but red bull, but I'm considerate of people who wanna kick it up a notch. I give gum to people grinding their teeth, I talk with people about beeferoni, (true story,) whatever.

I was completely aware of paramedics working on someone last night. It happens every time I go to a show, someone's going to take too much, get dehydrated, overheat, I didn't bat an eye.

What's sad is this kid died when he completely didn't have to. I'd like to be sympathetic but I'm not. I'm going out on a limb here and assuming this wasn't a freak accident where one pill caused him to vomit and convulse, and subsequently die.

He was being an idiot.

Be smart if you're going to be dumb.

Know the risks, and maybe, if you've never done E before, don't take 6 pills, just guessin'.

To be completely selfish: one of my favourite venues, The Polish Hall, stopped hosting raves because someone got stabbed there at a 2006 rave. I'm willing to place money on Edmonton Events Center having severe trouble getting insured for another rave after this death. And people continually blame "the rave scene" for this business, rather than the idiots who attend, and persecute accordingly. Promoters better start looking for another venue.

I give my condolences, but to be fair, no one pities the man who gets attacked by a tiger, when he willingly jumped into the tiger's cage.

Why I push people away

Dear Diary:

Today I got certified in CPR! Yay!

Tonight Heather, Kylie, (Also known as Single Ladies Mafia) and I went out for Becky's birthday. I gave her her card and she loved it because it had profanity. Kids are so easy to please.

Later we went to O'Byrnes, our new stomping grounds because it has cute bartenders who gives us free shots (being a girl is so tough some times.)

Now, I'm not saying that people of the opposite sex flock to me by any means, but throughout the course of a night, I will have random conversation struck up with me a few times.

Usually I'm friendly and like to throw in a few jabs, such as

"Hey ladies, wanna join us for sociables? We need some women to make this bachelor party more acceptable, because some of the sociables cards are kind of suggestive."

"There's nothing wrong with being gay, man."

"I never said I was gay!"

"There's nothing wrong with it!"

Of course, going back to the theory that when I drink I:

1. Yell about having more shots.

2. Punch myself in the nose

3. Start fights

I tend to start shit with those unfortunate enough to strike up a conversation.

Case and point:

Kylie, HB and I are standing at the bar. A young man comes up and starts talking to us about beer, birthdays, what we're drinking, etc.

This is all fine and dandy.

He asks us for our names.

"I'm Kylie," says Kylie

"I'm Heather," says Heather.

The man puts goes to shake my hand, and I grasp it firmly, looking into his eyes and say

"Hi, I'm The Hammer."

Don't mess.

Soon after, as this guy was still talking uncomfortably to Kylie, I stuck my arm between then and said "Excuse me sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back."

Hi, I'm The Cockblock.

And my mother thinks I'll never get married, WHAT IS SHE TALKING ABOUT?

Later I started an uproarious game of MOOSE KIIIINGGGG with everyone at our table, a bouncer, and a few randoms throughout the bar.

Yeah, so I guess I've been drinking pretty regularely (vis a vis: once everyone 1 - 2 weeks, not every night, in my defense please), but I bring fun and good times wherever I go!

Fortune teller

Weekly nosebleed update: NO BETTER.

Today I was watching "Say Yes to the Dress" with my mother while drinking wine, (Mother daughter bonding time)

(Look, it rhymes!)

(x2!)

Anyway: My nose is itchy. I generally push down on the tip of my nose when this happens to avoid nose-picking incidents, but I can't do that anymore because of my piercing.

So I push down on my nose a little higher up, and SUDDENLY.

OW.

I feel something.. hurt.

And I pull my hand away and turn to my mom and say

"Oh. That's gonna be a bleeder.."

Pause.

1..2...3...

"Yepppppppp."

I'm so used to this I can predict the future!

I need to get my nose cauterized.

Like for realz. And I know writing about my nose bleeds is kind of gross and extremely informal, but I AM GETTING PRETTY DAMN CONCERNED.

Also, today, I bought a black vinyl nurse costume for halloween.

UGH, SO OVER-DONE.

This will be the first costume I've ever bought from a store, and not made/put together on my own.

Times they are a changin'.

That will be one uncomfortable nurse's uniform.

ALSO????!!!!

Today I went shopping for a card for Becky's 20th birthday.

I generally try to make birthday gifts/cards pretty personal, but I couldn't find anything worthwhile at Hallmark.

(If you could say it like hallmark... well you'd probably work for hallmark.)

I finally decided to just bite the bullet and buy a 50th B-day card and fix it up, Larissa style.

[click for larger image]

Because I don't post anything of consequence..

A SPECIAL ENTRY FOR THANKSGIVING: A Rambling OF SOME AMOUNT OF CONSEQUENCE



Nothing exciting has happened to me this week aside from totally changing the layout of this stupid blog and fighting off death threats. (WHAT?)

So, since my workweek officially ends Thursdays at 6 o'clock, here are some consequential points:



1. Last night my.. amusing aunt called our house. Now, she's a wonderful, caring old woman, but she always seems to have interesting points to throw out there. She called wanting to discuss the new H1N1 vaccine with my mother. Somehow the conversation turns into conspiracy theory talk (Like H1N1 is being hyped up to outrageous degrees in order to help out large pharmaceutical companies?)

NO.

Like maybe... H1N1 was created by the government to whipe out large masses of the population because humans: 1. Breathe, and 2. Therefore create carbon dioxide, and 3. Are contributing to the greenhouse effect and need to be exterminated.

Suck on that.



NEXT POINT:

2. It has come to my attention that Honda will be discontinuing the manufacture of their S2000 sports car as of this year. Yeah, I know, and Pontiac is going out of business, whatever. Lets all have a moment of silence for what the Mazda Miata should have been, but didn't have enough guts or testosterone to become.

3. Lastly, it snowed today. I was completely unaware of this fact, despite being outside this morning and looking out the windows all day. So it was great to be updated by everyone's facebook statuses that there is infact snow on the ground, thanks guys.

I really hate the Mazda Miata.

Breaking news!

Yesterday was Kylie's birthday.

This means lots of shenanigans were guaranteed to happen, because Heather, Kylie and I are tanks.

There were many memorable quotes from last night, but I choose to share my personal favourite, during an uproarious conversation at Denny's in the wee hours of the morning:

Brent, a friend of Kylies (SEE WHAT I DID THERE?) is talking about a conspiracy theory involving Hitler's remains.

He is saying how some doctors did DNA testing on the apparent skull of Hitler, and found that it was actually the skull of a 13 year old girl.

I suppose what he's trying to say is, since "Hitler's remains" were actually that of a 13 year old girl, Hitler never actually died, and was probably off partying somewhere in south america while we all assumed he was DEAD AND GONEEE, DEEEEAAAD AND GONNNNNEEEEEE. (Thank you, T.I.)

But I'm known for not catching onto the real point of conversations, so when he throws out the "AND IT WAS A 13 YEAR OLD GIRL'S SKULL," I dutifully GASP:

"SO HITLER WAS A TRANSVESTITE?!"

Coincidentally, as a young child, when I'd ask stupid questions and people would say "Is the pope catholic?" I assumed no one really knew for sure, and that this was quite the issue in the religious community.

LATE NIGHT BLOGGING

In keeping up with my "Things Google Auto-Suggest Suggests" theme..

I do have some slightly more amusing things to write about, but lets face, I'M SPENT.