HELLO FRIENDS AND ENEMIES (just kidding, I have neither)
I'm just going to warn you right now that this is a big post, so get comfortable on that couch in your underwear and get ready for an update like no other update.
disclaimer: even though that gives the illusion that this will be exciting, it probably won't.

I lost my job. Three weeks ago. And I feel like I have had so much time to blog since then but haven't truly taken advantage of it. Probably because I've been too busy playing Assassin's Creed and debating over the new season of American Horror Story with Oprah.
Since losing my job I have come to the realization that there was a whole new level of sad and pathetic that I never knew I could reach. So bravo to me for reaching that. Few examples; staying up until 4 am watching Criminal Minds, wearing the same tank top for three days because no one noticed, getting excited to go grocery shopping because it meant leaving the house.
On the day of losing my job I came home and cried about it for a few hours, drank some vodka, took a shower where I did a wonderful rendition of a Whitney Houston song, got really angry, cried some more, danced to Michael Jackson, and then slept. I basically went through all the stages of grief in about 5 hours. It was exhausting.
Then I got over it, and now I've reached a beautiful state of bitterness where everything is ironic and nothing hurts.

Clearly I have not gotten another job yet because a) it's the Christmas season and no one is hiring, and b) I am currently watching the Miss Universe pageant and muttering under my breath at their "life goals". I really don't understand these types of events. I really don't. All they've done is walk back and forth across a stage in barely any clothes while an annoying woman has told me facts like "she once helped her father birth a cow...wow!" and "when she gets nervous, she kisses her own shoulders." THANK GOD THAT I NOW KNOW THESE FACTS, MY LIFE IS DRASTICALLY CHANGED BECAUSE MISS BRAZIL HAS CONVERSATIONS WITH HER SISTER IN HER SLEEP. Really? REALLY?
Sadly, I could really see myself using that fact at some sort of social gathering where I was nervous and there was an awkward silence.

Since I have no money and it is Christmas I had to get a little creative this year. But I cannot share with you what this involves since my family are really the only people that read this and therefore spoiler alert. I also finally put up our Christmas tree yesterday, although to be fair it's more of a Christmas branch since it only comes up to my waist. And I am not tall. But my cold ice heart is starting to melt just in time for the big day. Which this year will hopefully involve a lot of alcohol and at least one horror movie.

I also have a trip planned to go home in January which will be exciting. I haven't been home to see my friends since April of last year. I wish I could show up and surprise everyone with how different and grown up I am since moving to a different province. Unfortunately most of them will realize nothing has changed except my hair is longer and I haven't washed my jeans in awhile. And I am slightly more unstable.
I am mostly excited to be reunited with Oprah, my overly attached bff. I feel very deeply that over the past few months we have reached a whole new level of friendship. Being apart has proved to us both that everyone else sucks and 4 hour long phone conversations every night are normal. And that if we were to ever sadly become single, we would live together and sleep in bunk beds. Because if that were the case, we would truly be forever alone.

The other night I took a nap and kept dreaming that I woke up from my nap and Mitch was watching Seven on his computer and I was like what are you doing, why did you download this, we own two copies of it. Then I would wake up again and yell WHAT'S IN THE BOX? at him. Then I would wake up and try to tell him I want to watch the movie too but I'm deaf and can't hear his response. Then I woke up in real life and watched Seven on the couch with Mitch. It was a weird night. I despise naps. 

I love how everyone was freaking out about the new instagram "policies". I mean come on, you really think your photos are so special that people will buy them? Good lord, better delete my instagram, don't want all those selfies and photos of my cat wearing a sweater to be sold to some advertising company. DAMN YOU CORPORATE GREED.
When I read those policies I had a little look through my own photos just to see what was even on there. The problem with instagram is that it's so easy to take photos, post them, and then forget it ever happened. And on android's version when you see your full profile it's actually a pain in the ass to look at each photo you posted. Do you ever wonder what people would think you were really like if they were just shown your instagram photos? Take a good look at your profile and see what it says about you. Mine basically tells the truth of what I really am; a lonely fan girl with too much time on her hands. Seriously, how do I even have followers?
But now we can all breathe a sigh of relief because we were all misled and now we know no one will be buying pictures of our various McDonalds meals and artsy colored coffee cups. But of course, it is the internet, and whatever you post will never be truly safe. Which is why I get such a kick out of people posting photos of themselves in their underwear or just plain naked. Especially when they're underage. WHO ARE THESE KIDS? WHERE ARE THEIR PARENTS? And a better question; can pedophiles get instagram profiles?
The internet lately is like a girls gone wild free for all. How does anyone think it's a good idea to post seXy~ photos of themselves publicly for everyone to see? I don't want to see that shit. And I love when girls get upset because "so and so" shared their photo with the world and now "imnotanoldwhiteman69" is stalking them on facebook. What did you expect? I loooooove it. I really do. I know that it's wrong, but I also don't care. I hope one day we can all learn a lesson from this "selfie generation" but I also know that won't happen.

Honestly,
I would just like 2012 to be over. And it may be on Friday since that is the end of times and what not. But if that doesn't work out, then 2013 needs to hurry its' ass up because I got dealt a shit deck this year and I'm over it. But at least today I got to witness my room mate make a 7ft penis out of snow in our front yard.

I hope you all have a very merry Christmas filled with drunken mistakes, re-gifting, and obesity. Also love and joy etc.

Ugggghhhhh my life is the worst. I screwed up making mash potatoes but I still ate them and they were gross. And I'm currently watching a Lindsay Lohan movie. And it's not even The Parent Trap. Uggggghhhhhhh.

It's sad when your life is so boring you can't even blog about it on your blog about how boring your life is. Seriously. I haven't even had a horrifying incident on public transit to tell you about.

My life has been taken over by The Walking Dead and I spend every Sunday in an emotional turmoil and then at least three days getting over it. I keep drawing zombies and my desktop is filled with pictures of Daryl Dixon and I considered taking crossbow lessons. And today I day dreamed about December 21st turning into a zombie apocalypse. I'm a mess. If a zombie apocalypse seems more appealing to me than my current life....I took a wrong turn. And it's called Surrey and not wearing pants while eating old cheetos and drinking energy drinks while watching hours of TV.

But imagine how much cooler this blog would be if it was about surviving a zombie apocalypse...not that anyone would be reading it....because they'd all be zombies...

At work I get to draw sharks and the radio station finally got changed so I don't have to hear the same Katy Perry song 10 times in a four hour shift. Now it plays such classics like the titanic song which my boss belts out from his office, and footloose which I sing to myself and dance in the bathroom to. And I obviously work too. Sometimes. Mostly I just draw sharks.

I do have to say, though, that we have one of those phone systems where you call and it gives you 5 options (#5 being me) and the options stated are extremely clear. Yet no one actually listens to them, it's insane. I had one call today asking me what hours we're open. Option 1 is "For a list of store hours and address, press 1." SO PRESS ONE, DUMMY. And the worst is option 3 which is specifically for confirming your delivery and finding out what time they'll show up at your home. Yet I get about three calls a day with customers asking me when their couch will be at their home. And I will politely say, ma'am I am customer service not delivery, I have no access to the schedule, please call back and hit option 3. "I did hit option 3" CLEARLY YOU DIDN'T BECAUSE I ANSWERED. You can't lie your way out of this one lazy customer. You are a liar.

Surrey is still the end of the rainbow. As in, the dirty cigarette butt filled puddle where I saw the rainbow end once. Apparently on Halloween here everyone shoots off fireworks till 3am. Which was greeeaaaattttt. And for like a week before and after there were after/before shock fireworks. What happened to the good old days where trick meant toilet papering someone's house? Not shooting off fireworks at peoples cars and scaring the shit out of my dog.
6 more months in this purgatory and then we will be home free. And hopefully not as broke as we are now.
I just drank sour milk. And a week old bag of cheetos has become its' own food group.

I have a big exciting project coming up before Christmas and I'm going to be one of those assholes that's all IT'S SECRETIVE AND I'M GOING TO GET YOU GUYS ALL EXCITED AND SITTING ON THE EDGE OF YOUR SEAT PEEING IN ANTICIPATION. But seriously, it's awesome, and a big deal for me, and I can't wait to share it with everyone. Soooo....stay tuned....
...or don't, I'm not your boss.

 

Well friends,
it's time to get the salt and start salting my doorways. You know why? Because we have a crack head problem. I will not indulge the details as they are terrifying but to sum it all up; Surrey is a shit hole and I need all of you to swear to never move here. Unless you already live here, in which case I suggest you purchase a base ball bat and salt your doorways as well. Not that salt will work on crack heads, that is strictly a ghost type deal....but one can hope! And since my paranoia is well into the dangerous red part of the scale, I'll take anything at this point; including demon traps. Seriously...we sleep with a baseball bat in our room.

But in better news; Mitch and I have purchased bicycles. Mine is blue and has a basket. I put a Serta sheep key chain on it, because I'm tough like that. I am so in love with my bike. For the first two nights I had it in our living room with a blanket over it to keep it warm. (Just kidding...just another crack head precaution.) We have gone for many a bike ride together, including the liquor store last night where a lonely man tried to engage in conversation with Mitch about a BC Bud beer. He asked him if he thought it would get him high. The answer is no my friends. Today we ventured to third beach with a bike ride through Stanley Park. I couldn't find a beach blanket so we used an old sheet and a guy next to us gave me two smokes! They are probably laced with acid and I doubt I will smoke them....but it's the thought that counts.
With us both now having bikes we are cutting down on our gas money and I am toning my legs. Which at this point have 0 tone. Seriously...after a day full of biking my legs feel like jello. I am extremely unfit.
Probably because I spend all day sitting on the couch drinking Monster and watching Supernatural.

Lately I feel as though this house is cursed. Everyone who lives here is basically Bad Luck Brian. But it seems my luck is turning around, or maybe it is just a false sense of hope and tomorrow I will be hit by a car. It is nice feeling though, to bike around in the sunshine, listening to Kansas and Motley Crue, and feeling like the world is on your side. That rain cloud over your head has passed and perhaps you may risk jay walking. I shall hold onto the feeling as long as possible.

My new job is going well. Except for the fact that I have to use my coworkers employee number since my number is currently stuck in purgatory. Thanks guys! Way to be on top of things! There's a huge tent sale going on. It has its many benefits when you're in CSR; free pop and water, BBQ's, and I have to wear the same yellow work shirt everyday and therefore no longer have to think about what to wear to work and not look like a dirty hippie. The downside is copious amounts of buyers remorse and returns. Boo.
Quick tip ya'll; when you're gonna buy a couch...think it through first, don't return it, don't be a jerk. It's a fucking couch, not an African baby.
We also hired a bunch of new people and I have given up on remembering everyone's names. I find it hilarious that I could tell you every character from The O.C., but not the new whatshisname who works in the warehouse. It may start with a K...or a T....

In more exciting news; my Father has his own blog. It is a fashion blog. He posts pictures of handsome men in suits and gives advice to older men on how to dress. It's pretty awesome regardless of whether you are a man over 40.
http://slightlyimpoverished.blogspot.ca/
Yeah, that's right...my Dad has a fashion blog. I'll leave you to deal with that. He also has a tumblr.
He is basically cooler than me.

Which is not hard to be.

Goodnight ya'll! I have Supernatural waiting for me on the TV and a dog to play with. (But no Monster, come on, I'm not that predictable!)

Hello fellow plain eaters and bloggers who came here by accident,
I have had a relatively exciting life for the past week, and now it has gone back to the way I like it; plain and boring.
The casualties of my titillating week are many. Starting with an aggressive bug who took advantage of my sleeping body to eat my lower back. Which in turn caused an allergic reaction that made me look like I had chicken pox and had to leave work early because I couldn't stop scratching. Customers don't want help from an itchy sales woman.
Secondly I became very ill exactly 48 hours before my vacation to Vegas and it lasted through the entire trip. In fact I'm pretty sure I just coughed up the last bit of phlegm this morning. Farewell cold!
And now I have learned a valuable lesson that you should not leave giant blisters on the bottom of your feet to "heal" on their own. Both my feet are currently wrapped up in bandages because after going at them with a pin to get rid of all the bacteria they are now too sore to walk on without mucho padding.

Vegas was extremely fun though. I ate like a fat American, took photos like a European tourist, and cried like the skinny white girl I am at Criss Angel. I saw some bad ass sharks in honor of my second favorite time of year; Shark Week. And got to spend some quality time with the fam. Being the paranoid parrot that I am, I packed half the pharmacy in case of any kind of sickness/injury. Luckily my step sister is becoming a paramedic so she is bracing herself for calls at least twice a week asking if "this is normal" or "am i dying?"

Probably one of my favorite moments was overhearing a mother scolding her child for throwing up in the buffet line. "You didn't need that last cookie!" And then discovering the pile of vomit while I filled my own plate with piles of cookies and cakes.

...I did not vomit...in case you were wondering.
I have only thrown up once in my entire life and I would rather suffer from infected blisters on both feet than throw up ever again. But perhaps I will save that story for another day.

My work has been going through some drastic changes over the past month. We have two new managers who are middle aged men that seem to both know all the words to the Lady Gaga songs that play on the radio, and crack terrible jokes. The two new guys I was hired alongside have both quit and we have now hired two new young girls who exclude me from their conversations because I am a weirdo and cannot interact with coworkers. I do not have a brain filter. A lot of people have problems with this.
This morning I took part in my first work rally. This involved being at a movie theater at 7:30 am to not see a movie but to sit in a hot theater surrounded by people I have never met all yelling and showing far too much energy. One of the big bosses showed inspirational sports videos, handed out BC Lions tickets, and yelled a lot. There was even a guy dressed in a lion suit.
At one point they made us all roar and do the wave.
....Did I mention this was at 7:30 in the morning?

Tomorrow I start my new position in the company; I am back to being a receptionist. Only at my work we call it customer service. I am pretty excited to be able to hide behind a phone and be a socially awkward penguin again. I also get to sit on a comfy office chair all day and have Saturdays off.

In other boring news Mitch departed to Edmonton this morning and will be back on Thursday with our dog! Which means I have 5 days in which to do nothing and some more nothing. I decided to treat myself to some cheap seasons from Walmart and am now spending my free time watching Season 5 of Criminal Minds and Supernatural, Season 1 of Dead Like Me and Grey's Anatomy, and Season 1 and 2 of Smallville. I also have to dog proof our home and not panic about unsub's breaking into my house while I am sleeping, eating, peeing etc. I wish I was kidding when I say that I will be sleeping with scissors under my pillow under Mitch returns.

 I shall now retreat back to the couch, watch Criminal Minds, lock all my doors and windows, and wait for it to be a later hour that now where I am not embarrassed to fall asleep and feel like an old lady.

Hello dear friends,
It has been two weeks since my last (confession) post and I regret nothing. Since...well...I actually haven't done anything. Work consumes my life because I let it. Although yesterday Mitch took me to a baseball game where he got horrifically sun burnt and my nose gained a new layer of red skin. It was all very exciting although I was devastated at the cost of a bottle of water. $4!!!!!!!!!!! That's most of my bus fare to get to and from work. Then I started to panic because I am a paranoid parrot and was convinced I would get heat stroke. But Mitch saved the day by finding an empty $4 water bottle on the ground which I filled from the bathroom tap. Poor living, my friends, can't beat it. All you yuppies paying for $4 water...HAH!

Then we walked to the beach and debated over the meaning of SPF, which we then googled, and realized we were both wrong. At the beach we reflected on living in BC and how lucky we were and then we got all sappy and took a photo. The walk back was brutal because I was tired and thirsty and wasn't wearing socks. But we ventured through the west end and planned our future and drooled over the apartments/houses. We will live there! Even if it kills us. Which it may, because Surrey is a knife wound waiting to happen.

All in all that was the most exciting thing that's happened to me since my last update because I am apparently incapable of having fun without the help of Mitch. Although I did watch a Supernatural episode that had Robert Englund in it which was probably the highlight of my last weekend.
Today Mitch and I watched the Olympic opening ceremonies and I got emotional during Hey Jude and felt proud of the country I was from. Then it was over and I was over it. I also ventured to the library and picked up my next three weeks worth of books. The librarian kept walking by me and looking confused when I would be sprawled out on the floor with a giant pile of books and my purse at the other end of the aisle.
....I thought everyone treated a library like their own at home?
....Doesn't everyone have a library at home?
Although mine is a poor excuse since I only have one book shelf and it is broken. Books are literally piled up everywhere in that tiny room. Still a library though. Maybe I shall share pictures one day....but probably not.

My room mates and Mitch are out tonight and I am here on the couch with a towel on my head getting ready to watch a Haunting in Connecticut and having the shit scared out of me and then going to bed only to be too scared to sleep and then wake up early for work and regret everything. Including that run-on sentence.

Now feel free to enjoy my next horror movie suggestions that will probably not scare you and you will probably hate.

HORROR MOVIE POST #2

SIGNS
Yeah, I know, I can hear everyone ever going SERIOUSLY?! M. NIGHT SHYAMALAN IS THE WORST DIRECTOR EVER I HATE HIM FFFFFFUUUUUUUU.
But you know what, Signs is one of my favorite movies ever. And sure, maybe me and Oprah are the only people in the world who actually like 80% of Mr. S's movies but that's okay....because we love them enough for the rest of the world.
This movie is flawless.
Basically it's a widowed father who lives with his two kids and his brother in a house in the middle of a corn field. They wake up one morning to find a huge crop circle and then all this weird shit starts happening around the house. Turns out it's aliens, and they're all over the world watching and waiting.
But this movie just has some of the most amazing scenes. Like when Joaquin Pheonix's character is watching the news and the alien appears out of the bushes. SCARED ME SO BAD THE FIRST TIME. (And pretty much every time after that ever). Or when Mel Gibson and Joaquin are running around the outside of the house trying to scare off what they think are kids playing pranks. Or when Mel comes home to find all three of them wearing tin foil hats. Or when the girl at the pharmacy confesses her sins to Mel.
OR EVERY OTHER SCENE IN THIS MOVIE.
Maybe I'm just tainted by all the good memories of watching this film over and over again with Oprah or even the first time I saw it in Florida at the theater with my parents. I came home after and was trying to fall asleep when I saw a shadow that looked like long, skinny fingers drift across my closed blinds. And then I heard a *tap tap tap* against the window pane. I shot out of bed, hid in the closet, and was pretty much convinced that aliens had found me and this was the end. Then I realized it was the sprinkler system hitting my window and that the shadow was, yep you guessed it, a tree.
But my life flashed before my eyes.
This movie is just so great, and I think it's completely underrated because people assume it's garbage. It's not! The script is flawless, there's some really funny moments, there's some heart felt moments, sad moments etc.
I love it. Oprah loves it. And my mom also loves it.
Therefore....nothing else matters.

CLOVERFIELD
I totally missed the whole viral campaign for this movie and I regret that. On the plus side though when I finally watched it, I had no idea what it was about. And I instantly fell in love. As soon as the statue of liberty's head hit the sidewalk I was like THIS IS GOOD TO GO!
In case you live under a rock, this movie is set in NYC and is filmed on a hand held camera. There's a going away party happening when all of a sudden BOOM a big monster comes to terrorize the city. We watch as friends try and survive the attack and get to safety while also on a rescue mission to get their other friend who decided to live on the highest floor possible of an apartment building. Then everyone dies. The end.
The only thing I don't like about this movie is how quickly you see the monster. It's like half an hour in. And that's a pet peeve of mine. But the monster itself is pretty bad ass. Also J.J. Abrams produced it so you know it's solid gold.
It's not really scary, it just leaves a bad feeling in your stomach at the end when you start to put yourself in the character's situation and wonder what you would've done. Also I watched it while on the top floor of an apartment building. I remember looking out over the balcony at the city around me and thinking, I'm so fucked.

THE BIRDS
An Alfred Hitchcock CLASSIC. Also the first movie of his I ever saw. I remember watching it with my mom on the couch when I was pretty young and being scared so bad that I pretended I had to pee every 10 minutes to hide in the bathroom. But now it is a favorite for me and my mom and we like to watch it and talk in dramatic tones and look vaguely into the distance.
A woman purchases some love birds in a pet shop for a handsome man and then heads over to his town to give them to him. But she is randomly attacked by a sea gull and in turn is invited to stay by the handsome fellow. Over the next few days flocks of birds start attacking the people of this town and it gets more and more viscous until the handsome fellow, his family, and the beautiful woman are trapped inside a home while birds reign down upon them. Then all of a sudden they decide to escape and manage to do so without the birds attacking. It is never explained why the birds go crazy or why they stop.
What makes this movie so creepy is not only crows (which is a personal fear of mine that stemmed from this movie) but the fact that there is no background music which most horror movies lean on to scare you. This creates such an ominous feeling that you don't even stop to think....why are seagulls able to kill people? They're not that tough!
Also it's Alfred Hitchcock and he is a genius.
If you haven't seen this horror classic then you cannot call yourself a horror movie fan. Yeah, I'm getting pretentious....sue me.
But seriously, get your shit together.

I was going to do 5 reviews but my computer is about to die and I'm too lazy to get my charger. So goodnight ya'll! 

Horror Movies #1

I've decided to add to this blog a post (more than one eventually) about horror movie recommendations. And by recommendations I mean movies I've seen and need to keep track of, and movies most of you will think are awful.  I truly believe I have the worst taste in horror movies ever, but at least I'm not pretentious right? I could sit here and be like FRENCH HORROR FILMS ARE THE SHIT AND ANYTHING ELSE IS GARBAGE....YOU SUCK. Or tell you that the special effects were "sub par" and use language like "sell outs" and "i've seen every b-movie ever". I'm not going to compare directors and then get all fussy over the "repetitive story lines". You may go to r/horror for that. This is simply me, being a lover of all things horror, the cheesier the better (like my taste in potato chips) and sharing with you some movies that I love more than I love most of my friends on facebook.

(Keep in mind these are filled with spoilers since I have a knack for spoiling the end of every movie ever if you haven't seen it.) 
















FINAL DESTINATION 1-5
 I think I love these movies more than anyone I've ever met. Whenever I watch one I just freak the fuck out alone every time I notice a sign from death. It's like solving a mystery. Only...everyone dies...and death is always the killer...
The FD movies are always based on some freak accident that happens, but one of the people in the accident is actually viewing this as a premonition and so when they awake and start seeing the signs they save as many people as they can. But now they've screwed up death's design and so death is coming after them to tie up the loose ends.  Oh yeah, and there's always this creepy black guy that knows everything but never actually really helps them. He's ma fav~~
These movies are amazing simply because they play on every fear you've ever had. And create new ones like garb-orators, drive thrus, neon signs, BBQs, pool drains, and statues of Buddha. For a paranoid parrot like myself these movies are just the worst, yet the best. The only one I've seen once is The Final Destination, simply because of the ridiculous name and every time I mention it I have to exaggerate THE Final Destination. Except JK it wasn't the final one. Although technically it is. Since FD5 is the prequel. WHICH IS SOLID GOLD. Seriously. I had no idea when I watched #5 and I almost cried at the end because I was so happy. In fact, I probably did shed a tear.
The best part is just how violent the deaths are. It's like a slap in the face every time. And I'm not one for gore and violence really, but the FD franchise is just SO INTENSE that all I can do is give it respect.  I also love when franchises like FD do little shout outs for the fans that have followed every movie religiously.
Side note; the story line was originally written to be an X-Files episode. So, you know, FD and I are "destined" to be together. GET IT?!

THE MIST
Now, side story; when I first read this short story written by my beloved Stephen King, I was staying in Kelowna in a hotel by a lake. I read it one night and awoke the next morning to see nothing but mist outside of my window. That night I watched The Fog, then went for a walk along the beach with my Dad only to be confronted with more mist/fog and so I spent the rest of the vacation in my hotel room watch The Shining (we'll get to that) and reading Salem's Lot.
The story was always one of my favorite short stories and so when the movie came out I was a little hesitant. BUT....it was amazing. And I really don't get all the intense hate for this film. It's an awesome creature flick.
 It's basically about this weird mist that envelops a town after a big storm the night before. All the characters are stuck inside the grocery store when the mist starts to "attack". You watch as the characters deal with monsters trying to get in, deal with each other turning on the other, and how to escape this crazy unexplained mist.
It's not terrifying, but it stays with you when you finish it. In fact, I burst into tears when the movie ended. AND I KNOW I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE....you cowards. The monster at the end is so bad ass and the characters are so emotional. I'm also a big nerd for when movies based on Stephen King stories show a little tribute to the man himself. I get all giddy and proclaim to the room LOOK! (although I am usually alone). Like how the bookshelf in the grocery store is filled with Stephen King books. LOVE THAT SHIT. Also Frank Darabont has adapted two other Stephen King books into films; The Green Mile, and The Shawshank Redemption.
Oh man, I'm nerding out hard right now. I've told you nothing of the movie, just fun facts about Stephen King. You now know what it's like to hang out with me.

AMERICAN PSYCHO
If anyone knows me even a little, you will know of my intense love of this movie. Patrick Bateman, you silly goose, you.  My twitter name is Patrick Bateman, and "I have to return some videotapes" is literally my "bio" for everything I have on the internet. If you do not like this movie, your point is no longer valid. Even if you don't like it, at least admit it's FUCKING AMAZING. I have it on blu ray and dvd, just in case something happens to one of them. And tbh I will probably be buried with at least one of the copies. The opening monologue of this movie will be read at my wedding, I swear. GOD...everything about this movie is amazing. The music, the humor, the dry wit, the fashion, the ending, the beginning, the middle, the credits.
I'm not even going to attempt to explain this plot to you because if you haven't seen it yet.....well...YOU SUCK. (ahahaha I did it, I'm sorry, I'm just as bad as r/horror).
I have also read the book, which made me almost vomit. But it was on the top ten list of most offensive books ever written and I said, "hey, challenge accepted." But tbh, and I rarely say this, I love the movie way more. Christian Bale is so flawless in this movie, that even to this day when I am watching the new Batman movies, I get confused. BATMAN WHERE IS YOUR CHAINSAW AND NAIL GUN AND RAIN COAT?
"This is not an exit."

THE MIDNIGHT MEAT TRAIN
Oh my gosh, I am a late comer to this movie, but I am so in love. I read a review for it at work a few months back and completely forgot about it 'till a few weeks ago when I realized Netflix had it. So I built a blanket fort, cracked open a soda, and fell in love.
As a brit I have always loved Vinnie Jones. I also happen to find him completely dashing, even when covered in blood....actually maybe more so. He's also the PERFECT antagonist. LOOK AT HIM. He's kind of intense. AND HE HAS NO LINES!!!!!!!!!!!!! Except three words spoken at the end. I fucking loved that.
This movie is stunning, horrifying, flawless etc. I love the story line so much. Honestly, when I read the plot originally I was kind of daunted about the ending but when I actually watched it I was blown away.
To sum it up a New York photographer is out and about late at night trying to take amazing photos to get made into a gallery show. He notices Vinnie Jones lurking around on the train and realizes one of the girls he photographed the night before at the train station is now missing. He starts to investigate and gets all crazy about it and starts stalking poor Vinnie. Then his girlfriend gets involved and the whole thing goes to shit. It ends with them all fighting to the death on the train...BUT WAIT...what is lurking at that final stop? And why is the train filled with dead bodies? What needs feeding........

Leslie Bibb is kind of annoying though imo although I was saddened when she was murdered. But mostly because of the look on Bradley Cooper's face.
This is also based on a short story, written by Clive Barker who is phenomenal. And if you look closely you can actually see some of his paintings in this film.
I was a little turned off by some the scenes because of the torture. I'm the worst when it comes to torture. And when Roger Bart's character is hanging from meat hooks, ALIVE, and the train is swaying and they keep bumping into him, I almost puked. UGH. I had to close my eyes. Also when Vinnie's pulling out the teeth of that body, TOO MUCH. But it fits for the movie, and I respect that.
Honestly, this is one of the best horror movies I've seen in a long time, and I will probably rewatch it a few hundred times.
And obviously now I am terrified to be the last one on the train......

IDENTITY
I actually saw this in theaters when it came out a long time ago with my parents. And I always remember about halfway through the film my mom leaned over and whispered in my ear "I know who did it." She was right. She has a knack for those things. It also has a pretty good cast, including John Cusack who I LOVE LOVE LOVE. The twist ending is totally mind blowing, unless you are my mom, and every time I watch it I always get so excited because I know it's coming. Basically it's ten strangers stranded mysteriously at a motel and they all start getting killed off one by one. They all have sketchy past stories, and they all share the same birthday. But in fact they are all just different personalities of a schizophrenic who is trying to be cured by his psychologist. The doctor believes that the person who ends up living will be the best personality for the schizophrenic murderer and he will be able to live peacefully. Confused? Yeah, I was too. But the movie explains it all much better than I did and it's actually a pretty creepy movie.
Also there's a poem in it that creeped me out so bad when I first heard it that I became obsessed with it;
As I was going up the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today 
I wish, I wish he'd go away.
It was actually written a long time ago by Hughes Mearns and is called "Antigonish" if you would like to read the whole thing. (which I recommend because it is very creepy)


WOW. That was actually so much fun. I will totally do this again whether anyone reads these or not. YEY MOVIE REVIEWS AND FEELING LIKE YOU HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SAAAAAAYYYYY.
Also feel free to comment and call me an idiot or freaking out because we are in love with the same movies.

Greetings my friends,
Much has been happening since my last post. Except not really. I feel like people always say that as an excuse to not post for weeks at a time. I have found a job! I sell furniture. It's like playing the Sims all day only you get paid, and you're not responsible for your customer's lives and baby makings. It's a long commute which means I spend hours a week on a bus that smells like cow poop and surrounded by Surrey freaks and geeks who carry knives and drink out of vodka bottles. So far I seem to have a knack for selling furniture, but I still continue to be a socially awkward penguin. Most of the time I think customers just feel bad for me because I stutter and stumble and then blush and say, "I'm new." Then they feel obligated to buy furniture from the obviously mentally challenged girl.

I have to dress in business casual. Which does not bode well on my closet or pay check. Mainly I show up for work wearing dresses that are a little too big for me and shuffle around in flats that are too small. No one at my work believes I am 23. They all assume I am under age. Perhaps because I look like a 16 year old dressing up in her mother's work clothes, or because I can't hold a normal conversation.
A coworker asked how can I be in retail if I never talk. I didn't answer.

Mitch and I have had a few adventures downtown, or going to the beach late at night. I still haven't been to the beach during the day time since I moved here. Woe is me. We went and saw City Hall which is where a bunch of the X-Files episodes were filmed. I wandered through the community garden pretending to be Scully, investigating the plants for any extraterrestrial life forms. Alas, there were none.

My work schedule has pretty much taken over my none existent life. I work 'till 9 almost every night and don't get home 'till almost 11. On Tuesday I had a day off and spent it in the library. Unfortunately on my trip back my bag broke and my books fell all over the sidewalk.
I thought that only happened in movies? Obviously Tom Hanks was not there to stoop down and help me pick them up then casually invite me for coffee where we would realize that we had in fact been anonymously emailing each other for months and falling in love.
No, wait, that's you've got mail.

Yesterday I had another day off and tried to read in the garden but the sun was so hot I felt like I was on fire. Also I didn't wait for my sun tan lotion to dry and so my legs became covered in little grass seeds which gave me hives. I am so sexy in the summer. I also managed to get into the shower with my glasses on, which was a first, but probably not the last. At least it wasn't my bra this time.

Today is my last day off. I have not left bed. I downloaded Devil Inside, Don't Be Afraid of the Dark, and Dream House. I am currently downloading The Innkeepers and The Woman in Black. It is Friday the 13th and I am scaring myself shitless. But I must see these movies so that Oprah and I can have 4 hour long conversations about them. She is the only one who I know who will indulge my incessant need to discuss every aspect of American Psycho and what Stephen King said about the Blair Witch Project. I sometimes wish there was a totally normal, not weird way to make friends on the internet who loved horror movies as much as you do without having to make some sort of plenty of fish account. Or worrying about being downvoted on reddit.
I mean obviously I'm not having much luck over here in Surrey, all my coworkers are in their 40's, and anyone I meet on the street I am instantly convinced is going to stab me. Unless you count the filipino guy who works at the gas station and sings me show tunes and gets confused when I buy red bull instead of monster.
Not that Oprah isn't enough, she's all a girl can need in a best friend. But she lives in Calgary. And cannot drive here just to watch Friday the 13th movies with me and get drunk.

I've seen far too many crows in the past few weeks and I don't want to risk leaving the house in case of accidental death today.
And also because I'm convinced all my room mates and I are experiencing final destination after a very unfortunate friday night where we all came close to death in different experiences. I almost got stabbed alone on the bus, and the rest almost got in a car accident.
So needless to say, I've been warning everyone of the signs. Watch out for the number 180 and any slight breezes inside the house. Which is quite confusing with the fan on all day. DEATH? No, wait, air conditioning.

I could really use a soda and some ice cream though.....I guess the gas station isn't that far....

It has been awhile my non existence friends and readers. But I have been busy moving to BC, Surrey specifically. And now I have turned into a hippie who doesn't shave and eats the lawn for dinner.
Just kidding. I still dress like a mom from the 90's, only sometimes I throw in a little teen witch to shake it up. But I feel like since moving here I have to prove to everyone back home that I'm not a lunatic for doing this and I have no future plans for building a canoe made out of recyclables to go whale watching.
Although I would like to go whale watching.
I will share with you the three main questions I get every day of my new life;
(read with hints of sarcasm)
"How's the rain? Sick of it yet?"
Oh it's great, thanks for asking, it's actually plus 20 right now without a cloud in sight. Tell me again how it hailed yesterday in Alberta.
"Isn't vancouver just like...so expensive?"
Why yes, if I were to purchase the entire city of Vancouver, I assume it would be quite expensive. Luckily for me I'm just renting a 6 bedroom house in Surrey.
"Aren't you going to get sick of living in Surrey? It's so far from downtown."
Aren't you going to get sick of paying $2000 for a closet in gastown?

I will let you in on a little secret though. I am not 100% happy with living in BC. I was not aware of how big, and how plentiful the spiders were out here. There was a black widow living in our garage. Until that day I had somewhat convinced myself that black widows were made up for movies and reddit. I also saw my first raccoon, which turned into a traumatic event, which then turned into a brilliant idea, which then turned into heart break.

I was outside smoking when I first saw Racky. He was lurking in the darkness of the trees and scared the shit out of me. I ran inside, while keeping one arm which held the cigarette outside, screaming at Mitch, asking if raccoons were dangerous. He continued to play MLB. Then Racky decided to keep coming back, and taunting Mitch by walking right by the patio door. He then leaped on top of the fence (Racky, not Mitch) and stared at us before strolling away to knock over our garbage can. I was not aware of how huge raccoons really are. My perceptions of them were greatly tainted by Dr. Doolittle. So after this horrifying experience I started to realize that maybe we could just domesticate him and he could become our pet. So we named him and I googled, only to find out it's incredibly dangerous and if you even want to try to tame a raccoon you have to get them when they're babies.

Needless to say, I am now on the look out for a raccoon baby.

Since moving to a new city I have also become aware of how bad my sense of direction really is. It took me three tries to find the forest. One time I thought I found it but it was just a park, which turns into Compton when the sun goes down. My second attempt of finding my way around this ginormous city was to find the library where I would claim my free library card. By the time I found it I was dying of heat exhaustion and had been harassed by an old lady. When I reached the front entrance I realized that the library was behind the train station which was a route I had taken a few times already. So when I decided to head home I got cocky and bravely set forth onto my route without double checking on a map. I got lost three times. A simple trip to the library which google maps said would take 20 mins, in fact took me 3 hours.

So, my readers who have stumbled upon this because they were mislead by the relevant pop culture references in my photos, when you make the decision to up and move to a completely different province or state, just go ahead and do it. Why not? Act a little crazy, make big changes, just make sure you bring a compass. And some RAID.

I apologize for the extreme time between my last post and this one. I have been extremely busy hoarding cardboard boxes, watching Duck Dynasty, and spending hours at Walmart. For some reason, every time I get paid, all I wanna do is go to Walmart. I wanna buy $1 candles, cheap ass DVDs, crayons, and hoard cleaning products. Oh lord, I love me some wally world. The irony of hoarding cleaning products is that I only clean when I'm mad. Which is rare. So right now there's piles of books everywhere, half packed cardboard boxes in the kitchen. An entire corner of the kitchen is so filled with empty cans, I can't remember if I put bags there first. I come home every day from work and think, tonight I will clean. And then I set reminders for My Crazy Obsession and suddenly my pants fall off, a cigarette lights itself, and my butt gets stuck to the couch.
It's a tough life.

Anyway, these past two months I've become addicted to reading dystopian fiction. It started with The Hunger Games, and hasn't stopped. And it got me to thinking about what I would do if the world turned upside down. I think of myself as a free, independent thinker who can live quite happily without a phone or internet. But if North Korea's rocket gets set off and crashes "randomly" in the U.S., or Iran gets cocky with their "experiments" I will truly be fucked. And if I do happen to survive past the first few days while my body goes through extreme withdrawal from energy drinks, I will not last much longer. I cannot hunt, I cannot tell which plants are edible and which will kill me in an instant. I will eat only grass. I cannot defend myself in any way, and my dog is just as useless.

I think back to the time Mitch, Tim, Erika, and I had to run for our lives from a pack of rowdy wolves. We had to run for like 2 minutes straight, hop in the jeep, and get the fuck out of there. But after a minute of running I honestly thought FUCK IT. LET THESE WOLVES TEAR ME TO PIECES AS LONG AS I DON'T HAVE TO RUN ANYMORE. The only thing that kept me going was the fact that no one knew Tony's favorite dog treats, and Mitch wouldn't know where I put anything in our apartment. Also I had to pee.

If I can't even run from real danger, like the threat of a wolf ripping my arm off and eating it, how on earth will I survive if a dystopian society ever came about.

All these books I've been reading have these strong female leads, who consider themselves weak until faced with danger in which they become strong enough to fight off three communists at once, and leap from building to building. Honestly, I was exhausted just reading the books.

Last night I watched Piers Morgan and learned of the captain who went nuts and ran around the plane screaming about Iraq and bombs. 7 passengers took him the fuck down and the co-pilot made an emergency landing. Oprah asked me if I thought, in a situation like that, that I would be one of the people who would take down the danger and save lives. The answer is no. I would be the one either reading a book and oblivious to everything happening, or convinced I was already dead and was figuring out where I hid Tony's birth certificate and who I should call about it.

Basically I have come to the conclusion, that much like black men in horror movies, I will die first in any situation.

Anyway, I have a horrible headache, and should go clean.

....hahahahahahahahaha. yeah right.

As a paranoid parrot, I sometimes question my interest in everything paranormal. Or perhaps by being a paranoid parrot I am simply more aware of the horrors in this world. And by horrors I mean the Cloverfield monster and possible alien attacks. Sometimes I'm sure the creators of paranoid parrot in fact fashioned the entire meme after me. I remember two summers ago when Mary and I were drinking in our special spot downtown when we witnessed an explosion and all the lights downtown went out. I braced myself for the statue of liberty head to come falling to the ground. Then I realized I was in Calgary, and waited for the top of the Calgary Tower to come flying out of nowhere. When that didn't happen I texted everyone I knew and warned them of a possible Cloverfield attack and then called my mom to tell her goodbye.

Turns out it was just an electricity box that blew.

And then when the same thing happened in Edmonton a few months ago. I instantly thought WHY DO I NOT OWN A VIDEO CAMERA?! And, STAY AWAY FROM THE UNDERGROUND TRAIN STATIONS.

Turns out, that was also just an electricity box.

I curse my parents for encouraging an over active imagination in an only child who always lived in big dark basements. And then allowing me at the age of 11 to go off and watch whatever horror movie I pleased. And also for making me watch Birds at 9 years old, forever encasing me in a phobia of all birds, mostly crows, and for letting me go over to my much more mature friend's house at 6 and view Jaws for the first time. THAT BLOOD LOOKED SO REAL. I didn't step into a swimming pool after that until age 12. (For some reason I thought sharks could live quite comfortable in chlorinated water). Hence why I cannot swim.

Today I had an extremely amazing conversation with my coworker who told me some horrifying ghost stories from her past. I got goosebumps. I also realized when I get truly scared I turn into a southern black woman and start praisin' jesus and fanning myself. I also get very loud and yell in a southern accent. Where this came from I do not know.

Perhaps in my past life I was a black woman with a dramatic flare. Actually, once I did a test online and it turned out in my past life I was a black man who was a warrior and a leader. So basically, I'm the wrong color. And you should always believe everything you read on the internet.

Now I'm watching Paranormal Activity 3 and trying to contain my OH LORD's and AMEN JESUS. At least I'm alone. Although that may not work out in my favor if there is indeed a demonic spirit lurking under my kitchen sink. Good thing I have salt water in a glass chillin near by. (This is actually for Tony's eye infection. But it's good to know I'm prepared.)

One last thought before I sign off and double check the door's locked;
Mitch and I broke out of our usual routine of either Denny's or Boston Pizza on the weekend and went to Moxie's. I found a Kid's menu lying under the table and was very disheartened to find that every meal on that menu seemed better than the actual adult menu. So I came up with a brilliant idea. An Adult Kid's menu for the plain eaters of the world. All you would have to do is mention quietly, so as not to embarrass your dining party (although I probably just embarrassed you by using the phrase 'dining party'),

HOLY SHIT PRAISE JESUS

....sorry...I just jumped out of my skin at this fucking movie. FUCK.

....anyway, where was I...so yeah, you'd ask for your adult kid's menu and sit comfortably down in those cramped booths where they seat 4 but decide to cram all 6 of you in there anyway. While your friends debated between food that doesn't even sound real and foreign spicy food you can't even pronounce, you can browse your adult kid's menu. What would be offered you ask? Exactly what's on the kids menu; grilled cheese, chicken fingers, a smiley face cheese pizza. Only it would be adult portions and prices. IT'S GENIUS.

Plain eaters of the world unite and demand an adult kid's menu. Actually, funny story; my parents had to ask for me to eat off the kid's menu until I was about the age of 14. When I got to be the lovely age of 14, waiters would start to say "We only serve up to 12 year olds on the kids menu" and then my parents would have to calmly explain I was a "picky" eater and would be more than willing to pay adult prices for the kid's meals.

Why does no one do this for me anymore?

Anyway, I was supposed to organize all my books tonight and put the one's up I don't want for sale. Then I started watching this movie. And now I'm too scared to go into the dark corner where I hoard my books. So look forward to my next blog hopefully being books for sale that you can buy from me (or trade) for extremely cheap as long as you come get them because I am a paranoid parrot and do not drive.

Goodnight ya'll....

....HOLY SHIT GOOD LORD JESUS.....seriously...fuck...watch this movie.

As a socially awkward penguin I seem to have chosen the most ironic job; a secretary. I work at a tool repair shop. There's four of us, three on a daily basis, and a dog. Which works well for the fact that I can't make friends. Now don't go ahead and throw me a pity party. I'm well aware it is my own fault. My choice of topics for conversations include books, dogs, and supernatural. Sometimes I like to complain about the weather. And when I'm really feeling friendly I'll discuss the top news topics with you, easily referencing my 4 different news apps I have on my phone. Come at me bro! I am a CNN junkie.

Unfortunately the two people I work with every day have nothing in common with me. My co-secretary is a mom of two who doesn't have internet and is very concerned about the bad ingredients of the energy drinks I pound back all day. My boss is an older man who swears a lot and basically says, "Hey," "Do this for me," and "See you tomorrow."

So needless to say, we run out of topics at about 9:30 am.

The plus side of my job is getting to wear jeans and a t-shirt every day. Which comes in handy since at the age of 22 I have blossomed my closet into one a mom would be jealous of. I'm not joking. 80% of my clothes come from Walmart or Winners. The other 20% is from Mitch's Mom buying me things. She has better taste than I do. And I'm not sure where this horrible taste in clothes came from. I literally walk past a mirror and think WHO IS THIS WOMAN? DOES SHE KNOW HER CLOTHES DON'T MATCH? Then I realize I'm yelling at myself. When I was younger I was convinced I had a flawless sense of style. But I was also drinking a lot. So I'm thinking I had beer goggles on for myself. Putting make up on is like cleaning the dishes, and shopping for new clothes is like taking out the garbage. Luckily I make up for it in my flawless sense of wit.

The sad part of it is, even moms dress cooler than I do now. It ain't the 90's no more.

Anyway, the point of all of this was me being socially awkward and working as a secretary. My job consists of talking to people in person and on the phone. Let me give you a few examples of my smooth talking;

"Good Morning, Charlotte Tools, Comax Speaking"

"Hey Charlotte, how are you doing?"
"How are you doing?"
"Great....and you?"
"How can I help you?"

"Thanks so much for helping."
"See you later."
".....Goodbye"

"err.....errr....ummmm......can I put you on hold?" -hang up-

In person I am even worse. I know nothing about tools. I know nothing about human interaction except for when it comes to my boyfriend and my dog (who is not even a human).
But I do love my job. And I'm happy to be working again and not sitting on my ass all day dancing with Ellen, yelling at Dr. Phil, googling cancer with Dr. Oz, and then crying during Anderson. Although, I do miss my day time TV. Now all I can do is watch Supernatural. Ugh I know, I should start getting paid for every time I drop "Supernatural".

Mitch is taking a nap. Tony's sleeping on towels on our bed because it is very muddy and wet outside. It's still snowing. I just made so much mash potato it would blow your mind. And now I need a power nap. Being plain and boring is exhausting.

When asked who I am most like, I often refer to Liz Lemon from 30 Rock. In fact, Tina Fey in general is practically my doppelganger. I was going to write a biography called Boringpants but Tina Fey beat me to the punch. Liz Lemon, like myself, cares more about food than people, makes potato chip sandwiches, and is very comfortable wearing swim wear when it's laundry day. She idolizes Oprah, and I strongly agree in anything Oprah says, Oprah is always right. I may be the only 22 year old who reads O Magazine monthly, absorbing the articles on weight loss for middle aged women. Tina Fey, like myself, grew up awkward and alone, only to turn it all around and become a very successful writer and comedian. That last part obviously does not apply to my life, as I am still very awkward, and consider my only accomplishment becoming slightly popular on tumblr. Tina Fey enjoys children and doesn't care for dogs, this may be our only difference. I despise children and treat dogs like babies. But other than that, it's flawless. So instead of boring you with the biography of my life, I strongly suggest you buy Tina Fey's book Bossypants and read the first 5 chapters.

I am also a lot like Karl from An Idiot Abroad. I watch that show and think, you know what, Karl's just misunderstood. Traveling as a plain eater, and a socially inept penguin, is a horrible feat. I was fortunate enough to grow up as a military brat and travel the world. I have visited many different places that once people find that about me, beg me to tell them wonderful travel stories. Unfortunately I have none. I visited Austria and ate schnitzel with noodles 7 nights in a row. I visited Cape Cod and saw Bill Clinton from a distance and ate chicken strips and french fries every night for two weeks. When living in Germany I went to a theme park where I understood nothing and went on the Never Ending Story ride 4 times in a row because I didn't know how to get off. I had a very warm vacation in Waikiki where I indulged every day in reading and eating BLT sandwiches, which I took the tomatoes out of. I swam in the ocean once (I have a fear of sand) and climbed a volcano. Unfortunately by the time I got to the top I couldn't even take in the view because I was having a panic attack over how high up I was. In Switzerland I tripped over a cow grate (it's meant for stopping cows from leaving the field, also for stopping 10 year old girls from walking in general) and cut open my knee, ruining the entire trip.

Now don't get all high and mighty and judgmental on me. Claiming I am a spoiled brat and I take advantage of the fact that I have traveled. You are wrong, I do enjoy traveling, I just enjoy doing it under my own agenda. Japan? No thanks, I would starve. And crowds make me nervous. Mexico? I don't think so, I don't want to get murdered and/or food poisoning. New Zealand? Maybe, because I would want to simply walk into Mordor.

I am not some ignorant white girl, I am just a boring, plain eater, and boring, plain eaters do not enjoy cultures that condone spicy food and raw fish. I like to blame my plain eating on my own culture, which is the good old United Kingdom. When I go back to England I am in my comfort zone. You can go into any restaurant and be guaranteed that 80% of the menu is made up of butter, salt, or potatoes. All of our food is bland and plain. Smoking is accepted as second nature. And the drinking age is more like a competition for how young you can get your child to drink (my parents were very disappointed that I didn't touch a drop of alcohol until I turned 18).

Anyway, today is Sunday, and I have accomplished watching Supernatural episodes, playing with my new markers, and unsuccessfully trying to find a way to watch Friday the 13th for free online. I hope your Sunday is much more eventful than mine, and that you can go away from this blog understanding a little more about the trials and tribulations of a plain eater, and haven't deleted this blog from your favorites.

WELCOME

Well, the time has come blogger world for me to blog publicly once more. I have spent the past two years blogging in the privacy of my exclusive livejournal account, I even had the page set up so everyone who came for a visit was accosted with a LOCKED "friends only" entry. I was blogging like a hipster with no one stopping me. Of course, with the illusion of the "locked" journal comes the idea that my blog is so cool that I only let certain people see it. Unfortunately I only had 4 friends. One of which was my own photography journal. Therefore I have low expectations of the popularity of this now public blog. If no one thought I was cool enough to try and be added to my bad ass "locked" journal, I doubt anyone will read this one. Even if it is public. It's like offering free food, but the food is moldy cheese. A few homeless people will stop by if they're drunk enough and take a bite.
And then sue you for food poisoning.

My new blog will be filled with, as the title states, "The adventures and travels of a plain eater". I like to pretend the plain eater comment is a metaphor for my own plain life. But really it's a stolen idea from my friend Alex. And I am not cool enough for my own metaphor. If you have ventured onto this journal under the daft illusion that you will read a super cool travel blog where I post artsy photos of interesting Australian people. You are wrong. Or if you assume by my other title that this is a cooking blog where I post cute recipes for cupcakes with owl faces on them, you are wrong. I am a plain, boring person who will post a disturbing amount of pictures of my dog. I will share the woes of a plain eater who's condiments consist of salt and butter, who hangs out with cool people who actually like eating sushi and think bubble tea is tasty.

Are you hooked yet?

Perhaps you will also enjoy my posts of all the embarrassing things I accomplish on a daily basis (I have gotten into the shower with my underwear on more than once....this month) or my rants on the paranormal. I strongly believe in keeping a vast amount of salt in your home, not only for flavoring, but for protecting yourself from demons. And the smell of sulfur only tells me one thing; there has been a demon in your home, and you must go get your salt. You may also relate to my exciting daily adventures like today where I purchased a set of 32 markers that came with a free sketchpad and 4 EXTRA markers that are smelly.

I have two best friends, one being my dog. Who currently hates me because I put him on a diet and today took vengeance upon me by taking a dump and getting it stuck in his fur. I had to scrape it off with a stick. My second best friend is an opinionated, beer loving woman who puts up with nobodies shit and talks to me for 5 hours on the phone about ghosts. I nicknamed her Oprah, not because she is fat and black (she is neither) but because I like to state, "Oh, excuse me, Oprah is calling, I have to take this." So far, no one has fallen for it.

I have a boyfriend who is far cooler than I could ever hope to be, and who lives with me and our dog. It was beard at first sight. (I was the one with the beard) He has many cool friends who we hang out with every weekend and recently all took a road trip with. I always dreamed of taking a road trip with friends, but since I've only ever had one (excluding my dog), the occasion has never come to be. There's Jad, or Jab, or Chad, whichever you prefer, who has 12 Omar's in his contact list. Then there's Alex who is the brain child behind this blog and runs his own company. Amanda, who makes cute iphone cases and has an impeccable taste in fashion. And Ashley who I hung out with today while she wore nothing but a t-shirt and panties. Now, by this point, I bet you're wishing that any of those people were writing this blog, as they have far cooler lives than I do, but unfortunately you found mine.

So welcome to SALT AND BUTTER, adventures and travels of a plain eater. If you have made it this far, I congratulate you. And I ask to bare with me as I live my extremely boring life, drink an obnoxious amount of energy drinks, and scrape poop off of my dog's ass.

-Charlotte