Good late night friends,
Tomorrow I have an extremely important job interview which I am very excited for. But since my sleeping patterns are not normal I am awake at 1:30 am and embracing it. I am just accepting that I will be tired as balls tomorrow when I have to wake up early. But that's what makeup and energy drinks are for. For some crazy ass reason I am also currently watching Paranormal Activity 4. That's right. #4 and counting. I love when horror movie franchises refuse to give up. Except Texas Chainsaw because I recently read an article and found out they have been given a shit tone of money to make SEVEN MORE SEQUELS. But not to the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or the terrifying remake. But the abomination that is Texas Chainsaw (we are too cool for a massacre). RAAAAGGEEEEEEE on you texas chainsaw, RAGE ON YOU. Of course, if it were up to me I would take all that money and make 5 more Final Destination movies and 2 more Scream movies. Which is why I don't make those decisions. NO WAIT...5 more FD movies, 1 more Paranormal Activity, and 1 Scream......I need to put more thought into this. Maybe if I spread the budget thinner.....

Anyway, I am watching Paranormal Activity 4 alone (well, Tony's here) at 1:30 am and being brave and not screaming and/or crying and/or peeing a little bit. But I'm only 11 minutes in. So...ya know. I'll get back to you on that one. But the creepy kid in this film is really cute. The evil ones always are. Damien from The Omen? Adorable, psychotic, the antichrist, whatever. Aiden from The Ring; kind of a freak, but super adorbs with the big old bags under his eyes. Gage from Pet Sematary; little blonde knife wielding possessed psycho. But those baby blues!

I believe our apartment is haunted. When I first moved in the faucet turned on by itself, which I learned a long time ago is actually physically impossible from a plumbing standpoint. And the other night Mitch said I woke him up at 5:30 am by getting out of bed. WHICH I DID NOT. So something else was moving on the bed that woke him up. And it wasn't Tony, because he barely moves the bed when he rolls around since he is like 10 pounds. (Also he sleeps on my feet and sometimes tries to sleep on my chest and smother me) Freaaaakkkkyyyyy. But also exciiiiiiting. I tried to do a little research on our place but all I could find was that it was built in 1984. Bummer. BUT...that gives us a long time for some spooooooooky deaths to have happened.

Also I smell sulfur right now......so demons? And there's weird noises coming out from our heating vent.....

Waaaaahhhh Paranormal Activity 4 is scarrriiinnggg meeee. I can't not say this movie title without saying it really quickly in my head but drawing out the fourrrrrrr. Just like I can't say The Final Destination without emphasizing the "THE".
I'm turning it off. I am not as brave as I like to think. Which is not brave at all.

So in other news, Oprah and I are going to start writing screen plays, most likely in the horror genre, and harass people until they buy them. I wrote a screen play when I was like 12 which was basically a rip off of Halloween and Scream. I forced my friends to act in it and covered everyone in fake blood which was made out of that nesquik strawberry milk syrup. Basically what I'm telling you is I'm already a pro and to expect a new horror movie franchise with 10 movies in it coming to a theater near you.

We've also decided (because Oprah and I are geniuses) that if I were to ever have a child we would raise it to believe that we had survived a zombie apocalypse before it was born. We would piece together news footage from various zombie films and pretend it was real news footage that we had saved. We would take random photoshoots of us during said apocalypse and keep an old iphone filled with the photos to use as proof. And we would sit around our fireplace and drink brandy and gaze off into the distance and tell my made up child war stories of the apocalypse. It's genius. And then when the child grows old enough to realize we made it all up and The Walking Dead is a comic book not a real life story in which Oprah and I starred, I would pay for it's therapy 'till the day I died.
This is why I will never have children. And why I will not be allowed to babysit Oprah's children until they are at least 6.

Now, in this scenario, Oprah and I are not lesbians as it seems above, now that I re-read it. In that scenario we are actually those people in horror movies who know everything about everything and we constantly have people banging on our doors at 3 am during thunderstorms asking us to help them with demon possessions and ghostly hauntings.

Let me paint a picture for you....
Cut to a stormy night, lets say it's a Tuesday, the clock strikes 3 am, the booms echoing through the halls of the manor where Oprah and Charlotte dwell. A woman rushes towards the door,  her thin figure illuminated by the lightning that slashes the sky. She knocks rapidly, her eyes frantic. Oprah and Charlotte awake, meeting in the hallway outside their rooms. Both hurriedly pull on robes and dash to the door.
"I need your help!" The woman cries. Charlotte and Oprah step away from the door as the woman rushes inside, drenched and shivering. The two girls beckon her into their study which is lit with the warm glow from the fireplace. The room is filled with books and strange items like possessed mirrors and shrunken heads. The woman collapses onto the sofa and weaves her tale of her haunting. A ghost is stalking her, causing her pain and fear. She must get rid of it or she will be killed. The two girls nod, listen carefully, and then dig through their books, their brows furrowed.
"We have what you need." Oprah whispers, leaning over her book. Charlotte sips from her glass of brandy and speaks, "You must burn wormwood under a full moon on a Friday at midnight on top of the grave of the man that haunts you and speak aloud this incantation." She hands over a piece of folded paper which the woman greatly accepts. The two girls show the woman the door, wishing her luck. Thunder booms and the rain picks up as Oprah and Charlotte head back upstairs to their rooms. Just another day in the life of a paranormal genius.
/end scene.

We would have no other jobs because we are super intelligent (in the paranormal) and are obviously too busy raising my child to think we survived a zombie apocalypse. But we would also be married to our handsome boyfriends who have normal jobs and know nothing of what we do.
Clearly Oprah and I have too much time on our hands and/or are clearly creative geniuses and need to get started right away on our screenplays.

Goodnight everyone. I'm going to watch The Office and cry because it's so awful now.

Next day edit/
So I'm almost finished ParanormalActivityFouuuuurrrr and I have to say I am wildly impressed with the horror movie references in this film. The little brother rolling around on his little tricycle like The Shining, the ball rolling down the stairs like in The Changeling. Props to you ParanormalActivityFouuuuurrrr. I'm also digging this whole use of laptop cameras, iphone cameras and what not. It's much more relevant and realistic and tbh freaky. I'm just sitting here like BITCH MOVE YOUR CAMERA LIKE 2 INCHES TO THE LEFT CAUSE I KNOW THERE'S SOMETHING THERE GUUUURL. Then she moves it. And I freak out. SO....obviously I haven't finished it but I saw a gif on tumblr that spoiled the ending so I'm going to go ahead and say I maaaay like this one the best. But the main girls best dude friend is kiiiiinda creepy. He's like "Oh whoops, I filmed you while you were sleeping." And he's lurking around her house at midnight grabbing her feet and shit. Honey, get yourself a new best friend. Me and Oprah are close, maybe too close, but I have no plans of lurking around her bedroom to scare her at 3am.....unless we lived together....in which case I would do that quite often.

Greetings Humans,
So I have a bath tub now. The past two places I have lived have been absent of said luxury and the place before that had water temperature issues so having a bath either meant freezing to death or boiling like a fresh lobster. I spent two years using my mom's bath tub every time I visited her in Calgary, and my mother in laws whenever I got the chance. I was that homeless friend couch surfing. Only I bath surfed...
Since moving in here I have managed to only have two showers, and a multitude of wonderful baths. But I have forgotten the trials and tribulations that come along with the owning of a bath tub. You take a risk every time you run that water. Especially if you forget to do a quick wipe down of the tub before you fill it up. Then you panic when you get in because you're not sure who's hair is floating in the water.
Although I have to say that I don't think hair in the tub will EVER phase me again after I spent an hour unclogging our drain filled with the old tenants hair. I could've made a beautiful blonde wig. I also found a twig down there and a lot of tape. No judgement. Just kinda wishing they'd cleaned it out before we moved in.....
But it's also so hard to find that perfect temperature. And you can't really judge it until your entire body is enveloped. And then it is too late and you have to suck it up. But bath time is a huge commitment for me. I set up a new podcast, I light some candles, get comfy. Then BOOM...the water is barely hot and after ten minutes you're shivering and shaving your legs so fast it could be an Olympic sport. It's devastating. But it's also a risk you're willing to take to have that perfect bath. Because every now and then you'll end up with THE PERFECT BATH. And nothing else matters, and nothing hurts etc etc. I feel like Demi Moore in The Scarlet Letter. I have no regrets. It's the simple things in life.

I've also started drinking coffee. The main reason being I cannot afford my beloved energy drinks anymore and coffee is basically free. But this is also something that is all about trial and tribulation. I haven't found my sweet spot yet. Each cup is either too bitter or too sweet or I didn't put enough coffee in the machine. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm also not used to drinking hot liquids as I have always been quite opposed to them. I have a tendency to leave my coffee alone for too long, come back, and get a mouthful of cold liquid...which I always spit back into the cup. Which then ruins the coffee. But I drink it anyway because I am poor and refuse to waste it. Or I have to reheat the cup like 5 times while drinking one cup of coffee.

I know, my life is really hard. I bet you read this and just wipe your brow thinking I am SO glad this is not my life. This poor girl has to spend her days dealing with cold coffee and baths.

Mitch and I debated today over Tony's superhero name. I believe it should be Tony Stark and he would be Irondog. Mitch thinks he should be Poop Dog and have a sidekick named Fart Dog. I'm going with Tony Stark. Because how can you not? But now I have this overwhelming need to make our dog a superhero cape. I might have to re-think our Halloween costumes for this year. I was going to be Lori Grimes, Tony would be Carl Grimes....I would get him a little dog sized cop hat...I'd stuff a pillow up my shirt, cover myself in fake blood, and act more hysterical than usual.....
Could you imagine if I actually made Tony a superhero cape and took him to the dog park down the road. No dog would EVER fuck with him. Or he would be thrown into a garbage can by the cool dogs. Either or. Just throwing that out there.

Tonight we are hosting a house warming party to let everyone know (even though they already know) WE'VE MOVED IN. I always think house warming parties are hilarious. Please come over and see my home and my things and be jealous because I have Hobbit action figures and a cute dog. House warming parties are just an excuse for you and your friends to get drunk in a new environment. Of course, everyone invited are actually Mitch's friends, since I still haven't found that sweet spot of being able to make and keep friends. My Dad suggested I invite the UPS guy who came to our home three days in a row delivering amazon packages and showed me pictures of his dog. Or the old woman who lives upstairs and cornered me in the laundry room to tell me all about my neighbors and her cat. I thought about it. I really did. But instead it will be me standing awkwardly in places around our house "casually" leaning against counters and walls and wandering if anyone has seen the newest episode of The Guild and whether I could sneak away to read my book for ten minutes.
Jokes aside, I'm sure tonight will be fun. And I should really be cleaning this place up TO IMPRESS PEOPLE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~~

Also I have to go buy snacks for our guests which probably won't get eaten because isn't it always awkward to eat snacks at parties? The food lay out is always completely avoided and I have no idea why. Eating in public is weiiiiird. So here's to hoping I have a tone of chips left over to stuff my face with tomorrow. 

Farewell.

Since I lost my job and could not find it ever again, I have become somewhat of a night owl. As in...my day is usually 12pm - 3am. I am far more productive in the hours after midnight and I have no idea why, but I've been embracing it. But the past two days I have been up very early. And by very early, I clearly mean 10/11am. It's like a whole new world for me. Today the Shaw guy came to hook us up with the sweet sweet internet and therefore I had to awake. Unfortunately for the Shaw guy, when he went back to his car to get his tools, I had fallen back asleep. I was not much help. But after he left I decided to start my day. I was excited because now I could job hunt from the comfort of my own couch while drinking awful home made ice coffee and not wearing pants. And after a few hours of doing that I stretched and thought to myself, welp...time to get dinner started. JUST KIDDING. It's only 2:30pm. ALRIGHT! Waking up early makes me feel like I have SO much more time. Crazy. So obviously with all this extra time I am blogging and watching the Chris Hardwick comedy central special; Mandroid.

The thing I've found most about job hunting is that you get reallllll sick of talking about yourself. I mean, how many god damn cover letters can you really write with enthusiasm. And who even reads cover letters? When I used to accept resumes I would ignore the cover letters, browse the previous jobs, and then base it on whether they could work weekends or not. Once I actually received a resume from what appeared to be a 12 year old girl who's only job experience was "professional blogging." I was so intrigued I almost brought her in for an interview. Does this count as professional blogging? I mean, I'm pretty damn professional about it. And what is a 12 year old blogging about?

Dear blog,
Today I am going to review the new episode of MY LITTLE PONY! I was so happy to watch it and I really liked the pink one that smelt like strawberries. It was sad when the ponies got scared and stuff happened but then they were all happy at the end!!~~~ I give it 5 pony tails out of 5 pony tails. Tune in next week when I review MADAGASCAR 10. Also I will have a youtube channel soon where I will post videos of my Bratz collection.

Haha, who am I kidding? 12 year olds nowadays drink more than I do and have experimented with at least two hallucinogenic drugs. They're also lazy as shit and can't spell. Seriously, it drives me insane. I had a girl ask me to read her Walking Dead fan fiction the other day and I obliged. She's like 14, I didn't want to hurt her feelings. BUT GOOD LORD GIRL. You are typing this story ON A COMPUTER. Where spell check is in abundance. I mean seriously, you get spell checked on facebook nowadays. Yet this story was filled with half finished sentences, a multitude of misspelled words, and it made absolutely no sense. I couldn't even begin to explain to her what I really thought. I had to decline the request to edit and just move on with my life.

I could write a 1000 page essay on what's wrong with the younger generation but then I would just be a grumpy old woman and everyone on tumblr would hate me.

Anyway, I'm incredibly happy to have internet in my home. I wish I could just hug the router and cry and tell it I love it and I missed it. I am the internets' overly attached girlfriend. And I don't want it to leave me ever again. Or I will KILL MYSELF.

Just kidding.

You know what I'm getting really tired of? People who use their status updates as confirmation of what to do with EVERY ASPECT OF THEIR LIVES.
"Who thinks I should dye my hair red?"
"Like this status if you think I should get a puppy?"
"Should I quit my job? If my boss is on here don't read this LOL"
"I'm thinking of getting a tattoo of an elephant mounting a lion on my chest. Good idea?"
What happened to the good old days when every decision you made was made on your own, and in your mind. Should I wear jeans today? I have no idea, probably should make a status about it and see what my 500 friends, most of whom I've only met once, think about this.
And the worst part...is the people who comment. STOP IT. YOU ARE ENCOURAGING BAD, ANNOYING BEHAVIOR.
"Hey Sally, I really think you should get a tattoo of an elephant mounting a lion on your chest, sounds really unique and it's a great idea! You'll never regret it."
STOP IT.
I feel like by the end of 2013 people will be posting everything on facebook from statuses asking whether they should take a poop, to photos of their vaginas asking 'is this normal?'

Today I also discovered a youtube channel that has all the music from The Hobbit. And the reason I was searching for this was because the other night I had a very fun dream where Oprah and I cosplayed as hobbits and ran through the wilderness in Newfoundland yelling "WE'RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE". And we frolicked and our backpacks were filled with goodies and frying pans that clanged together. It was wonderful. We discovered a man who was also cosplaying but as a dwarf and he joined us on this journey which ended up in an aquarium where squids and octopuses floated in the air instead of in the ocean. But that part doesn't matter. What matters is I woke up extremely happy and filled with joy because of my fun hobbit dream. And all I wanted to do was watch The Hobbit and run through fields and over mountains and what not. Instead, today, I found the soundtrack and listened to it while I performed my daily tasks. Such as cleaning the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, cooking lunch, job hunting etc. AND IT MADE EVERYTHING FEEL SO MUCH MORE EPIC. I felt like everything was a quest and I was completing quests left and right, making these tasks my bitch. I suggest it to everyone.

It's not even 3pm yet. I HAVE SO MUCH I CAN ACCOMPLISH! And by that I mean playing my new video game that arrived in the mail today and getting hyped up on caffeine.

Farewell.

Hellllloooooo readers and accidental clickers,
Much has happened since my last late night blog post. It is not late night right now, but early evening. And I am lurking around a coffee shop where I have been for hours, sipping the same cup of iced coffee, taking advantage of the free wifi. Mostly I've been job hunting, but also catching up on my youtube subscriptions, reddit comments, and downloading new podcasts. You know...the important things in life.
So where I left off last time was before I traveled home to Calgary to see my family/friends. I have since returned and had a great and wonderful time. Except for the plane rides both there and back which were turbulence filled and delayed and storm ridden. Thanks Alberta, for your totally schizophrenic weather. I do not miss that.

Returning home I got to have a second Christmas where I unwrapped many a joyous present from my family and gave to them my homemade gifts because I am poor. I spent the weekend with some great friends, but most importantly (just kidding...maybe) I saw THE HOBBIT FINALLLYYYYY on Monday. And I was so happy, I shed tears, and drank a lot of soda, and got the collectors cup complete with a Gandalf action figure. It was so perfect and great and everything I wanted out of that movie. My only complaint was that it was not 6 hours long. Seriously, with a little more soda and maybe some french fries, I could've easily sat there for 3 more hours in middle earth. Because, who are we kidding here, I wish I was always in Middle Earth.

I was also reunited with the female love of my life; Oprah. We stayed up till the early hours of the morning watching horror movies, drinking, chain smoking till we almost vomited, and eating potato chip sandwiches. Sometimes I get really sad that we don't live close anymore, but then I realize if we were neighbors, nothing would ever be accomplished. I mean, any time she calls, I literally drop anything I'm doing and answer. I could be delivering a baby (just go with it) and Oprah could call and I would tell that woman to push it out herself because I needed to discuss the deadliest catch with my best friend.

That's true, overly attached, friendship.

So we've moved to our new home and it is really great. Super safe, super awesome, better than any place ever. We're both very happy. And planning a house warming party. Well....Mitch is planning, I'm too busy finishing The Walking Dead Compendium 1 to notice. Also I have no friends to invite...so my end of the planning was "yes, that day sounds fine." /as I check my non existence social calender.

Tony is over the moon about our new place. We took him to see the ocean for the first time and he was delirious with excitement. Seriously. He was running around like a maniac trying to knock people off their bikes and peeing everywhere and just....Tony.

Here he is (don't let that grumpy face fool you, he always looks like that, and this was one of MANY photos I forced him to pose for. He is happy.....);

Anyway, lots of great things are happening for us in 2013. It's been really perfect so far. But I must head home and stop staring at a computer screen. Note to self; stop forgetting your glasses at home when you plan on spending 4 hours looking at your computer.

Farewell.

Happy New Year nerds!

You know what I love the most about New Years? Drunk idjits running amok. Everyone gets so excited and drinks and parties and laughs and smiles until midnight hits. Then shit hits the fan. It's like midnight is this magical button that everyone presses and all of a sudden it's like there are no rules, and everyone turns into a crazy person. I witnessed this myself with love and no judgement, just enjoyment at the party I attended. Being the only sober one there, it was incredibly hilarious to watch all of it unroll. The night started with slow drinking and hilarious conversations. The closer it got to midnight, the faster the drinks were poured, the music got louder. At midnight everyone gets incredibly happy and hugs strangers and kisses friends and enemies, they crank the music, they dance like the rebellious teens in the movie Footloose. Everyone starts tweeting about how blessed they are, how much they love everyone and everything. They instagram multiple photos of everyone looking red cheeked and blood shot. Everyone gets really serious and drunkenly tries to explain their resolutions. There's always the anarchist who claims resolutions are for idiots. And the wise guy who cracks; my resolution is to not have ANY resolutions! Then 1 am hits and if you are like me, you must now adventure onto transit to make your way home.

Transit on New Years is perhaps the GREATEST experience for a sober person to be a part of. Couples, who an hour ago were telling each other they want to be together forever, are now screaming at each other and breaking up. Everyone's clothes are disheveled, their faces pale, their breath rancid. Lonely men vomit all over themselves and are too drunk to even care that everyone is watching. You have to pick your train seat verrrrrry carefully in case of back splash. Friends cling to each other and cry. And then you get off at your stop and begin your trek home. People at train stations at 2 am are basically zombies. They wander up and down the street hoping to God that a cab will show up. They sit on the curb, head in hands, trying to remember where they left their cell phone. I just pretended I was Rick Grimes and tried very hard not to run around screaming "WALKERS" and pointing an imaginary gun at people's heads. The best part about that, if it actually happened, was that NO ONE WOULD REMEMBER.

Oh man, New Years Day is basically the hangover. And I love it.

But I did have an amazing New Years Eve and I thank our friends for being wonderful and gracious. I thank Mitch for keeping me entertained with his drunken shenanigans but not being a drunk asshole and actually being very romantic, with vomit on his shoes. I love him.

I was going to make a long post about the hilarity of men vs. women in a home setting and something about fluffy blankets...but it is 3:30 am and I have to be up in 4 hours to catch a plane home to my family and friends, and my brain is mush. I really do like fluffy blankets though.

So I hope your new year is filled with broken resolutions, weight gain, smoking habits that you quit for a week, and debt. JUST KIDDING, THAT WAS SO 2012...............

I'll show myself out.