We're moving! As you already know. I have exactly 20 days before we hit the road and a lot to accomplish in that short amount of time. 3 English assignments, 2 stupid exams, and a lot of packing to do *sung in the tune of 12 days of Christmas*. I've begun a small amount of packing: a box of summer clothes here, a box of nick nacks there.
Questions for you all: Do I seriously have to wait until two days before moving to pack kitchen stuff, winter clothes, etc etc? That'll drive me crazy, but I can't think of another way.
Actually, I can. They way our upstairs neighbours move. They've been 'moving' for 3 months now. They're moving as I write this. I can hear them. This list below is what we hear every other day (everyday sometimes if we're lucky):
-Multiple people wearing 10lbs hiking boots clomping around up there for at least 3 hours at a time.
-Dribbling of basketballs, we think.
-Floor grinding renovations that have been taking place for about 6 six weeks.
-The occasional marital dispute that heightens to vulgar language and lamp throwing, we assume.
That sounds like a way more efficient way of moving to me. You ask "How do you know they're moving if it has been going on for months on end?"
"Well," I say, "We know they are moving because we met her on a joyous elevator ride about a month ago. She was carrying a heavy box, and she stated, 'The joys of moving, eh?'. After that, the elevator got awkwardly quiet as we cursed our extremely slow ascent."
So yes, they're moving in the most prolonged and noisiest way EVER.
But seriously, where is a good place to find boxes?
I apologize, folks. I've been neglecting you. Do you feel neglected, or are you completely overwhelmed and excited that Christmas is a mere 37 days away?! You're probably excited about Christmas, which is why you should turn on your Christmas music this instant! (reread that with your best angry mother voice)
Aside from the fact that I am totally psyched about this holiday season, I have new (additional) reasons this year. Old and still extremely relevant reasons being: Jesus' birthday, same month my niece was born, wrapping all of our doors in wrapping paper (in that order). My new reason is that Ryan and I are permanently moving home right before Christmas! YAY! I know you've all missed us so incredibly much over the past 2 and a half years, but miss no more! We bought a house, Ryan has his dream job, and I am DONE school...for now. Don't worry though, I will still continue blogging regardless of my geographical location.
And now for the superhero part. Two things.
2. I'm incredibly proud of these people. I laugh hysterically at what they did but still proud. Click HERE and you'll see what I'm talking about.
Enjoy.
It's November! So, look behind you at your calendars. Change the month so that I can have peace of mind. I hate it when calendars are left months behind. Last month, I spotted my parents calendar on the wrong month while Skyping with my mother. *shutter*That's not really where I was going with this post, but I just want to be sure that you have all changed your calendars to the right month. Phew.
Recently, as in our last grocery shop, Ryan told me 'not too look at something'. Don't you hate it when people tell you 'Don't look!'. For instance: when someone is peeing on the side of the road OR when someone is wearing a polka dot patter, stripe pattern, and a floral all at the same time? I hate it. So I looked. At what? you ask. I can't remember, but that's not the point. The point is that I broke out into a 1970s pop song: "The Streak".
I shouted: "I said, 'Don't look, Ethel!...Too late. She'd already been mooned.'"
Now, those of you 40+ will probably know the song I'm referring to. Ryan did not. I shouldn't, but I do thanks to my parents collection of 70s and 80s pop hits. Anyway, he doubted me. HE did not think that the song existed; that someone would actually write a song and that it would become a hit with those lyrics. I proved him wrong, everyone. Thank you, YouTube.
Take a peek (pun intended). Click HERE.
Kick off your Sunday shoes. For me that equals heels, thanks to my overly stylish mother always challenging me to at least look good enough to be in the same room as her. And gladly will I 'kick them off'. After doing so, I'll dance.
I'm not sure if anyone has had this problem before, but I'll describe it to you in a bit of detail. Currently, it is quiet and still in our place as Ryan and I both pretend to be filling our minds with knowledge thrown at us by overdeveloped syllabuses and underrated professors, and yet, my foot will not stop keeping a beat. At this rate, I'll have cankles by Christmas. Also, I've had the same song stuck in my head for approximately 42 hours and I'm still not tired of it, nor do I quit dancing to it. And the final straw: I feel the NEED to learn a new line dance. Please, any suggestions to make it stop or at least limit it would be appreciated. I'm fairly sure our neighbours downstairs are done with the foot tapping and would show no sympathy for my swollen ankles.
Alright, I'm doing it again. You get to pick my pumpkin again this year. I've narrowed it down to 3; however, I'm definitely open for suggestions. So cast your vote on the bottom of this post or on the facebook link!
Tink! She never gets old.
Or do I tackle a NEW Disney character: Rapunzel!
You choose!
So I've been noticing lately how people have 'the best intentions', but it doesn't always work out. So let these few examples of 'The Best Intentions' be a lesson to you.
1. The Pumpkin Spice Latte.
Their best intention: For customers to feel all warm and fuzzy inside while they watch the seasons change and all the leaves disappear from the trees as a blizzard creeps in from the North to freeze them from the inside out.
The outcome: People are drinking milky gourds.
2. Charlize Theron's Red Carpet Look.
Her best intention: Draw attention away from her midsection.
The outcome: Well... I guess you could say she accomplished that with a little bit of coconut shell inspiration mixed in.
3. Wii Fit
Their best intention: Get couch potatoes to exercise right beside their favourite couches using a television and a remote control. Seems practical.
The outcome: I now have a 'perfect' golf swing while sitting sideways with my eyes closed eating popcorn.
Case closed.
For one of my History assignments this semester, we were asked to look at The Globe and Mail newspaper dated 80 prior to the week of our birthdays. This would make my specific week during March 1911 (do the math, people, I'm 20). Anyways, it got me thinking that news of TV these days is too detailed, graphic, and literally, ALL bad.
I came across the news section of March 14, 1911, where the deliverance of bad news was done in a rather matter-of-fact way, leaving the rest of the newspaper open for good news, fashion advice, advertisements about homemade cocoa, and of course, 'recipes your husband would love'. This is what it said:
Day's Accidents in Toronto
Burned to Death. Mrs. Elizabeth McArthur.
Struck by Street Cars. Mrs. E.J. Boyd and Mrs. Adair. Mr. Martin Kennedy.
Fell Down Elevator Shaft. Mr. Joseph Tait.
Fell in Lake. Mr. John Gardner.
Injured by Explosion. Mr. George H. Hargrave.
Swallowed Poison. An unknown man.
My question is: Why don't we do this now? I need recipes, people!
