No second billing 'cause you're a star now oh Cinderella they're all sluts like you

spec-ta-cle

[spek-tuh-kuhl]

-Idiom

1. make a spectacle of oneself, to call attention to one's unseemly behaviour; behave badly or foolishly in public: They tell me I made a spectacle of myself at the party last night.

2. this season of The Bachelorette.

Ugh. Bowlegged, airheaded, personality-deficient twit.

Ok, yah, I watch it. I'm one of those people you make fun of for wasting 2 hours of precious living time each week watching some dumbass woman claim she is looking to find her husband (a.k.a. "soulmate", a.k.a. "yin to my yang", a.k.a. "love of my life", "Prince Charming", or other such drivel) among 25 or so perfect strangers, whilst going on dates in perfectly mundane settings such as Thailand, or Bali, or Belize, often in group settings (awkward, anyone?), while engaging in such activities as helicopter rides, tight-rope-walking to picnics, or elephant Safari rides.

Oh, and did I mention the goal is to sucker the last sap standing into proposing after, like, 2 months of knowing her?

Right.

I want to see a "real" version of this show. Some guy picks her up in his Honda Civic, takes her to dinner at Olive Garden (bleuch) where there is that awkward moment when the waiter brings the bill and she makes the mandatory show of reaching for her handbag to make it look like she's willing to pay (but she's really not), then go for a walk near the river, while trying to ignore the smell coming from various mushroom plants and meat packing facilities nearby, and with him wishing he knew her well enough to feel comfortable to tell her she has a huge piece of spinach stuck in her teeth, and her trying to figure out why he hasn't kissed her yet. Then there's the drive home in awkward silence, both of them talking about their plans for the weekend ahead (embellished, so the other knows how cool and in demand the other is), and ending with a vague "I'll call you this weekend" (which really means a text message, sometime on Monday evening, that reads: "sry didnt call u this wkd supr busy wit frenz. u feel like movie l8r?") ...and so on ad infinitum. You get the picture.

Boring? Hell yes. Realistic? You betcha. This couple will probably end up dating and breaking up at least 3 times over the course of a year or so, have a pregnancy scare or two, and finally get engaged after realizing this is about as good as it's gonna get.

Reality t.v. at its finest. I'll even volunteer to be the first Bachelorette. Watch out everyone, my Prince Charming is out there!

... cue gagging noises...

*Celebrity Skin - Hole*

Yah pass that bottle around got the rock from Detroit soul from Motown the underground stoned f*cking pimp we trash the mack and slap back the wack

Just dragged my ass in from the pool...

Did I mention I was drinking beer by said pool? Guess not, as I just started this post.

Guess what beer in the sun does to your brain? In my case it appears to have pickled it to a nice fuzzy consistency. Am I making any sense at all? No... but due to aforementioned fuzzy-pickle brain, who cares?

So I'm seeing a pattern emerging in my posts, that being that I am an approximately-once-a-month blogger. You may think this is due to my fascinating, fast-paced, glamourous (Canadian spelling) life. It's not. I'm just that lazy. That, and nothing that exciting really seems to happen to me.

I was at the beach with one of my best friends -JG- yesterday. And as the norm, the conversation came around to relationships, and sadly, my lack thereof. I have gone through my fiercely independent stage, my lonely stage, my short-lived "I have a vibrator, who the fuck needs a man?" stage. and am currently in my "what is wrong with me?" stage? JG's opinion is that I may be too focused on looks, and that there is a possibility that I am overlooking great guys who may not be so great looking, and maybe I need to give these other guys a chance. I realize that what she says has a distinct ring of truth to it, and wonder how I got like this. I mean, I'm not exactly a supermodel myself, but I fully admit that I won't look twice at a guy if I don't find him wildly attractive on first meeting. And I know full well that I am not the only woman out there like this. It makes me wonder why it is that average women will not deem a man worthy of their time unless he is gorgeous? And why are we not looking at things like "is he a good person?", "does he still feel the need to go on all-weekend benders with his high school buddies he still hangs out with?", and so on.

Holy fuck this is way too SATC Carrie Bradshaw sitting at her laptop in front of an open window for my barley-soaked brain right now.

I need a Slurpee...

*American Badass - Kid Rock*

Don't pretend I think you know I'm damned precious and hell yah I'm the mother f***ing princess I can tell you like me too and you know I'm right

So. Been a while. Miss me?

Whatever. You did so.

You will all be so happy to know I survived my now 10-year-old daughter's sleepover birthday party. I say "survived" because, as anyone who has been in the company of 5 pre-teen girls at a given time knows, you have to be pretty savvy in order to see the sun rise again. Some of the highlights...

1. "Whatever". Apparently this is the word if you're an adolescent girl. It became only slightly annoying after the thousandth time I heard it.

2. Hot pink nail polish spilled all over my living room carpet after a lapse in judgement led me to allow each girl to do her own mani/pedi. This, in spite of an old queen sized sheet and a lengthy admonishment to all of the girls to "BE VERY CAREFUL". Famous last words. Did you know nail polish remover does not remove nail polish from beige carpet?

3. Listened to the girls discussing classmates "boyfriends", and "some girl who trash talks me because she thinks I made out with her boyfriend". ?!?!?!?!? They're 10!!! OMG, it was like listening to me and the girls, minus the martinis. I needed a drink after that...

*editor's note: did not have a drink after that. I was responsible for children. Duh.*

4. Successfully mediated several earth shattering intellectual debates (read: petty arguments) that leads me to believe I have missed my calling as a hostage negotiator/crisis manager.

5. Cleverly sidestepped being made-over by a bunch of blue-eyeshadow-wielding, giggling girls by negotiating aforementioned mani/pedis instead. Regretted it, as per nail polish-carpet debacle.

6. Made the scientific discovery that sugar does, in fact, cause hyperactivity in children.

7. Made the scientific discovery that alcohol does, in fact. counter the hyperactivity-causing effects of sugar.

*editor's note: I'M KIDDING. GIVE ME A BREAK!*

8. Endured hours of squealing and giggling about how cute Justin Bieber is.

9. Threw up in my mouth a little as a result of #8.

10. ...and did it all without any help from my besties Ernest and Julio.

Ta-da!!!

And I get to do it all again in another year. Where's that box of wine?

*Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne*

Can we film the operation? Is the head dead yet? You know the boys in the newsroom got a running bet. Get the widow on the set we need dirty laundry

So...

Last night as I was working on a project online (read: downloading music and shoe shopping) and half listening to the t.v. (I'm one of those people that always have the t.v. on for background noise), I heard the news that Bin Laden kicked it. Now, obviously good news right? I mean, I know there are bleeding hearts out there who are all "all human life is a gift", and "everyone has an eternal soul", and blah blah blah. Clearly I'm not one of them. I tend to think Americans are pretty much gun toting, flag waving, gum flapping fanaticals, but I do think they hit the nail on the head with capitol punishment, which we unfortunately do not have in Canada. I believe the punishment should fit the crime - you off someone, you should be offed yourself. I would take it one further than the U.S., though, and decree that your execution should be in the exact manner as that which you used on your victim. That might actually be a real deterrant, rather than letting criminals spend their sentences in country clubs with bars on the windows.

Whoops... I digress...

So here's where I'm confused: One of the networks claimed that the body is in the custody of the U.S., and is undergoing DNA testing to determine that it is, in fact, the body of Osama Bin Laden. Here's where I'm a little fuzzy: this man has been the most elusive fugitive on the planet for over a decade, evading capture despite the best efforts of the military. So it's all well and good that there is a body to take DNA samples from, but precisely what are they comparing to? I sincerely doubt he volunteered a blood sample at some point, just in case he died and wanted to assist in his absolute indentification. Another news station claimed that his body has been buried at sea. Really??? The U.S. government just decided to toss him overboard a navy ship just as the story broke? Sure. I have some excellent land in Florida to sell you if you believe that one.

The good thing about this story, aside from the obvious being that a terrorist is (possibly) dead (pending "DNA identification"), is it overshadowed the gong show that was the royal wedding. Now, instead of weeks and weeks of post-mortem on Kate's dress (too much lace), the Queen's hat (who cares), and William's thinning hair (seriously, he's not even 30 yet and he's bearing a startling resemblance to his dad, and no one is running out to make a calendar of him), now the world will be hearing some actual relevant news, and the people affected by the events of 9-11-01 can now perhaps get some kind of closure knowing the man who perpetrated these crimes is, in fact, dead.

We just have to get the news from a hairsprayed, overly-made-up news anchor with a shit eating grin. Oh well. I guess we can't win 'em all.

*Dirty Laundry - Don Henley*

Well you must be a girl with shoes like that she said you know me well I seen you and little Steven and Joanna round the back of my hotel oh yeah

Signs of spring in Winnipeg:

1. The overly excitable residents of this fair city go through their summer wardrobes and shorts and skirts and cropped pants begin to make their appearances. This would be all well and good, if it weren't for the lack of exfoliation and exposure to sun for an entire winter. Tip: Blindingly white skin = lost retinas.


2. Open toed shoes appear along with aforementioned shorter hemlines... ...along with the nastiest feet known to man. Not deliberately trying to make anyone vomit here, but I got on the escalator at the mall the other day, and right at eye-level with me were the crustiest, scaliest, YELLOWEST feet I have ever witnessed in my 33 years on this planet.


3. Pot holes the size of moon craters all over the city. Driving to work lately has become a combined effort to avoid the pot holes myself, and avoid the morons who swerve into my lane to avoid them. So far my poor Rico has escaped unscathed, but he's had a couple of scares.


4. Warm temperatures = open car windows = getting to eavesdrop on other people's conversations and hilarious singing while driving beside them and attempting to keep a straight face.


5. Warm temperatures = open car windows = me getting busted for my hilarious singing while driving beside other cars.


6. Geese, geese, everywhere. They're all cute and goose-like until you get too close to one and it hisses at you. (Freakiest shit I've ever seen!)


7. Not being able to go anywhere without someone talking about THE FLOOD. Now maybe I'm being insensitive here, but I live nowhere near anywhere that will see any overland water, nor do any of my friends or family members, so I'm really not all that concerned. If you are so gung-ho, rather than flap your gums about it to complete strangers, go fill a few sandbags and make yourself useful.*


8. My kid squelching around in her pink rubber boots. Does anyone else remember getting booters?


9. Not being able to leave home without allergy meds so I can actually breathe through the dust and mold. Ahhhh... Otrivin.


10. Shirtless joggers. Happy thought, only when assuming said shirtless jogger is a specimen straight off the Firefighter's calendar. Not so happy thought when said shirtless jogger is closing in on 60 with saggy man boobs.

*While do feel badly that many people will likely see flood damage to their homes in the next month, I just want to point out that when purchasing property, it is only good sense to research the area you are looking to buy in, and therefore should be aware if your future home is on a flood plain. Just pointing out the obvious.

*Chelsea Dagger - The Fratellis*

You know I've seen a lot of what the world can do and it's breaking my heart in two because I never wanna see you a sad girl don't be a bad girl

Have I mentioned what a trainwreck my personal life is? It never fails to amaze me that I can manage a very demanding career, successfully pay bills on time, have a social life, and raise my daughter singlehandedly - essentially in control (as much as anyone can be in control) of my life, and yet when it comes to making decisions about men I am about as intuitive as Pamela Anderson circa the whole Tommy Lee debacle. I have been trying to self-analyse lately, and get to the root of the problem, and I think I may have it... probably not, but what the hell, I'll test this theory. I think that I try too hard to portray the "independant woman" to everyone I meet, and insist that I need someone as independant as I am, but when it comes down to it, I am really a 1950's housewife at heart, and just want someone to make a martini for at the end of the day. Problem is, by telling everyone I don't want anything serious, I meet these guys who believe me, and are thrilled to have met a girl who isn't looking to "tie them down", and then when I get involved, and start picturing martini shakers and aprons, I realize that, once again, I have managed to meet the wrong guy.

Following me?

Didn't think so.

By trying so hard to be Wonder Woman (love the boots), I have effectively shot myself in the foot, because I'm not the tough-as-nails chick I have let everyone think I've been for the last 4 years, I'm the opposite. I'm insecure, afraid, and lately, very alone.

So now what?

Wonder Woman made it look so easy...

*Wild World - Cat Stevens*

Cause I'll be kicking the flavor that makes you wanna jump how high? Real high cause I'm just so fly

Whoops... Seem to have forgotten about this place for a bit. Ok, in the interest of getting all caught up in the least word-vomity way, here's a top 10 list of the highlights of the last 3 months so we can all move on...

1. Survived the holiday season working my 14th Christmas in retail. Barely.


2. Went to Cuba. Hated it, but loved the tan I came back with to make all my fellow Winnipeggers jealous with.


3. Got the happy news that I will be going to Cancun in June for work, hopefully getting the bad taste of Cuba out of my mouth.


4. Hooked up with my ex. Twice.


5. Immediately regretted said hookups.


6. Engaged in a lot of shopping to distract myself from aforementioned stupidity. Two words: Retail Therapy.


7. Dodged the late night booty texts from a retardedly hot 28-year-old who, in the past, has demonstrated his remarkable abilities in bed.


8. Am currently wondering why the hell I am dodging the late night booty texts from a retardedly hot 28-year-old who, in the past, has demonstrated his remarkable abilities in bed.


9. Am also shoe-shopping on line while composing this post.


10. Am thinking it's possible I may suffer from ADD.

There. All caught up. Now there's 5 minutes of your life you will never see again.

You're welcome.

*Jump - Kriss Kross*