Adults say the darndest things...

I was in the laundry room in my apartment building this afternoon moving my wet laundry into the dryers. As I was doing this, I hear a man and a young girl walking around outside. The girl,about 2 years old, pokes her head inside the door and proceeds to stare at me with her large, brown eyes. I smile and wave and say, "Hello," but she just keeps staring at me. Her father follows her inside the room and instructs, "It's okay, Grace, say 'Hello.'"

Grace continues to stare at me while I'm not quite sure what to do. I continue to move the wet clothes to the dryers while keeping an awkward eye on the two of them.

Her father urges her again. "Say 'Hello,' Grace."

Grace finally brightens up and waves at me. The father persists. "Grace, say 'Hi.' It's okay, she doesn't have a hatchet or anything."

Trying to be funny, I look up at the father and say, "At least not today."

The father looks at me and says, "Well, let us know when you have one on you," grabs Grace's hand, and turns around and walks out of the laundry room.

Note to self: Leave hatchet at home tomorrow. And insert foot into mouth.

It's not so bad...

The song "Bling (Confession Of A King)" by the Killers has been on my most-played list for a little over a year. For some reason, it just speaks to me and has helped me get through some emotional times in the past few months...it's been really inspiring and motivating to me, and I just cannot get enough of it. I pretty much listen to it to and from work every day. And every time I work out at the gym. And every time I have my iPod on or near me. Or allthetime.

...Oh, and it gets to the good part around 1:50, so just skip ahead...



When I offer you survival,
You say it's hard enough to live,
It's not so bad, it's not so bad
How do you know that you're right?

I awoke on the roadside,
In the land of the free ride,
And I can't pull it any longer,
The sun is beating down my neck

So I ran with the devil
Left a trail of excuses,
Like a stone on the water,
The elements decide my fate,
Watch it go..."bling".

When I offer you survival,
You say it's hard enough to live,
Don't tell me that it's over,
Stand up
Poor and tired,
But more than this

How do you know that you're right?
If you're not nervous anymore,
It's not so bad, it's not so bad

I feel my vision slipping in and out of focus,
But I'm pushing on for that horizon,
I'm pushing on,
Now I've got the blowing wind against my face

So you sling rocks at the rip tide,
Am I wrong or am I right?
I hit the bottom with a "huh!"
Quite strange,
I get my glory in the desert rain,
Watch it go..."bling".

When I offer you survival,
You say it's hard enough to live,
And I'll tell you when it's over,
Shut up
Poor and tired,
But more than this

How do you know that you're right?
If you're not nervous anymore,
It's not so bad, it's not so bad...

Higher and higher,
We're gonna take it,
Down to the wire,
We're gonna make it,
Out of the fire,
Higher and higher. [x2]

Higher and higher,
We're gonna take it,
Down to the wire,
We're gonna make it out,
Whoa-oh-oh Higher and higher...

It ain't hard to hold,
When it shines like gold,
You'll remember me.

Mamma Mia! Here I go again...

Last night, Kim and I saw the stage performance of "Mamma Mia!" at the Bob Carr Performing Arts Center. The performance far exceeded my expectations...the singing was amazing, the actors were great, and the dance numbers throughout and at the end were fun to watch and put me in a great mood. And it doesn't hurt that the music is uh-maze-ing!!!

The stage performance was exceedingly better than the movie, which made me cringe at several points throughout at both the cheesy acting and the not-so-great singing (but it was still totally hilarious in its absolute ridiculousness).

Some highlights of the evening:

The snorkel/flipper dance number with the boys in the purple wetsuits.
The gaysian...worth it!
Dark horse.
"Say I do!"
Sega!

"You wanna do it in my butt?"

I am utterly speechless.

"I will give you what you need. All I want is your big fat C. Give it to me, if you please. Give it to me, if you please. What, what? In the butt."

My new (old) job.

Today I accepted a part-time position back at DPI as a photographer at the Disney's Hollywood Studios. My last day at my current job is on August 22, and I start training (again) on August 24 to become a PhotoPass photographer (again). I'm excited about this new chapter in life - I have a series of goals that I would like to accomplish in the next six months, and I feel like things are finally falling into place in order for me to do so. Working part-time is definitely going to help me reach and accomplish my goals. Money will be extremely tight for me in the next few months to come, but it is a small price to pay for my happiness.

Here are my goals (so far) for the next six months:

• Remain POSITIVE!
• Completely focus and dedicate myself to being fit, healthy, and happy.
• Complete my parent's wedding album (something I've promised to do for the past two years).
• Organize/sort all of my old photos and negatives for potential use in my portfolio.
• Shoot more! This includes both personal work and/or projects as well as professional work. Essentially, build up my portfolio and incorporate some variety.
• Create a portfolio website for my work.
• Create a print portfolio of my work.
• Take digital imaging classes and/or workshops to enhance my Photoshop skills.
• Network, network, network.
• Enter at least two photography contests.
• Job shadow an event/wedding photographer at the Disney Event Group.
• Work part-time at a photography studio, or job shadow a working photographer.

I'm sure some of my goals will change, some will get thrown out, or the list might grow, but I think that this is a decent list to get stated with.

Wish me luck!

Because I'm feeling extra saucy today...

I'd like to build off of my last post "I Hate All of You" with a bit of my own frustrations.

Fuck you, Brighthouse, for charging me $44.95 a month for internet service that neverfuckingworks. Fuck you and your "service outages" that miraculously seem to coincide with my compulsive desire to check myspace. Oh, yeah, and fuck you, myspace, for reasons too obvious to state.

Fuck you, T-Mobile, for making me continually miss text messages and phone calls. Fuck you for not letting me know I have a voicemail, either.

Fuck you neighbors and your loud-ass children. Please get your daughter under control. I can hear her screaming and her violent temper tantrums through my wall every Sunday morning as you drag her to and from church. And about every other waking moment of her life. Fuck you and your stomping up and down the stairs. I understand that your children have enough energy to sustain a small third-world country, but that is no reason to allow them to run up and down the stairs repeatedly for hours upon hours. Are they building a Lego castle in the bedroom but all the pieces are downstairs, so they must fetch them one by one by running up and down the stairs? FUCK. Fuck you for blaring your TV from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep. It is really not necessary for me to hear Diane Sawyer's annoyingly chipper news segments at 6:15 for Good Morning America when you wake up every morning. Yeah, I know when you wake up. And what you watch. THAT's how loud your TV is. And, really, it's not that good of a morning, America.

I Hate All of You

I've been slightly enamored with the "Best of Craigslist" section. This is one of my favorite postings I've seen lately. I enjoy how it makes me feel so...liberated. And I especially enjoy the use of the word "fuck." Such a wonderful find!

I don't care what color you are. I don't care where you're from. I don't care what you do for a living. I don't care what class you are, how you dress, what you smoke or drink or who you know or whom you've fucked.

I hate you all. I hate every last living, breathing, snot and feces producing, promiscuously copulating, celebrity obsessed, opinionated one of you. From right here in Toronto right around the planet and back, coast to coast, nationwide and internationally. Every. Single. Last. One. Of. You.

Fuck love. Fuck your insipid grasping at some abstract concept of chemical imbalances and reasonless actions, fumbling around in the crowd trying to find some cinematic supposition for real human interaction. Fuck lust, too. Fuck you all, from the lowlife dirtbags that think dropping trou and waving the little soldier in a sloppy arc is a pick-up line to the sniveling of the desperate 'nice guys' who never get the girl due to a total lack of testosterone-grown stones. Fuck you all, from the crazy, under-dressed sluts that judge a person's character by the price of their shirt, right down to the fat, flabby chicks that think personality is enough.

Fuck you drivers, for thinking that a yellow light is a sign that says 'step on the gas'. Fuck you wheelmen and women that think it's okay to sit in a left hand turn in the middle of morning traffic, even though there is a protected left in the intersections before and after where you need to make your turn. Fuck you too, cyclists - you're not exempt from the traffic laws just because your peddling, you miserable spandex-covered, neon-reflective fucks. Fuck you too, pedestrians. Use the fucking crosswalk if you don't want to get hit, and use it before the little countdown clock says '3'. You don't have enough goddamn time to lope across four lanes of traffic.

Fuck you chick on your cellphone. Fuck you attitude packed minimum-wager that makes my coffee. Fuck you cops that spend all their time handing out speeding tickets. Fuck you douche bag doing ten over the limit in the passing lane on the highway. Fuck you lady using exact change at the counter at the grocery store. Fuck you kids having a conversation in the doorway. And fuck you also for not getting the fuck out of your designated handicapped seat when a pregnant or elderly person gets on the fucking bus.

Fuck taxes. Fuck welfare. Fuck the whole selfish, over-politicized and party-driven government system. I'm sick and fucking tired of policies and new laws with seven hundred bylaws that nobody but you and your cabinet reads. Fuck you councilors and your stupid 'district improvement' plans. Fuck you unions, for asking for so much and giving nothing more that what you already give. Fuck the whole process that allows people who are supposed to be working for us work for interests that only benefit the next campaign. Fuck your short-sightedness, your rush to the bandwagons, and your incessant arguing over fuck all. Fuck the parties, fuck the conventions, and fuck your campaigns. Do some real fucking work for a change.

Fuck you bottles of water. You're water. You're not worth two fucking dollars.

Fuck you trendsetters, fuck you fashionistas. Fuck your little dogs and and your idiotic outfits. Fuck your high heels in the snow. Fuck your five dollar coffees and your fifteen dollar veggie burgers. Fuck your health kick, your diet or your fucking new interest in kickboxing or sushi.

Fuck your culture. Fuck your race. Fuck your sense of entitlement. Fuck your sense of uniqueness. Fuck you all for the belief that you have something unique and interesting to contribute. Fuck you for filling the internet with your useless garbage. Fuck your blogs, your wikis, your forums. Fuck your name calling. And most of all, fuck whatever you believe. It's all wrong. Fuck it.

Fuck your complaints. Fuck your addictions. Fuck your dependencies. Fuck your pain. Fuck your tears. Fuck selling whatever it is you sell. Fuck your manipulation of others. Fuck movies. Fuck fucking. Fuck everything you own. Fuck your allergies. Fuck your stupid commons sense. Fuck your spelling and fuck your lack of education, or your ignorance, whatever is applicable.

I don't give a fuck. Shut the fuck up and just get on with it.