Half Nelson.

All of a sudden--for no good reason, really, except that I was sort of in the mood for horsing around--I felt like jumping off the washbowl and getting old Stradlater in a half nelson. That's a wrestling hold, in case you don't know, where you get the other guy around the neck and choke him to death, if you feel like it. So I did it.

Catcher in the Rye – J.D. Salinger

I’m reading Catcher in the Rye right now. I found it quite amusing that it described a half nelson for me…

I left work early today. I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I was the only subtitle editor left in the office by 3:30 (only three of us had work anyway), and the tediousness of having nothing to do was getting on my nerves. So I went to the movies.

Half Nelson.

The movie’s not a particularly entertaining one. It’s a little slow. The plot is pretty simple and subtle.

The acting was brilliant. If I were the type to throw in profanity before my adjectives for emphasis, I would have added something before “brilliant.” But since I don’t, I’ll add “very.” The acting was very brilliant. As was the character development.

It was a pretty intimidating experience actually, watching perfectly written characters with their fully developed lives. With so little happening at times (if you call nothing being a grade-8 teacher doing drugs in the girls’ change room), it felt like I was just observing real people living lives so obviously destined for (if no intervention) self-destruction.

Thumbs up if you’re into the indie-movie scene. And Ryan Gosling completely deserves an Oscar.

Maybe I should go write something. Or start acting again. I had to light a cigarette once for a play. Apparently, my first try was pretty pathetic.

I feel as though sitcom writing just doesn’t measure up after that…

I Have Teeth. But No Style. Yet.

I went to the dentist today. This is a slightly (or very) big deal, as I now have benefits at work and am no longer showing up as my father's dependent. The last time I went to the dentist, the paperwork that got filed listed me as my father's common law wife. Too weird and disturbing.

Apparently my Diet Coke habit has yet to erode my teeth (I specifically brought this up). No cavities for me, yet again. The dentist's assistant took me aside when the dentist left the room and explained to me that I am going to get cancer from the aspartame. She was so serious. I was trying so hard not to laugh. She said she couldn't explain why, but it would happen. I drink a lot of water and tea, too. She made it sound like I snort, inject, and binge on aspartame.

I also went to the mall. I tried stuff on. Some of it fit. I bought nothing. I'm trying to decide if I should look all hip and chic for the film festival (tickets go on sale on the 6th - Sleeping Dogs plays Thursday the 14th, and Saturday the 16th - let me know if you're coming), or I should look broke and desperately in need of work. Maybe I should dress up like a sleeping dog. Or like Cate Blanchett or Reese Witherspoon and sneak into one of their parties.

That was my day. Work was slow. I worked on Smallville today. I'll admit it's a pretty decent little teen drama. I actually like Tom Welling better than Brandon Routh. More interesting.

A Story For Your Monday Evening

I would like to tell you all a story. So gather ‘round, children.

Once upon a time (three years ago or so), I was spending my afternoon in the Christian clubs’ office at the University of Guelph. Did I have class? Probably, but the disintegrating couches were much more appealing, and I didn’t have much energy to walk across campus to wherever else I was supposed to be. But I digress.

My dear friend Adam (who just got engaged – congrats!) came in, eager to share some news. This was our conversation as I recall it:

Adam: You’ll never guess who came into Starbucks the other day.
Me: The blond guy from Breaker High.

I have never seen such a face of disbelief in my entire life. As some know (and others many eventually find out), I have a great guessing ability. And I guess with confidence. So if I’m playing a trivia game with you, and I correctly answer the most obscure question you’ve ever heard, it was probably a guess disguised as knowledge.

Back to Adam. I was right. Ryan Gosling (then only of Breaker High and Young Hercules fame) had ordered coffee at the Burlington Starbucks he worked at. And I was quite proud of my guess. I did rob him of his story, though. There was no big reveal. Perhaps I should have guessed Chuck Norris instead.

My last post (and the subsequent comments) inspired this little tale. I hope you all enjoyed it. And for those of you who don’t know, Gosling was in the Mickey Mouse Club along with Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake and Christina Aguilera. He’s come a long way…

Saturday. Not much to show for it.

“Welcome, shepherds, and thank you for shopping at seller.”

That’s what I thought she said. Apparently, it was:

“Welcome, shoppers, and thank you for shopping at Zellers.”

I walked to Zellers today, hoping to buy storage solutions that are apparently only available at Ikea. This particular shopping centre happens to be the cheapest, brand-less and sketchiest I’ve been to in a while. All clothing was polyester, the food court was no-name grease, and the bulk food was over-priced. Hardly a successful trip, but it got me out of my apartment.

Other updates/thoughts:

• I know Swiffers are contributing to the trash problems in our world, but I bought one today. My new toy. I love it.
• I hate meeting people through email. I feel like I’m writing a cover letter instead of just saying hello.
• If you wear the wrong shade of lipstick, your teeth can appear quite yellow. Be warned.
• I need to see Half Nelson. Ryan Gosling is the new Christian Bale.
• I applied for a job. I had an interview. Then they got rid of the position.
• By the way, I totally called the Benji win on So You Think You Can Dance?
• Pluto is no longer a planet. Grade school teachers everywhere are desperately trying to write catchy new solar-system jingles.
• Peter’s Friends is a pretty great little British movie. You can only see it on VHS. And I love Hugh Laurie. And Kenneth Branagh. And Emma Thompson. It’s full of that depressing humor I can relate to all too well:
• “It's like kindergarten, school, university, black hole.”
• Boys in cars with loud stereos will holler at you if you have blonde hair. They drive right past if you have auburn hair. Girls, in an effort to make our roads safer (and quieter), let’s all ditch the blonde.
• I sliced my hand open on a broken glass while washing the dishes. Being domestic is dangerous.

S.O.A.P.

Since work is still sparse, I left early yesterday to catch Snakes on a Plane with my brother and a co-worker. I figured it would be a better use of my time than checking my email. Again. Seriously, Gmail should give me an award for being eagerly pathetic and ridiculously dedicated to their service.

Here’s the lowdown, folks. I know you want to know.

It sucked. And because it lived up to my expectations, I must give my two thumbs up (since Ebert’s still in recovery and can’t do it for me). It’s been a while since a film delivered what it promised. I appreciate that.

It’s a little vulgar, it’s a little gory, the snakes are fake, and Sam Jackson even dumbed down his acting as if trying to nab that Razzie nomination. Questions are left unanswered (How did the snakes get on the plane?) and Playstation is the real hero of the story.

I found a cheap theatre that only charged me $4.24 for my ticket. That’s cheaper than renting it. And if you don’t see it in theatres, don’t bother ever seeing it. The whole point is the group experience – the laughter, the cheering, and the “Why did he do that?” from the "way too young to see a graphic snake attack during an initiation into the Mile-High Club" kid behind you. Apparently in the States, some teens let loose a couple rattlesnakes in the theatre during a showing. Sometimes I want to be a parent just to show people how it’s done.

Should you go see it? Only if you have either cash or time to waste (time was my waster. I never have cash). And you have no pride. Oscar season is coming…

Wanted

It was one of those "how can I drag my work out to fill 8 hours?" days at work today. Sometime around 2, I realized I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast at 7. With no work to peel myself away from, I headed to Pizza Pizza for a salad (yes, I order salads at pizza places).

On my way back to work (work = checking my email. Again), I saw a "wanted" poster tacked onto a pole. I don't usually spend much time hydro-pole reading, but this one caught my eye. Maybe it was the words "dangerous" or "one-handed." And the picture looked very familiar. Too familiar. I've seen him. Maybe I know him.

Five second later, it hits me that this is a promotion for Prison Break, and I'm staring at some actor's headshot.

Hmm. The advertising strategy worked. I hate that.

August 17th

I love Kendall Payne. And she happens to have a song about being 23. And I happen to be 23. Funny how these things happen...

Twenty Three

Twenty three when did we become grown?
I never noticed the seeds of the cynic being sown.
Will we starve will the harvest time reap
Freedom or chains hope or disdain for the weak?
Twenty three when did we become safe?
We pray to feel pleasure and hate when we have to feel pain

Let me see your burn let me see your bruise
You look just like me
Let me see where you’re broken in two.

We pretend when we find the end of ourselves
Afraid to be real so we say that we’re somebody else
Little ones teach the big to be free
Children are only un-costumed humanity

While we wait here in the dark love lends a spark
But we can’t decide
‘Cause coming back to life is harder than hell
Once you have died

Finally I can see with your eyes
That everyone angry is only just aching inside
Twenty-three when the sun sets tonight
There’s always a reason we just cannot leave it behind

Last Choice Hairbotchers

A girl at work got a great haircut from First Choice Haircutters. Not one to pass up on a good deal, I decided to give it a try. I mean, a cut for less than $15 in Toronto? Who wouldn’t love that?

I wouldn’t. I brought five pictures with me, all of them with slightly-layered chin-length bobs. Very chic. A little British, even.

I should have run when I asked the stylist if she had a washroom I could use and she thought I was asking her to wash my hair. If that wasn’t a bright enough red flag, perhaps the fact that she didn’t understand that I wanted my hair to look like the photos I brought should have had me out of there. Unfortunately, I do not easily run.

So my hair is too long, and the layers have that choppy “Look, Ma, I cut my own hair” look, and yet are still too few. My thick hair now hangs like a triangle off my head. She didn’t take shape or texture into consideration. In fact, I had to suggest that she part my hair in the middle so that the strands on both sides of my head could be even. This didn’t help much, but she did it. And she kept asking me what she should do. “Should I layer it here? Is this where you want the layers?” I DON’T KNOW! I want the picture. If I knew how to do it, I would.

I’m not sure if I look like a soccer mom or the kid being dragged to soccer practice. Yes, I’m either 35 or 10.

Sheesh. I am not built for vanity, clearly.

"The bag made me do it."

I went to the library after work today. I’m a big library fan. I blame this on my father. If you see me wandering through the stacks, it’s not because I’m lost. I worked at a library when I was in high school; I am well-acquainted with Dewey Decimal. I just happen to believe that I should give each book an equal opportunity to be read. And so I read about financial planning (I need to stop renting and invest in property of my own), true crime, Pilates, old Hollywood, interior design, and then I top it off with a novel or two (often picked somewhat randomly. Yes, I cover-judge).

The library excursion is not very plot-pertinent to my day, but I mention it because the event made me bring a canvas bag with me. This particular bag is clearly labeled: “Assembly 2004: Evangelical Missionary Church of Canada.” After filling it with a half-dozen books or so, I hopped on the streetcar and headed home.

Fast-forward to the subway. It’s packed. I’ve got an over-sized purse over one shoulder, a massive library bag over the other; I’m standing, trying to stay balanced while I fill out a crappy crossword puzzle (I tell you, you get what you pay for with those free newspapers). Finally, someone gets off so I can sit. I’m a little squished with two bags on my lap, but at least I’m no longer at risk of falling over.

There’s a cute little kid on the subway. Poor guy. He’s clearly tired and overwhelmed by the volume of people. A seat becomes available, and his mom tells him to take it. He runs for it, only to have a woman nearly sit on him. By nearly, I mean that her rear end actually touches his shoulder. She sees/feels the kid (who really is there first) and chooses to sit down anyway. Perhaps her pride won’t allow her to admit she sat on a toddler.

He starts whining. He loudly announces to everyone, “I want to sit down.” The response is the typical “how adorable” laughter, and yet no one moves. This is when I realize that my bag is facing him. The bag that announces, “This young woman identifies herself with the Church, and even more, with Jesus Christ.”

I tap him on the shoulder and offer him my seat. By the response around me, you would have thought that I just offered him my kidney. Nadine the superhero indulges the whiny kid.

I’m glad I gave up my seat. I just wish I didn’t need a bag to make me do it.

An unrelated side note: I seem to have misplaced two pairs of brown socks, two brown headbands, and two blue pens. If you happen to encounter twin thieves, please notify me.

Randomness Vol. 2

As sentences don't seem to be forming very well this evening, I will subject you to brain diarrhea:

1. I had chocolate gelato for dinner tonight. I've been told that a calcium-rich diet is very important for young women. And chocolate is good for the heart.
   
2. Crush of the day: Benji, the cute Mormon kid from So You Think You Can Dance. He's going to win, just watch.
3. I walked for over 2 hours after work today. That is a good thing. I was wearing sandals. Not so good.
4. Doris Roberts' autobiography has a recipe with every chapter. How smart is that? It keeps people opening her book beyond the first read.
5. Work is a little busier again. Not the most interesting stuff, but paychecks are interesting enough to make it worth it.
6. Taste of the Danforth is coming.
7. So is my birthday.
8. I found out that the cute 2-bedroom cottage-like homes in my neighbourhood are selling for half a million dollars. I shall not complain about my rent.
9. Lately, I've become a little obsessed with recipe websites. The next step is to actually make something.
10. I have nothing else to say. I just like the look of a 10-point list.
    

10 Days In My Life

Okay, so I haven’t blogged in a while. I figured that I’d give you a quick rundown of what the last week or so has looked like:

Thursday, July 27

Arrived at work early only to be sent home after 1 ½ hours. Fortunately I had my luggage with me, so I grabbed an early bus to Kitchener.

Friday, July 28

My parents’ anniversary. It’s also the first day of my Stratford weekend. I met my friend Jen in Stratford while taking a three-week course in Shakespearean acting and criticism in 2003. We now meet there every summer; it’s our annual outing. We saw Much Ado About Nothing. Pretty delightful. And then her parents took us out to a pricey restaurant. Nice. Although I’ve decided that white wine with a lemongrass aftertaste is a little gross. Who wants a lemongrass aftertaste? I want a wine that tastes like chicken. Or a Shirley Temple.

Saturday, July 29

Back in Stratford. Saw Coriolanus. I had no idea what it was about going into it. The real reason we went was because a certain actor was in it and we tend to casually stalk him. The play was quite visually stunning, including the onstage burning of a corpse. And Colm Feore was brilliant. Jen headed off to another show (after we spent a few hours at Down the Street-- my favorite bar in the whole entire world-- eating the best garlic fries in the whole entire world). I hope to live in Stratford one day. Picnics every day, I tell you.

Sunday, July 30

Went to church in a movie theatre (The Meeting House - Yorkdale Mall). Seriously. And they showed a clip from Scary Movie 3. Again, seriously. It was pretty cool. My whole family then headed to a surprise birthday party for my aunt and uncle. It was actually a surprise. And my sarong was fine, for those who might care. I think it’s time to retire my skit self. I enjoy acting, but family-written jokes aren’t really my thing. Had Rolo chocolate cones for dinner.

Monday, July 31

Went to work. Nothing special. The schedule was pretty sparse. That Shakespearean actor we stalk? He emailed me. Apparently he never checks his email. So we missed him. Maybe we’ll hang out next year. Crazy man.

Tuesday, August 1

I checked my work schedule at 6am. There was nothing on it. In my half-awake daze, I fired off an email to my boss, bluntly expressing my confusion at the lack of hours (and subsequent inability to pay my rent). My boss emailed me back by 8:15 and promised me that from now on I will have priority with the scheduling. I went in late, and ended up having a full week.

Wednesday, August 2

Went to my cousins’ for dinner with my brother. I think I confused them by explaining that the oldest son in Cheaper by the Dozen is really Superman. And that Dorothy from Wizard of Oz is dead. But Shirley Temple is not.

Thursday, August 3

Did some laundry. Drano’d my bathtub. You know you’re growing up when you actually go to the story to buy Drano.

Friday, August 4

Scrubbed my bathtub now that it’s draining properly. Boy, my life keeps getting more and more fascinating.

Saturday, August 5

Went for a walk to Value Village this morning. It’s farther away than I thought. It took over 45 minutes to get there. And the store was tiny with nothing that fit me. So I went home and watched Legends of the Fall. I had no idea that the kid from E.T. grew up to be Brad Pitt’s brother. I brainstormed some story ideas for a sitcom I’m still trying to develop and quite possibly overdosed on jelly beans in the process.

That is my life. Sleeping Dogs is now on IMDB, but there’s no cast or crew listed yet. There are also the beginnings of an official website.

Twelve days till my birthday…