Let There Be Blog

I tend to think about blogging far more often than I actually blog. It seems that the minute the weather gets better, my social life picks up marvelously. No boyfriend, Beth (I wish), just life.

Here’s the super-quick rundown of the past couple of weeks (highlights only):

May 10

I meet a friend (who’s been Montreal-based for the past couple of years) for dinner. First, we head to the Bata Shoe Museum (it’s free after 5 on Thursdays) and talk costume history (we’re theatre friends). We then head to Republik and talk more theatre dreams and celebrity crushes and Stratford’s social scene and decide that we’re pretty much the same person.

May 11

I head home for Mother’s Day. (Okay, I leave work a little earlier than I really need to, but I couldn’t help it. The sunshine was calling me). The whole family goes mini-golfing. I start off well. I prematurely make the claim that I’ve found “my sport.” Everything is downhill from there. We celebrate/drown our sorrows at Dairy Queen.

May 12

Early-morning garage-sale shopping. Attempted shoe shopping. Risk. World domination probably isn't a career path I should be considering.

May 13

It’s Mother’s Day. After church, we make omelets (yes, I made my mom’s), and then Mom and I head out for a walk. We take the long route, and end up walking for over 2 hours. I learn that picking trilliums isn’t necessarily illegal. We stop by a friend’s to wish her a happy 16^th, and then my parents drive me back to Toronto. I take them out to Pickle Barrel for dinner. It’s fun treating people. I’m trying to groom myself for being a generous rich person.

May 14

I don’t remember anything about this day. I’m sure it was nice.

May 15

I go shoe shopping and buy adorable, comfortable Skechers. Finally.

May 16

I wear the Skechers and realize they are significantly too small for my feet. And they were final sale. I now own pretty shoes I can’t wear.

May 17

I pack and clean.

May 18

My mom picks me up after work and we head to Joanne’s for dinner (girlfriend of Michael, the birthday boy mentioned in a previous blog). Fantabulous chicken curry followed by a walk to get ice cream. I’m highly entertained by her 5-year-old. We then head to my grandma’s.

May 19

Drive into Uxbridge. I walk into a tiny shoe store and the salesman rocks my world. He measures my feet and talks about arches and support and all the sorts of things that 14-year-old saleskids never do at the mall. I buy two pairs of expensive shoes that feel like heaven. Mom and I baffle Grandma with the size of our salads at lunch, and then Mom and I take a walk along a country road. I think I want to live in the country. So picturesque and peaceful. After dinner, we meet Caleb, my cousin’s baby boy. So perfectly precious. I could almost hear a coworker of mine whispering in my ear, “Is your womb itching?” Close. I don’t know if I’m ready for a toddler and a baby, but I guess the whole husband-and-house thing would make it easier. When we leave, my cousin asks when I’m coming to visit her in Calgary. Hmm…

May 20

I love my grandma’s church. It’s quite possibly my favorite church in existence right now. After church, we play Scrabble (Mom wins) and later, euchre (I win the first game. A fluke). It’s a low-key evening, but delightful.

May 21

My mom makes the shocking suggestion that I cut fresh lilacs for my apartment. I’ve never really thought about fresh flowers in my place. And so I do. I think I’ll do the flower thing more often. We leave early to beat the post-long-weekend rush, and I’m home in time to watch Oprah and Dr. Oz talk about parasites.

May 22

I wear new shoes to work. By the end of the day, I’m crippled with blisters. Super. Have I ever mentioned that I have foot issues? Yeah, I don’t like them. Feet in general. I’m in a bit of a funk, but then I work out (a new thing for me, but I’ve been trying to get in some sort of exercise every day) and read my Bible. It’s funny how a shift in perspective can totally change everything. Matthew 5 & 6 is where it’s at, people. I’ve been reading through the Bible, and that’s where I happened to be at. And that’s exactly what I needed to read.

May 23

It’s the most gorgeous day ever. I wear a skirt to work. I feel light and pretty and don’t even mind the blisters from yesterday. I eat blackberries for a snack and take a short walk at lunch. I run errands after work and rent the sequels to Bourne and Pirates so I can watch the third installments of each this summer (if I so choose). I make a massive salad when I get home, blog a little, and get ready to watch the finale of Lost.

There. You are caught up. I shall try to blog again soon. And I’ll let you know if a boyfriend falls from the sky, Beth. If he does, I’ll ask him if he has a brother for you :)

Nathan

Today my baby brother (I’m sure he’s gonna love that I called him that) turns 20. The weirdest part about having no teenage siblings is that the age gap has pretty much closed and we’re now just a trio of adult siblings, me being the short one. When I was little, I was amazed that my mom was friends with her brothers, and was quite convinced that such a thing would never happen to me. I was wrong. Brothers can be quite cool. Especially when you don’t have to live with them. Kidding. Mostly.

Nathan, even though we don’t live in the same city, there are plenty of little things around me that make me think of you:

• Wal-Mart. And the Gap. When I don’t go in.
• Mohawks. Especially the floppy ones that slightly resemble roadkill.
• Skaters. They’re everywhere. I bet none of them built their own halfpipe.
• Chuck Norris. Subtitling Walker is like spending the day with you.
• Zellers. The mutual-but-separate midnight madness.
• Brooms. Enough said.
• Urine-colored hair. Sorry about that.
• Early nineties Christian music. Because I stole your CDs when you tried to throw them out.
• Pencil crayons. Because you stole mine.
• Mondays. My old fasting day.

Hope you had a great day. I love you.

See you this weekend!

Bad Day

You know you’re having a bad day when:

• A coworker sends you the above picture because it reminds him of how he thinks you’re feeling.
• You pack grapes in a sour cream container. Then you bring sour cream to work with you instead of your grapes. And then you have to leave your sour cream at work over the weekend as you're not going straight home and it needs immediate refrigeration.
• You are given 12 hours’ worth of work. To be done by the end of the day.
• You send an email to your boss that ends with "I'm only one person."
• You're staring at the clock and it's not even 9 a.m. yet.
• You regret not calling in exasperated. Or sick (and tired). Or dead.
• You plot Popeye's murder.
• The most exciting thing you hear all day is that Paris Hilton is going to jail.
• A coworker sends you a scathing email (CCing the boss), criticizing your feedback technique on her disastrous file. The file you spent two days fixing. She thinks you’re harsh and inappropriate. You have no desire to even defend yourself (for fear that the real inappropriateness will lash out). Luckily, someone higher up is on your side.
• You are asked to work on the weekend four times. You don’t dignify such questions with a response.
• You escape early, while management is in a meeting. No one can stop you.
  
• You see Spiderman 3 and are disappointed. And teen girls behind you talk incessantly through the whole thing. Someone shushes them and they swear at her and say they paid for their tickets. So did you. But you paid to hear Tobey say awkward things, not them.
• The movie theatre no longer carries Smarties. You eat Skittles instead, which only reminds you of how disappointed your brother will also be when he sees the movie.
• You go to a video store and don’t care what you rent.
• The highlight of your day is buying roasted red peppers, artichoke hearts, leeks and fresh basil. At least it's not a Doritos binge.

Catching Up

A correction: My dad is 22 years younger than Carol Burnett, not 12. Sorry, Dad. I haven’t done math in a while.

So much to say. Because I blog so little.

Here’s a quick recap of my recent life (notice that I actually seem to have a life):

Wednesday

It’s Michael’s birthday. For those of you who don’t know him, he’s a former basement-dweller-turned-friend who now lives out west. And he’s visiting his girlfriend in Toronto. And his girlfriend is very cool. (Possibly cooler than you, Mike. No offense). So she plans a surprise dinner for him at a great restaurant called Fire on the East Side. Great food. Fun people. And I totally monopolize Mike’s attention. Because I see him for a couple hours once a year. I do manage to miss someone finding a vibrator that isn’t hers in her purse when I go to the bathroom, though. Oh, and Nelly Furtado was there the night before, so I’m officially hip. And the waiters are all beautiful gay men. Good raspberry chocolate cheesecake. Happy birthday, Mike.

Thursday

Nothing super-eventful. I make birthday cards for my dad and brother in front of CSI. (It’s birthday season, you may have noticed). I pack for the weekend.

Friday

I leave work early and head to meet my mom at Yorkdale Mall. I have a massive bag with me. A guy on the streetcar stands over me and essentially tells me to put my bag on my lap. Even though I already have another bag on my lap. So I pile my bags on top of each other so he can sit beside me. He then feels my bag and asks me if there’s a live animal in it. I tell him he’s feeling my blow-dryer as I silently vow to never date a guy I meet on public transit. Especially ones who will increase my discomfort just to sit with me. And who molest my luggage.

I meet Mom. We head to my grandma’s, who doesn’t know we’re coming for dinner. Then we head to my cousin’s (Second cousin? Third?) for a ladies’ meeting. My mom’s the “speaker” (it feels too casual for such a title. She’s the “talker”? “Sharer”?) and shares about her experience in Haiti. I’m the youngest person there by at least 20 years and yet I’m surprisingly comfortable there. And all the little old ladies (my mom will kill me for typing that) chat until 11pm!

Saturday

Mom and I get up early and head to Waterloo. First, Grandma tries to serve me every brand of cereal she has. And raisin bread. And cookies. And chocolate. For someone who doesn’t look fondly on chubbiness, she is certainly trying to release my inner 300-lb woman. Mom and Dad disappear to the EBC graduation, so I spend my afternoon teaching Nathan’s roommate to make omelets and watching my brothers try to work together on a card for my dad. It’s both hilarious and exasperating and takes hours, but they finally agree on an outline of a sheep with a cotton ball and glue stick in a separate baggie so it can be interactive.

The whole family goes to East Side’s for dinner (I include Sam in “the family” since she will be one day), and sit by a door. That employees like to open. I am cold. But the food is good and I took great advantage of the all-you-can-eat Caesar salad.

I have a trivia addiction, and am finally able to convince people to play Trivial Pursuit with me. Unfortunately, we play the Baby Boomers Edition and very few of us are baby boomers. In fact, my pop culture knowledge is older than that. I want questions about Jimmy Stewart, Laurence Olivier and Katherine Hepburn. We soon realize that the answers are always Don McLean, The Beatles, John Denver, Hair, Jesus Christ Superstar and Ronald Reagan (although the last time my parents played, the answer was always Jimmy Carter). We cheat to make it more fun. And Joel stays far away, as he would rather have surgery without anesthesia than spew out trivia.

Sunday

Church. We go to the church we visited on Christmas Day. Missionaries with Wycliffe are visiting and their presentation is awesome. And inspiring. I’m getting that itch. Not necessarily the overseas-missions itch (yet), but that dissatisfaction with my life because I know something bigger is in store. A good, exciting dissatisfaction.

We head to a pottery show. My dad has recently started pottery classes, so while I admire, he takes notes and gets inspired. Then I go grocery shopping with Mom and Dad. It’s a field trip. Barbequed hamburgers soon follow. And as it’s gorgeous out, my mom and I go for a walk (and talk) for a while, before everyone just crashes in the living room and lets Dad explain NASCAR racing to the ignorant (all of us) while eating Rolo ice cream.

Monday

Back at work. The schedule’s a little impossible, but I ignore this fact and still manage to leave a little early so I can catch the matinee of Amazing Grace that’s showing at a cheap theatre. Now, I’ve been to a lot of movies by myself, but never have I been the only person in the entire theatre. By the time the previews are over, there are six people in the theatre. But the row is all mine.

The movie is pretty fantastic. I am in love with Ioan Gruffudd. (I couldn’t figure out where I’d seen him before. So I IMDb’d him. He was an officer in Titanic). He should be on the cover of People’s 50 Most Beautiful People. Yes, William Wilberforce is my new crush. There are these perfect moments where you can see God in his eyes. I’m not sure how an actor prepares to be a man of God, but he did his homework. Wilberforce wasn’t even 30 when he was lobbying for the abolition of slavery in the House of Commons. The whole story is just really beautifully played out, painting a picture of a man with a heart for God and a desire for justice. I’m inspired by his youth, by his own struggle in figuring out how to follow God and still be involved in a secular world, by his counterculture image, by his perseverance. I know that slavery is still a pretty huge reality for a lot of the world, but the changes he saw in his lifetime were pretty miraculous. The movie also makes me want to lie down in the wet grass and stare at spider webs. Until I remember that I don’t like being damp.

I go grocery shopping. Some old man is yelling and swearing at a guy who asked him to move for a woman and her baby. And he doesn’t stop yelling. Or swearing. So we all stare.

I make my lunch for the next two days and unwind with a good blog.

That is all.

Dad

April 26^th.

• The 116^th day of the year in the Gregorian calendar.
• My dad’s birthday.
• My dad occasionally listens to Gregorian chants.
• I will not make fun of this, as it is his birthday.

April 26^th.

• Carol Burnett was born in 1933.
• My dad was born the same day, 12 years later.
• Carol’s a comedian.
• My dad dressed up as a clown for my birthday party when I was little.
• He even wore fake ears.

April 26^th.

• Jet Li was born.
• Did I mention it’s my dad’s birthday today?
• Jet Li can kick high.
• My dad taught kids to kick soccer balls.

April 26^th.

• Count Basie died.
• My dad doesn’t plan on dying today.
• Basie was a jazz bandleader.
• My dad likes jazz.

April 26^th.

• It’s Take Your Daughter to Work Day.
• My dad has a daughter.
• She went to work today.

April 26^th.

• In 1966, Steven Truscott’s case was referred to the Supreme Court. His conviction was upheld.
• He didn’t do it.
• Neither did my dad.
• I’ve read a lot of books on Truscott.
• My dad reads a lot of books.

Happy birthday, Dad. And thanks for the history lesson.

Joel

Happy Birthday, Joel.

And William Shakespeare.
And Timothy McVeigh.
And Michael Moore.
And Valerie Bertinelli.
And Roy Orbison.
And Shirley Temple.

But mostly Joel.

I did not buy you an attack cat.
I did not buy you your weight in Skittles.
It is illegal to steal "Pedestrian X" signs, so I did not get you one of those either.

Isn't the fact that you're not dead celebration enough?

See you Saturday.
Love you.

I'm so happy, feeling snappy

Whatever happened to Hocus Pick? And are they still feeling comfy cozy?

The sun is out. It's warm. And in light of everything going on in the world, I live a pretty awesome life. So I'm trying to pay attention to the great things around me, and not get bogged down by the emails my boss keeps sending out, begging people to start working 6- and 7-day work weeks. So I work my 40 hours, breathe a little deeper, and make like Sheryl Crow and "soak up the sun."

Nadine's Pursuit of Happiness (Notice how I spell "happiness" correctly, Will Smith):

1. On Thursday night, I saw my cousin perform in her school’s production of Guys and Dolls. It was the first high school play I’ve seen since high school. I felt like a proud parent. And a little jealous. And if I was an agent, I would have signed the girl who played Adelaide in a heartbeat.
2. I had an hour-and-a-half lunch on Friday. I sat on the patio at Tortilla Flats, splurging on a wrap (made with a pita, so it wasn't really a wrap) and fries (I never eat fries), soaking up the sun and deciding that I would be quite happy never going back to work.
3. Fracture is one of those fun, guilty-pleasure movies that isn’t super deep or as twisted as it promises to be, but has such fantastic performances that it doesn’t even matter. And for a psychological thriller, I laughed out loud more than I ended up sitting on the edge of my seat, and I loved it all the more for that (it was intentionally funny, not so bad that it was funny). It was also refreshing to see a movie that promoted some kind of integrity/morality in the face of rather significant temptation to act otherwise. Two thumbs up (my fun thumbs, not my Oscar-picks thumbs).
4. Semi-related to Fracture, this video makes me happy. The sound gets better after the first few seconds. And Justin Timberlake is in the background, I think. If only Gosling was in Newsies….
5. The weather is gorgeous.
6. I have a passport. I went for a two-hour walk on Saturday and picked it up at a tiny convenient store (with a post office at the back) a few blocks east of where I live. And then I explored the neighborhood. And found another library. Yes, I have more to read now. I also found a bookstore that only stocks cinema-related materials (along with movies and posters). Now I know where to get my Gene Kelly and Jimmy Stewart fixes (and screenwriting manuals).
   
7. I have a new debit card. My debit card was having problems at a few places, so I went into the bank and they looked at my card like I handed them a fossil. I got the card in the seventh grade, and the signature had rubbed off, and the edges of the card were sharp and rough (and potentially damaging if I chose to slash someone with it). I also applied for an Air Miles Card. I thought that it would go nicely with the new passport.
8. Matthew McConaughey is reading The Case for Christ. We now have something in common. I didn’t wear a wetsuit when I read my copy, but to each his own.
   
9. Church showed a clip from Shaun of the Dead. Yeah, it was Week 2 of zombie goodness.
   
10. Apparently, the church I’m going to has gone from 100 people to 600 in about a year and a half. Crazy. A good crazy.
11. There was an elderly couple with their arms wrapped around each other during worship this morning. It made me smile.
12. I went to a free catered lunch after church. And someone asked the pastor, “If I go to one of your home churches, does it make me Mennonite?” He responded with, “Yes. We’ll get you a hat and a pitchfork.”
13. Someone told me today that I have a dream job. Huh. I guess it can’t be that bad.
14. I walked around downtown for two hours today. When the sun’s out, I walk. I also had a semi-successful shopping experience, although my purchases sound rather scandalous: bras, perfume, makeup, whipped cream (this was part of a grocery order - for those who need clarification). At least I steered clear of feathered boas and stilettos. I’m way too Mary Tyler Moore for such things. Or maybe Donna Reed.
15. The Katherine Hepburn book keeps getting better. I love that she knew herself so well. She had no illusions of her own grandeur.
16. I bought a pre-made salad today to bring to work tomorrow. It makes me feel like I'm bringing a lunch from home (which I am), and yet no effort is involved. I could live off lettuce. Lettuce drenched in dressing, accessorized with cheese.
    

I'm distracted by an Ellen rerun. Ryan's on. He's stalking me. I should go.

Enjoy the weather while we've got it. The chart isn't too pretty on TheWeatherNetwork.com. At least my umbrella and I will be celebrating our 4-month anniversary this week...

It's About Time

Sanjaya is going home.

That is all. Carry on.

For those of you who live under a rock...

...and haven't seen this yet.

Be warned: This is not for people who are uncomfortable with mild profanity. Or toddlers. Or toddlers spewing that profanity.

For some reason, such things entertain me. So frikkin' cute ("Frikkin'" is as far as I go, people. I'm not Pearl).

Things to know. If you want to know things.

So my weekend was pleasantly uneventful (translation for most of the world: boring), as I turned down a party invite (drunkenness at the other end of the city isn’t my thing. Actually, drunkenness anywhere is generally not my thing, but adding travel to it only decreases the non-appeal) and opted to laze around in sweats and watch movies.

My dad drives my brother crazy because he can surf the Internet, read a book and flip through channels at the same time. I surprised myself by my own dad-likeness this weekend when I distracted myself from Bull Durham with a cookbook. I tried to stay focused, but The Joy of Cooking was just sitting there. I couldn’t leave it alone. So I don’t really remember a whole lot about the ending of the movie, but I am looking forward to making mini pizzas with Portobello mushrooms….

Yes, my major field trip this weekend was to the library:

• A Million Little Pieces. Unfortunately, he chose to randomly capitalize words and I’m having a hard time adjusting. I can handle an autobiography full of lies. I just hate screwed-up grammar.
• Eats, Shoots & Leaves. Because of my grammar obsession.
• Kate Remembered. I’m already addicted to this one (yes, I have multiple books on the go. Again, like father…). Katherine Hepburn is fascinating. And the biographer allows himself to be self-indulgent and shares the experience of interviewing her instead of just listing her filmography.
• A couple magazines.
• The Joy of Cooking.
• Christopher Lowell, The Hassle-Free Host. Because I’ll host a party one day. And it will be glorious. And hassle-free.

On Sunday, I headed to church. As I got on the bus, the driver gave me a curious look and said, “Where were you last week? It was Easter Sunday.” I had no idea that I was such a memorable passenger that he would be concerned that I missed a week of church. He’s my new favorite driver (British and cool in a Hugh-Laurie-with-less-grumpiness kind of way).

Church was all about zombies. Yes, zombies. Including clips from Night of the Living Dead. It was resurrection-focused and it actually challenged me, which I quite appreciated. What stuck with me the most was that the promise of my own resurrection in the future is so secure that it’s already as true for me as my past is. It’s not a maybe. I’m not going to start talking about it in the past tense, but I could…

I also signed up for a free lunch with the pastor next week. It’s actually a pretty cool idea to have a lunch just for new people, as it’s a pretty big group and it’s tough to connect with people. So at least I’ll finally meet some people and learn more about ministry opportunities there (I noticed that I was the first girl to sign up. I’m liking my odds. Very non-Guelph-like).

I ended up getting the same bus driver on the way home. Very rare. So we did the whole, “See you next week” thing that makes me forget I live in a huge city by myself.

Sylvia is depressing and a little boring (I caught myself thinking, “Just kill yourself already.” And then I felt slightly guilty. Only slightly. But Gwyneth was wonderful). The Upside of Anger was the best of the bunch, except that there is no upside. Kevin Costner was just a slightly younger and drunker version of Jack Nicholson in Terms of Endearment. There’s a surprising twist, but it still wasn’t satisfying enough. It’s essentially an anti-drinking PSA. I would give up drinking, but I already did that last year (sooo kidding. I’ll give it up next year). And as much as I love Joan Allen, even Olive Oyl could develop a pudgy complex after watching too many of her films. Eat. Food. Now. (One of the daughters goes by “Popeye,” making my mentioning of Olive Oyl so much more precious).

Work was a full 10-hour day of subtitling pain today. For some reason, L.A. thought that Filipino subtitlers would be capable of transcribing a film about African-American comics. Yeah right. The rapidity, slang, accents, pop culture references and poor sentence structure makes it impossible for them. So I’m essentially redoing the entire thing. I really need to stop relying on chocolate to get me through the mess. I need to take up a celery habit.

Thoughts:

1. The kid from Witness (Lukas Haas) turned 31 today. And I’m the one who feels old.

2. After reading through previous blogs, I would like to clarify: I have nothing against men. Just man-boys. I want a George Clooney, not an Owen Wilson. What is wrong with expecting people to grow up and mature a little?

3. The “thing for Kevin Costner” was a joke. I do have standards.

4. Cool song lyric heard on TV this weekend:

God is great, but sometimes life ain’t good

And when I pray, it doesn’t always turn out like I think it should

But I do it anyway, I do it anyway

Anyway – Martina McBride

5. Now that Prince William is single, I have a slightly greater chance of one day being Queen Nadine. And being British. He’s tall and mature. At least his accent makes him seem mature.

6. It’s free ice cream day at Ben & Jerry’s tomorrow. Go.

Movie Madness

I can't quite articulate why, but everytime I'm in a video store, I feel some sort of obligation to rent a serious, important film.

My day started off to a soggy start. I was determined to not hate my life this morning, so I dressed up a little, wore more jewelry and makeup than usual, and packed fun food to snack on (Mini Wheats, grapes, a discounted chocolate bunny). Unfortunately, the Philippines didn't get my "let's make Thursday happy" memo and I was sent the crappiest of all crappy files to work on. It was so bad I refused to work on it. I've never done that before. So they're going to resend it tomorrow. Hopefully without the hundreds of errors.

Anywho, I left early (since I didn't really have anything to do) and ended up in Blockbuster. My favorite way to unwind is to be anti-social and just hang out in my apartment and read, write and watch movies. I can't pack my weekend with social engagements. I need a certain amount of nothingness to prepare me for the coming week.

Maybe it's because I live alone. When I'm hanging out with other people, I'm all about the fun movies. But when I rent DVDs just for me, I feel this unspoken pressure to watch classics, award-winners, critical and cultural gems. So there I was, staring at copies of A Streetcar Named Desire, All About My Mother, A History of Violence and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. And I just couldn't do it.

So I gave myself permission to impulse rent. Way too much of my life is thought out and over-analyzed. I just felt this need for cinematic breathing room. I wandered every aisle and picked out the three that caught my fancy, and tried not to second-guess anything. Here's what I picked:

1. Bull Durham. Because I like baseball movies. And Susan Sarandon. And I haven't seen it.
2. Sylvia. Because I like true stories. And Daniel Craig. And Gwenyth. And because my woes as a writer are nothing compared to Sylvia Plath's.
3. The Upside of Anger. Because subconsciously I must have a thing for Kevin Costner (who plays a retired ball player. I tell you, the man is obsessed with that sport: Bull Durham, Field of Dreams, For the Love of the Game). And because I like intimate family dramedies.
   

There. Not a Gone With the Wind in the bunch. No Brando, no Woody Allen, no foreign languages.

I will eat dark chocolate and watch as a fan, not as a student of film. I love weekends.

Easter: My Style

Hey everyone. Clearly, I can't do the consistent blogging thing. I'll try to catch you all up on my weekend.

A side note before I begin: I had no idea that my shopping woes would evoke such a strong reaction from everyone (yes, I received emails as well as comments). I appreciate the offers of stylists and shopping buddies (and may well take you all up on the offers), but please be assured that my rants are merely rants and I don't actually spend my days hating my shoulders or wearing paper bags. I am generally well-dressed and quite satisfied with my figure. And I do enjoy shopping alone and trying on random items as long as there's no immediate event I have to dress for. The end.

My Easter:

Wednesday

I decided to take Thursday off (I had Friday and Monday off - paid even - so I figured I'd take an extra day off and give myself a five-day weekend). So Wednesday evening my dad picked me up, making sure that we arrived in Waterloo in time for me to watch Lost with Joel. I must admit, since revealing Jack's piano-playing ability, I'm even more smitten with Matthew Fox. It's nice to see a real man on TV. I've been very anti-man-boy lately.

Thursday

It was cold. Dad took the van to Mississauga, so Mom and I did the transit thing, trekking across K-W to the Passport Office. My bones were cold for the rest of the day. But my passport will arrive by the end of the month, which means I can go somewhere. I've never been in a plane. I'm tired of being deprived. I shall fly.

I love hanging out in the kitchen with my mom when I'm home. Thursday was something my mom called a "bean stack" (a layered torilla and bean dish). Then we all watched The Prestige, and stayed up way too late. Because that's what I do when I'm home. I eat and stay up late. Every time. And end up debating whether or not a dinosaur could actually fight a shark.

Friday

Mom and I headed to a craft show. We met up with a woman who lived with my family when I was about 10. She looked the same to me. Of course, I'm not quite the 10 year old I was, so there was a little more staring on her part, but all was well. I bought honey-cinnamon butter, and then immediately regretted it because I try to keep sugar out of my house. (That's my version of discipline: Out of sight, out of mouth). Oh well.

Ruth (that's the woman's name) and her friend came over for dinner. I think there was nonstop talking for a good five hours. More good food. And chocolate cheesecake. After they left, my brother brought out Risk and promptly took over Australia before any of us knew how to play. That's one way to win :) The game was short, and followed up with more cheesecake.

Saturday

I bought two pots and a knife. Because I'd rather shop for my kitchen than for my body. And I got my haircut. For some reason, no stylist can cut my hair short enough. Maybe I should pull a Britney....

Mom and I did some menu planning for the rest of the week, we made lots of food, we ate lots of food, and then we played Risk again. But this time, my dad sat it out, choosing instead to don his Montreal Canadiens sweater and pray for a miracle in front of the TV. It didn't come. At least his pain was eased the next day by the Leafs elimination. Risk took 5 hours. I was begging for someone to attack me. Please, end my pain.

Sunday

Everyone (including Nathan and his girlfriend, Sam) went to Koinonia. I call it Hillsongs Jr. It was a pretty great choice for Easter Sunday, as it has a pretty vibrant and joyful vibe. Nathan then headed back to Peterborough (he had a presentation Monday), and the rest of us headed home to get ready for our Easter bash on Monday. I think I did the dishes 6 times. We ate homemade pizza in front of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. And then Mom beat me at Scrabble. By one point.

Monday

Everyone came. A little late, mind you, and 6 people couldn't make it, but 17 members of my mom's side crammed into our house and had a jolly time. Yes, I just typed the word "jolly." Good food, great conversation, more dishes to wash, and the perfect amount of choas that only comes from putting a small crowd of people in a room and letting them all talk at the same time. I think I was part of three conversations at the same time at one point. And then my cell phone rang. There was no one there, so I yelled, "I don't love you" into it and everyone turned and stared at me. That's one way to get everyone's attention. And then I explained to my grandma that it was a wrong number, not an ex-boyfriend.

After consuming plenty of sugar (and more cheesecake), the party started to dwindle, and I headed back to the T-dot, where my fridge was empty and where no one could distract me as I tried to get ready for bed.

Tuesday

Back at work. In my stretchiest jeans while I detox from my recent bout of gluttony. The day was rather uneventful and (thankfully) quite stress-free. This is what I learned:

• Sleeping Dogs is screening in Toronto this weekend. At the Royal (on College): Fri/Sat/Sun at 7pm, Tues at 9:15. Go see it.
  
• Larry Birkhead is the father.
• You know how Amazon remembers the things you look at? Thanks to the randomness of my job, it currently lists my recent views as:
• Of Mice and Men
• Drake's Devil Dogs (yes, the snack food)
• Donovan's Greatest Hits
• La Bamba - Trini Lopez
• Commando Double Stick Strips Accessory (yes, this was work-related)
  
• "Milk-chocolate flavored" is not the same thing as milk chocolate. I have never thrown out candy before. So gross.
• John Travolta has to be wearing a toupee. There can be no other explanation for his mane.
  

There. You're caught up. I had a fantabulous weekend. My fridge is now restocked. And there are only three days left to my work week. I could get used to this...

"What are you doing and why aren't you doing it faster?" - Joel

Mallrat I'm not

Before I begin:

My apologies for the inconsistent blogging. I just realized that my last blog was quite depressing; with no follow-up, I'm sure most of you have assumed that I've plunged into an isolating, anti-blogging depression. I assure you, my week got better and I've not had any of my work deleted by L.A. since last Monday.

Back to today:

A friend at work and I were discussing my perpetual shopping dilemmas. I am in such desperate need of a wardrobe that, upon entering any shopping centre, I get overwhelmed. If I look at pants, my brain gets obsessed with the fact that I have no shoes to wear the pants with. Or shirts. And if I look at shirts, I can't get over the absence of a good bra. Or necklace. And if I look at necklaces, I get all depressed because there's no point buying jewelry when there's nothing to wear it with. And so I go home empty-handed. On top of these mental blocks, my body seems to be half a size bigger or smaller than clothing is designed for. And if I were to gain or lose that perfect half size, my legs and arms would still be abnormally orangutan-like, my feet would still have arches that seem to curve away in repulsion from all footwear options, and my shoulders would still better suit a linebacker.

Our shopping conversation ended with a very simple conclusion: I am Woody Allen at the mall. The calm, laid-back, intelligent woman that I can sometimes pass for morphs into a neurotic, indecisive, jittery mess. (And those changing-room mirrors screw with my body image to the point where Woody and I could be twins).

So today, after work, I took a deep breath and made myself shop. I was not allowed to leave the mall without buying something. Which means that I tried on piles of clothing, almost putting my back out with the awkward neck- and armholes that didn't align with the actual positions of my neck and arms. I tried on long, baggy sweater dresses that made me look like a ballet dancer who let herself go. I tried on short little jumpers that made me look like I haven't been shopping since the third grade.

I have too much personal style to wear the crazy trends. Nothing looks like me. And my style isn't flamboyant by any means. It's just not uber-trendy, super-tight, hip-hop-video ready. Maybe I watch too much America's Next Top Model, but as I was shopping I kept trying to accurately define in a catchy soundbite what my style is. I think I got it:

My personal style is Audrey Hepburn at camp.

Yep, that's me. I like classic, well-made, well-fitted clothing. I like scarves, solid colors and tasteful stripes. I don't like things that only work for one season. But I'm not glamorous enough to be a true Audrey. I wear neutrals. Brown is my obsession. I like a little ruggedness: the odd hoodie, chunky sweaters and khaki capris. So I'm Audrey at camp.

It took four agonizing hours (and $150), but I came home with four shirts, two tanks, a bracelet and three pairs of socks. No pants, no shoes, no bra. But at least it's a start.

I may be the only girl on the planet who has to convince herself to shop more often....

Long Day

I arrived at work at 7:45 this morning, well aware of the tedious workload I was facing. You see, I spent my day working on a file that was done by people who do not know English very well. They do not know that Oz is a fictional place, that the New York Ballet is a company, not a dance name, that it's Rodgers and Hammerstein, not Rogers and Hammerstein.

Essentially, I spent my day fixing other people's work.

And I titled song after song after song (a dance montage project).

After almost 11 hours of staring at my screen, I went home. My eyes were bloodshot and I was slightly jittery (my healthy lunch gone by 11am, I resorted to caffeine and Smarties to get me through the rest of the day).

I decided to meander home and take an extra-long route. This may not make sense to most people, who, after a really long day, want nothing more than dinner and their couch. I, however, saw myself as having two options: I could be computer-screen tired or fresh-air tired. So I walked for about 45 minutes, checking out the local architecture (I love looking at houses), and zig-zagging my way up and down the streets near my place. Then I ate a lot of vegetables. To compensate for the earlier sugar.

Then I checked my work email. This is never a good idea. Ever. LA emailed me (not literally the city; a guy from the LA office). He decided that my musical montage project didn't need the songs titled. My hundreds of subtitles were deleted with the stroke of one button, leaving only the narration of aging dancers. "The lyrics weren't plot-pertinent." I wonder what would happen if I told him that he is not plot-pertinent.

So now I'm heading to bed. After reading some Truman Capote. And a monologue about hallucinations and Keanu Reeves.

And I will wake up at 6 and do it all over again. At least tomorrow is musical-free.

Just Because.

Best Christmas present ever: a little white cassette player (that still works beautifully). And with it was "Carman: Yo Kidz," the coolest tape for the coolest kid on the planet.

And today, I would like to share with you all a video from the album. Hilariously starring Hanson lip-synching to Carman. Yes, this is for real. Way before Hanson was Hanson (outside of their last name).

PS I loved this song because "shut up" is in the lyrics. My parents were giving me permission to be profane.

Coolest Thing Ever

Check this out.

And The New York Times, too.
So close to fame. So far from fortune.

Secrets

Okay, so there's this tagging going around that challenges people to share 5 secrets with the world. Here's my problem with this: 1) I'm pretty open-book, 2) Most of my secrets are only half secrets. A friend from university might not know something, but my family does. And 3) Real secrets aren't for posting online. This said, I'll do my best. I have a feeling this will be more "Nadine trivia" than actual secrets. And because they're not big and juicy secrets, I'll even list six:

1. I have always been a reader. When I was in public school, I could easily make it through one of The Babysitter's Club books in one sitting. And one character, Claudia, had candy hidden throughout her room (her parents had banned junk food). So I did the same. I hid little chocolate bars I won in Sunday School behind the books in my bookshelf. There's nothing more exciting than finding a forgotten Aero bar behind Little Women.
   
2. I own a Hanson album ("Live and Electric"). On purpose. Did you write a hit song when you were 11? I didn't think so.
3. I love infomercials. I pine for a Magic Bullet. And I own Windsor Pilates DVDs (yes, I use them, and no, I did not order them. I bought them from a store). I think I'm just a sucker for all things before-and-after (Oprah's weight-loss shows make me want to lose 100 pounds. But I don't want to die, so I don't do it).
   
4. I have washed my face every single night before going to bed since I was 10. This includes on mission trips and when camping. I can't sleep without a clean face.
5. Sharon has always been my favourite (of "Sharon, Lois and Bram" fame). I wanted to be her.
   
6. I grew up in a household that respected most styles of music. Except country. And so as my subconscious rebellion against my father, I would spent afternoons at my friend's house, watching Billy Ray Cyrus videos. This one was my favorite. Can you blame me?

Church and the Movies.

I hate going to church alone. I love going to the movies alone. On Sunday, I merged the two and went to The Meeting House. And you know what? I actually had a pretty great time. Of course, being the single girl all alone, the sermon would naturally be "Sex and Singleness." I have a lot of respect for a sermon that opens with the song "Let's Talk About Sex," and, in the course of the teaching, includes the phrase "crushing of testicles" without once sounding glib or immature. Yeah, Bruxy rocks. And for the first time since arriving in Toronto, I feel like my friends would actually enjoy themselves. Or at least not get the creeps. I guess the whole "church for people who aren't into church" thing is true. It was packed. And since the sermon was a part of a series, I'll be back next week. It's so refreshing to be enthusiastic about church again. And no, not just because it's about sex, people. Sheesh.

As someone who spends quite a bit of time at the movies, it was pretty powerful to be worshipping God in a theatre. It sort of put things in perspective for me; It's about God, not movies and dreams and Jake Gyllenhaal's eyebrows (see below). In fact, lately I've come to the realization that I could give it all up. I could drop the life I'm currently living/dreaming of in a heartbeat and follow God's leading anywhere. I just want to be where God wants me and who He wants me to be. Nothing else.

And then I hung around and saw Zodiac (which has nothing to do with astrology, for those who are anti-horoscope). It's long but completely worth the numb butt. There's something very intriguing about a film that's based on case files. Yes, case files. It's a true story that's never really been resolved, so the film can't go there. Highly recommended. Not scary, but captivating. And do I really look like Chloe Sevigny? I guess if my hair was long, blonde and stringy...

March 2nd. Version Nadine.0

6:00

Alarm goes off. The DJ is announcing school closures. “If you don’t have to go outside, don’t,” is what I hear. I want to call in sick/slushed in. To make the best case, I figure I’ll get ready for work and have the weather stop me. Yesterday, I had to walk home in half a foot of snow, with the wind knifing me in the face.

6:45

Showered, dressed, makeuped (word of the day). I’m eating breakfast. The TV weather guy says it’s gross out. Theweathernetwork.com says it’s gross out. My window says it’s gross out.

7:11

I’m on the bus, heading to work. I left a rent cheque and a small list of bathroom-repair issues for my landlord in the drawer in the table in the entryway. And I left my laundry in a heap on the floor so I can do it the minute I get home.

7:50

At work. No delays, no real weather issues at all for transit. My pants are soaked from the flooding at the intersections. While I don’t want to be at work, I know I’d feel guilty sitting at home and leaving the massive workload to the few who chose to come.

10:31

Mom calls. She thinks I’m at home. I’m not. The sun is shining and the streets are drying up. It’s nice to talk to someone who’s not bitter/tired/stupid.

11:00

Wondering why anyone would want to watch TV on their cell phone.

12:00

So hungry. I go next door and order herb chicken on Caesar salad. I’m too lazy to actually walk to Queen St. where the selection/quality/prices are better.

2:00

I’m providing feedback for new subtitlers. It’s painful. I want to smash my face against a brick wall. I talk to one of my supervisors. There will be an intervention next week (read: shape up or you’re gone. And no, it’s not MY job that’s at risk).

3:00

Smarties and Diet Coke. My drug combo. I need rehab.

4:30

I’m out of there.

5:00

Grocery shopping. My favorite kind of shopping. I buy nothing with sugar or flour or caffeine; I’m trying to detox from my crappy week. I limit myself to 5 tomatoes.

6:00

I’m home. There’s a note under my door from my landlord. Everything is fixed. Which means she saw my crappy laundry-strewn decorating style. I love my landlords. Day-of repairs deserves an award.

6:15

Doing laundry. I run into the boy. The one behind my wall. After more than a year and a half, I see him. And he’s very good-looking. Darn. I’m in sweats that are 6 years old (and from +20 pounds ago). I’m the queen of the first impression. No formal introduction, but I think I’ve figured out his name from sorting through the house mail.

7:00

Yoghurt poured over grapes and cut-up apple. And green tea. I feel almost human again. And I Swiffer. Mentally plan an omelet for tomorrow morning. Because I’m a planner.

9:00

Finally done laundry. There’s nothing on TV except Top Chef reruns. So I’m half-watching. Misery is on later. I read the book, so I may watch it. Or I may go to bed. But that means I have to put my sheets back on. I may be tired, but not tired enough to go to all that effort of going to bed….

My Love of Oscar

Okay, so I tied for third in the office Oscar pool. I would have done far better if the person who organized it didn't weight the categories differently. Last year, each successful prediction was worth one point. This year, Best Picture was worth five, smaller technical awards were worth one, and the acting and more prestigious awards fell somewhere inbetween. So even though I picked the surprise win of Marie Antoinette for costumes, I also didn't pick The Departed as best picture. Oh well. I believe the pot was worth a whole $20. I made $26 last year, so I'm still the biggest winner ever.

Some thoughts:

• The Dreamgirls medley was slightly more interesting than the actual movie.
• Helen Mirren was smokin' hot. Not just for her age. She rocked that gown. And totally deserved her win.
• Apparently the Academy is also slightly creeped out by Eddie Murphy (I thought it was just me). Even though he was my pick (I was trying to be strategic; it wasn't a wish list), I was so happy for Alan Arkin. In fact, I bought Little Miss Sunshine today in his honor.
• I love Ellen. I don't care what the critics say, I think she was pleasantly non-offensive. The awards just felt so grown up and classy. I can hardly remember the year of Chris Rock...
• Marty Scorsese deserved it.
  
• I had no idea Clint Eastwood spoke Italian. And I wouldn't mind a photo of him with me on myspace (Ellen's strength: audience interaction).
• When did Jack Nicholson first grab that front-row seat? How does he manage to reserve it every year? And what's with his new Britney-esque (read: no hair) 'do?
• Al Gore has an Oscar. This cracks me up. He was actually one of the most charismatic personalities there.
  
• Oh, Ryan Gosling. You didn't win, but Will Ferrell sang to you. And you sat beside Meryl Streep. So really, you did win.
• I called the screenwriting awards. Now I just need to write something. Or show up on Canadian Idol. But my worst nightmare may come true and I'll have to fend off the advances of Ben Mulroney. So. Much. Gel. (Nah, there's less Ben-hating than there used to be. I think I just want his job).
• Forest Whitaker thanked God. Jennifer Hudson thanked God twice. I'm glad Denzel's not the only one...
  

And semi-Oscar-related thoughts:

• The Independent Spirit Awards were fun. And Ryan won (as did his Half Nelson costar, Shareeka Epps). Best song tribute ever: the Dusty Springfeld-esque "was a crack-headed teacher man." Yeah, go see Half Nelson if you want to see a great indie film.
• Christian Bale is on the cover of GQ. He'll be at the Oscars one day soon.
  
• I swear, people, it's all about Breaker High (Ryan) and Newsies (Christian).
• I bought Little Miss Sunshine and The Devil Wears Prada today. They were super-cheap at Shoppers Drug Mart. Who would have thunk it?
  
• I tried to watch Gone With the Wind yesterday afternoon. But I fell asleep during the opening credits. I guess I was more tired than I thought. I will watch it in 2007. Promise.
• Today, I discovered that pretty much my entire office has an obsession with Ryan Gosling/Rachel McAdams. Someone saw Rachel (pink hair and all) on the subway this weekend (she was working in TO), and all of a sudden, everyone has a McGosling sighting. They know where they eat, where they live, where they rent their DVDs. We are a sad bunch. Boys included. At least I fit in...

Since I stayed up way too late last night, I'm aiming for an early night tonight. Around 2 in the morning, a car alarm in the parking lot outside my window went off. It was one that also accompanied a flashing light. Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess this morning.

Nadine's Predictions

Okay, folks, what you've all been waiting for: 2007 Oscar Predictions from yours truly.
I handed in this list with my toonie at work, so I've got some serious cash riding on its success.

In alphabetical order:

Actor - Leading
Forest Whitaker - THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND

Actor - Supporting
Eddie Murphy - DREAMGIRLS

Actress - Leading
Helen Mirren - THE QUEEN

Actress - Supporting
Jennifer Hudson - DREAMGIRLS

Animated Feature
HAPPY FEET

Art Direction
DREAMGIRLS

Cinematography
CHILDREN OF MEN

Costume Design
MARIE ANTOINETTE

Directing
Martin Scorsese - THE DEPARTED

Documentary Feature
AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH

Documentary Short
TWO HANDS

Film Editing
UNITED 93

Foreign Language Film
PAN'S LABYRINTH

Makeup
PAN'S LABYRINTH

Original Score
THE QUEEN

Original Song
"Listen" - DREAMGIRLS

Best Picture
BABEL

Short Film - Animated
THE DANISH POET

Short Film - Live Action
ERAMOS POCOS (ONE TOO MANY)

Sound Editing
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA

Sound Mixing
DREAMGIRLS

Visual Effects
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST

Screenplay - Adapted
THE DEPARTED

Screenplay - Original
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE

Wednesday

The week is more than half over. For this reason alone, I could celebrate. The weather has also been non-painful, which means that I've actually been getting a little exercise. And Vitamin D. So good.

There was a moment at work today when I put my head down on my desk and muttered to no one in particular (and heard by only a few trusted co-workers), "I don't know if I should kill somebody or take up drinking." And then I went back to work. I did not kill anyone. I did have a Jones soda, though. I figure I'll start with the bottle shape and move up from there :)

On a much lighter, non-doomed note, my name is featured in Variety! Okay, so it's just a passing credit at the end of the Sleeping Dogs review (which is a pretty big deal in the first place), but somehow I was credited as the art director. I am considered "above the line." I am no one's assistant. Of course, this title is completely exaggerated (they gave the actual art director the title of production designer), but I'll take what I can get. Man, I should print that out and put it in a portfolio. I made vomit out of soup and bought polyester suits from Value Village. I love promotions that happen after the fact: no added responsibility.

I ended up getting out of work by 3:15, which was a nice way to end my stressful morning. I also finished my spectacular eggplant & turkey casserole I made this week. Maybe I should go to some Martha Stewart academy. And now I'm mulling over Oscar nominations, trying to make my predictions for the office's pool. I won last year and have a handbag named Oscar to show for it. Unfortunately, the bag's pretty much worn out, so I'm feeling the pressure to win again. I'll post my predictions before the awards air.

Why am I still not on IMDb? My dreams are so small....

Tomorrow

I know that single people are supposed to hate Valentine’s Day, but I don’t. I never have. The only semi-annoying memories I have from the day revolve around me trying to get past awkward adolescents making out by my locker in high school. Apart from that, I’m all for the chocolates, the extra love songs on the radio, and the flimsy My Little Pony cards floating around.

Some joys of Singles’ Awareness Day:

• The “Perfect 10” valentine Ian gave me in kindergarten. I don’t even remember who Ian is, but that card rocked.
• The construction-paper heart envelopes we made every year to hold our cards and goodies. During class time. Public school rocked.
• The candygram from Christian Bale.
• The year I convinced someone that my boyfriend didn’t believe in sending chocolates. I had some sympathy for about five minutes. Until the guy realized that I didn’t have a boyfriend the day before.
• “Boy Free Since ’83.” I made that shirt in university. I could have made a fortune selling them.
• Oh, the Campus Crusade Love Panel. So much fun. Too bad I wasn’t on it. The single girl always got scooped up shortly after.
• The red and pink Smarties box hidden in my luggage when I went to Quebec in grade 8.
• Candy is pretty. And then it goes on sale.
• My grandma gave me a valentine on Sunday. Care Bears. It’s a nostalgia hug.
• Chick flicks are on TV, and I don’t have to worry about comparing the lead with the guy beside me.
• It’s a quasi-holiday that breaks up the winter. Sure, you don’t get the day off, but the mall makes you feel like there’s a holiday anyway.
• If you don’t spend the day with a significant other, it keeps the day free from messy memories of Valentine’s being spent with an ex. I’ll never get weirded out by memories of watching TV on the 14^th.

Jessica Simpson Is No Ebert

Jessica Simpson confuses me. I realize that's not the most shocking revelation, but the other day, I ran across an interview with her that really stumped me. I shall share my bewilderment with you all.

First, some background: I'm a fan of The Notebook. I don't really care if you don't. Sure, it's unapologetically sappy and sentimental and a little idealistic, but it also looks at the other side of "happily ever after." It looks at love as something worth fighting for. It doesn't exempt it from some pretty painful stuff.

My love for the Ryan Gosling/Rachel McAdams team aside, I think the opening line pretty much sums up the flick/book:

I am a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.
Book.

The movie makes me cry. And then makes me want to get married so I can grow old and die with someone. It does not make me want to get divorced. At all. So this is why I'm confused:

Simpson and Lachey, 33, starred in the MTV reality show, "Newlyweds: Nick & Jessica." She filed for divorce in December 2005, after three years of marriage.

She made that decision, she says, after watching the 2004 romance "The Notebook" on a plane ride home to Texas. "I just figured out the statement," she says of the movie, starring Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams as star-crossed lovers. "It was about that moment of desperation. I needed to breathe."

Source.

Has Jessica Simpson ever seen a movie before? "I figured out the statement." She must have some sort of film interpretation skill that is so beyond mine. I thought it was about enduring love. What statement? That she should leave her husband? "Moment of desperation"? Sure, Allie realizes that the man she's about to marry may not be "the one," but this conclusion is reached BEFORE marriage. And then they stick it out together.

My brain hurts just trying to make sense of her.

I wonder if she thought the statement in Braveheart was that she should conform to corrupt authority. I mean, clearly Wallace's fate was meant as a cautionary tale...

My Brain is Tired

I’m not very good at blogging consistently. By the time I sit down at my computer, I’m tired of both computer screens and the thoughts that have been mulling in my head all day. Therefore, my exhaustion robs you of my brilliant insights. I’m also hesitant to write much about other people, as I read this article about a guy who started dating a girl who blogged about her sexual conquests and found himself as that week’s topic of discussion. Not that anyone in my life would have such a thing to fear…

I just wanted to clarify as to why these entries are so Nadine-centered. Besides, it’s my blog. Straight from my brain. I find the “me”-ness appropriate.

Today’s thoughts:

1. Only Rachel McAdams can get away with pink highlights.

2. Thanks to JPod, I’m now wondering about the personal life of Ronald McDonald.

3. If you buy frozen chicken that says “seasoned,” it means that there’s salt added. So don’t add your own. You will be thirsty for the rest of the week.

4. Abigail Breslin brought cookies in her purse to the SAG awards. We would totally be best friends if I was 10. Or if I was 23 and lived in L.A.

5. There’s a lady on the subway who wears the most impractical stilettos every morning. And they click in a way that tells me they’re cheap and uncomfortable. I like my big black winter boots. Super sexy.

6. My hair is growing out, making the unevenness of my last cut incredibly obvious. You know when grade-schoolers decide to cut their own hair? That’s my current look.

7. The blond Bond was quite entertaining. I did find it amusing that the writers, in attempting to redeem some of the predictable objectifying-of-women stuff found in most Bond films, chose to have 007 naked far more often than any of the women.

8. When they say that Pan’s Labyrinth is an adult fairy tale, they mean, “This will scar your children.” And if you can’t stand to watch a man stitching up his own sliced-open face, you shouldn’t go either. Squirming aside, it was pretty amazing.

9. I turned down a month-long trip to the Philippines because I didn’t actually want to work when I got there. My boss first interpreted it as my being scared to go alone. He then interpreted it to mean that I don’t like training in general, and that someone else should take over for me in Toronto as well. Training English majors in Ontario is very different from training quasi-English-speakers in the Philippines. But that’s my boss.

10. I have a new cell phone. So far, it has not randomly died in the middle of a conversation.

11. I would like to be British when I grow up.

12. I check my email too often.

13. Katie Holmes has apparently turned down the Batman sequel. Part of me doubts she was officially offered it. And part of me isn’t really into brainwashing husbands. If I ever marry Tom Cruise, please shoot me. If you can find me…

14. Sometimes I work on really cool stuff at work and I’m not allowed to tell you about it. But most of the time, I work on really crappy stuff and I’m still not allowed to tell you about it. I will say that I worked on Joan Crawford’s last feature film and it was craptastic to the utmost degree.

15. Most touching breakup line ever: “I’ll always remember you as the guy who gave me my first burrito.” Nineties TV rocks.

16. I wish I knew how to play poker. And had poker friends to play with. And was a celebrity so I could play poker with my friends on TV.

17. Anyone catch the musical Scrubs episode? Pure brilliance. Now I want a musical CSI.

Doing a Little Happy Dance

Ryan Gosling was nominated for an Oscar this morning.

Par-tay.

I've been tagged

I've been tagged by on coffee:
His instructions are as follows:

1) Grab the book closest to you.
2) Open to page 123, go down to the fourth sentence.
3) Post the text of the following three sentences.
4) Name the author and book title.
5) Tag three people to do the same.

Prinderella praced with the dince all night long, but at the moke of stridmight she ran down the stalace peps and slopped the dripper.

Isn't that a shirty dame?

The next day the ping issued another croclamation that all the geglible irls in the kingdom should sly on the tripper.

-Get Thee to a Punnery by Richard Lederer

I tag Beth, Andrea and Ben.

Hanging with Spielberg and McLaren

This weekend, I watched Schindler’s List for the first time. I also finished reading More Ready Than You Realize. Honestly, the combination of the two probably moved and inspired me more than church typically does. Which is no big feat. Most of you know that I struggle with finding a real church home here. Probably because Jesus doesn’t show up at many of them.

I’ll start with the book, which is centered on emails from Alice to the author, Brian McLaren. Near the end, Alice writes:

You know, all the logic and reasoning that people always say about Jesus, that he “MUST” have been the son of God, that if he wasn’t, he was a lunatic or a liar, that they’ve found proof, blah, blah blah,….. it is just so lame, in my eyes, [compared] to feeling like your heart is going to explode when you start to see just how wonderful Jesus is… when you start to understand Jesus ISNT dead. I never understood that. I think a major part of my little epiphany was realizing that God is so far beyond all that petty logic and knowledge. At least, that’s how it is for me. I’m sure for other people, the logic is great. But when proof stops at logic for me, it is pretty lame.

For three years of my life, I was a hardcore Campus Crusader. I am still super-supportive of the organization and am so proud of the friends who’ve gone on to join staff with them. I did, however, find myself uncomfortable at times, and I don’t think it was just because I was being stretched. I was frustrated with the approaches to evangelism. I am not an intellectual. I’m not into debates and proof and trying to argue someone into heaven. Surveys with results that are never tallied drive me crazy. I don’t really care if someone saw The Passion or if Oprah is helping or hurting the kingdom. I care about people. Real people. People who may never make a decision to follow Christ but need a friend just the same. God is beyond “all that petty logic and knowledge.” Experiencing God is so much greater than figuring out if this is a life of predestination or free will.

I was moved by McLaren’s friendship with Alice. He didn’t assume anything, nor did he tell her what to believe. He answered her questions carefully, often with other questions. He allowed her to serve in ways she felt comfortable, without ever requiring a statement of faith or sitting her down with some committee. She was loved and she was heard. And God did the rest. In no way did his book suggest that I have the right to be lazy in my relationships or to remain silent when my voice is called for. But it did give me permission to live like Jesus instead of trying to convince others why they should. He described evangelism as a dance. I've always wanted to be a dancer...

Then I watched Schindler’s List.

“Whoever saves one life, saves the world entire.”

It may have been perfect.

I may have been the last film buff on the planet to seen this film. I read the book in high school, but managed to miss every opportunity to view it. Then I rented it months ago, and the DVD skipped all over the place. Now, all is well.

I love that Schindler was a criminal. A sinner. He operated from selfish motives; he was riddled with character flaws. And he helped save a generation. His own personal redemption was almost as touching as the gratitude the thousands had for his fight for their lives.

There’s a song by Ray Boltz (late ‘80s CCM, for the unaware) that speculates how awesome it will be in heaven to see the lives we’ve touched. Schindler was given a slice of that on earth, only to be humbled to tears and broken that he didn’t save one more. Not many movies are both chilling and inspirational.

I almost made it through without crying. And then the epilogue happened.

If you haven’t seen it, you must. If you have, go watch it again.

9 Reasons to Love Toronto

Whenever I meet non-Torontonians, there seems to be a general response of disbelief that a single woman who was raised in a small town has no qualms about living and working in the heart of Canada’s largest city. What they don’t realize, is that by taking the same routes daily, you create your own little community. I have my favorite places where people say hi and comment on the weather just as they would in a small town. I’m trying to explore more (something that will most likely come with spring weather), but I’m quite content with my downtown-meets-Greektown life. Here are a few reasons why:

• Bus stop friends. Yes, I have them. Nancy and Nick. They’re both from out East. Nancy lives alone and feeds the squirrels every morning. Nick is a family man who’s taking his kids out of school tomorrow to go skiing. Oh, and he’s taking his wife to Paris for her 40^th birthday. The bus stop is where it’s at, I tell you.
• The convenience store guy. There’s a little convenience store in the building next to my work. He’s the friendliest man ever, and because I’m there way too often, he notices when I change my brand of soft drink or if I style my hair differently (without being creepy about it). And every time I say, “Have a nice day,” he has to one-up me with, “Have a very nice day.”
• Rainbow Cinemas. Tuesdays are $4.24. Enough said.
• The Metro. I love the free little newspaper I pick up every morning. On my way to work, I skim all the headlines I’m interested in. On the way home, I do the crossword and Sudoku. And then I recycle.
• Libraries. So much to absorb. So little pain to my wallet.
• The TTC. I know a lot of people complain about it, and yes, it can be crowded and inconsistent and dirty. I enjoy the fact that I can sit on the subway and not think of a thing at 7:15 in the morning. In fact, there are mornings I wish I didn’t have to get off, so I could just sit in my little daze for a little while longer.
• TTC drivers. I conducted a social experiment. The conclusion? If you thank the driver, there’s an increased chance that the person behind you will do the same. One driver on my daily route commented that he saw me walking with my groceries the other day and thought it was great that I opted for some exercise.
• You never have to eat at the same place twice. Unless you want to. Or you’re lazy. Or poor. Or on foot. And cold. And wet.
• CityTV. Man, you have to love a city that shuts down a major downtown street for a Mary-Kate and Ashley interview.

Children of Men

It was one of the darkest, bleakest, most despairing films I’ve seen in a while.

And then I was moved by a miracle. Hope showed up.

Go see it.

Award Season.

It’s that season again. The Golden Globes were on last night, and unfortunately, it was relatively upset free. I think I was the only one who wanted to see Ben Affleck win (just to shock the cinematic world). I called the double Helen Mirren win. And the Babel win. Warren Beatty tried far too hard to be funny. In fact, actors usually bore me when they’re stuck speaking their own words. Of course, Meryl Streep and Sacha Baron Cohen were entertaining (I called those two wins as well), but it was Hugh Laurie who stole the show. I swear Brits are just way cooler than the rest of us.

"People are falling all over themselves to send you free shoes and free cuff links and colonic irrigations for two. Nobody ever offers you a free acceptance speech. There just seems to be a gap in the market. I would love to be able to pull out a speech by Dolce & Gabbana."

''I know everyone says they have a wonderful crew and logically that can't be the case and they can't all be wonderful. Somebody, somewhere, is working with a crew of drunken thieves.''

– Hugh Laurie, winner for House

More thoughts on the season will follow in the weeks to come. Here's hoping for an Oscar nod for Ryan Gosling...

The Boy Behind My Wall Pt.2

Now it's the TV. And bongo drums.

Help me. Somebody. Take me away to where the night is silent and morning does not scream me awake at 6.

The Boy Behind My Wall

I decided to go to bed early this evening, even ignoring the People's Choice Awards (the lamest of the award season). I'm exhausted, my head hurts, and I'm feeling downright lousy.

The boy does not know this.

Tonight is a Tuesday night. It is not a night that should involve the blaring of music. Nor should it involve four of his buddies singing along with that blaring music. Nor should it involve his playing the guitar while the buddies sing along to the blaring music.

I threw a pillow at the wall. Hard. It must not have sounded very threatening. His party continues.

I live next door to a bar. So does he. He should sing along with the blaring music there. Maybe the old Greek men will even buy him a drink.

And I should sleep. I can't even read. The singing on the other side of the wall is so bad, I can't remember the previous paragraph.

Wait. A moment of silence. Maybe he got my pillow message after all...

Recent Movies

A quick summary of my movie-watching habits over the past few weeks.

Little Miss Sunshine
Superb. Original. Even splendid. Yes, folks, this one lives up to the hype. And Steve Carell’s performance may be that of the greatest suicidal homosexual Proust scholar ever brought to the big screen. I wish I wrote it.

The Queen
Helen Mirren will win Best Actress at the Oscars this year. I promise you. I almost forgot what the real queen looked like.

While You Were Sleeping
Okay, so I’ve seen this one a few times. It’s a very different movie when you’re not 14, though. I can actually relate to the sometimes-patheticness of being single in the city. I have not yet pretended to be engaged to a man in a coma. That will be 2008.

It’s a Wonderful Life
It’s not Christmas without George Bailey. Love it. It’s probably unhealthy, my enthusiasm for this film. That abandoned mansion is my dream house. Minus the draft.

Blood Diamond
It’s pretty heavy. And if you’re all about the bling, you may have to rethink your next diamond purchase after viewing this one. Surprisingly, Leo DiCaprio’s South African accent stopped bugging me after the first half hour or so. And I’m woman enough to admit that Jennifer Connelly is uber-gorgeous. If you're in the mood for comedy, this might not be the flick for you. It made me think, so it gets my recommendation.

The Lord of the Rings (the trilogy)
I watched one a day for three days. I hadn’t seen the third since the theatre (all I could remember was, “You bow to no one.”) so it was great to see them again, and in relatively quick succession. Very inspiring. I either want to be a filmmaker or a hobbit. Or an elf who marries a man who doesn't let hobbits bow down to him.

The Goonies
When I was young, I couldn’t make it through this film. I was at a sleepover, and all the little girls (myself very much included) were terrified. We chose to watch My Girl again instead. I figured that at 23, I should be able to handle it now. It was actually quite fun, almost a cross between Indiana Jones and Stand by Me. Sean Astin’s had a pretty enviable career (only including Encino Man if you’re really tired and delirious. Then Pauly Shore's remarks about his pancreas are hilarious).

Dreamgirls
I have a confession to make: I left work early today to go to the movies. I seem to have contracted some viral form of ADD, and after 7.5 hours of staring at my computer screen, I could no longer pay attention to what I was doing. And since they all love me at work and want to make sure I’m happy, no one objected to my leaving. Here’s the deal: it’s pretty much just about the music. I mean, it’s a Broadway musical on the big screen. It was entertaining, but it didn’t challenge how I see the world, and the film left my consciousness pretty quickly. I’m also a little confused by all the acting nominations it’s receiving this awards season since musical talent seemed to upstage the acting. Especially in the Beyoncé department. She is not the star. Eddie Murphy (usually, I’m no fan) was pretty darn amazing, but it was Jennifer Hudson (American Idol reject) who knocked my socks off. I left the theatre wanting to be a big, beautiful black woman with ridiculous pipes. She’ll see some awards, and she actually deserves them. One of her songs actually garnered a standing ovation at one of the film’s premieres. Her performances in the film were worth the admission.

Holiday Recap

I haven’t blogged in a while, and oddly enough, I don’t really feel like trying to remember all the details of the past few weeks. I’ll try to stick to the randomness of highlights and odd thoughts:

1. I got to stay in my old room. Fabulousness. Considering the weekend before Christmas I ended up sharing a room with Nathan, it was nice to have a place of my own for the holidays. Not that I spent much time in it. I’m not used to the distractions that come with living with people. Many, many late nights.
2. I have a new umbrella. It’s yellow. If anyone gets this one confused with their roommate’s black one, I may have to press charges.
3. I saw Andrea (who promptly returned to S. Korea)!
4. There is something very exciting about counter space. For those who have seen my almost-kitchen, you understand. I spent a lot of time with Mom in the kitchen.
5. My family pretty much rocks. Extended included.
6. I got a raise. A whole $2/hr more. Yeah, I’m rolling in the dough.
7. It’s a Wonderful Life was considered a box-office failure when it was first released and essentially ended Frank Capra’s career. Thought you might want to know (Jimmy Stewart is my new dead-man crush. No disrespect to the loved-always Gene Kelly).
8. I am proud to say that Dick Clark was not a part of my New Year’s. And parents are perfectly suitable partiers.
9. It’s fun to watch movies with people. Even just hanging out on the couch is more fun when you’re not sitting by yourself.
10. I want to start a line of extremely long pajama pants. Those of you with long legs, I expect your business.
11. I now own JPod. I’m trying to make myself finish the two books I’m currently reading before I pick it up, but it’s tough. I have dreamt of this book (not literally. Maybe literarily).
12. I finally got to see Nathan’s apartment in Peterborough. Much bigger than mine. And he can control his heat. If his roommate will let him turn it on.
13. I saw a man in a denim suit. Wendy’s rule of “no denim with denim” kept running through my head, but the guy pulled it off.
14. Joel now lives in my room. So while it was fun to have a bed over the holidays, it no longer is an option for me. Not that this is anything new.