Quote of the day- New Years Eve edition

"Celine Dion is basically the White Canadian Puff Daddy."

(I leave it to all of you to brainstorm the similarities. Alcohol may help the process along. And, please, spare me the update on Puffy's latest name.)

Quote of the day

"Let me define klutz for you. Klutz = Princess + anything with the potential to stain + an important meeting in the next three hours."

-The Duke

Compliment of the day

Received today in an email:

"Your neuroses are of endless benefit to those of us who lack that kind of focus."

Score one for neurotics!

Quote of the day (or the one in which I realize I am nearing spinsterhood)

"You should stop this nonsense and get yourself married."

- Comment with regards to my professional life heard today

The one in which I give Skeelo a run for his money

This weekend was just flat out wonderful.

One reason?
I spent it here:


Another reason?

I spent it with some of the most fantastic people I have ever had the fortune of knowing.

(which one do you think is me?)

And, most importantly, I witnessed an amazing friend make the most beautiful bride, and I saw in her groom's eyes that he recognized it, too.

Lest you think I am just some concentrated form of sap, I am not one of those generic "I-wuv-weddings" type of girl. In fact, after the last wedding we attended, I found myself wondering if I had perhaps became a little jaded, for outside of some more detached appreciations of certain moments, I wasn't having the typical warm and fuzzy emotional pangs. However, even the stoic Duke himself noted that this was a particularly lovely wedding. And he was one of the only dry eyes in the house during the speeches.

Other highlights and lowlights of the weekend?

The weekend kicked off with eight of us poured into one mini-van. While some would have sulked at the prospect of being forced to wait for a ferry in such close quarters, we celebrated by drinking red wine out of to-go coffee cups while in line.

Most of the tiny island was taken over by visitors for the wedding. Not only did we have every hotel room booked, but we also took over the local bar the night before the wedding, where someone plugged in their musical disgrace of an iPod, leaving us to dance the night away to hip-hop AC/DC remixes and Whigfield's Saturday Night. My guy, however, was impressed by my lyrical knowledge of Welcome to the Jungle.

Songs officially banned from my wedding? The Chicken Dance, the Macarena and the Hokey Pokey.

The lyrics to "I Wish I Was a Little Bit Taller" and "Shoop" are pretty much permanently imprinted in my brain. However, even better is the interpretive dances that accompany them when I have drunk multiple glasses of wine.

Sometimes gender contrasts are way too stereotypical. Exemplary of this fact is the 40-something woman who literally dove and collided with other people's ankles to frantically grab the bouquet, while the men had to be herded onto the floor to catch the garter.

Asshat of the wedding award clearly went to the fellow who was actually doing a running commentary of shit-talking during the wedding. Not only did he let out overexasperated sighs during certain portions of the ceremony, when my friend stood up to do a reading, he snarkily whispered "How much do you want to bet it's from Corinthian?" I also learned due to forced eavesdropping that he came down the aisle for his own wedding to "Eye of the Tiger". Seriously.

Warm and fuzzy part of the weekend? When the bride gave me and our close friends special engraved wooden boxes, and told us that they contained the key to a box we would get for our own wedding, which included a special garter that we were all to wear on our special day.

Quote of the weekend? 

The scene: Three of us discussing the incarnations of bacon in different countries.

J: Bacon strips taste different in the US than they do in Canada.

The Duke: That's because bacon from Canada is made from children's dreams.

Me: Mmm, I taste unicorns!

(Psst... ummnowwhat.com. Do it.)

Quotes and other such randomisity

"He's got the metabolism of a centaur!"

- Yours truly

(You've never seen a fat centaur, have you?  Or a real one. )

***

Upon me making small talk with a former classmate about his heavy course load over the upcoming semester...

"Yeah, it's really busy, but I have a lot more time on my hands now that I don't have a girlfriend anymore."

In and of itself, I know this isn't that odd of a statement. But considering I've never once mentioned relationships, my weekend plans, my lunch... hell, anything besides course related brain chemistry to him, and anything more than one minute in length, it was a painfully awkward moment.

My reply, after an obligatory awkward pause? "Well, school will be your girlfriend now."

***

Asshat of the week award goes to people who talk on cell phones at the gym.

I can't decide who is worse-- the woman who seemingly just goes to the gym so she can call people to tell them she is at the gym, while she lazily does a rep or two while sitting on my coveted ab machine for 10 minutes....

(If you can hold down a conversation while working out, you're doing it wrong)

OR

The woman who was running at least 6 miles an hour, on an incline, with two books and papers spread out all over the screen of the treadmill, while talking on the phone. I had visions of a YouTube worthy series of injuries occurring with bad gym 90s techno serving as the soundtrack.

***

A pen spontaneously exploded in my hand today. The less comical part of this is that the white cardigan I am wearing to a wedding this weekend has been smeared blue (hey, at least it provided some variability from my typical coffee stains). 

The more comical part of this is that it somehow leaked into my bag, where I had stored my "professional" clippy-cloppy high heeled shoes for seeing clients, so that I could wear flip flops for most of the day. More specifically, it spilled right onto one heel, which I didn't notice until the entire hallway of the clinic was polka-dotted with navy splotches.

***

I am away this weekend to a fabulous little island getaway for a very close friend's wedding (and somehow fitting in ridiculous amounts of course reading between drinks). However, upon my return (Monday to be specific), I have some very big bloggie news--- so stay tuned!!

Quote of the day and other ways to waste time in an airport

"If there is one ironic truth about my life, it's how bitter my own medicine is."

- The Duke

I know. My man is damn quote worthy. It's one hell of a trait in a boyfriend.

***

I've only had a couple sips of coffee, aka my creativity juice, as of yet.

Just apologizing in advance.

Pros of morning flights: 

No line-ups for security.

Customs guy is too tired to question my sexuality.

I'm able to enjoy sunshine at my destination.

Cons of morning flights:

5:30am wake-ups.

Airport Tim Horton's decided that fruit and yogurt are not on the menu, meaning I'm nearly in a carb coma at 8am.

I have a hard time with basic balance on a good day. Try me at a security gate, barefooted, sleepy, caffeine free, trying to manage armloads of bags. 

***

So, yes, my North American gallivanting continues, as in less than an hour, I should be floating somewhere above your heads on my way to Chicago.

... maybe flipping through a Skymall catalogue?

I have been mighty bloggie MIA as of late, getting all my work out of the way for this trip, and that will probably continue for a little while longer, unfortunately. It doesn't help that I also began running a new study last week which, while being very exciting from a geek standpoint, also means that most of my online time lately has been spent recruiting and replying to participants. This leaves me about as excited to spend more time in front of a computer afterwards as I would be to listen to ShaqFu on repeat.

I hate Shaq with the fire of a million suns.

HATE.

But I love sweet, sweet coffee. So I should probably step away from the keyboard and drink some.

The one in which I discover my low kidnappability score

Me: Hey, could you help me get unplug my phone charger from behind the dresser?

Him: Why do you need it for such a short time?

Me: I don't want my phone to die when I'm gone.

Him: *rolls eyes*

Me: What happens if you try to call me and it's dead?

Him: Then I know your phone died.

Me: How do you know I wasn't kidnapped by gypsies?

Him: That wouldn't happen.

Me: Why not?

Him: Gypsies are very selective, honey.

Quotes of the Day and Leaving on a Greyhound

"Having no memories is kind of great, because my past self constantly surprises and delights me." -- the Duke

....after I reminded him of this interaction, in which we were talking about how everyone wants to be perceived as unique:

Me: "In what ways am I like other girls?"

Him: "Cheese and Jack Johnson."

Touche.

***

I'm strapping on my knapsack in 20 minutes and hopping a Greyhound to Seattle for my weekend with Distracted Spunk! Will tremendous hijinks ensue? Stay tuned to find out what happens when bloggers collide!!

Quote of the day and a shower of bullets

"If I won the lottery, I would hire David Attenborough to narrate my life for a day."

-The Duke

(Please, some of my fellow geeks, tell me you know who that is. Planet Earth is like the coolest documentary series EVER.)

***

My mind seems to be working in point form these days. My tendencies towards rumination aren't exactly my best hidden trait-- most of what is running through my mind these days is "How am I moving in a week? And how many boxes can this pedestrian wonder and transit queen reasonably carry from a store at once?" Unfortunately, while there are numerous sources of boxes to be scavenged in the city, my wee little arms can only haul so many at once, so I am still woefully under-boxed. 

For those inquiring minds, the Duke and I are moving in together (or taking the cohabitation plunge, as I dubbed it previously). We've found a lovely apartment in one of those three story walk-up buildings that looks like a box on the outside, and has horrendous purple carpeting in the hallways and stairwell, but is surprisingly fantastic in the suite. He is now seeing me in my full neurotic glory, as I query about how many bowls he has, and what we should name our future fish (we decided to go with classic theorists in our disciplines, meaning one will be named Sigmund).

Anyways, if you haven't figured out already, a moving Princess = very bad blogging Princess (it's science, dammit!). However, I am trying to pull out at least a few random thoughts, in an exceedingly stilted manner...

• Best drinking game ever? Drinking every time a hockey announcer uses a double entendre to describe the ongoing game. For instance, today "squirting" was the descriptive term of choice whenever the puck was deflected, and the puck apparently "rimmed" the boards.
• A friend of mine has a bit of a camping phobia. As such, in a move an exposure therapist would be proud of, she decided to prepare herself for an upcoming summer festival by setting up a tent in the middle of her living room. I arrived to find her and another friend drinking in the tent, with all her furniture piled in a corner, with the window open to simulate the cold, a lamp overhanging the tent to simulate the moon, and fake palm fronds on top to simulate cedar trees.
• It's intriguing how archived text messages provide such an interesting snapshot of a person's life. As I was packing, I found my old cell phone, which had around 150 text messages stored from a year and a half ago. It was like a weird one-sided time capsule.
• Frosty floats from Wendy's are nowhere near as delicious as you'd expect.
• Am I one of the only women on the planet who is comfortable with my boyfriend having female friends? I'm beginning to get suspicious, as whenever I make coffee plans with a male friend (who I've known on very platonic terms for 6 years now), it seems like something comes up with his new wife that prevents our meeting. I still haven't determined if this is coincidence or deliberate-- but we have another scheduled meeting on Tuesday night, so I guess time will tell....
• 
  
• And disturbing pop culture news of the week? A new book entitled My Beautiful Mommy. Not beautiful on her own, mind you-- this book is intended to help children come to terms with their mother having plastic surgery. In some ways, I guess I can understand the need, as it has to be scary for a child to see their mother covered in bandages, yet not explicitly harmed. However, even more aversive than the simple fact that there is a sufficient need for such a book is the fact that it has a happy ending in which everyone celebrates because "Mommy is even more beautiful!" 
• An excerpt: "You see, as I got older, my body stretched and I couldn't fit into my clothes anymore. Dr. Michael is going to help fix that and make me feel better." (Ironically, Mommy appears to be wearing a crop top in even her hideous pre-surgery state.)
• What they forgot to say: "Because there really is no other way to make me feel better about myself than Dr. Michael's solution. And you know mommy is too busy to exercise. At least it isn't like back in grandma's day, when you were stuck as ugly forever and ever!"

Quotes of the day (or introducing Americans to poutine)

It feels as though the last post sucked me dry. It had been following me along for so long, initially as a series of scattered ideas, then as a handful of metaphors and memories in my draft folder. It was almost as though the catharsis was too effective, leaving my brain a little barren. It's scary to think that my typing fingers may be getting a little rusty...

However, there's nothing like a bachelorette party for a few random anecdotes...

***

"My bum is jealous."

After some pre-drinking, I had my first stripper experience.

While I'm not the type of person to be uptight about nudity, I always found the notion of women going to see female strippers a bit too cliche. It seemed sort of like making out with a girlfriend on a table at a night club-- more about the attention than the actual experience. However, celebrating a friend's last big hurrah before her May wedding seemed as good of an excuse for nudity as any.

And so I found myself sitting in pervert's row, watching a woman dressed as a mermaid dance to "Kiss the Girl". My childhood memories wishing I was Ariel seemed a little corrupt at that moment-- Disney gone wild indeed.

The specific quote came out of my mouth after Officer Kyla shook her assets in my face. Seriously, there's nothing like high class exotic dancers to motivate you to get to the gym-- and to learn to use the monkey bars in a whole new way.

***

"I can feel the drool running down the cheese curds."

After the strippers, we made our way to a night club, where the bride-to-be was subject to a list of tasks in order to generate points. For instance, building a man's sexual anatomy was worth 2 points, getting a piggy back from a stranger was worth 15 points, and getting a man to put money in your bra was worth 50 points. Although technically she just had to obtain 60 points to be declared a "groovy chick", and 121 to be a party girl, as the bride to be put it "I'm a grad student, therefore I'm a perfectionist. I'm not stopping 'til I get total vixen status!"

Unfortunately, if there's anything consistent about bachelorette parties, it's the power of a goofy veil to bring out the sleezy men. My technique? Trying to convince would be suitors that I was actually 37 years old with 3 kids at home. 

After several hours of drinking, it was decided that the night wouldn't be complete without some late night poutine.

This actually was an initiation of sort for a number of the party-goers, who were from the States-- including the bride-to-be. You can distinguish between the Americans and the Canadians simply by virtue of whether they think fries smothered in gravy and cheese are a craveworthy midnight snack. The lady of the night looked rather appalled as we dove in. However, most humourous was when a friend (also a poutine virgin) made the declaration above, as he desperately tried to suck in dangling melted cheese curds. 

***

"If I had a day like in Groundhog's Day, where you know you get to relive it over again with no one remembering, I would make it my mission to unpop as many collars as possible."

Just a random observation on my part while enjoying crepes on a sunny patio this morning.

Quotes of the day

A few snippets from my past few days...

The Scene: Making a salad.

The quote:"Is it even possible to unwrap a long english cucumber without it looking dirty?"

***

The Scene: A fellow grad student brought her *adorable* baby to a meeting. 

The quote: "He makes my womb tingle."

***

The Scene: Watching late night TV, when we come across yet another Maury special on "I don't know which of the five men I work with is the father of my triplets".

Me: "If we have a kid, let's name him Maury."

The Duke: "No, let's name him Murray."

Me: "Oh no! That means he's destined to have a mustache!"

***

I am still officially MIA, unfortunately. Don't let these snippets fool you. I'm just on a self-imposed 15 minute break from my exciting Saturday of mad essay-tizing and report writing (which, sadly, also defined my Friday night.  Who says your 20s aren't about debauchery and irresponsibility?)

Also, despite the preponderance of quotes regarding children, my biological clock is not actually in hyper-speed. I'm having a hard time remembering to buy toilet paper at the moment, so the notion of another living being's well-being in my hands is more than a little disconcerting.

Quotes of the day- Gender stereotypes edition

The scene: Post-dinner at a friend's house, playing Taboo (if you aren't familiar with it, basically you have to get your team member to guess a word without saying the top five words associated with it- e.g., get them to guess "Frequent Flier" without saying "airline", "plane", "miles", "travel" or "discount")-- boys vs. girls.

The players: The Duke, myself, female friend (cleverly deemed Girl) and male friend (cleverly deemed Boy).

***

Boy: New England's quarterback's name with the last syllable taken off!

The Duke: Uh...Braid!

Boy: Yes!

***

A few minutes later...

Me: What a princess rides!

Girl (without missing a beat): A unicorn!

Me: Right!

Boy: How on earth did you get that so fast?

Girl: There really are only two options to what a princess rides... a unicorn or a Pegasus.

***

Could we be anymore stereotypical?

Quote of the day and icicles

"Random kisses are of the utmost importance."

That's right, folks, I'm back-- and sappy.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that jazz :).

***

I have completed which is hopefully my last Greyhound trip *ever*.

(Knock on wood.)

As we were unloading my suitcases stuffed with butter tarts in every possible gap, I commented to my father that the number of people waiting nearly guaranteed that I would have to share a seat with someone, meaning a serious lack of slumber. He told me to be optimistic. I told him that after three canceled flights and a stolen credit card over the holidays, I had officially given up on optimism.

Ironically enough, the trip started reasonably well.

The bus was busy, given the epic failure of any flights to depart for days, but with a more eclectic and safe feeling crowd than the usual night bus crew.

Plus, one of my close friends, whose ride had, unbeknownst to me, fallen through, happened to saunter onto the bus at the stop after I hopped on, providing me with a fabulous traveling companion.

As I stared out the window into the darkness, headphones on, nearing the halfway point, I thought "Maybe this won't be as horrible as I predicted after all".

But, alas, I spoke to soon.

Not only were we painfully behind schedule due to the slush squelching beneath the bus wheels, but, soon after that little bout of optimism, we were stopped by the police in the middle of the highway, and told we would have to wait for a sand truck to arrive, because the roads were an ice rink of sorts.

And there we waited for an hour.

We arrived at the transfer point more than two hours behind schedule. When a bus finally arrived (as we'd long ago missed the connecting bus), we marched on in a daze, only to receive the announcement that there was still no driver on the premises. Delirious, given it was past 1 am, I started laughing hysterically at this point.

We arrived. Eventually. With a fitful sleep in between that led to me actually having bruised knees due to ill-placed arm rests.

And, a very thankful girl, I crawled into my own bed at 8am, and curled up against the warm body who had been waiting for me for nearly two days (or several weeks, depending which way you look at it).

***

The unhappy ending to this story is that, because of this unforeseen delay, I have been forced to compact all my errands, unpacking, preparation, and, yes, romance, into a much shorter time than planned. Grad student life waits for no one, apparently.

So I leave you all with a few more shots of my trip, namely the phenomenal icicle decorating my parents' house, and promises that I will have less mundane tales and be around to visit soon.

Quote of the day

"Oh no! There's a hipster outside of American Apparel begging for accessories!"

~ The Duke

***

Tonight is my! birthday! party!

(my actual birthday isn't until the 18th)

So I'm wearing my prettiest dress and getting ready to live it up! Hope everyone else has a fabulous Friday!

Quote of the day (or why I love my sister)

"Your chance at another date would have been greatly increased had I not found woman's lingerie and a condom wrapper down the side of your bed."

~ My delightfully articulate younger sister

This reminds me of one of the many reasons I adore her so-- her amazing skills at "telling-it-like-it-is" when it counts. This is the same girl, who, at 11 years old, called up my 16-year old (*cough* tremendous asshole) boyfriend and told him off for treating me so poorly.

This is not to say I didn't defend her honour on more than a few occasions. I distinctly remember a friend and I cornering some 14-year old boy in the library, and, while forcing him up against the Dewey decimalized stacks, informing him that there were going to be serious consequences if his bitter lies about my sister didn't cease. Keep in mind I weighed about 100 lbs in high school and epitomized pacifist in nearly every sense of the word.

But family is one of those things that trumps moral codes, isn't it?

~~~~

* And for those of you looking for detail, no, the subject of this quote was not her boyfriend, per se, but, seriously, dude, have a little consideration and at least clean up after yourself before trying to woo another woman.

Quote of the day

"If you were to forget the difference between a bus driver and a gynecologist, you'd be in a whole lotta' trouble."

Quote of the day

"I think the only valid use for cake is as a holder for icing."

***

Been having a lovely mini-holiday so far. I have some fun anecdotes to tell, including one about the twin of one of everyone's favourite country stars-- but the sun is finally out, so I have some serious frolicking to catch up on!

Quotes of the night- Out of the mouth of my boyfriend whilst drinking in my hometown edition

"Bites are like kisses... with teeth."

"Just a lesson for you ladies: Dick trumps heart everytime."

(I'm assuming sarcasm played a role in these statements... but with him I'm not always terribly sure.)

Quote of the night

"When I get married, you can get my poutine."