Wedding Bliss-ters

What a wonderful wedding weekend this turned out to be. Plus-zero weather, beautiful sunlight streaming in the church through the colourful stained glass windows, and a night of plenty of good eats and treats and Dancing the night away.

I should have taken off my shoes but otherwise no complaints. Everyone was beautiful.

The only mar on the day was our hotel experience. We came in at 1 a.m., careful not to be too loud in the hall in deference to our... obnoxiously loud neighbours? They were partying it up for a lot of the night, some even chatting directly outside our door.

In the morning, we found out they were parents because they let their kids out at 7:30 am to go running up and down the hall, screaming until all their friends had been found. As a Canadian, I heartily disapprove but didn't actually make a complaint.

Next time we have a plan: Ask for security to bring up earplugs. They bring us appropriate gear AND stop the problem, all at the same time.

Ahhh pathetic

Blecch. May has arrived.

I shall call you Bitey...

Met with a big, frisky dog yesterday. He tried to encourage me to play with him by biting my hand.

Not. Good.

The owner had just gone inside his house to get a plastic bag... to pick up the massive pile of crap said dog had just distributed over our shared neighbour's lawn.

I guess the dog wanted someone to play Fetch with.

Wasn't sure if I should have stuck around to speak with the owner, or get the hell out of there.

(I chose the latter.)

Halloween Snot Monsters

Big day tomorrow: Practicum Orientation. We start our mini-teaching assignments in high schools starting next week for the month of November.

Seems fair: given eight weeks of 5-day training, they're letting us go out and pick up some practical experience. Then do it all over again (8 weeks + 4 weeks), and finish up with a month of some type of internship.

Tomorrow's when we dress up and try to give a good first impression.

Too bad I feel like I have several cotton wads permanently embedded in my sinus cavities. And a vice crushing my temples. And a massive knot of muscles running up my back and neck. And my nose...

I'll spare you the details.

But hey, Halloween's almost here, maybe I'll feel better by then. I'm certainly thinking of a few dress-up costume candidates for that...

At A Loss For Words

I have a lost book milling about somewhere at the library.

I'm pretty sure I took it back a few months ago but I have a feeling they skipped it and put it straight on the shelf without scanning it in.

The annoying part is, I have no idea what the title is to remember what it is and what I did with it -- when I look it up online, it has some generic book name instead of a proper title and description.

The librarian clerks told me at the time that if it was at the library like I had said, then someone was bound to come by and check it out, so I would be cleared.

But sometimes I read obscure books...

And sometimes I forget to bring things back...

So which is it? ... And is it worth $8.95 and hassles to find out??

Taxing Routes

I know it's generally seen as horrid and long-winded and overly mathy -- and perennial -- but I have a small confession to make:
I actually enjoy doing my taxes.

It must be a throw-back to the days of yore when "Choose Your Own Adventure" books were hot ticket items and you could follow whatever path you wanted because it was all laid out for you.

Unfortunately for those books, I always ran out of fingers keeping the pages as markers so I could return to find out what Else might have happened... I had no patience to re-read the segments later.

And therein lies the fundamental likeability of taxes: there is only one route I need to keep track of... and ooh SNAP! it's all based on numbers! yaaaaay! :)

Pretend-She-Is... Free-Dumb

When did using the Internets become such a pretentious hobby?

Seems like you've gotta be wired up and plugged in to about a billion different user accounts these days because Hey, you gotta catch up with everyone in your growing infosphere, right?

"Thank you, Internets, for connecting my life for me."

So, 'essential' these days are accounts with MySpace, FaceBook, Flickr and possibly Blogger. You may be part of interest groups like RateBeer, your local library, or your friend's online book club or blasting forum. Add to this the glee of email like Hotmail, which always leads you to fun news stories on MSN, and Gmail, which saves all the emails you've ever received and will never read again.

Then don't forget to check all your fav comics, your best friend's blog, your horoscope (and your bf's horoscope), your other five email accounts, login to GoogleReader (to check out your 20 news feeds and jokes and blogs you've tagged on del.icio.us), check for smiles on LavaLife, Digg something funny up, and go watch at least three videos on YouTube during the course of the morning, all while browsing on your supa Flock browsa. rowr.

Then you have to forward alllll the funny bits to alllll your friends, just in case someone missed it.

... And all this fun can be yours for free! yaaaaay! :)

Re-Routing Humour

Last night en route to dinner at Jules, a lady stopped Juroo and I on the subway to ask us for directions.

Now, apparently there's a trick to asking for directions: you need to ask the Right Question.

She asked: "Is this the train that goes Southbound to King Station?"

Annnnd, since we were on the Eastbound platform, I immediately replied: "No, you have to go along that long corridor over there to get to the Southbo--" --by which time she had left with a hurried thank you. Meanwhile, we were left standing there, thinking, mulling over this response.

The truth was, we were also going Southbound. We just happened to be taking a different route.

Keep in mind that to transfer from North/South trains to East/West trains, there are two neighbouring TTC stations that do this: St. George Station (where you walk up or down a flight of stairs to transfer) and Spadina Station (where you walk more than 200 metres down a long scary corridor to transfer).

We were going to transfer trains at St. George, whereas we had just sent the woman off (going in the same direction as us) down that scary corridor.

So what happened? What was so funny?

Well, we got off at St. George Station to switch trains as planned. And we waited for the train to come... and waited... and yes, finally it came. We entered the car, we sat down... and lo and behold, There was the same woman, sitting by the doors, looking over at us incredulously.

She flashed us a hairy eyeball.

We had to move seats. (It became impossible to stop giggling.)