Gaby and I had the following conversation on facebook:
So I drew her a picture of Venezuela, in the style of SatW, not appreciating that.
I see Venezuela as a sexy spanish woman in a short red dress.
Venezuela has her arms crossed.
Saturday 31 March 2012
Venezuela
So I drew her a picture of Venezuela, in the style of SatW, not appreciating that.
I see Venezuela as a sexy spanish woman in a short red dress.
Venezuela has her arms crossed.
Wednesday 21 March 2012
Singers Are Clearly Intelligent
I just finished practicing. I FINALLY FIGURED OUT why I was feeling so much tension when I sang my high notes.
Are you ready for this?
My jaw was tight.
*facepalm*
I'm fixing it now.
Are you ready for this?
My jaw was tight.
*facepalm*
I'm fixing it now.
Sunday 11 March 2012
Groceries
Grocery shopping for the modern classical singer:
Also, yes that is a Buffy shirt. Forbidden Planet in NYC.
I'm cool like that.
Also, yes that is a Buffy shirt. Forbidden Planet in NYC.
I'm cool like that.
Tuesday 6 March 2012
#MakeKonyFamous
(Today's post is not particularly amusing. I do this pretty infrequently, please forgive me.)
I remember this time, in my grade ten history class, that my teacher showed us a video called "Invisible Children." It was about this awful man, Joseph Kony, abducting children from their homes and turning them into ruthless child soldiers, and a group of young people trying to make a difference in the world. I remember being moved. I remember crying.
I remember wanting to make a difference.
Of course, that night, I went home, and completely forgot about the issue.
Let's not let that happen again.
Three words:
Make
Kony
FAMOUS
Watch the video. It is half an hour long, but it might change your life, and the issue is important... Plus the film is beautifully done, so the way I see it, if you don't have the time to watch it, you're missing out.
Sign the pledge. It takes two seconds of your time, it DOES have an impact, and it's free to do.
Lastly, here are the posters for COVER THE NIGHT, in case you don't have the money or the means to donate or purchase them:
Otherwise, have a great night everybody. I'll post something funny tomorrow.
EDIT: This was linked to me on facebook. After reading it, I still support what Invisible Children is trying to do, but it did get me thinking, and I always think that if you're going to support or oppose something, it's always good to see and hear both sides of the story.
Monday 5 March 2012
What Happens When I Don't Sleep Properly Several Days In A Row
One of my close friends just went through dental surgery today.
She's miserable and in pain, so I've decided to dedicate today's blog post to her - mainly because it's about me being stupid, and that always cheers her up.
Also, I feel as though the punchline to this story is going to be extremely anticlimactic, considering the amount of set-up that is needed to tell it, and since her stories are ALWAYS LIKE THIS, I feel as though I owe her one. I'm warning you, the end is really not as funny as you'd like it to be.
So with that, Daphnee, this one's for you. Feel better.
So one of my best friends had her 18th birthday party on Friday night. It was a scavenger hunt, followed by a TOTALLY WILD party at her house later that night (don't kid yourselves - we cracked open a bottle of sparkling wine, and shared it amidst 11 or 12 people.)
And don't you know it.
So anyway, about halfway through the week, I started brainstorming for ideas as to what on earth I could buy this girl (cause, let's face it, I'm a little last-minute.) Finally, I came up with the brilliantly original idea of getting her an Omer DeSerres gift card - to those of you who don't know what that is, Omer DeSerres is an art supply store in Montreal. I don't know whether there's a chain of them nationally or internationally, and to be honest I really don't feel like looking it up, so if you're curious, feel free to Google it.
In any case, I decided to be brilliantly original and buy my best friend a gift card. Of course, I told my other best friend (yeah, I have a lot of best friends. I'm clearly very popular) that this is what I was getting Gaby (the first best friend. You must be having trouble keeping track), and Reveena (the second best friend) being who she is, decided to buy it with me.
Of course, neither of us had any time during the week to actually go downtown and buy said gift card, so we decided to do it the day of the party.
Now, what you have to first understand about me is that I am a very not-punctual person. I am the type of person who will get out of bed five minutes before I am supposed to leave the house. I think, if there was an opposite of punctual, that's what I would be - anti-punctual. I think that's really just a fancy way of saying "late," but hey, it makes me feel a little better about myself.
The second thing you have to understand is that Reveena is kind of a lazy person. Not extremely lazy, not lazy to the extent that I am lazy, but just lazy enough to make this story plausible.
And the third thing you need to know is that between the two nights before this incident, I had slept a total of 10 hours - that being 5 hours a night - and I DON'T DO 5 hours a night, particularly not two nights in a row. It simply doesn't happen. I become extremely tired, and when I am tired, I become extraordinarily single-minded, and lose ALL ability to multitask.
To whit, it was at about 5:15 on that Friday afternoon that I started to get ready to leave. The plan was for me to get on the 5:28 bus, which Reveena was supposed to be taking, go downtown together, buy the giftcard, grab something to eat, and meet everyone back at the metro by 6:30.
I promise you right now, you do not know where this story is going.
(Unless of course I've already told you the story, and considering that the majority of my readers are close friends deferred from my facebook account, let's face it, that's highly plausible. However, let us proceed as though you had never heard this story before.)
I had asked Reveena to call me when she got on the bus at her stop, which is about 7 minutes away from mine.
The phone rang at 5:21. I answered with a hopeful "Hey, I'm gonna do my best to make the bus, but if that doesn't happen, I promise I'll be on the next one."
Reveena knows me pretty well, so at about 5:30, my doorbell rang.
The next bus was coming at 5:42, and if we missed it we were going to have to walk to the metro. Normally I would have no problem with said walk, but that night, factoring in the icy wind and my heavy sleepover-material-laden bag, I was in no mood.
I raced around my room, trying to frantically throw together an appropriate outfit, fix my hair, brush my teeth, apply makeup, and make sure I had everything I needed for the next day (pjs, undies, clothes, ballet leotard & slippers - I was going straight to my class, deodorant...) to Reveena's chattering and munching - she was snacking on an apple.
It was at about 5:41 that I was grabbing my toothbrush, the final item I so desperately needed, and hastily shoving it into my bag. Reveena went back into my room to shut the lamp on my bedside table. This is a lamp I leave on pretty constantly, because it's kind of out of the way and a bit of a pain in the ass to shut. As she was fumbling for the light switch, she happened to drop the core from the apple she had been eating directly onto my floor. Of course, being a thoughtful human being, she cried out "Whoops! I dropped my apple core."
Instead of being sensible, I, with my eye on making that bus, cried out "Just leave it!", shut the lamp, and charged out of my room and down the stairs, to the sound of her protests.
Of course, it was only when we got to the bus stop that I fully realized what had just happened.
And that is how an apple core decorated with someone else's spit took up residence on the wood floor in my room for about 16-18 hours.
She's miserable and in pain, so I've decided to dedicate today's blog post to her - mainly because it's about me being stupid, and that always cheers her up.
Also, I feel as though the punchline to this story is going to be extremely anticlimactic, considering the amount of set-up that is needed to tell it, and since her stories are ALWAYS LIKE THIS, I feel as though I owe her one. I'm warning you, the end is really not as funny as you'd like it to be.
So with that, Daphnee, this one's for you. Feel better.
So one of my best friends had her 18th birthday party on Friday night. It was a scavenger hunt, followed by a TOTALLY WILD party at her house later that night (don't kid yourselves - we cracked open a bottle of sparkling wine, and shared it amidst 11 or 12 people.)
And don't you know it.
So anyway, about halfway through the week, I started brainstorming for ideas as to what on earth I could buy this girl (cause, let's face it, I'm a little last-minute.) Finally, I came up with the brilliantly original idea of getting her an Omer DeSerres gift card - to those of you who don't know what that is, Omer DeSerres is an art supply store in Montreal. I don't know whether there's a chain of them nationally or internationally, and to be honest I really don't feel like looking it up, so if you're curious, feel free to Google it.
In any case, I decided to be brilliantly original and buy my best friend a gift card. Of course, I told my other best friend (yeah, I have a lot of best friends. I'm clearly very popular) that this is what I was getting Gaby (the first best friend. You must be having trouble keeping track), and Reveena (the second best friend) being who she is, decided to buy it with me.
Of course, neither of us had any time during the week to actually go downtown and buy said gift card, so we decided to do it the day of the party.
Now, what you have to first understand about me is that I am a very not-punctual person. I am the type of person who will get out of bed five minutes before I am supposed to leave the house. I think, if there was an opposite of punctual, that's what I would be - anti-punctual. I think that's really just a fancy way of saying "late," but hey, it makes me feel a little better about myself.
The second thing you have to understand is that Reveena is kind of a lazy person. Not extremely lazy, not lazy to the extent that I am lazy, but just lazy enough to make this story plausible.
And the third thing you need to know is that between the two nights before this incident, I had slept a total of 10 hours - that being 5 hours a night - and I DON'T DO 5 hours a night, particularly not two nights in a row. It simply doesn't happen. I become extremely tired, and when I am tired, I become extraordinarily single-minded, and lose ALL ability to multitask.
To whit, it was at about 5:15 on that Friday afternoon that I started to get ready to leave. The plan was for me to get on the 5:28 bus, which Reveena was supposed to be taking, go downtown together, buy the giftcard, grab something to eat, and meet everyone back at the metro by 6:30.
I promise you right now, you do not know where this story is going.
(Unless of course I've already told you the story, and considering that the majority of my readers are close friends deferred from my facebook account, let's face it, that's highly plausible. However, let us proceed as though you had never heard this story before.)
I had asked Reveena to call me when she got on the bus at her stop, which is about 7 minutes away from mine.
The phone rang at 5:21. I answered with a hopeful "Hey, I'm gonna do my best to make the bus, but if that doesn't happen, I promise I'll be on the next one."
Reveena knows me pretty well, so at about 5:30, my doorbell rang.
The next bus was coming at 5:42, and if we missed it we were going to have to walk to the metro. Normally I would have no problem with said walk, but that night, factoring in the icy wind and my heavy sleepover-material-laden bag, I was in no mood.
I raced around my room, trying to frantically throw together an appropriate outfit, fix my hair, brush my teeth, apply makeup, and make sure I had everything I needed for the next day (pjs, undies, clothes, ballet leotard & slippers - I was going straight to my class, deodorant...) to Reveena's chattering and munching - she was snacking on an apple.
It was at about 5:41 that I was grabbing my toothbrush, the final item I so desperately needed, and hastily shoving it into my bag. Reveena went back into my room to shut the lamp on my bedside table. This is a lamp I leave on pretty constantly, because it's kind of out of the way and a bit of a pain in the ass to shut. As she was fumbling for the light switch, she happened to drop the core from the apple she had been eating directly onto my floor. Of course, being a thoughtful human being, she cried out "Whoops! I dropped my apple core."
Instead of being sensible, I, with my eye on making that bus, cried out "Just leave it!", shut the lamp, and charged out of my room and down the stairs, to the sound of her protests.
Of course, it was only when we got to the bus stop that I fully realized what had just happened.
And that is how an apple core decorated with someone else's spit took up residence on the wood floor in my room for about 16-18 hours.
We made the bus though. ;)
Thursday 1 March 2012
That Test Is My Bitch
GO CHELSEA!
You WILL make your music history test tomorrow morning at 8:30 am YOUR BITCH!! Because you JUST SPENT AN HOUR STUDYING, and hell knows THAT'S ENOUGH TIME!!
Your history test will BOW DOWN TO YOUR AWESOMENESS!!
You will OWNNN RENAISSANCE MUSIC!!
That's right!!
You are AWESOME!!
AAARRRGHHH!!!
This is my pep talk. And now it's bedtime.
You WILL make your music history test tomorrow morning at 8:30 am YOUR BITCH!! Because you JUST SPENT AN HOUR STUDYING, and hell knows THAT'S ENOUGH TIME!!
Your history test will BOW DOWN TO YOUR AWESOMENESS!!
You will OWNNN RENAISSANCE MUSIC!!
That's right!!
You are AWESOME!!
AAARRRGHHH!!!
This is my pep talk. And now it's bedtime.
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