Skyler's adventures to and in Ottawa. Day 1

Hey blog buddies! I guess it’s been a while since I’ve told you the going-ons of my day... I guess it’s because, for a while now, my day has been: Sleep, Drink my face off, work, repeat; with the omission of “drink my face off” every 5 days or so. But today, many very interesting things have happened to me. See, I had to come to Ottawa this week to check on 4 possible apartments for the school year. Well, let me tell you, it’s NOT as easy as it seems. 

So we left Sudbury promptly at 9:30AM. I had to make an emergency stop at Starbucks, and then we were on our way. The way down to Ottawa was pretty much uneventful... Stopped in Sturgeon Falls (Cheddar cheese bagels!) and Deep River intentionally, then I had a sudden bladder pressure augmentation and stopped in this quaint little village called Renfrew (yes, much like Holt Renfrew, but MUCH less glamorous). Talk about a fucking adventure. You go down this road that looks as if it’s been taken directly from Farmville (complete with weird little people with extremely disproportionate heads and all) . Well talk about trying to get out of this town... it’s as if they’re trying to keep you there. And then the GPS is lying and says I’m supposed to go through this corn field, but actually makes you end up going on this weird little crescent shaped road to bring you back onto the road you turned off of... ( more of my retarded GPS later on...)

When we make it into Deep River, Brianne decided to blast Cotton-Eyed Joe in the car with the windows down at the gas station... yay me. So then we continued our trek to Ottawa, and because of the absurd amounts of useless construction, Brianne got to wave at like 2479365274365783495170423 construction workers... about 2 of them waved back... probably bcz they felt bad for her mental handicap. Either way, I think we were like, an hour later all due to construction. Then we get onto the Queensway (417)...Holy bitch suck. Talk about crazy people in crazy cars going really fast and making retarded lane changes while your GPS is yelling “STAY RIGHT...in 200 metres, STAY RIGHT!” and then you’re like “FUCK YOU computer GPS lady! anymore right, I’m going left!” all while worrying about the 6746578324658734627834608243670189576452376592345 cars flying around you.

Ok, so maybe the 417 wasn’t all that bad after all... it was pretty easy now that i think of it. 

THEN we got to downtown Ottawa... at 5PM or so... the GPS giudes us to the hotel in good fashion until it’s starts having epileptic seizures and says: “In 200 metres, turn left, then turn left, turn left” so I say: “Umm...okay! let’s go straight!” GPS says, in turn: “recalculating...turn right, then in 1 kilometer, turn right” so I followed her directions and I missed the hotel completely because the British bitch inside my GPS hates me. So we go around in a circle again and end up at the hotel... well then I don’t know where to park and I suddenly spot a place... but we already passed it...and we’re on a one-way street. CIRCLE THE FUCKING BLOCK AGAIN! I swear... this whole time, I think the angry lady in the GPS wanted to say: “Listen here you little shit! If I have to recalculate one more time, I’m going to eat your first-born”. OH! side story. Brianne and I are arriving downtown and I say: “look! the people in Downtown Ottawa are so different than the people in Downtown Sudbury! they look so normal.... OH! except that guy...” (a homeless looking guy riding an old-person’s scooter thing).  

SO I finally made it to the hotel...GPS still intact... British lady still shouting directions at me. And then I have to park my car... well here’s the deal... the parking is like, WAAAYYY underground. It’s like a fucking obstacle course getting down this tiny ramp and finding your way to your designated parking spot. The prize at the end: Congratulations, your car is still in good condition! 

So we go and see the first house, problem free. It was very nice... but I’m not writing about that. Then we decided were hungry and were going to eat somewhere. the nearest places are near this one mall (crappy mall) and we’re driving around in circles around the mall because every 2 seconds, the GPS says “Arriving at destination on right” and there was NEVER a restaurant in sight. I swear it was angry british lady trying to get back at me for the hotel dilemma. Finally I see the restaurant and it’s like, 800 meters east of where we were... FUCK YOU ANGRY BRITISH GPS LADY! FUCK YOU!

Then we went to the second house, wasn’t all that great. And got back to the hotel safely, parking was much easier the second time around... Still not what i would consider “EASY” though... 

I’ll tell you guys all about tomorrow another time though.

HAPPY GROPING!

So... we're starting a new life....

Sooo...university eh? kinda scary, without a doubt. But kind of exciting right? I know I wrote this as note on Facebook, but I think it's very true and I think more people will read it here anyway. I know... this is going to be very different from what I usually write here (it's actually going to be something heartfelt; which, in itself is something very new to me)

Grade twelve is unlike any other. Here are a few things you should know.. It won't hit you when you wake up for your last first day of school. It won't hit you as you walk into the school for the first time as an official senior. It won't hit you when you cheer at your last football game. It won't hit you as you go to your last school dance. It won't hit you when you get all stressed about prom and realize the night passes by way to fast . It won't hit you as you do absurd amounts of work to try and get into College or University. It won't hit you as you write that generic essay letter that you try to use for all your applications. It won't hit you as you celebrate New Year's with the friends you have known since childhood. It won't hit you when you write your last highschool exam and everyone gets their party on! You won't feel it when you are having the time of your life at your last spring break in Dominican Republic with the best of people. You don't realize it at stag and then go to school drunk the next day.  You begin to realize it at Grad party when you look around and realize that you will never see half of these people again. You will begin to see it more over the summer when everyone is getting their roommates, class schedules, and going to orientation. It still hasn't fully hit you when you are sitting in your room packing up the past 18 years of your life, laughing with your best friend about all the stupid stuff you've done. You might feel it the morning you leave for college as that it is the last time you will see your room, your parents, and your best friend for like 3 months. It will finally hit you when you are sitting in your dorm room with a perfect stranger, that you have to live with for the next year. Please, Please, PLEASE make every moment of your Senior year count, you only get to do it once. College or university will be a lot of fun, but in the meantime, jump at every opportunity you get to do anything that you have ever wanted to do. Spend as much time with friends as possible, for it will not be long until you meet new people and inevitably grow apart.

Fashion advice from a harsh critic.

Hey blog buddies!

So I’ve been having a bit of difficulty thinking of appropriate things to rant/rip/rave about recently. I’d like to remind you all should you think of a really good blog topic for me, feel free to leave it on my Facebook wall or as a comment below. Or send me a text..or whatever, just make sure I know about it.

Now... as for today’s blog, fear not! Because I have thought of something to write to you about. And it is one of my all-time favorite things to talk about: FASHION. Now, for all the guys who read my blog, don’t start groaning just yet. There will be things in this blog that you will thank me for! (this goes for some girls too)

I think I’ll talk mostly about fashion faux-pas, because they are much more fun to talk about.

Now, if there’s ONE thing that bugs me more than anything else when I’m judging someone’s fashion choice, it’s their socks, or lack thereof. First of all, your socks should match your outfit or at least your shoes! Seriously! You can’t just go around in a tux with white gym socks! You might as well wear a big-ass sign saying “I don’t know how to dress myself, please hit me” Then again, don’t take this too literally and buy a pair of socks for every outfit you buy either.... Sometimes it’s creepy when you’re wearing an argyle sweater with matching argyle socks. I had a teacher who was wearing a pink argyle sweater once...her socks were black with pink argyle too. It was kinda creepy. All I’m saying is put a little thought into what goes on your feet, you never know when... (Ok, I’m trying really hard to think of something clever to say right here, but nothing’s coming... so “Insert clever Skyler comment here”). OH! and never wear socks with crocs. Actually, never wear crocs.

Another thing that people shouldn’t wear is a turtle neck. Just the name makes me think of dirty things..which is probably my own perverted mind’s fault... but whatever... they’re still really crappy. And don’t tell me “They’re practical...” because they are soooo not. First of all, they are soo uncomfortable. I’m sorry, but I don’t appreciate a tight piece of fabric wrapped around my neck giving me the illusion of a giraffe neck. The whole idea of a turtle neck is soooo unsettling. What would happen if my neck suddenly swelled? I could just see the newspaper headline now: “Man dies, due to swelling while in turtle neck” (OH MY GOD! the sexual innuendoes! I can’t even handle it!). So next time you reach for that “wanna-be-a-fucking-giraffe-neck-thing-because-my-mom-dresses-me-like-a-nun” garment, think again.

Another little note concerning this blog, if anyone saw my facebook status today, Horizontal stripes DO make you look fat. So don’t wear them, unless you’re Paris Hilton, in which case it’s okay to wear horizontal stripes because they give your body a bit of form.

Happy Groping!

Fourty-Fifth (Tacky things part 2)

Ok so, I'm kinda getting tired and unorganized with naming every blog entry a number, so I'm going to start (starting with today's blog) actually naming the blogs.

ok. so a few months ago I started a blog called “tacky things” . . . I think it was in April if I’m not mistaken... Anyway, I figured I would finally write the “Part 2” I promised a long time ago.

1. Hawain shirts.

I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re fooling when you wear these pieces of shit. I mean honestly, do you really think it’s necessary to wear a gross-ass piece of obscene floral pattern around where everyone can see you? You might as well just go nude. And you ever notice how the guys who wear these are like, beyond ugly?  You walk around anywhere when it’s hot outside and there’s no way you’re going to avoid the lard-ass wearing this article of “clothing” reserved for the people who should also be wearing a sign saying “Punch me in the fucking face because I don’t know how to dress and my stupid bitch-ass wife thought it would be clever to dress me in this distracting and abominable cheap polyester garment.”

1. Plastic Flamingos

“Look at me! I’m a foolish pink bird who adds absolutely NOTHING to your yard and who looks like the representative from ‘absolute flaming homosexuals are us’” (that’s what the bird says when you walk by). Seriously though, what is the reason for these stupid plastic, pink chickens polluting the trashiest of white trash yards? There is NO esthetic or economic value to these inanimate assholes. They are sooooo unrealistic...I mean.. really. There are sooo many other and better plastic things I would rather display on my front yard such as: plastic christmas trees (they don’t drop needles!!!), plastic dogs ( I mean, they just seem so much more realistic than tropical birds...) and so on and so forth.

1. Spinning rims.

Or whatever the real name for them is. You know what I’m talking about. Those really pretentious and obnoxious things people put on their wheel rims to make it seem like their car is “pimped out” when really it’s just another cheap ass car that someone thinks is just “the shit” because there’s a shiny piece of metal (most of them are plastic now...which is so much worse) that spins in the air... I was like that once, except is was a playing card in the spokes of my bike tires. There’s a big difference there... When I was 8 and put that card in my spokes, I didn’t have child support to pay because I was a genuine fuck-up, crack whore; I was being a kid. Grow the fuck up, get a real car (like a Mazda 3 perhaps? hahaha..anyone who knows me personally will understand this) and stop letting your kid starve, asshole.

Well anyway, I’m sure there will be a third installment to this series, but that’s all for tonight. I have to work at 9 tomorrow. YAY me!....

Happy Groping!