Wednesday, November 30, 2005

There's danger even in the simple word hello. . .

If I was in love with you, this is the mix tape I’d make for you.

At first, you’d read the track listings and you’d find them clichéd and obvious. Maybe not "indie" enough. You'd even let out a patronizing sigh at the inclusion of Jack Johnson song, as you turned and walked away from me.

But then, you'd go home and light a cigarette. And somewhere between the fifth and sixth song, you’d smile, and perform an equally clichéd gesture. You’d be brave enough to send me flowers, which you know I hate.

But I’d love them, because they’d be from you.

Matt Costa- Astair
Bright Eyes- First Day of My Life
The Postal Service- Brand New Colony
Jack Johnson- Cupid
Lowest of the Low- Subversive
Bloc Party- This Modern Love
Tegan and Sara- Underwater
Big Sugar- I Want You Now
Cake- Love You Madly
Aqualung- Brighter than Sunshine
The Meadow- (hed) p.e.
The Futureheads- Hounds of Love
The Perishers- Weekends
Ted Leo and the Pharmacists- Timorous Me
Stellastarr*- My Coco
BigWig- The Girl in the Green Jacket

And then, after the flowers dried and rotted, I’d put these songs on a CD. I’d put it on repeat and write you a long letter, while drinking black coffee in my pajamas, with my hair in a greasy pile on top of my head.

Counting Crows- Anna Begins
The Wrens- She Sends Kisses
Bloc Party- Positive Tension
Stereophonics- Nothing Compares to You (cover)
Emilianna Torrini- To Be Free
Mundy- To You I Bestow
The Magic Numbers- Love is Just a Game
Stars- One More Night
Maximo Park- Postcard of a Painting
Hawksley Workman- Romanticize the Automobile
Jets to Brazil- Sea Anemone
The Stills- Still in Love Song
Jeff Buckley- Last Goodbye
Magenta Lane- The Constant Lover
Matt Pond PA- Closest
The Wrens- Miss Me

I'd finish my coffee, have a shower and get dressed.

The letter would remain unsent, and the CD would become a coaster.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Scrabble in the City

Tonight, I decided to take myself out for the night, to celebrate the fact that I'm finally done term papers.

I determined that Scrabble in the City was in order.

I dressed carefully, fully aware that I was going to lose horribly in every capacity, have a glass of wine and inevitably start to run my mouth. So I put on my owl shirt, all the while giggling to myself- 'cause, you know, owls are wise and stuff.

I'm so clever.

Halfway through my second game though, one of my fellow players actually asked me if I was wearing an owl shirt to appear wise. I kid you not. Who does that? Who would even think to call me on that?

The type of person who spends their Monday nights playing Scrabble, that's who.

And now, I'm one of those people.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Guitar-Playing Robots!

With my final term paper only half written, Sonja and I decided that it was in order to go out dancing. And after spending the last three weeks in a row at Dance Cave, I thought it was necessary to go someplace new. So we decided to check out Neutral for "Eat Your Greens" in Kensington, which had been billed to me by a classmate as 'the new Dance Cave, except with hotter people.'

I love hot people! I actually heartily support attractive people congregating in one main location.

Needless to say, Sonja was also sold on the idea.

When we got out of the cab, we ran into Charles, Andy and Brendan. However, they were headed elsewhere, and we decided to ditch them in our quest for hot people.

Sadly though, Eat Your Greens only had a few people to offer us in that department, and they were all couples. This was at around midnight. "Maybe it's one of those really late night bars?" Sonja said wistfully.

Turns out it was. However, there was still just a surplus of females and couples instead of the promised amount of attractive males.

We made the best of it though, dancing to all the music, even though we only collectively recognized about 4 songs all night.

I suspect I probably really liked the fact that the bathroom matched my outfit.

Listen- you try to take a picture with one hand, no flash, after you've had one too many glasses of wine. Yah, that's what I thought.

We came to the conclusion that perhaps this place was "too indie" for us. That idea was solidified when we went to grab our jackets and realized that they had an entire wall covered with drawings of robots playing guitar.

Did the bar you went to last night have drawings of guitar-playing robots on the wall?

That's what I thought.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

So this is what term papers look like. . .

This is what term paper season looks like. After spending the last three weeks writing papers and articles for class, I have one left to go for my psychology class.

I developed the perfect body indent in my bed after I spent roughly 7 hours straight yesterday doing research, only taking a 30 minute break to eat some soup and watch Kenny Vs. Spenny.

Yesterday was also Katrina's name day, so Brie baked her a cake.

Happy Name Day Katrina! (After this picture was taken, Kash confessed that she hates sparklers. Who hate sparklers?)

Mmm...extra tender cake.

Katrina with her patron saint, St. Katherine.

We then proceeded to have a lengthy conversation about placenta.

Every day in China, we discuss four main things:

1) Organic cotton.

2) The dishes, and how disgusting they've become.

3) Sex.

4) Some obscure and random topic for the day. (Or as someone pointed out, it's more like five random topics. Yesterday's conversations included mercury in tuna, flouride in the water, placenta trees and night terrors, amongst others.)

These conversations occur every single day without fail, including the organic cotton conversation.

Later in the night, before I went to bed, I became a little bit homesick upon hearing the Chloe was at Tyler's watching the Oiler's game and drinking beer, and that they were headed to the strippers to meet Danny for his birthday. (Nothing makes me homesick like the mention of beer, hockey and the strippers!)

Brie and Mark offered to let me sit on their patented "omni-lap" for consolation purposes.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Dead Bodies are Definitely Date Worthy

So, I've decided that going to see the Dead Body Exhibit at the Space and Science Centre (officially called Body Worlds 2) would make for a strangely sexy date.

Look at it this way: why do first dates go to scary movies? Well, uncomfortable situations breed the need to seek comfort in other people. So there you are, looking at dead bodies, and getting all squeemish. A little hand-holding is in order, don't you think?

Plus there would be the opportunity to make a lot of ill-humoured black jokes. And who doesn't like a dead body?

The sad thing is, this is just one of the many brilliant date ideas I have up my sleeve.


I'd like to take this opportunity to talk about mustaches:

I love them.

The End.

Monday, November 21, 2005

The Quota Revisited

I just looked at my calendar to realize that the end of November is coming up quickly. Quicker than I expected.

Here's the problem; last year, Katherine upped the date per year quota* to two dates per year.

And I've only been on one.

That leaves me with one month to find a date and go on it. While this may not seem like much of a challenge to a well-versed, intelligent and attractive female like myself, I assure you that it is. Case in point: do you remember that one time when I bought two Jack Johnson concert tickets in April, thinking that five months was a sufficient period of time to find a date, and then ended up taking Courtney** with me?

Yah, I remember that one time.

I also now have the added challenge whereas I go back to Alberta in less than a month, and the period between now and then it's exam period. Maybe I can coerce someone into a study session. Would that be considered a date?

*The date/year quota was established in roughly 2003 by my cousin Katherine. The philosophy behind the date per year quota is that you must go on at least the allotted number of dates per year in order to remind yourself why you don't date in the first place. Otherwise, you will become one of those people who rents Meg Ryan movies and actually cries at the end. (I prefer to cry over parrot documentaries.) In the previous years, my date per year quota was at one date per year, but was upped last Christmas to two dates per year.

**Truth be told, Courtney was a better date than anyone else I know would have been. Why would I ruin Jack Johnson with a random guy for the sake of the quota? I prefer my friends.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Wanna Duck?

Ah, the perfect Friday night at home. Books and beer. What could possibly make this better?

Wait, this could!

After a couple of drinks at Sarah and Sonja's place, we headed to Ram in the Rye for an industrial engineering cowboy-themed fundraiser. (Yeehaw! The Albertan in me came out to play, and Sonja and I started the celebration early by singing along to some classic Nitty Gritty Dirt Band).

To my delight, it turned out Chris was the organizer of the event, complete with the largest belt buckle he could possible find.

Chris lasooing Katie in.

Beer, ah, my dear friend. I've been neglecting you so long in favour of my new acquaintance, wine. I'm really sorry about that. I'll never betray you again. (At least, not until you leave me laying in bed alone again, with a tummyache and morning-after sorrows.)

Sarah's boyfriend, Darren, was visiting from out of town.

Sonja's assymetrical haircut though, is here to stay.

This is hands-down my favourite picture of the night.

Josh is a fellow Albertan (he's from Calgary) but missed the memo that it was a cowboy-themed night. He left his spurs and his pride at home.

I somehow managed to provoke a series of arm-wrestling fights. Sarah kicked Sonja's ass. Sonja kicked my ass. By association, this means that I am never going to mess with Sarah.

Since the cowboy themed night wasn't very busy, we headed uptown (Does Toronto even have an uptown? Or is that phraseology relegated to New York? The streets do slope upwards from the lake, which indicates to me that the U of T campus is uptown. There, that's settled then.) to. . .you guessed it, Dance Cave. It was frigid out, and even the power of Sonja and Charles' matching jackets couldn't keep them warm.

At Dance Cave, we danced. Only one person was apt enough to realize that we were all wearing cowboy shirts. Maybe Sonja's assymetrical haircut managed to confuse all the hipsters into thinking we were being ironic.

Either way, Sonja and I ended up trekking all way back downtown to our respective neighbourhoods. I was in the middle of a rant, when Sonja stopped in the middle of the sidewalk on Church Street, and pointed out this sign to me.

"Wanna Duck?" Uh. . .how is this sexual? Can someone please explain this to us?*

After sleeping in all day, I once again attempted to conquer my final dreaded term paper for psychology class. I was in my pajamas, all tuckered out from the previous evening, when Mat convinced me to come out with him and Court.

(And when I say "convinced me" here is the dialogue of the conversation:

"Jess, why aren't you comign out? C'mon!"

"Well, I dunno. . ."

"Oh, c'mon!"

"I can be ready in 2 and a half minutes."

It took a lot of tricky maneuvring, but Mat certainly conned me into coming out. I didn't even see it coming.)

What weekend isn't complete without the cab shot? However, it must be noted that for once I'm the most sober person in the cab.

Especially when compared to Kevin, who kept beating me at "rock paper scissors" despite his intoxication.

Courtney and Mat tried out their Sears Model poses in front of the wall.

Wait a second. The wall? Again? I live in a massive city. How is it that I ended up here, again? Only this time, I was with Court, who has never been to Dance Cave.

However, last night didn't change that, because by 1 a.m., they were at capacity, so we didn't get in.

Instead, we headed a block away to Pauper's Pub, where Court promptly proceeded to drop her entire purse in the toliet. I pointed and laughed, while some girl in the washroom handed Courtney paper towel and assured her it was okay (as a responsible friend would do).

I continued to point and laugh.

I was, however, nice enough to tell Court she also had toliet paper stuck to her shoe when we left the bathroom. (She's a classy lady.)

Oh, beer. I love you. You never let me down.

Court feels the same affinity for beer that I do, but she'll never love it like I do.

Best picture of the night.

I knew the night was wearing on when Kevin and Court started discussing the grain of the wood.

As much as I love ridiculous conversations, the wood conversation really wasn't doing it for me. Besides, it was taking away from my quality time thumb-wrestling Court.

Kevin's facial expressions run definite competition with mine. Shortly after this photo was taken, Court interrupted the waiter asking for my phone number to announce that it was time to leave. After examining the photographic evidence, it's obvious that that point in the night had truly come.

This morning, I somehow hauled my ass out of bed to join Sarah, Sonja and Darren at the Santa Claus Parade.

Despite my earlier assertations (circa Sylvan Lake this past June) that parades aren't hangover conducive, I knew I couldn't pass up seeing Santa Claus.

Darren and Sarah.

There were balloons everywhere!

I really wanted one, until Sarah thought it would be funny to start rubbing my hair with the balloons. I debated stopping her, but then I remembered the outcome of our arm-wrestling competition on Friday, and decided it was in my best interests to not challenge her superiority.

Next, she attacked Sonja.


"Wouldn't it be awesome to be in fourth grade and go to school on Monday and be like, 'I was on the Barbie float' to all your friends?"

Sarah is the only person I've ever known who waves back at people in the parade. Now, keep in mind that this parade was a good 45 minutes long. And Sarah waved back at each and every person in the parade. I'm not going to lie- this made the layer of ice around my heart thaw, just a little. Thanks, Sarah.

The big man himself!

*Wait, wait, wait! I was just typing the title for this post, "Wanna Duck?" and I got it! Hahaha! It's a good thing I didn't make the title of this post "Wanna Duck, Santa?" which is what I was originally going to put.

Oi. I'm a clever girl.

Day 3 of the MSN Boycott

"Can we go to see Harry Potter this week?" I just asked Brie tonight.

"Yeah. . ." she said hesistantly, looking at Mark.

"Well, unless you two already have plans."

"You can come, but you have to bring a friend," Mark told me, decisively.

"That's a good rule," Brie agreed, smiling at Mark.

I raised an eyebrow. "A friend?" Brie and Mark are my friends. I was confused.

Mark and Brie looked at each other in the way parents look at each other when discussing something they don't want their kids to know about.

"Well," Brie finally admitted, "we like to make out during Harry Potter, to scare the little children."

So, uh, anyone want to be my friend?

In other somewhat related news, Dwayne (feel free to say that name out loud in a whiny fashion) did not call me. I'm okay with that though. After all, his name rhymes with lame.

Which, by the way, is what that joke just was. Lame.

Friday, November 18, 2005

I hate talking on the phone. So why would I enjoy talking online?

I haven't been on msn messenger for over 26 hours now.

No, really, it's true. You can stop directing those disbelieving and horrified looks at your computer screens.

So, now I'm trying to find things to fill my time that don't involve typing "lol" and "brb". So far, I've:

- watched two hours of TV straight (an anomoly in my existance)
- went for a beer and lunch with Canice
- downloaded a ridiculous amount of music
- read a magazine
- actually went to class
- stared at an interview I transcribed recently, and debated writing my article
- went to Indigo and wandered around looking for books on Vanuatu
- went shopping, but didn't buy anything

It's a protest. It's a boycott. Talking to people on msn is not the equivalent of spending quality time with them.

I am sick of the lack of face to face interactions in my life.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Naked Behind Gnomes 2006

Calendar 2006 Teaser

We call this picture "Mail Order Chloe and Jess." Well, you can't literally find us in your mailbox, but if you order the calendar, you'll receive 12 months worth of our fascimiles!

Seriously, now! Wrapping ourselves in newspaper was a labour of love for you. And let's not forget about the title of the calendar. "Naked Behind Gnomes" is meant quite literally.

Who wants a calendar this year? I've only had 4 people request a copy, which seems quite low. Please let me know ASAP.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

I was wrong. Weird.

An unprecedented event has occurred:

The random from Friday night called me. I kid you not.

The random even has a name- Dwayne, apparently. I find the Alberta-esque asthetic of the name kind of appealing.

"So, were you calling for any particular reason?" I asked him after we made some small chit-chat. I don't like to talk on the phone except with a select few people. Dwayne is not one of those select few people, and I have a nasty cold right now.

"Well, uh. . ." the random seemed confused. "Well, uh, you're sick?" I was already annoyed.

"Yes, yes I am."

"Oh, well, what are you doing this weekend?"

"Not too much."

"Oh." Silence. Seriously, did this guy not plan out what he was going to say before he called me? Was he conversationally challenged? Was this not the perfect segway to ask me out on a date? Or was he just calling to prove me wrong?

I broke the silence, "Did you have something in mind?"

"Uh, not really. Drinks, I guess? Or is this just an outright no?"

Ummm, well, you would actually have to ask me a question for me to give an outright no. "So, you didn't have a plan then?"

"No. I'm a 'fly by the seat of your pants' kind of guy."

"Well, do me a favour. How about you give me a call on Thursday?" Quite frankly, this is the middle of term paper season and the lack of a location, activity, date or time doesn't quite work into my schedule.

"Wait! Do you want me to actually have something planned?"

"I'll talk to you on Thursday. Bye."

I need to start preparing my A-list material now. I want to make this guy feel as awkward as possible. When I was living in Edmonton, I used to make new boys in my life play with my iguana just to see how they'd react. Right now though, that's obviously not an option. Maybe introducing my roomates is the next best thing?

Monday, November 14, 2005

Naked Behind Gnomes: The 2006 Calendar

Okay, do me a favour. Flip your calendar to December. Is that what you see?

If so, that means you've run out of Chloe-Jess calendar pictures for the year!

If not, don't you wish this is what you saw?

Don't worry though, because for the first time ever, the calendar will be ready in time for the Christmas season. "Naked Behind Gnomes" will be the third annual Chloe-Jess calendar...and likely, the last. That's right- the last. This is your last opportunity to be truly delighted every single time you turn your calendar page.

We're trying to get an idea of numbers before we find a printer for this year, so now is the time to pre-order your 2006 Calendar.

Important facts:
+ The Calendar is a non-profit endeavour. We only charge cost for it, which includes what we pay the printing as well as any shipping or handling that may apply.
+ Last year the final cost for the product was $20 Canadian. This year we're hoping to get it done for $10-15.
+The title of the calendar is Naked Behind Gnomes. Isn't that good enough?

If you're interested, please e-mail me at, leave a comment, or send me a message over msn. (If you have mentioned that you'd like a calendar at any point prior to this, I've probably forgotten, so please confirm this with me).

And don't forget- it makes a great gift!

Saturday, November 12, 2005

A night of hamsters, nunchuks, and random makeouts.

Yesterday I received an e-mail from Youth Challenge International.

"Congratulations! You've been accepted!"

I'm going to Vanuatu in June for 6 weeks to volunteer with youth there (more on this later). In light of this news, Katrina insisted that we had to go out to celebrate.

The classic cab shot: Katrina and her friend Marlie.

This week, I led a Natasha Bedingfield singalong, y'know, just to mix it up a little. The cab driver really liked that, especially since none of us knew the words except for, "I love you, I love you, I love you!"

Before we went out to the bar, we had to stop by Marlie's sisters place.

But we found ways to amuse ourselves while we were waiting. (I really don't know where these faces come from. It's inexplicable. Just sheer talent, I guess.)

Katrina found some nunchuks.

My prop was a random candlebra.

Katrina and Marlie had a mini-dance party in the kitchen before we left for the bar.

"Katrina, I want to give you a bum ride!"
"What's a bum ride?" I asked, confused.
"We'll show you!"

Little girls are made of sugar and spice. . .

. . .and everything nice.

Once we got to Dance Cave, we met up with Andy and Pierre.

Making out was a popular activity all-around last night.
Andy and Marlie did it.

Marlie and Katrina did it.

Me and some random guy did it.

At the end of the night, this guy asked for my phone number. Inspired by the big fuck's post on calling girls, I let loose one of the longest improv rants in history. At the end of it all, he looked at me and said, "Whoa. I get the feeling you're just a little bit bitter?"

I really have to stop giving off that impression.

The girls with Pierre and Andy at the end of the night.