-- Ok, so tell me this: If you have had a McDonald's drink in the past year or so, there is always something weird written on the cup. It will be a picture of someone, usually a woman, and say "Rosa Smith, Medicine Hat, Alberta, Global Casting Star" or something like that. What exactly is that all about, anyway? Am I just daft? Am I missing some big promotion? Or is it like they are putting their employees on the cups and calling them casting stars? Like Walmart used to do with their employees. You know, like a dude sitting on a step ladder in Fruit of the Looms with his wheelchair next to him and the caption "Adam, Customer Service Rep., Mississauga"?

-- So the Olympics start soon, and there is no snow. Well boo hoo. Perhaps they should change venues and hold some events here, or in places where there actually IS snow. You know, I'd love to see "Speed Skating on Lake Winnipeg" or whatever. And I mean, I am sure Calgary is still paying off the shit from their Olympics, so maybe they should use that again. I bet there is snow there. But no, let's just truck in snow in double digit temperatures, and have all the tourists stay in converted flop houses while the crack ho's are trucked out of town and left to sleep in warehouses throughout the lower mainland. You laugh, but it's true. They're hiding Vancouver's dirty little secret.

-- SNL is on right now, and fuck me Dorothy, this shit isn't the slightest bit funny. It's really painful to watch. They even had Michael Buble in a sketch, if that tells you how low they have sunk. They just did that huggy/kissy thing at the end, and I recognized nobody. Bring back Ellen Cleghorne, damnit!

-- I had the worst sleep last night. It was a real letdown, because I was so pumped to sleep in, but I tossed throughout the night and had horrible dreams. It's unusual for me to have bad dreams, but man oh man, last night made up for it. I kept dreaming of my mom and she was really sick and pretending she wasn't and I was just a wreck and at one point I woke up and felt this wave of relief, thinking "oh, it's a dream, I've already gone THROUGH her being sick" but then I dreamed it again and I felt so unsettled. I think this whole thing with Rachel's mom being in the hospital stirred up stuff for me, and that's why I had those dreams. But anyway, I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep and then we sort of hit the ground running because we were out of everything so we got a sitter and ran to Superstore and spent like almost 400 dollars and then went to Co-op and spent more money, and then we had to go home and try to put it all away. Then my 6 year old wanted to go for a walk with me, because she keeps saying the two of us are going on a diet together, so we went walking on the trail by our house and before you knew it, we walked 2.5 miles.

-- Oh, so then tonight, I ran into Walmart right before supper to pick up these Xmas tree storage things. They are just glorified Rubbermaid containers, but whatever. The box to our Xmas tree broke this year, and when I say broke, I mean that fucker flattened itself out like Ally McBeal's chest and there was no hope in trying to tape it together. The xmas tree pieces are shoved in a corner of the garage, so it was imperative I get a thing to put them in. So anyway, I run in there trying to be fast, grab the containers, and realize they are so big that they are horribly hard to lug around the store. However, I lurch to the cashier - not the stupid express labrynth, but a real one, and the people ahead of me are having some sort of trouble paying. I dunno what's going on, but the guy finally goes to the woman "just call for an overrride" and I should have known it was the cashier from hell. So then they get straightened out, and there is one guy in front of me, and this chick is so frigging slow and then I get a good look at her, and I sort of fall into a trance. You see, she is one of those bun-headed long-haired denim skirt and running shoes wearing women who belong to some sect or other. True, the hair wasn't in a bun nor was it exactly in a pony tail. However, it was done up with a lot of bobby pins - enough so that you can tell she belongs to something. She was wearing a black skirt and not a denim one, but still - you knew. She so wasn't enthused either. So it's my turn and I am wondering who gave her the permission to get a job, because these types usually don't work. I thought her husband or father or minister would have put the kybosh on it, but I guess not. Unless she was being naughty. Anyway, so she is slow and I am beyond grouchy and then I realize that my stupid bank card is sitting in the van so I thankfully have my wallet and pay with Visa. Well, she stares at my card like there is pornographic images coming out of the hologram, and then she gets me to sign on this piece of cupboard the size of a stamp, and then she compares the fucking signatures like she's working for the fucking Franklin MINT and she's making sure the fucking Minnie Pearl commemerative plate she is shipping out is authentic. ANYWAY, then she says in her odd accent "Oh you signed a little differently, do you have some ID" and so instead of being nice like usual, I mutter a band word and wave my licence in her face. But as I walked away, I wondered if she was a Hutterite or something who left the colony. I felt bad I wasn't a model customer but I just wasn't in the mood.

I also feel bad that my former employer is front page news again, and I am taking such glee in it. It's really all hitting the fan right now and I love it. I'm a horrible person.

OMG, there is another TimeLife infomercial on tonight, and tonight it's the guy from REO Speedwagon, and it seems to be a compilation of 80s shit. So far they've shown Journey, Heart, and, of course, REO. Holy moly, is this REO dude OLD. He's all grey and looks like a grandpa. A sort of fruity grandpa, at that. Actually, he looks like Martin Short doing a spoof of a fruity grandpa who used to be in REO Speedwagon. OH MAN, "Feels Like the First Time" - I have such good, nostalgic memories of that one, from like grade two. OH MAN, PETER FRAMPTON! LOL, I better not watch, or I'll order it.
My friend, let's call her... FARGO... once recorded herself singing along to "I Can't Fight This Feeling" and accidently played it in front of me. Oh man, that still cheers me up on a bad day.

OMG, Against All Odds.... seriously, is there a better song than that?

You know, it's unfortunate that Steve Perry had such a hideous nose. People probably hid the coke when he come in the room, because you could suck up the entire population of Peru with that thing. And I mean, he couldn't pick up a groupie and at least PRETEND she was there because of his looks, rather than his fame, and the hopes of him writing another "Oh SHerrie" for her. I suppose that nose would come in handy in an odd way in the bedroom, but still....

You know what I think I will do someday when I get some free time? Write the sequel to "Sister Christian" - 25 years later. You know, tell the whole story of her dropping out of junior college in Hoboken because she was knocked up, and all about her messy marriage and divorce and now her menopausal issues. Motoring indeed, honey.


You know what I'd love? To see reruns of American Bandstand. Fuck those kids sure loved to dance funny.

Oooh, Mr. Mister! Ohh, "You Belong to the City"! Ok, seriously, I gotta change the channel.

You know who I am really into lately? Linda Rondstadt. I don't know why, but I listen to her so much now.

I know, I know, I am just typing to type, but I just don't feel like going to bed. Maybe this nostalgia music is getting to me.

Well, I can't think of anything else to say, so i guess I might as well sign off now. To Golden Globes are now over, y'all, y'all, y'all!