Bit 'o Wisdom Today

overheard on the weekend:

"The girl of your dreams would never take you away from hockey. She would feed you one-timers on Lake Ontario 'til her arms fell off. Adhere."

so true, so true

Losing my wheels = losing my mind


So, I no longer have the use of my Subaru. I am pretty down about this. It all is due to the fact that Geico, the car insurance provider that I acquired whilst in New Hampshire, does not cover Canada - something to do with fault vs no-fault insurance.
"That's fine" I said to myself and promptly I began to look for another provider . . . . . and then I realised that to get insurance here in Canada I need to legally import the car here to Canada, a prospect that will probably end up costing me in the low thousands of dollars. I can't afford that. So, my car languishes in the driveway, undriveable and lonely. It also somehow managed to acquire a flat tire a few days ago. Blah.
So, I am calling the New Hampshire dealership to find out if they'll buy it back, or if it would make more economic sense to just import it and sell it here. In the meantime however this means that I no longer have the freedom that I once did.

I could go anywhere at any time, bound only by the limitations of a 9-5 job. Just hop in the 'Ru and I could go where I please, accompanied by a large selection of cds and a 6 disc changer to bring the sound to me.

Now, I have to share a car with my dad. Not just any car either but a 12 year old Honda that is nearing it's final days. A car that my parents don't trust to go anywhere outside the city.

This bums me out.

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Toronto: The Pathetic Poser City
or, Why I Am Proudly Uncool

So, I was talking to my new Australian friend Evan last weekend and we made plans to get a few people together and go out to a Drum and Bass night so that we could find some good music to dance to. To DANCE to. So, Evan, Brent, Jess and I went out to the Gypsy Co-op on Queen St. West for some Drum and Bass dancing. The music itself was pretty cool.

The people there thought they were.

I haven't seen this many people with arms folded staring at one another since a middle school dance. The only thing that prevented me from believing that I hadn't been magically whisked back to the hallowed gym at Islington Junior Middle School was the fact that the guys and girls weren't standing on opposite sides, staring each other down. The four of us decided to get a dance floor going and hopefully everyone else will start. I must point out that at this time it was around midnight, and there should have been a dance floor started by at least 10 o'clock, but then again I am uncool in this city of attitude, so what do I know. Anyway, the four of us are dancing, the rest of the crowd is standing and staring, the d.j. is spinning some pretty cool music and there's this one weird white guy with a microphone turned down really low and is doing what I can only surmise is some kind of Sean-Paul-faux-reggae-shoutouts/what-the-hell-are-you-doing-you-dumb-putz-shut-up-and-dance. You really had to see it, it was hilarious. The bottom line of this rant story is that only about 10 percent of those in the room were dancing, which seemed silly to me because it was too loud in the bar to carry on any kind of sustained conversation, so the only alternative to dancing was to stand there and pose. Way to go everyone.


So, I need to find another place where there is good music to dance to and people will dance to it.

It's a big city



blargh

ajc