Bathos for Babs

You won't believe this, because I can't: I was looking through a list of my old music (circa CEGEP) on my computer and I noticed that for some unexplained reason I have Barbara Streisand's "Memories" on my playlist. To add insult to injury, the tagline says "Music From CATS", which must have been a selling point at the time. No, I do not remember downloading this, but I do take full credit for doing so, seeing that I am the only person who uses this computer. I am so embarrassed I want to go back in time and whip myself with a leather belt.
Someone must have put a gun to my head to download it, maybe the financial backer from the Toronto production of CATS.

"My Wrists Are on Fire, Sally"

Last night I tossed in bed for a good hour, the veins in my hands were throbbing. I think I developped carpal tunnel syndrome from typing like an neanderthal. Somebody needs to break me, give me a bottom-up typing class a la Mavis Beacon (holla).

As for other matters,I just have to comment on the trend of people "hanging out" in public bathrooms. When did this become Kosher? Seriously people, this is the lowest,scummy behaviour. I personally like to spend the least amount of time possible in one of these hell holes, but that's just me.

I feel like just a baby, portrait of a lady

I am craving a good laugh right now...A breathless, teary eyed, euphoric laugh; the kind that leaves you unable to stand. Take in mind that I have just read the depression that is King Lear, so pretty much anything will elicit such laughter in my choleric mind. My brain just needs to bathe in some sweet seratonin for a while, let that marinate.

All things considered I am happy! I have have been wrapt up in an amazing, ridiculous, all-consuming whirlwind these past few weeks. I would wish for my world to stop spinning, but where is the fun in that? It's nice to know that I have people in my corner, especially in these dreary, depressing winter days. Speaking of which, the rooftop of the apartment across my street is shaped like a V, and as the snow drifts onto it, it oddly resembles a martini glass filling up. Yeah you know someone's a lush when...

Nougat Mail

I just ate a piece of almond nougat that my mom got at some middle eastern store: texture was awesome, taste left something to be desired--> hints of jasmine and rose water, they have no place in candy.

I have been working on a fiendish poli sci paper all day. Let me give you a visualization: Me, hair in loose pony tail, yellow snowflake jammies, complexion of Jessica Tandy (cira Driving Miss Daisy). I have not uttered one word all day, which I'd like to label as "liberating", but I will chalk it up to my hermit-like eXistenZ. All I do is check my mail and procrastinate, a deadly combo. Take in mind that I am still smiling, despite all this and the snow.

Gem in Eye

Sorry sister for your Gemini loss, but at least you got to drink free booze and keep your job!
This will cheer you up: the Dutch have created a procedure to implant jewlery in eyeballs. That's exactly where I want my rocks, where I can see them.

Ay Dios Mio!

I'm just working away on a little paper as we speak, but I am so distracted by the INTENSE yelling that I hear from beneath my floorboards. OMG, it sounds like a grown man is being reamed by his elderly Spanish/ Portuguese mother. I personally have heard the word "puta" tossed around six times at least. This is embarrassing...for him, and it is distracting for me. HOLY SHIT..wow, new outburst, I won't be surprised if this ends with a bitchslap/ gun shot.

The Suite Hereafter

I woke up a little while ago, meandered into my kitchen and made myself some coffee. When I drink coffee, I like to watch T.V, just so I have someone to talk to. So I turn on the tube and to my dismay there is nothing on but Saturday morning children's drivel (which I stopped watching post-Ninja Turtles era). I decided I could sit through five minutes of this crap, but I was not prepared for what I was to witness:

The show I happened to stumble upon was centered around the "kooky" domestic lives of 11 year old twins who live with their mom and their maid (played by Estelle Harris, clearly picking up on the trend of post-Seinfeld disasters) in a hotel. BTW, these twins are the same little douche bags who "catapulted" to fame in 1999 in the crap-fest "Big Daddy" with Adam Sandler. I was shocked/ appalled/ amused by the fact that these HORRIBLY UNTALENTED pint-sized thespians get paid to act. Not to mention the pander they had to deliver was so unfunny, I could have barfed a better script onto a cocktail napkin. I was clearly so fascinated by this car wreck that I took the time to IMDB it and find out what's the dilly:

THE SUITE LIFE OF ZACK AND CODY: "Cole and Dylan Sprouse star in this bright new comedy for the Disney Channel about identical twins living at the Tipton Hotel with their single mother who is a lounge singer at the hotel. Ashley Michelle Tisdale stars as the hotel's teenage gift shop clerk and part-time babysitter who foils the twins' antics"

Did I forget to mention that their mother resembles a blonde, but haggard Carol Burnett after a coke binge? I have heard enough hotel oriented puns to last me a lifetime now.

Here's a jem of dialogue, kinda Freudian too:
Carey: He's just trying to keep this hotel running smoothly, and you guys tend to be *un-smooth*.
Cody Martin: Yeah. Un-smooth like when mom doesn't shave her legs for two weeks.

Don't stare at this image too long, it has a tendency to sear itself into your brain and then cause a grand mal seizure.

Anyways, I have a creepy premonition that I will be sued for slander by Disney after this post, so I say long live free speech, like any good liberal girl would.

I Just Can't Think Straight

I have demolished my own lexicon, so do not expect great shakes from me today. I am apt to forget everything in my life unless I write a little note about it (i.e I just remembered that a mouse ate my cherished stocking this past Christmas, so sad). I have copious amounts of work to do, but I can't bring myself to start...I am eating Mediterranean set style yoghurt.

P.S: I'm so happy that you can see this pun. Tongue in cheek, all the way.

Disturbing Realization

I went to Janna's "Fucking Sweet" birthday party yesterday and I took quite a few pictures, but when I uploaded them to my computer this morning, I noticed that my hands are EXTREMELY awkward in every picture. Take a look for yourself:

This one looks like I'm making a gang symbol.

This is what I term my "Vanna White" hand. Display purposes only.

This one is special because these are my "action hands", so delicately gripping my phone like a velociraptor.

And now the piece de resistance: My hands awkwardly holding a kitten!
No animals were harmed in the taking of this picture. Please don't hold this against me, I love animals.

I know it's hard to believe, but my hands aren't really that insanely retarded normally, they're just not photogenic.

Verbal Exchange

This is the verbatim transcript of the conversation I overheard my parents having while I was eating breakfast this morning:

Mom:(serious, worried tone) Dave, you just stepped on a ladybug, you crushed it, God!

Dad: Hunh..what?

Mom:(bending down for closer inspection)Oh, it was just a raisin.

In other exciting news I finished a Sudoku in record time ce matin. I just started doing them, but I feel like I am unusually adept. Somebody should cat-scan or MRI my brainzel while I'm doing one.

Riding Bareback

I'm introducing a new feature today, it's called "A Tan Predicts the Future". I'd like to think that I have a finger on the pulse of pop culture, so I will venture a clairvoyant vision into the Next Big Thing in terms of cinematic crushes: Max Minghella. Max is the son of director Anthony Minghella (Cold Mountain) and at twenty big ones, he's a ripe and viable undergrad at Columbia (also the alma matter of my personal obsession Jake G). M.M is set to grace the big screen in Bee Season alongside Richard Gere and in Syriana with George Clooney this year. Take in mind that my prediction is not truly avant guard, buzz about this hottie has been floating around H-Wood for a while, but I want to lay down dibs while I still can, while the meat is fresh.
Chaud

P.s I apologize the low-brow nature fo this post. I'm on a P.C, my life is not the same, I am a cretin.

Your Gordon Gekko to My Bud Fox

As much as I love power positions, it's a damn shame to find myself on the bottom. I've said it, I'm defeated. You are a psychological genius, a true mastermind. I just bought one thousand shares of you, because your "sell" is unparalleled:


I'm so tired I would buy anything now. This includes "Shamp Delicato"Nothing screams medical grade scalp cleanser like Shamp Delicato. I took this pic in front of a ceratin St-Laurent coiffeuse that I certainly won't be attending, hint hint.

The White Stripes-Denial Twist

Has anyone else seen this video? It features a prominent appearance by my man-bride Conan and it's directed by Michel Gondry (Eternal Sunshine) so you know it is weird, but ultimately fascinating. There's a link to the vid at Oh No, so I shall spare the redundancy of posting it.

Carelman's Coffeepot for Masochists

This elicited more than a chuckle this morning (it was early).

Humble and Foxy

Always suspected, but now confirmed: Bijan is a total babe! He's so fetch and he's my friend, which makes me vicariously sultry.

Check out Soyastereo at www.soyastereo.com where you can soon see other delicious pics of the boys and download their song "Chocolate Eyes" (allegedly written for a certain condiment-y friend of ours).

Ode to Cotton Balls

This is my rad-i-cal ee cummings style tribute to those soft little heaven sent puffs:

"Personelle-Giant Puffs"- by A Tan
u are so
Soft and I didn't know
that I wanted you/
needed you so bad-ly
that day I went to
pharmaprix,
but I bought u anyway,
such a big bag, thought I,
100 plus twenty (eco-no-mically
sized). Ev'ry day u touch,
my face--
wipe off my maquillage, my polish,
I know, that you, were
so worth it.

No folks, this is not some clever euphemism, this my real love for a humble hygienic product whose slutty sister (cotton swab) always steals the hype.

Rear Window: Outside Looks In

Ewww...I just went to close my window and as I was fiddling with the screen, some pervert in a trench coat started waiving to me. Whereas normally I welcome lechery, this time I just frowned and closed my curtains. Okay, maybe he was not a pervert per se, he kinda looked like a business man and had just stepped out of an Audi, but he managed to violate my spatial boundries. I become the Object of the Gaze, and he became the voyeur. This is a facsimilie of what he looked like. Have you seen this man?

All this without even leaving my house...which is what I'm about to do now. I'm submitting myself to patriarchy and going out for dinner avec le frat. I am underdressed, but so resourceful: as I was straightening my hair, I noticed the satin ribbon on my pants was crinkled and gave it a little run-over with the flat iron. See, I may attend an Ivory Tower university, yet I manage to retain some tactical street smarts.

In other news, I found a perfect applicant to fill my personal assistant position:No, ladies, you can't borrow him.

The Milk of Human Kindness: Love Edition

Who remembers this priceless picture from a few years back?Apparently C. Love was on one of her infamous benders that night and breast fed some random dude, just cause' he asked if he could. What you can't tell from this picture is that this all went down in front of a Burger King, now that's classy.

Let me balance the wholesomeness of this post by including a pic of the cupcakes my mom made for Halloween.That's all icing baby...They are carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.

Did anyone else hear that Manhattan smelled like maple syrup last week? It's true, reported in the New York Daily News, so insane!!! If anyone responsible for that loveliness is reading this, can you make Montreal smell like cotton candy or caramel popcorn? That would give me extra incentive to get up each day.