"You realize you haven't blogged since December, right?"

Uh, yeah. I do know that. I'm sorry. But seriously? It's February? February 2008? How did that even happen?

Doesn't it seem like it was just the beginning of 2007 mere minutes ago? 2007, which was terrifyingly known as the year in which I will turn 30 and which will now be remembered as the year in which I turned 30, was pretty good, on the whole. It was a mix of the really good and the horribly awful, which is pretty much par for the course for any year. I did let the blog lag a bit on 2007, and for those of you still reading this, I'm sorry for that. I'll try and do better this year.

I haven't been doing much Londonist-ing either, which I hope to remedy. I'm in LA this weekend for a shoot, then I'm on holiday for a week, and then it'll be March.

March!! Seriously, this year is just disappearing on my at a frightening rate.

Here's an anecdote to keep you amused while I scurry to a corner, curl up in the fetal position and rock back and forth, bemoaning the year slipping away on me.

So, every morning, I get to work about the same time. I usually get off the Tube at 9:30 or so, and as I walk from the station to the office, I generally see the same guy. He's very tall, with glasses and blonde hair. He's walking to the station as I walk away. We don't say hi or anything, because that would be insane, but he's one of the people that I see every day, and if I saw somewhere out of context would spend about an hour thinking "how do I know that guy?".

There are a lot of people I see fairly regularly, but this is the only guy I see virtually every day, no matter whether I'm a bit early or a bit late. And today, I realized why.

I got off the tube at 9:30, and who was walking towards me? TWO of this guy! He's actually identical twins!

I've seen him (or, possibly, one of them) every day for like two years. And I never noticed. I just thought it was weird that this guy had the same schedule I had. But now I don't know if I've actually been seeing one of them, or they've been alternating.

This has really shaken my whole world view.


Twins. That's just so sneaky.

Stalked By Celebrities

Fact. David Thewlis is stalking me.

I know what you're thinking:

"Alice, he's a celebrity. He's in the Harry Potter movies, for God's sake. You're just a television production manager who writes a blog. Why would he possibly be stalking you??"

Well, I don't know the answer to WHY, do I? I'm not the one doing the stalking. But I can tell you that it's happening.

SHOCKING AND TRUE FACT #1:

On Tuesday 4th September 2007, I flew from Dublin to London on an Aer Lingus flight. Who did I notice walking onto the plane in front of me? One David Thewlis. I thought little of it, except that I recognized him but couldn't remember his name at the time and it was driving me crazy. I remembered it a few days later.

SHOCKING AND TRUE FACT #2:

On Sunday 30th September 2007, I flew from Los Angeles to London on a British Airways flight. Who did I notice at gate 120, waiting for the flight? Oh, that's right.

David Thewlis.

And, to make matters even more disturbing, he arrived at the gate before me.

He's clearly not following me - he knows where I'll be before I'm even there.

Spooky, no?

I'm flying to LA again at the end of the month - if he's on my return flight again, I'm calling the cops.

It is kind of flattering though. Hmmm, do you think he reads the blog?

The TV Of My Childhood

I found a link to The Top 10 Unintentionally Funny TV Intros on the always entertaining Pop Culture Junkmail, and found it to be deliciously awesome.

I was inspired by it to look up some of my favourite shows from when I was a kid, and because they are all so eighties fabulous, knew they had to be posted here.

Growing Pains

We moved to Goderich when I was 9. Before then, I really didn't watch much TV. I know, you don't believe it. But it's true. We moved in January, and I remember during one of the first days in Mr. Mason's grade 4 class we were doing a unit on graphs, and the class was taking surveys to display in graph form. Fully half the class covered the riveting topic "What's your favourite TV show", and I didn't have one. That's right. I did not have a favourite television show. I picked Growing Pains because like half of the class had picked it and it's important to conform in the 4th grade.

After that I grew to love it though, and developed the requisite 1987 crush on Kirk Cameron. Ahh, Kirk Cameron. So dreamy before he went insane.

Family Ties

We used to watch Family Ties as a family. Good quality wholesome family fun, that was. Good times. I just bought season 1 on DVD and it's held up pretty well. And it's got a kick ass theme song.

Night Court

I wasn't just a fan of the family sitcom. I also enjoyed a nice office comedy - especially if set in a New York small claims court. Oh, the wackiness! I recall being very invested in the storyline between Markie Post's character and her cop boyfriend. That's right. I cared about Markie Post.

Perfect Strangers

Speaking of awesome theme songs, I love this one. It's so inspirational. And who can't relate to the story of mis-matched cousins from different countries who end up living and working together .... and becoming best friends. I think I'm going to cry.

Facts Of Life

I am female and grew up in the eighties. Of course I love Facts Of Life. It would be crazy if I didn't. Jo was my favourite. I thought she was so cool. Remember, I was very young.

Who's The Boss

I was watching an episode of How I Met Your Mother recently and a character asked who the boss was. Clearly the responses were "Tony", then "Angela", then after a pause "Mona". And I laughed. Oh, how I laughed. I have a very vivid memory of the guys in my sixth grade class all getting their hair cut like the kid who played Jonathan. Like I can laugh though - that was the year of hair sprayed bangs and multi-coloured slouch socks.

Head Of The Class

I loved this show. Less so in the post Howard Hessman days, but I still watched it. Who can dislike a show with many, many musical episodes? Sure, the kids were performing in musicals, but still they did it first. I also had a crush on the tough guy, who also appeared in one of my favourite eighties teen movies Camp Cucamonga.

The Hogan Family

Ah, Jason Bateman before he was cool. Good times, I tell you. I remember shockingly little about this show, but I know I liked it.

Gimme A Break

I used to watch this after school. It was on after Facts of Life, as I recall. You know, I'd bet that in the future, archeaologists are going to find all these sitcoms from the eighties and decide that every household had a sassy black houskeeper and/or a sassy British butler. The main thing is the sass. That's the most importnat part.

Ah, eighties sitcoms. So delightful. Just think - kids growing up today are going to be sitting at their computers reminiscing about that stupid sitcom with James Belushi. These are sad, sad times we live in.

Spelling with Flickr

What's that you say? A way to waste time at work? Fantastic, I say!


I got this from Ragdoll, and found it a fabulous idea. Here's my Flickr blog title:

To make your own, go here. Or, you can look up the letters yourself like a sucker. Not that anyone I know did that. Ahem.

I've seen this like five times now...

but it freaking kills me every time.





Ah, those lolcats. So funny.

Sometimes, photos speak for themselves....

It's like Ticketmaster can see into my soul....

An email I recieved only moments ago:



Because if there are two things I love, then those two things are McFly and Tom Jones.

The last tickets I bought from Ticketmaster were for Bon Jovi. Clearly, this means I am either a thirteen year old girl, or Carlton Banks.

World's Best Singer

So, before the upsettingness of the burglary on Wednesday night, I discovered something magical.

People, I have a spectacular singing voice.

Now, I have always made fun of my singing voice. "Oh, I have the voice of an angel!", I will laughingly say. And I will be joking. Because in my head, I always had the following equation all mapped out: Alice + singing = a sound so bad it makes people cry.

This is not to say that I don't belt out the occasional (and by "occasional", I mean "frequent") number in the privacy of my own home, or my own car. Clearly, I do this. But not ever when anyone can hear me.

See, I had a friend who was an excellent singer and she would always wince whenever I tried to sing something that was stuck in my head. That, added to my own singing insecurities, meant that I didn't ever sing in public. Ever.

But last Wednesday, I ended up at a bar that had a karaoke night on. We'd just sat down with our first bottle of wine, when the 15,000 long song list was thrown down at our table.

"Karaoke! As if!", we scoffed.

Then we cracked open the second bottle of wine. And we peeked inside the song list. The two guys at the table beside us noticed us looking and asked if we were going to sing.

"Us? As if!", we scoffed again.

Then we cracked open the third bottle of wine. No one was singing, so the karaoke organizer type guy was going around to all the tables trying to coerce people to sing.

Karaoke organizer type guy (KOTG): You guys should sing. I bet you're great. Come on, it'll be fun!

Us: Thank you, no.

KOTG: What if I give you a song that's really easy to sing?

Us: Hmmm. Like what?

KOTG: Sounds of the Underground by Girls Aloud?

Us: Um, no.

KOTG: Like a Prayer by Madonna?

Us: Oooooh .... what the hell. Okay.

So, he announces us. And the three of us make our way to the microphones and sing Like A Prayer. And rather than the sneery "nice job ... not" type applause that a shoddy karaoke performance can elicit, we got real applause.

When we got back to the table, the guys at the next table were cheering for us. Apparently, we were awesome. And were the world's fastest karaoke converts.

Our next song (because you knew there was going to be a next song, didn't you?) was Your Song by Elton John. Now, rather than the regular version, we ended up singing the version from Moulin Rouge. This was a mistake. A big mistake. One that I confess was my fault. We were shamed, and needed to make a dramatic comeback.

Clearly, the way to do that was Papa Don't Preach by Madonna, which was once again awesome. We were back on top, baby!

By then, we were good friends with the guys at the next table. Our grand finale? A five person strong version of Sweet Child Of Mine by Guns N' Roses, which was quite the dance floor filler.

I now love karaoke. Love it!

And I no longer have to be shamed by my singing voice, which is also nice.

Concrete Blonde

Brad asked: What I want to know is do you still have that Concrete Blonde t-shirt?

Answer: Hell yeah.

Imagine, if you will, Toronto in September 1992. A young girl from a small town is about to attend her first non New Kids On The Block concert with her two best friends. It's Concrete Blonde on their Walking In London tour and Wendy was a big fan.

All three of us bought t-shirts, as I am prone to do at concerts, and Steph and I wore them pretty constantly. By the time I got to university, it was pretty worn out but I still loved it. It was my signature look - long black skirt, Doc Marten MaryJane style shoes, tights, Concrete Blonde t-shirt and plaid shirt.

I don't wear it anymore, but it's still a much loved item of clothing. It's comfort clothes. It's lasted 14 years, and I think with a bit of care, it'll last another 14.

Outed: I am a Bon Jovi fan.

In January, tickets went on sale for a concert. A concert that I had a not-so-secret desire to see. I immediately called Buni and Sarah, thinking they were pretty much my only friends would be up for the concerty goodness. Sarah declined, as she had already seen the band in concert. Buni was in.

And thus it began.

I bought Bon Jovi tickets.

They were more than I thought they would be, but still I thought, Bon Jovi. C'mon! They're clearly worth it. It was scheduled to be at the new Wembley Arena, so I bought mediocre seats and thought no more of it.

A few months ago, I got an email from Ticketmaster. Wembley wasn't going to be ready, so the concert was being moved to Milton Keynes. Travelling to see Bon Jovi? Even better! Now it's an event!

And yesterday was event day.

The gates opened at 2, so we figured we'd get there for about 3. Nickelback, the opening band, was scheduled to go on at 6, so that would give us plenty of time to snag a good spot. Oh, that's right. We did some planning.

This was the crowd when we arrived. We got there at about 4, and we thought this was crowded.

Oh, we had no idea what was coming. We snagged a spot on the sloped bit, just to the right of this walkway thingy.

After about an hour, a few more people had turned up.

Man, that's a lot of people. So, we sat in the sun for a few hours, drank some beers, contemplated which t-shirts to buy, chatted, the usual. Good times were had by all.

At about 5:30ish, the first opening band went on. It was a band called Spin, who won some kind of contest on some radio station to open for Bon Jovi. They were from Leeds, I think. They were kind of annoying. The lead singer was all "Milton Keynes! You must love us! Now sing along to this song you've never heard! Woooo!" Dude. Relax. They're here to see Bon Jovi. No one cares about you.

Nickelback was on after them. Now, I am not a Nickelback fan. I find them annoying. I tend to describe their music as "that one song and all those other songs that sound like that one song." So, I assumed that they would suck.

Now, we all know what happens when we "assume", don't we? That's right. Nickelback isn't as bad as you think they'll be. What? That's the definition of assume that I'm familiar with. This is just the first time I've been able to properly use it.

The lead singer guy was very funny and charming. So even though I wasn't the hugest fan of their music, I find myself liking them now. At one point Buni turned to me and said "Dude, he just sounded just like you." We're both Canadian. It's in our Canadian genes. We're funny, and we all sound the same.

Not everyone enjoyed the Nickelback though.

This lady slept right through them. Well, you can't win 'em all.

But then Nickelback was done! And you know what that means!

That's right. The last of the sixty five thousand people turned up. All there for Bon Jovi. Sixty. Five. THOUSAND. That is a LOT of freaking Bon Jovi fans.

And then there they were! Bon Jovi, right there in front of me. Well, there were about thirty thousand people in between us. But still!

Bon Jovi! Hee! They came onstage, and I turned to Buni and was all "Dude! That's totally Bon Jovi!" Hee!

I have to say, they were pretty awesome. They played for two and a half hours, pretty much straight. They played most of their big hits, and in a good order. They mixed the big singalong hits with the slightly more obscure songs and newer stuff. And they were great.

They had a bass player, rhythm guitarist and keyboard player with them, but they didn't get any screen time. That was all for Bon Jovi. And they were awesome.

The part that I loved best was that they were clearly having such a good time. And they obviously like each other a lot. And goddamn, Jon Bon Jovi is a good looking guy when he smiles. They were obviously loving the fact that there were sixty five thousand Bon Jovi fans singing along with every word.

When they sang "Livin' On A Prayer", Jon Bon Jovi started by singing the chorus alone by himself on the stage, and got the whole audience singing along. Sixty five thousand people singing the chorus to your song, and clearly loving every single second. How could that not be the biggest rush of all time?

It was dark by this time, and when the song started, the sea of people in front of me lit up with little white lights. Thousands of people recording video and audio on their mobile phones. Awesome.

They didn't play "Blaze of Glory", which was the only disappointment, but it's technically a Jon Bon Jovi solo song, so I didn't really mind.

As the concert was ending, I was getting nervous though. Sixty five thousand people in Milton Keynes. Now, let's say that a quarter of those people were taking the train back to London. That's probably a conservative estimate. So, that's sixteen thousand two hundred and fifty people getting trains, the last of which is leaving at 12:13am. Bon Jovi finished at 10:30. It's a half hour walk back to the station. That means that there will be one hour and 13 minutes to get those sixteen thousand two hundred and fifty people onto trains.

Obviously, some of them are going to be stranded in Milton Keynes. I was determined to not be one of those people. Fortunately, we got on a train. I was happy that we made one. Not everyone shared that sensible attitude. This short blonde woman wearing inappropriate footwear was moaning the entire time we were lined up to get into the station. Now, I thought they had the whole thing organized pretty well. The line was moving, they were only letting people into the station when there were trains to get on, and there were obviously more trains than normal running. But no, she was all "this is so stupid and frustrating, I'm meeting someone, why am I not on a train already, I'm so angry, this is so annoying, why aren't I on a train, I'd better meet that person or I'll kick some ass".

I wanted to kick her ass, but I resisted. I'm strong like that. We got on a train, sadly without any seats left. I sat on the floor and we got to Euston in time for me to catch the second last tube train. Sweet!

Not so sweet was Buni's experience on the tube, where she caught her last train, and ended up on the same car as annoying blonde woman. Apparently her friend was pointing out to her that even though they got back to London later than she planned, they were lucky enough to get the last tube train. Obviously, logic is not welcome to such a crazy person. She's just lucky I wasn't on that train, because I don't know if I'm strong enough not to have kicked her ass then. You do not want to mess with me.

In summary: Bon Jovi is awesome. Blonde women with inappropriate footwear are annoying. The rest of the photos are here. Woo! Bon Jovi!

Underappreciated Film Genres Revealed

So, you know my friend Heather right?

Well, she works from home, which is awesome for her but something I could never do because I would do things like say "Oh, I think I'll just watch Office Space before I finish that spreadsheet" and then I wouldn't get anything done because I have virtually no self discipline. Anyway, I chat with her on Messenger during the day from time to time, and she happened to mention that she was watching the classic 80's film Troop Beverley Hills, the delightful film starring national treasure Shelley Long.

That got us on to a conversation about movies that we loved that are crap. Unsurprisingly, I have many of these.

I was inspired to look up two TV movies I'd recorded as a kid and watched millions of times. To my surprise and delight, both were available on DVD. I wasn't going to pay the crazy Amazon prices of upwards of £10. What am I, made of money? Fortunately, I have had much experience in tracking down the cheap and not very good movie so I headed right over to eBay.

And did I find them? Oh, did I ever!

And that's how the the two greatest TV movies of the late 80's and early 90's came to join my film collection.

Now those of you who didn't grow up in North America perhaps aren't familiar with the phenomenon of the network extravaganza made-for-TV movie. I don't think they exist anymore, but there were certainly tons of them when I was a kid. Basically, a network would pull stars from all its sitcoms and put them in a fantastic film. How could this possibly go wrong?

The first is 1990's Camp Cucamonga.

It's the touching tale of Marvin Schector (John Ratzenberger - Cheers) and his summer camp, Camp Cucamonga.

Marvin, or Colonel Marv as he's known to the campers, has just given up life as an accountant to fulfill his dream of running a camp. Supported by wife Millie (Dorothy Lyman - Mama's Family) and daughter Ava (a pre-Friends Jennifer Aniston - Ferris Bueller), he has to deal with an amusing mix-up between the handyman (Sherman Hemsley - Amen) and the camp inspector (G. Gordon Liddy - no TV shows, but you may remember him from the Watergate scandal. Seriously. No, seriously.). The mix-up results in the camp losing its accreditation. Oh no! How can the camp survive?

Why, it's resourceful campers to the rescue! Rebellious Lindsey (Danica McKellar - The Wonder Years) is finding it tough to fit in at camp. She's made friends with fellow outcast Max (Josh Saviano - also The Wonder Years), but isn't fitting in with fellow campers Amber (Candace Cameron - Full House), Dennis (Jaleel White - Family Matters) and Frankie (Chad Allen - My Two Dads). Will her suggestion of a rap video to send to the head of the camping association save the camp, win the friendship of the other campers (and Frankie's heart) and aid the blossoming relationship between Ava and fellow counsellor Roger (Brian Robbins - Head of the Class)?

Well, I don't want to spoil it for you, so I won't tell you. But I will tell you that the Camp Cucamonga rap is the single best thing ever. (Camp Cucamonga, oh yeah, oh yeah).

The second film is my favourite. I recorded it from TV in 1988, and probably watched it about seven thousand times before the tape was lost.

It's classic film Dance 'Til Dawn. I seriously cannot tell you how much I love this movie. Love, love, love.

It's the moving story of the graduates of the '88 class of Hoover High. It focuses on several different groups of teenagers and their parents, and I don't know how you can fail to be delighted.

Class popular girl Shelley Sheridan (Alyssa Milano - Who's The Boss) hasn't been asked to the prom by her boyfriend of four years Kevin McCrea (Brian Bloom - As The World Turns) because he doesn't think she'll put out. Encouraged by his friends, Kevin asks out school weirdo Angela Strull (Tracey Gold - Growing Pains) who he thinks is a slut. Angela forgoes her longstanding plans with best friend Margaret (Tempestt Bledsoe - The Cosby Show) and agrees to go with Kevin.

While avoiding the prom, while still pretending to her parents that she's going with Kevin, Shelley runs into class geek Dan Lefcourt (Chris Young - Max Headroom). Dan is hiding out from his father, Jack Lefcourt (Alan Thicke - also Growing Pains), who thinks that he's actually cool.

Angela surprises her friends and Kevin by turning into a hot chick when she puts on her mom's old black sequined prom dress. Her dad (Kelsey Grammer - Cheers) is scandalised when he meets Kevin, whom he sold condoms to earlier. Certain that Kevin is up to no good, he and Angela's mom (Edie McClurg - The Hogan Family) follow them for the night and get up to all kinds of wacky hijinks.

Class snob Patrice Johnson (Christina Applegate - Married with Children), along with her lazy boyfriend Roger (a pre-friends Matthew Perry - Second Chance), is determined to be prom queen and have a fabulous apres prom party. Her parents, prom chaperones Nancy (Mary Frann - Newhart) and Larry (Cliff De Young - the only cast member without a TV show), are going through a rough patch and are planning to divorce.

Will Margaret find out that Kevin is using Angela for sex? Will Shelley and Dan realize that popular kids and geeks can both be lonely? Will Angela be named prom queen? Will Kevin realize that he likes Angela for herself, not just her imaginary sluttiness? Will Patrice and Roger be stranded and unable to attend the apres prom party? Will Nancy and Larry remember why they fell in love in the first place? Will Angela reject Kevin and achieve a new self confidence? Will Shelley and Dan fall in love? Will Roger dump Patrice and announce that he wants to be a fireman?

If you answered no to any of those questions, then you have clearly never watched TV or seen a movie before, and I obviously have nothing in common with you.

I can't even tell you how happy it makes me to have these two movies in my collection.

Now, I just have to track down this one that Aaron told me about - 1988's Crash Course. I haven't seen it, but I know I'll love it.

Converted on the Northern Line

You know what I love about London? I love how you can be on your way home from an impromptu weeknight drinking session, and someone on the tube tries to convert you.

Okay, that’s not something that happens often or anything like that and it’s not really specifically London-related, but it did happen last night.

I was on the tube with my good friend Mrs. D chatting drunkenly (and therefore loudly) when the guy sitting next to me turned around and asked me where I was from.

(That’s not as creepy as it sounds – I get asked that a few times a week. Apparently my delightful accent makes people want to talk to me. And oh, it’s delightful.)

So, I say Canada, because it’s true, and he then asks me if I’ve accepted Jesus Christ as my personal saviour. You know, as you do.

Now, clearly, I should have given him the patented “Bitch Stare” and continued talking to Mrs. D. Or, I could have said “yes, I’m totally down with the big JC” and turned away. But I think those of you who know me will know better than that.

Did ignore him?

Oh no.

I obviously say “why, no”, giving him the perfect opportunity to enlighten me on all that I’m missing. Turns out he’s from Florida, and he’s moved to England to be with others of his kind, or something like that. ‘Cause there certainly aren’t any evangelical Christians in Florida. But anyway, in this informal missionary capacity, he apparently likes to chat to people on the tube about the Lord. He didn’t give us his name, so I’ll just have to call him The Believer.

The Believer probably though that we were in need of religion, as we were totally drunk on a Tuesday night, and figured that we’d be easy converts. What with the drunk. But, while I certainly can be talked into almost anything when I’m drunk, changing my personal philosophical and religious beliefs at the suggestion from a stranger isn’t quite so easy.

But I was the least of his worries. I may have been a drunken yet entertained agnostic, but he had a drunken theology-schooled atheist to deal with. And she was far tougher than me.

In the trip between Tottenham Court Road and Tufnell Park we covered whether the Bible is historically accurate, the true nature of faith, general spirituality, the original language in which the Bible was written (to which The Believer's companion kept saying "I am German") and when said writing occured. Mrs D also informed him that "one must always know thoroughly what one means to surmount", which I think just confused him. Too many big words.

It was all very enlightening, and highly entertaining.

Needless to say, the attempted convert failed, we're still hellbound and beyond saving. I'm cool with remaining firmly on the “going to hell” list. But really, all the cool people are going to be down there.

It’ll be a way better party.

Bacon, anyone?

These may be the most awesome things I have ever seen. Gross, yet fabulous. Is there any better combination?

Man, you can always find the coolest stuff at Pop Culture Junkmail.

Anyone want to buy me some?

The Luckiest Time Of Them All

“You know, we're now at 17 days since you lasted posted on your blog. It’s like I don't even know who you are anymore.” - Anon.

In honour of the lameness of my non-posting, I’m going to share something very special with you all.

I have a lucky time.

Now, I know that a lot of people have a lucky number. Mine, for example, is 27. And that is why I know that 2004/2005 is going to be awesome, because I am now 27, so clearly it’s going to be my favourite year. But that is not my point today.

And people have a lucky colour, or a lucky rabbit’s foot or a lucky pet or a lucky sweater or lucky underwear or lucky parents or any number of lucky things.

Of course, to be fair, it’s not my lucky time alone. It’s a generally lucky time that all can share in.

It just makes good sense when you think about it. It seems obvious that a time with a double number in it is mildly lucky. For example, 9:22 is a lucky-ish number. What with its double 2’s.

2:22 (or 1:11 or 3:33 or 4:44 or 5:55) appears to be very lucky, until you take into account the idea of a 24 hour clock, which you would use if you were in the military or Europe. Then 2:22 becomes 14:22 or 02:22 (depending on time of day) and it’s not so lucky after all.

Similarly 22:22 seems lucky in 24 hour time, but when you convert it to standard North American time telling, it becomes a disappointing 10:22.

I’m sure you’re seeing where this is going.

The luckiest time of all?

11:11.

Doesn’t it look pretty? And, clearly, it’s very lucky. Otherwise, how would I suddenly look at the clock at 11:11 on many, many days? How would I just instinctively know that it’s lucky?

I don’t have any conclusive proof of why it’s lucky. I just know.

And, now that you’re aware of it’s mystic and awesome powers, I hope that you’ll know too.

Keep a look out for things that happen at 11:11. I’ll just bet they’re lucky.

Best Search Phrase

As previously mentioned, there's a feature that lets me see how people came to be at the blog.

One way is search engines. And, happily, it tells me what they were searching for when they found me.

Best phrase yet?

"Where to sell your hair in Montreal"

Awesome.

I have no idea, but now I'm kind of curious.

Next Step: World Domination

So, there's this thing you can do when you've got a blog such as this one that invloves tracking who comes to visit you and see where they come from.

Most of my links come from Cheryl B's blog (hi people from Cheryl's blog!), and some from search sites. That is the jive that I'm usually hip to.

But, when I checked on the weekend, I noticed a new linker. Mediagirl.org. "Who is this media girl?", I thought. Being the kind of girl who gets straight down to business, I went to the website almost immediately. I may have had a diet coke inbetween the thought and the action. It was on the weekend. Who can remember?

It's a cool site for women and girls of all shapes and sizes who are involved in the media industry. Just like me! And, on the left hand side of the main page, there's a list of links. And who's on it? You'll never guess.

I'll give you a hint. It starts with M and rhymes with "smee".

It's me!

It's my first non-friend link! How delightful! I'm listed as "whimsical, serious blogging". Is that me? I suppose so. I don't really think of myself as "serious". But I like whimsical quite a lot!

I don't know how they/she found me, but hello! And send me an email or comment to let me know, cause I'm ever so curious.

So, now that I'm famous the next stop is clearly world domination. Woo hoo!

Welcome ..... to the world of Tron

Tired of the post-election stress?

Well, Kobrinsky sent me the best link ever today. And, as I'm ever so fond of y'all, I decided to share it with you.

This man is awesome.

If you're normally too lazy to click on links, trust me. This one is worth it. You'll especially want to scroll down to the bottom to hear his "lessons learned".

Tron always makes me think of Wendy and our trip to California in the summer of '93.

We went to Disneyland, and naturally tried to go on as many rides as possible. Our favourite was a somewhat unconventional choice.

The PeopleMover. Now, tragically, the PeopleMover closed for good in 1995, but thanks to the magic of the internet, you can still experience the wonder of it here.

The best bit was when you drove ever so slowly into this darkened room with lasers everywhere, and then a voice dramatically announced "Welcome .... to the world of Tron!".

I can't even truly express how fabulously horrible it was. We went on it like eight times, and took photos of ourselves on it. Good times, good times.