Today's tidbit of advice.

When you're going to go sit by the lake and smoke some crack, do your best to make sure it's not a lake full of gators (and try to keep your clothes on)....

You're Welcome.

~sarah p.

25 Things (#s 19-15).

So far, I have slowly but surely been working my way down the list. I did not go out this weekend (that's one down), and I have had many offers of help from some pretty amazing people.

Here are my five goals for this week:

19. Take in one roll of film for developing.
Have I ever showed any of you guys the amount of undeveloped film I have? I probably have 30 rolls of film that I have shot and never gotten processed. Some are from when I was in school, some of them are from my time in the States, and some are from like a month ago. At random, I will choose one single roll and get it developed.

18. Get all of my shopping done by December 15th.
Call me a terrible person, but do you guys have any idea how much I hate Christmas shopping? Don't get me wrong, I love the mall, but at this time of year, it's full of a bunch of pushy people that smell bad. Full-on celebrating Christmas is pretty new to me, but for the past few years, I've been putting off most of my shopping until December 23rd. I'm going to do my best this year to have everything settled by the 15th of December.

17. No smoking (not smoking-smoking, you guys know what I'm talking about) during the week.
It's bad for me, plain and simple. Part of being an adult is dealing with reality, and I haven't been doing the best job at that... Weekends are still okay.

16. Call my dad.
My dad is a top-notch guy, but he also lives in Ireland. I write him quite a bit, but haven't been making the best effort at actually picking up the phone. So, one day soon, I will get up very early, or stay up very late, and give him a call.

15. Stop eating out so much on weekdays.
I am now allowed to have my normal Taco Tuesdays, and lunch with Dr. J on Thursdays, and that's it. I'm still allowed to go out on weekends, though, because I don't know what I'd do without my Chinese BBQ (or sushi).

Once again, thanks so much for all of the offers of help.... More to come.

~sarah p.

Oooh, the things I do while drinking (alternate title: Jess is my Scattergories partner forever).

A big thanks to Jess for having us over for some food and Scattergories on Saturday. I was lucky enough to have her as my partner as well, and I'm going to get bold here and say that we are the best Scattergories players of all time.

Then, I drank an entire bottle of wine, and got into the playdough with Crystal.

I made a hot dog, a giant sloth, a pig, and an elephant.

I don't really remember having a wedding or anything, but I think I am officially off the market. It seems that Crystal and I got married, as she made me the most lovely ring. Poor gal, now she has to support my broke ass (I do, however, cook nice meals almost every night, and will agree to putting out maybe once a week).

~sarah p.

p.s. I did it! I didn't go to the bar at all this weekend. One goal down, twenty-four to go.

I don't like Ziggy, and I don't like fish that try to impersonate Ziggy.

~sarah p.

25 Things (#s 25-20)

I love my job, but they pay me next-to-nothing. I love the people that surround me, but my personal-life is in shambles. It's become painfully obvious to me that I have some changes that need to be made. Baby-steps, as they say....

My 25th birthday is a month-and-a-half away, and I have been doing a lot of thinking. I have seen so much and experienced some amazing things, but there are also so many things that I always meant to do, but didn't get around to it. I'm a thinker... I spend soooo much time thinking every day, and it's time I started actually using some of the thoughts that float around inside of my head.
I've decided to make a list of 25 things that I need to do by January 14th. I'll make a list of five things per week for the next five weeks. The goals don't necessarily have to be reached within the week, but all 25 goals much be achieved by my 25th birthday.

To begin, here are my five goals for this week:

25. Learn how to properly cut up a whole chicken.
One time I bought a whole chicken and tried to cut it up, and by the time I was through with it, it looked like someone had torn into it with a chainsaw. Really, I pretty much gave up on ever cutting up a whole chicken ever again. If you've ever seen me, it's quite obvious that I like good food, and I enjoy cooking, so I should probably know one of the most basic cooking skills ever by now.
24. Start up a new project.
I'll admit it, I went to art-school. I used to love taking photos and framing and doing cello-tracings. Then, one day, it just stopped. For years, people have been asking when I would be starting up a new project. To be honest, I haven't had the inspiration... I was waiting until I got the most awesome idea ever. Well yesterday, out of nowhere, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm not going to say much, but it involves sewing (one of my least favorite things) and hip hop (one of my most favorite things). Be ready, I think it actually might be kind-of cool.
23. Stay in for an entire weekend.
You know, sometimes I wonder why I'm poor. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I go out two, three, four times a week. The weekday nights aren't so rough on the wallet, as I can't get too sauced anyway, but the weekends drain my bank account like nobody's business. The only time I ever stay in on weekends is when I am too sick to leave the house, and since I got my flu-shot this year, I'm not expecting that to happen very soon. One weekend, before I'm 25, I will not go out to the bars for two full days, and three full nights.
22. Drive a car down the block.
I have an irrational fear of driving. I'm pretty sure that if I got my license, I would end up unintentionally killing someone (or several people). I've only driven three times in my life... The last time was when I was 17, I was camping in Kamloops, and I drove a VW bus around the block a few times at 3AM when I was drunk (I know, I know). I don't think I'll end up endangering the roads by getting my license just yet, but I would like to drive down the block. At 3AM. Sober this time.
21. Make some matzo ball soup.
Growing up in Calgary in an athiest family, I was never exposed to the finer points of Jewish cuisine. However, a good amount of time spent in the five boroughs made me realize that matzo ball soup is totally one of my favorite things. Since I haven't run across a place that has a decent kosher menu in Calgary, I think I need to learn how to make it myself. I can kill two birds with one stone, as I'll need a chicken to make the stock. The tough part is going to be finding the matzo flour.
20. Go out and drink nothing but dark liquor all night.
I like dark rums and whiskies, I really do, and it's common for me to start out my night with a whiskey sour or bourbon on the rocks. However, once I get out anywhere, I start to wuss out. Soon enough, I've got a gin and soda in my hand. As much as it's going to hurt me the next day, I am going to go out and drink dark-colored booze all night. You'd think I would have done this by now, and I've certainly thown my share of whiskey into the shit-mix, but a full night? That's yet to come.


If you have any suggestions on goals for future weeks, or if you'd like to help me achieve anything, let me know. I may need some help along the way.


I'm trying to make things better. Promise.

Thanks. You guys are the best.

~sarah p.

R.I.P. Michael Jackson.

What's that? He's not dead? Hmm... Coulda fooled me.

~sarah p.

Thanks, Kool Keith (too bad we didn't get married).

The other day, I was in the car with Allison, and I said to her "I don't know, man. If Kool Keith busts out any Ultramagnetic MCs, I'm going to flip". Well, guess what material he started out with last night? Yep.
I ended up right by the stage, one of the few perks of being so freakishly tiny. Then, he did this crazy montage of tracks, and I was up on stage getting myself grabbed from every angle, and.... Well, let's just stop the story there. Point is, I hugged Kool Keith, and the show did not disappoint at all.

~sarah p.

Keith 'N Me.

One more day...

I really hope he performs some jams off of Sex Style, that's totally my favorite album (I know, I know... He's coming as Dr. Octagon, but from what I've heard, it's more of a Kool Keith show than anything). As well, I hope he agrees to father my children (I would like my childen to know how to kick rhymes from the time they learn how to speak).

~sarah p.

p.s. Cop this brand new TTC track over at Fluo Kids. Freshhhh.

Celebrity Jeopardy (awful, awful, awful).

Here's the plan:
I need to get a little famous. Not famous enough for people to bug me when I'm out trying to buy black-market prescription pills, but famous enough for me to get onto Celebrity Jeopardy.
Now, I'm not claiming to be a genius, but you'd only need to have the IQ of a patio set to be the best Celebrity Jeopardy player ever.
I think I could totally handle standing up on that sound-stage with Trebek infront of me, two drug-addicted quasi-stars to the left and right of me, sweating harder everytime they whittle down their choices to the point where they actually have to choose out of the single intellectual category on the board.

"I'll take Breakfast Cereals for $100, Alex"
"I'll take Kitties for $400"
"I'll go with Puffy Things for $200"
"I'll go with *sweat* Fundamentalism and the Modern World for $800"

Tonight I watched the entire show, and I don't think any of the celebrities got a single Daily Double correct. I don't even think they realized that they were on Jeopardy for most the show. They were all too busy thinking about pomade and leopard print handbags and $100 burgers and box-seats to the Knicks game and chauffeurs. I could have totally beat any of those guys in my sleep.

Here's where the plan gets clever:
Prior to getting famous, I register myself as a charity (really, I'm totally poor, so it's pretty legit). Then, I go onto Celebrity Jeopardy and win, win, win. When they ask me what charity I would like to donate my winnings to, I run off with the cheque in my hands, laughing into the night.

It's pretty much foolproof.

~sarah p.

p.s. I'm totally just writing stupid entries right now to distract myself from the fact that I will be seeing Kool Keith in 4 days.

Cookies for dinner.

You know, my parents may not give me any money or even acknowledge that I'm actually their child half the time, but let me tell you: they keep my cupboards fully stocked with cookies.

When I was a kid, I always thought that the best part about being an adult was going to be having financial freedom (just barely), watching movies with dirty parts (which is pretty sweet afterall), and staying up late (as a now-insomniac, maybe I shoulda been a little more careful what I wished for).
That stuff is all pretty good, but let's not kid ourselves: the best part about being an adult is eating whatever you want, whenever you want.

I think my parents (stepfather aside, as he had no part in my juvenile nutrition) recognize that due to the fact that my sister and I were deprived of sweets and delicious garbage-food as children (fucking vegans), we deserve a little payback in our adult years (either that, or they're planning on fattening me up so they can eat me).

All expanding-waistlines aside, I very much appreciate when they go down to the States and bring me back packages and packages of American cookies. Take it from someone who knows: Americans know their junk. They are amazingly good at taking a normal cookie, like an Oreo, and cramming even more sugar into it by using some sorts of coating or filling (and those Keebler elves? I don't know how they do it, but those dirty little elf-hands make one hell of a cookie). Thanks, America.

~sarah p.

The rest of it.

On Friday, I stayed in and watched Punky Brewster on youtube (she learned that reading was cool by meeting Debarge... I'm not joking), so by Saturday I was ready for some action. Off to the Rhino:

First and foremost, the game had to be watched.

Then it was all about dancing and hugging.....

...and maybe it was about drinking, too.

Ladies, ladies, ladies.

Guess who was there? Yep, Ryan.

So, this guy named Wonka was there, and he told me not to eat this gum that he had, but guess what I did? Yep, I ate it anyway. Then, I turned all blue. Jessica turned blue too, but it's because she hugged me too much, and got some sort of a contact-buzz or something.
Either that, or the lighting was kinda funny when Allison took the photo. I don't remember.

We ended up at Hifi. Don't ask me how that happened, but I do know that I shouldn't have had one last drink there. I did not need it... Thank god for friends that are wise enough to buy gatorade for the morning.

~sarah p.

p.s. I am so serious about that episode of Punky Brewster.
Look:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

p.p.s. RIP ODB.... Memorial mixtape should be posted sometime tomorrow on supermegafunzone.

The Thursday-night part of a four-day long weekend.

Eeeeveryone was out on Thursday. The bar was electric...

...But not as electric as this shirt.

I was totally amped-up, even though I was running a pretty nice fever.

Guess who else was sick? Yep, Crystal.

When Crystal is sick (and has taken some medication and booze), you can totally grab her boob, and she won't even flinch or push your hand away.

Cups n' hair. No big thing.

We hadn't seen Duane in a loooong time.

Once in a while during the night, I would remember that I was sick and get all serious for like a minute..

...But it didn't take long for me to forget again.

At points, Crystal forgot about the whole 'being sick' thing too.

~sarah p.

p.s. Today, I went to Chinatown and I got a new kung-fu DVD, purple fishnets, and some pork. Somehow, I think I can pull a pretty fun evening out of that combo.

Flu shots make you feel bad in a whole new way.

I'm certainly not dying or anything, but I am not feeling too great today after getting a flu shot. At work, I hang out with children and the elderly all day, so I thought to myself "It can't hurt". It is now the eve of my 4-day long weekend, and I feel all shakey and feverish. Nice going, flu shot.
Can I sleep it off and maybe even go for beers tonight? Probably.
Will I get one next year? Probably not.

~sarah p.

Do me a favor:

Go to Goldenbowl.ca and vote for Frontside as your favorite shop in the Prairie Provinces category.
My best blog-partner in the whole world, Pickle, needs to go to Montreal. I think he thinks that Calgary's version of poutine is lackluster at best (he's right).

Thanks.

~sarah p.

Daaaammmnnnn. (no circles anymore, please)

Man, you know what I am not into right now at all? Circle dancing. You know what I'm talking about... Like, when you're at Rhino, and a pretty serious track comes on, and you make your way out to the floor, but it's all packed-up because there's some little white kid doing flips in the middle of a circle, and everyone around him is stroking his ego and making noises like "ooooh", and "daaaaammmnn", and then another little tiny kid gets in the circle, but this time he's asian, and does the same thing, and it continues on for like three hours. I realize that these suburban kids think they can break, but who are we kidding? Dancing is crazy fun, but dancing for the purposes of amusing others in the middle of a crowded bar? Not fun.

I mean, I guess there is instances where it's okay, but they are pretty specific.

For example:
If you were a guy who looked like you just kinda rolled out of bed, kinda like how ?uestlove looks every day, but with the best shoes anyone has ever seen. Nobody had ever seen you dance before.... You're always just sitting on the outskirts of the dancefloor and drinking Jack over ice, and stepping in as the occasional wingman once in a while.
Anyway, so a track comes on, one of those songs that everyone's secretly been going apeshit about in their bedroom every night (but you don't want anyone to know that you like). Without a word, it is collectively decided among the patrons that it is actually okay to be into the song, and the dancefloor fills up.
While everyone is busting a nut over the track, you slip out, unseen, into the middle of the dancefloor, and a circle magically forms around you. You throw down some moves for like 45 seconds that make everyone else a little less confident about their dance-style, and go sit down like it's no big thing (plus you have like the best weed ever in your jacket pocket, so you're not thinking about dancing anymore).

If everything happened exactly in that order, I guess the circle would be okay. Otherwise, clear the dancefloor, assfaces.

~sarah p.

Love you, Tracy Morgan.

It really doesn't matter how many failed TV shows you have, I still love you with my whole heart.
p.s. Bonus points for kicking it with Kelis.
p.p.s. If your name is Tracy Morgan in real life, and your show was called "The Tracy Morgan Show", then why was your character's name Tracy Mitchell? Just asking, still love you.

~sarah p.

Trevor: a tribute.

First of all, before I even start, congrats to Dustin on the opening of his new shop. Thanks for having us.

We ended up at Amsterdam Rhino, and guess who was there?
Trevor (yessssss).

Trevor was biting from the get-go, so I knew it was going to be a good night.

La Swan took it easy on the chairs. Trevor took it easy with her (for like two seconds).

Trevor turned into an old gritty sailor at some point, and shared some sea-stories with Pickle (I guess that's what happened? Trevor looks awfully Maritimey).

It's nice to be around someone at my level sometimes (especially when they wear their shirts like an 80's teenybopper).

So, I'm dancing and rapping like I normally do, and guess who's pants kept falling down? Yep, you guessed it. It's okay, though, because:
1. It's Trevor
2. It was only like a billion degrees in there, and it must have felt kinda nice.
Guess who was soaked in beer and various other drinks by like 10:30? Nope, not Trevor this time. Me.

Things get a little fuzzy here, but snippets of the night include a wasted dude trying to get us to go to the Rose and Crown, Crystal's pizza that kinda made me want to throw up, What's Up's basement, more gin, a minivan, a soggy cheque, and Ali G before bed.


What happens when you mix margaritas, pink girly wine, JD, cabernet, and about a billion gin and sodas? I don't really know, but it doesn't feel very nice the next morning (thanks to dim sum and gatorade, I pulled through).

~sarah p.

Why Jay-Z should marry me :

Reason # 507- I like his glasses.
Supposed new Kingdom Come album cover? Pretty alright.

~sarah p.

p.s. FluoKids has been throwing out some pretty impressive mixes lately. Yesyesya'lllllll.

Question:

How many Coreys does it take to screw in a lightbulb?Answer: It doesn't matter.
Please don't let this be happening for-real. I've had enough Coreys for one lifetime.

~sarah p.

p.s.
Dear sweatpantserection.com,

I don't care who you are or what you do.... Thanks for having the best website name ever.

After two years...

... I figured it was time to make a few minor format changes. Done and done.
Let me know if it's too hard to read or anything, okay?

~sarah p.

Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.

The year was 1999. When I wasn't busy rocking the shit out The Miseducation of Lauren Hill, or being a young ruffian fresh outta high school, I was watching Office Space.
"What are you doing tonight, Sarah?" "Watching Office Space, duh."

It made me laugh, plain and simple. Although I couldn't relate at the time, it was really entertaining to see Mike Judge poke fun at all of the foibles of office life. It wasn't until I grew up (a little) and got an office job that I realized that Office Space, although still funny, was honestly more fact than fiction.

I'll never forget the first day I got a call from head office, scolding me for faxing pages in an improper order (sorry, guys). I sat back in my chair when the phonecall was done, and had an epiphany. Suddenly I wanted to go all Michael Bolton on my fax machine (and my printer, and my computer, and my copier, and my 500 phone-lines). I wanted to slack as much a humanly possible. Want me to come in this Saturday? I'm just not gonna answer my phone (thank you, caller ID).

Is this adulthood? Perhaps.

~sarah p.

p.s. Have you ever had a hot dog from Orange Julius? So good, I almost couldn't taste all of the pig ass.

Halloween (for real this time).

I wasn't going to go out. No, no, no. Absolutely not.
However, at 7:30, Allison brought over some 80's makeup, and I really couldn't help myself. Considering my regular wardrobe, it took me four seconds to throw together some sort of classy 80's prostitute/ mobster's wife combo costume. Done and done, I was looking like too much fun to stay in.

So, we get to the Drum, and Allison's all serious (like she's planning something, perhaps a kidnapping).

We didn't figure it out until later, but she totally kidnapped a wasted weed-fairy and was making her stay in the bathroom all night. Nice going, Allison.
(seriously, weed-fairy at Dub... Cliche much?)

I wanted to be worried about the weed fairy, I totally did, but Crystal and I were too busy going "Ehhhh.... Don't worry 'bout it".

Then, Allison fell asleep when I was talking to her, and I got totally mad.

I guess we made up at some point during the night. I guess.

See? You guys know these shoes, I always wear these shoes. Thanks to Allison's mom for the legwarmers (my pair isn't half as nice).

The night at the Drum was winding down, but it was a little too early to throw in the towel juuuust yet. Allison and I got in the car and went on a pumpkin-stealing spree.

Some houses, such as this one, had like fifteen pumpkins, so it was totally easy.
If you leave a pumpkin out on a doorstep for 8 hours in October, it will freeze. If you jam yourself into a car with a bunch of frozen pumpkins, you will freeze too.

So many pumpkins.

It really did seem like a good idea at the time.

We dropped off the pumpkins on Memorial Drive, and called it a night. I actually felt pretty okay this morning, and I think it was due to the massive amount of candy I ate before bed. New hangover cure? Maybe.

Hope it was good for you guys.

~sarah p.