As if The Social Network hadn’t done enough damage as far as poking my wounded desire to be a student forever, last night’s reunion dinner with my Ryerson entourage threw me right over the edge. I was never one of those who couldn’t wait to get out of school. I never wanted to graduate, it’s just unfortunate that I also wasn’t the type to ‘take my time’ either because I was too anal for that sort of stuff, so graduation inevitably came for me and dropped me off in the real world. But my heart throbs at the thought of being a student encased by the walls of my university, protected from the big bad world, living and learning inside a bomb shelter, while making lifelong friends. The Social Network’s depiction of Harvard University is so stimulating that I like to imagine myself right there with them like a true boujie scholar. I would’ve loved to have a friend like Mark Zuckerberg who shared my excitement with HTML and blogs and websites back in 2000-2005 when nobody else understood or cared about it and when you were a nerd for taking interest in strange computer things and when ‘nerd’ was fatal to your reputation in high school. Who knew that being a nerd would become the coolest thing on earth in 2010? Now we have a whole bunch of self-proclaimed nerds! This paragraph has gone off on a tangent, but that’s okay. Back to my point – school will always have a place in my heart and we will be reunited.

This photo is another one from Nuit Blanche, taken at the Gladstone Hotel on Queen Street. This woman was symbolically ‘shredding knowledge’ by ripping pages from books and using a paper shredder to bestow death upon information that is no longer useful. That’s my take anyway.

Another one from Nuit Blanche. This is Hair Matters by the Toronto School of Art at Coupe Bizarre on Queen Street.

I really, really, really want to blog more about Nuit Blanche but I have to get ready for a reunion dinner with my favourite graduates from Ryerson University, :). Tonight’s another night out in Toronto. I am so in lust with Toronto. Don’t underestimate our city. We have a fabulous one.

More Nuit Blanche tomorrow.

It’s 2:00 am, I’m exhausted, and it’s technically October 3rd, but I am forcing myself to post for October 2nd. Nuit Blanche was fabulous and I am in lust with Toronto. This photo was taken in the lipstick bathroom in the Gladstone Hotel on Queen Street. You go in there to write notes on the mirrors with red lipstick. I can’t stop thinking about crawling under my blanket and sleeping, so good night.

I wouldn’t have to do this. But that’s not the case, SO: Can you do my friend and I a huge favour? We are trying to win a Walmart shopping spree and really need your votes to get there! All you have to do is click here, then click the vote button, then check your email account for a confirmation email to confirm your vote. This confirmation email usually ends up in your junk mailbox, so be sure to check there! That’s it! Easy as pie. Thank you so, so, so much.

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I don’t dread Mondays anymore because Fridays come so quickly nowadays with time flying off the hook and everything. And I don’t look forward to Fridays anymore because Mondays come just as quickly.

Wow, the second half is so depressing. I’m just joking though. The first half is true, the second half isn’t. Nothing could make me not love Fridays. If the second half becomes true for anyone, then I think it’s safe to say that you’ve lost all reason to live.

Spending the night at the theatres because there are so many good movies out. It’s an emotional dilemma between The Social Network, The Town, and Let Me In (because God knows how much I love horror movies). All three have superb ratings on Rotten Tomatoes at 97%, 95%, and 85%, respectively. We’ll see. Make it a good Friday night, everyone, and Happy October.

Ever wonder what it would be like to have people stare and laugh at you day in and day out for something you can’t help? They’re not staring at you because there’s something nice to look at, they’re staring at you because you have a disorder that you were born with. They’re not laughing at you because you’re funny, they’re laughing at you because you’re Narcoleptic and you fall asleep at random and this is supposed to be hilarious.

I ride the Mississauga Transit bus home from work four times a week and there is the same narcoleptic man there every single time. He’s probably in his 30s and is always dressed sloppy business casual. He takes a seat and immediately gets a fleeting urge to sleep. He loses all motor control, drops dead, and involuntarily falls asleep. The “funny part” is that when he falls asleep, he flings his head all the way back, drops his jaw all the way down, spreads his legs from side to side, snores like thunder, and sleeps like that for three or four minutes, and then he wakes back up. This repeats itself over and over. And as if these involuntary sleeps aren’t a big enough nightmare as is – an even bigger one awaits. Each time he wakes up from every single one of these helpless episodes, the first thing he sees are full grown men and women laughing, taking photos, or staring with appalled faces – behaviour that you’d expect from twelve year olds who don’t know any better.

I can’t even begin to understand how he feels. I am one of maybe five people in the entire bus that keep a straight face in an effort to prove a point to the idiots who seem to think that this illness is a bus ride comedy. People start looking my way to guide me to the narcoleptic man with their eyes to get me in the loop with what they’re laughing about because they’re thrown off by my disinterest. Thank you for the effort but I know exactly what’s so funny and I just don’t think it’s funny at all, and neither should you if you were any smarter. It’s getting harder and harder to bite my tongue with each ride. Gah.

Photo below was taken in Amsterdam. If you look closely, the photos on the display window are of naked women. I think they’re postcards. I didn’t realize this until I was editing the photo. Amsterdam scares me but the city makes good photos, so I can’t complain.

Would you please look at the four photo options below and vote for your favourite? I have to decide which to submit for Canon’s internal photo contest by the end of the night. The theme is SHAPES. If I win, we’re talking about a new camera here. That’s a big deal, so what’s the verdict?

Option A is here, Option B is here, Option C is here and Option D is the latest addition (and is today’s Photo A Day) – idea credit to my boyfriend, arts & crafts credit to my boyfriend also.

I’ve already broadcast(ed?)* this royal embarrassment on Facebook and Twitter this morning. But in case you missed it, I committed a giant office faux pas today by replying-to-all in a message that was meant to be read by only one recipient. Instead, it was sent to and read by a whole slew of other people in the company (as in, over fifty people). I will say no more.

On a better note, mistakes are the reason why learning is fun. Mistakes have to be made and embraced. BUT – once it’s done, it’s done, and you have to get over it, learn from it, and never do it again. Here is my theory: if you can master the art of getting over things quickly, life is bound to be easier. Get. Over. It. Fast. and move the hell on. It took me two hours to get over my reply-to-all accident, which is two hours too long. Get good at getting over and moving on. It’s a neat little trick.

But I also can’t disqualify the role of my personal calm-downer and comforter (my boyfriend). I freak out easily and without him and his calm aura, I’m convinced that I would’ve already died from a heart attack ten thousand different times from ten thousand different occasions. This is one of fifty million reasons why I love him.

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*broadcast(ed?)
There is this whole confusion in the English vocabulary with the word “broadcasted” and whether or not it is the proper past tense for “broadcast”. Originally, the past tense of “broadcast” was simply “broadcast”, but then “broadcasted” is now increasingly becoming an accepted form of past tense for “broadcast”. Well, I have no idea which to use. With this entry’s opening sentence, “broadcasted” sounds right, but I believe is technically wrong, so I’ve just put the “ed” in brackets with a question mark and that should put a band-aid on that.

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I’m letting go and saying goodbye to summer because I officially had to turn on the car seat warmer this past weekend. The cold is coming.

The first time I decided that I wanted shutters and window boxes of flowers for my dream house was in 2005, when I first fell in love with the houses of the SWISS. Switzerland is breathtaking – there is not a single word that can adequately describe the beauty and perfection of this country. It needs its own special adjective. Eighty percent of the houses and little shops in Switzerland look just like this, but each with their own unique colours, design, and style. Who needs the Home Show when you have countries like Switzerland? Go there for inspiration. I snapped a photo of almost every house I passed by, all so that I have albums of inspiration when it’s time for me to decorate my own home (at least the exterior of my home). I can’t even imagine what these houses look like inside. Oh la la, Switzerland!

This afternoon, I was delighted to be at my first tea party ever, barely knowing what it was. But let’s just say that I’ve become an overnight tea party fan. Ladies, tea parties are a good time and I’d insist that you round up your best girls and make it happen. Tea and sugar have taken over my insides and I’m pretty sure that I can sleep into a sugar coma tonight. A friend of mine is a phenomenal, PHENOMENAL baker and has opened up her cozy condo in Toronto for this enthralling tea party with myself and four other beautiful souls. It was six hours of quality catch-up time while sipping on delicious Toasty Almond & Cherry Rose tea and munching on fatally tasty, mouthwatering, and super pretty cookies, mini sandwiches, and scones (so pretty that it hurts to eat them), all with the sunlight pouring in from the glass windows and perfectly onto the dining table where we sat.

This woman not only bakes delicious pastries but she can make it all look flawless and simply spectacular. So spectacular that you don’t even want to touch them no matter how hungry you are because it’s just so perfect. I’m 100% about aesthetics and how things look. Everything else is secondary. If you win my eyes, you’ve won my heart. I love all forms of art and this is one that was brought to light when I first laid eyes on her baked goods that looked like they came right out of an elite baking magazine. It’s not just in the taste but in the presentation of the goods and how they have to be arranged in a way that screams beauty, much like flower arrangements. Everyone can bake but not everyone can bake like awesome. What great talent!

that my iphone works out in a few days. I’m so close yet so far. We ran into problems unlocking it. Keeping my fingers crossed.

I went to the Dutch Mill Country Market today, thinking I would find an old school windmill in a farm to take photos of (I have raging love for windmills and lighthouses). There was an old school windmill indeed, but it was a fake display by the front door – my crappy discovery of the day. The market though, was shelves after shelves of divine little trinkets. I’ll be back there for home decor for my dream house. And then there were goats, sheep, ponies, and ducks hanging out in the outskirts. I learned about this market while driving home from a road trip and catching a sign that read “Dutch Country Market” with a picture of a windmill right beside it. I was curious and so I went.