Obligatory?

Has the "end of the year" post become an obligation? Is it my duty as a blogger to write something to sum up the last year? If so, does that really mean I give a shit?
Oh well. I'll do one anyway.

2009: a year in points

- I worried, a lot. I was also sick, a lot. I'm positive that those two things had NOTHING to do with each other.

- I started working at a new library and quit the old one (despite popular opinion that I would be there forever).

- I made it past the quarter of a century mark without too much trouble. I did not have a nervous breakdown, cry or any other "you're 25 now" cliches. In fact, I think I cared about it less than anyone.

- I completed my second short film, this time - Zombies. It was awesome and I am still grateful to everyone who helped out.

- I made some new and seriously awesome friends and walked away from some seriously not-awesome friends.

- I ended up in the hospital, which I wouldn't recommend for fun.

- I got myself a new puppy. Her name is Frankie, BTW.

- I went to Boston to hang out with two of the awesomest people I'm lucky enough to know.

All in all it was a year I probably wouldn't willingly chose to live over again, but it had its good points. Thanks to everyone who was there to make the good stuff awesome and the shittiness stuff I could live through.
See you all next year.

Always,

-Gwenhwyfar

Remember, Remember...

Remember, remember the Fifth of November, The Gunpowder Treason and Plot, I know of no reason Why the Gunpowder Treason Should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent To blow up the King and Parli'ment. Three-score barrels of powder below To prove old England's overthrow; By God's providence he was catch'd (or by God's mercy*) With a dark lantern and burning match. Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring. (Holla*) Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King! And what should we do with him? Burn him!

What Robin Is In Store For (And Also Manly Man)

Why yes, I do intend to just keep stealing posts from Robin.

- Realizing I really do curse that much and it gets more creative the more annoyed I am.

- Listening to me try to convince you to move to Canada as much and as often as humanly possible.

- Learning that I am the most indecisive person on the planet. Just make the decision for me, woman!

- Hearing me say "that's dirty" on a fairly regular basis.

- Having me ask a lot of stupid questions.

- My burping

and much, much more!
Excited yet?

Perfect...

I don't know how it works in other countries (I'm sure 5 minutes on Wikipedia would clear up that problem) but in Canada at least, you're not actually required to have a birth certificate. I mean, they have you on record somewhere, but to have a physical copy for yourself is in no way required. So my parents, being my parents, decided "why bother?" and I went about 20 years blissfully unaware that I didn't actually have one. Until it came up that I needed it for some application or something.
I got one, no problem. Put it in my wallet and kind of forgot about it unless it was needed to prove to someone that I don't actually have a middle name (why would I lie about that?). Gradually I stopped carrying my wallet but left a few things in there that I figured I didn't need to carry around all the time, you know, like my birth certificate.
Fast forward to two days ago. I printed off the passport application forms so the US will know I'm not a terrorist plotting to bring them down from within (suckers) and behold! I need my birth certificate so Canada, who is apparently forgetful and not very observant, will know that I am me and that I was born and raised in this wonderful land of hockey and beer.
My birth certificate, you'll remember, is in my wallet. My wallet is always on the table next to the TV by the coat rack. So imagine my surprise to find that now that I actually need the fucking thing, it's gone.
Gone where?
I have no idea. I have torn my house apart, twice. It's no where to be found.
What. The. Fuck.
Luckily, after talking to a surprisingly helpful and chipper woman from Stats Can. or where ever the fuck she was from, it turns out for a few bucks more I can get a replacement same day.
I'm blaming this all on you, America, for making me get a passport to begin with. Don't think we won't be having a chat about this when I get there.

In Person?

Some in-person things you should know about me in case you ever meet me.

- As much as I'm not really a "touchy" person, I hug my friends all the time. It's just how we say hello and good-bye and whatever else needs to be said with hugs.

- I talk a lot. I know I do. I talk more and faster when I'm nervous or excited. Be afraid, be very afraid.

- I am prone to giggle fits, it's some kind of genetic flaw. This gets worse when I'm nervous or excited. (Seriously, all the women in my family have this problem.) This means that something stupid will set me off laughing and I can't stop. It's weird. I know.

- Yes, I am this sarcastic all the time.

- I often make an ass of myself and I stick my foot in my mouth so often it would be easier to say that occasionally I take my foot out of my mouth.

If you're wondering why I'm telling you all this, you obviously need to pay more attention to Robin's blog because I really did just rip off her post. Also, I'm going to Boston to visit Robin and Manly Man! Yay! And we're going to see the new Kevin movie! More YAY!
This, my friends, is going to be epic.

Here I Am

I know, you were all worried about me. Right? Right?
Yeah, I thought so.
Well I'm back. I'm not dead. I mean, I'm not quite what you'd call "alive" but then, I never really was. So you know, back to sub-normal. And no, I haven't contracted some rare and exotic new disease they will name after me once I keel over, once and for all sealing my fate as being synonymous with a slow and painful death (which would be eight shades of fuckin' awesome, by the way).
I have however acquired a new addiction. By which I mean I bought a new addiction. It came in the form of a PS3. There was much giddiness and giggling. By which I mean I managed to not kill anyone in EB Games including the fucking skater prick, asshole, douche bag, fucktard who decided that the hundred or so other people crammed in to the approximately thirty square feet of store space were simply not as important as he is and tried to jump in front of me in line WHILE THE SALES GUY WAS HELPING ME. But the happiness (or what I would assume from other peoples descriptions of happiness, that emotion was) of getting my hands on a backwards compatible PS3 AND Little Big Planet (finally!) kept me from dismembering him slowly before a cheering crowd of onlookers who had all become so bitter and jaded by the post-christmas rush to consume as much useless shit because it's on sale** and were tired of self-centered wannabe oppressed minorities (ie. rich white kids with no real brains or purpose for being) acting like they own the whole fucking planet.
I brought my new bundle of joy home and have spent endless hours since sitting on my couch and playing. I've been bouncing between LBP, Tomb Raider: Underworld and God of War II (which I might actually like as much or more than the original). I actually played them so much I was even dreaming the game play in the scant few hours I slept between playing.
Little Big Planet, by the way, is wonderful. I keep trying to come up with an adequate description of the game for people and I'm at a loss for words. It's not really all that hard, but it's fun. I don't know how to make that sound better, but it is. Much. I can't remember the last time I got a new game and I really had fun. I mean, I always enjoy a new game but to just have fun in the most child-like sense of the word. Just to enjoy it for the sake of enjoying it. I'm also enthralled by the details of the game's overall look. It's just so damned... pretty. And unlike a lot of games, it's something I can see myself playing over and over again.
Underworld is also good, but a little buggy which is disappointing. I haven't had any major fuck-ups yet and believe me, you will hear about it if I do. Despite the bugginess it's been lots of fun to play. Overall the look of the game is amazing. Everything is beautiful and who doesn't love watching Lara Croft jump around exotic locals wearing almost nothing? Bouncy, bouncy, right? She even gets all glisteny after she goes for a swim. I can't imagine how these games ever got popular...
Anyway, I'll try and get some pictures of other ill gotten booty or ill booten gotty I got from people I know soon as some of it is rather awesome and other stuff just defies any clear explanation.


**The only reason I went out was because EB informed me they only just had the one backwards compatible PS3 and they could only hold it until the end of the day and I'll be damned if I was going to let it slip through my fingers and in to the hands of some grubby fucknut who just happened to wander in to the store. Crowds be damned, I wanted my fucking Playstation!

Happy Boxing Day

Try not to get trampled and for the love of Groucho, please folks, a 50% off sale is no reason to start a fist fight in the middle of Best Buy. Trust me.
For all of you weirdos who have no idea what I'm talking about - Boxing Day has more or less become our answer to Black Friday. Only it's after Christmas. Every idiot and their screaming brats load in to the car and head down to whatever store is having the best sales and proceeds to forget any manners they may have had before they walked through the front door. Then they all fight for the honour of spending money on crap they don't really need. All the while the unfortunate staff of any store open on boxing day spends their shift trying not to kill each and every person in the store and to hang on to the last shred of sanity left to them. Golly-gee, doesn't that sound like fun?
Personally, I'd rather sleep in.

You Know What Today Is?

No, it's not Rex Manning Day.
IT'S DARK KNIGHT DAY! Yay!
So of course I went out and braved the ice and snow and cold and shitty drivers and Best Buy shoppers to get my grubby hands on my very own copy. Along with God of War and Motown Classics Gold. (Seriously, what is it with me and Best Buy? I never seem to be able to get out of that place without at lest three items. I can't remember the last time I went there and spent less than $30. It's like some kind of crazy money stealing vortex of entertainment. *sigh*)
Now I'm home again and I plan to celebrate this wonderful holiday (it is a holiday, right?) by sitting on my couch in my jim-jams and watching me some delicious Batman action. Feel free to join me, popcorn and snacks are welcome.

Happy Mom's Day

For anyone interested, that would be me, my mom, my grandma and my great-grandma. (And yes, I was fucking adorable.)

I Finally Found it!

A "holiday" I hate more than Christmas. I hate this stupid fucking bullshit day. More than you will ever know.

New Toy

After much bitching and complaining about my very old, very shit, very thrashed camera my parents got me a new one for Xmas. And my, is it ever spanky. I love it. A lot. Especially because after my parents gave it to me my mom realized that it's way better than hers and this is annoying the shit out of her. (Don't you all wish you could have wonderful children like me?)
Anyway, I should mention that I am not a photographer in even the broadest sense of the word. I don't know how I manage to do it, but I fuck up 99.9% of every picture I take. But I still do like having a camera because sometimes you just need to snap a picture of something. This camera makes me especially happy because it has a panoramic setting, which is something I love and it's something I know I can do reasonably well. (By that of course I mean the pictures don't look like they were taken by a drunken 5 year old.)
So here are a few pictures I took the night I got it.

Box Set Luck

Nearly every xmas for the last ten years I have had at least one box set on my list. And I normally get one from my parents or my brother. But for some reason Gwenhwyfar + xmas + box set = disaster. I don't get it. I buy box sets for myself throughout the year and never have a problem but come xmas, there is always something wrong. Most notably was last year.
My parents relented and bought me a Johnny Cash box set (they hate Johnny, the freaks). I, being the childish present opener I am, opened it right up. (Don't ask why I do that, I don't know. I just have to see the whole thing.) And inside... nothing. I really thought they were shitting me. No disks, no booklet, nothing. In fact the spots for the CDs were warped so they wouldn't have held any CDs even if they had been in there. (By the way, you try taking a box set back on boxing day and try to convince the guy at the returns counter that there were no disks in there.)
This year my bother bought me the entire series of The Young Ones and I was ecstatic. (if you haven't seen this show, you should. Two words - Rik Mayall.) Once again I cracked it open to take a look. And then I noticed something. Three disks. Disk two, disk two and disk three.
Crap.
I even tried the disks to see if it was a misprint or if they were fucking with me. No. Disk two, disk two and disk three.
Crap.
*Sigh* So we're going to take it back and exchange it.
Maybe I'll see if they can do something about my box set curse while I'm there.

In Case You Forgot

Though I'm sure you didn't. Right?



Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent
To blow up King and Parliament.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

I Still Don't Know What "Nog" Is

I hate eggnog. I don't just dislike it, I hate it. My hate for eggnog burns with the heat of a thousand suns. And despite this, every year starting around this time until well after New Years I am hounded by every eggnog loving freak on the planet to just have a glass. Like somehow they think I've never tried it, I've never tried the right kind, I was mistaken about it's taste, that this one glass of eggnog will change my opinion of eggnog forever.
Believe me, it won't. It will only further cement the idea that "nog" is old english for "vomit".
Today G tried to talk me in to trying his own concoction of evil - eggnog and coke. Mixed. Together. In a glass. And one is meant to drink said mix. I declined, numerous times. Some of my other relatives were not so bright, however, and actually tried it.
The best response of them all came from Jay who said "I don't know what that tastes like but it's not something that tastes good."

Avast Ye Scurvy Dogs!

It be one o' the best day o' the year today! And all ye bilge-sucking poxy bastards aught to know what that means! T'is Talk Like A Pirate Day!
For any of ye landlubbers who don't wish to walk the plank, I'd be learnin' these. And for any addlepate who doesn't know what I'm on about, I'd be readin' this before we keelhaul ye.

At Least Joe Camel Was Subtle

So I'm at my Aunt's house finishing off one of my Christmas presents. She has a kiln and was kind enough to fire stuff for me and let me use her paints. I'm kinda thinking that she may be regretting that.
While I was painting Spider-man I happened to glance over at the shelf against the wall (she does ceramics so her basement is full of the stuff) and this is what I see:



The first thing that runs through my head is "holy shit! Those reindeer have testicles for heads!". That is also, unfortunately, the first thing to come out of my mouth.
My Aunt tells me I'm sick and that no one has ever said that before, so I show them to G. He agrees with me and points out that not only do they have sack heads, the sack heads appear to be wrinkled. He then names them the Sackalope and starts drawing them.
We laughed for like 20 minutes and my Aunt still thinks I'm a sicko, but I ask you - Are those not the most testicle like heads you've ever seen?

Finally, A Holiday That Wasn't Made Up Just To Sell Greeting Cards!

It's International Spaz day today.
In the words of my cousin:
I don't care if you lick windows, interfere with farm animals or
occasionally shit yourself. You hang in there sunshine, you're fucking
special

Turkeys Take Cover!

So it's Thanksgiving again. I did the whole family thing and ate myself stupid. I also managed to muster up enough interest to make not only a chocolate-mascarpone cheese cake, but also a chocolate pretzel basket of mushroom cookies (no actual mushrooms were injured during the making of these cookies). All in all it wasn't a total bust.
This weekend could have been better, what with the near poisoning, the rain, the lack of stones tickets, and my inability to complete 90% of the tasks I should have been working on. Oh well, I got some sleep at least. Not a lot, but some.
In honour of today here are some things I'm thankful for.

- Cheese cake
- Chocolate
- My cats, most of the time
- Having a house to live in
- My friends, most of the time
- Having access to a car
- My family, most of the time

Halloween Confusion

I may be the only one, but I find this package a little confusing.
For years I've wondered what the hell rabbits had to do with Easter eggs, especially when Cadbury came out with commercials including a clucking rabbit that laid eggs.
Do they really want me to believe that rabbits lay chocolate, cream filled eggs? And that they cluck? Where the hell did this rabbit/egg association come from in the first place?
Now they've added a whole new dimension to this rabbit/egg nonsense. They've moved the whole thing to Halloween. What the fuck?
This is where I put my foot down. Hershey's has gone too far.
What the fuck do eggs and rabbits have to do with Halloween? And not just any eggs and rabbits, but apparently rotten eggs and vampire rabbits.
I mean, sure, you can egg peoples houses on Halloween, but is this
something they're trying to encourage? And do they now want me to believe that not only do rabbits lay chocolate, cream filled eggs, but that vampire rabbits lay candy coated chocolate eggs? And I mean Vampire Rabbits??!! Seriously?
Do they drink the blood of the living so they may continue in their unholy existence and serve as spokes-rabbits for their unborn chocolaty offspring? And why would they want you to consume said chocolaty unborn offspring?
Jesus...

It Be Talk Like A Pirate Day

Sept. 19 be international talk like a pirate day, yeh scurvy dogs. So have a bit o' grog, swab the deck and walk the plank.