She's, like, winded

I'm truly amazed I was able to work a full day without caffeine yesterday. YES! I can live without caffeine, although I will probably be relying on it for the next couple of weeks, what with assignments and exams and stuff. Instead of my usual latte or mocha, I decided to try a fruit smoothie from Freshly Squeezed. Someone once told me that they can be refreshing, and to me, that sounds like it could be a natural and better solution to caffeine. It didn't give me the shakes like a Second Cup, but it did keep me moving yesterday. And it even kept me awake for Poker last night, in which I tied for first with Alex. We just split the pot because my fruit high was coming down at about 1:30 am. Ah well, it was a productive day: I handled the office on my own, met with clients, did a closing and I made money for bus fare for the week. Now, if only I could get those 4 Philosophy papers done for the week. Not fucking likely.

I cannot wait for my two weeks off from work in a week. Sure, I'll be using most all of that time for studying and working on assignments, but it will be nice to just be a student again. And then after that... a worker. For the rest of my life... I can't believe my brothers were right. I used to always bitch and complain about school and how I yearned for the freedom of books and the ability to make money and have fun. They said I'd miss school. School hasn't even ended but I can already feel that I will dread not having the freedom that being a student gave me: more sleep (I'm not one of those 24-hour studiers. More like the 24 hours-before-the-exam type), more time to do personal things (like shop after class, take long-ass lunches), and yes, even the people. That is, people my age.

When you enter the real world, you are not thrown into a pool of people you can relate to or those who have similar interests. You are thrown into a pool of people who are unfamiliar to you, people you once looked at differently, people who have children and mortgages. Sometimes, I don't even feel like an adult. I feel like a child in an office, just trying to be on my best behaviour and doing what I'm expected to do. I can't even imagine people working under me, which I'm to expect when I graduate and that honestly scares the crap out of me. So many things to worry about like whether you're directions are right, or whether they like you or whether they'll resent you so much that they'll show up at the office one day with a shotgun...

I did ask for this, though, huh? How does that saying go? 'Be careful what you wish for'? All those childhood years dreaming, wishing I was an adult. I look at kids now and their P.A. Days and yearn for the days when I'd stay home alone and just watch soaps and Fresh Prince all the live long day. How ironic is it that now I have to work my butt off to get rich enough to be able to do that in my old age?

Idol Minds, Idle Hearts

I laugh a little whenever I think back to my 'idol days'. I think most girls go through this phase: whether it be a pop star, rock star, movie star, gaseous star, we all had that one star we seriously fantasized touching/meeting/marrying/fucking. Looking back on it now, I realize how foolish I was to have spent all that allowance money on posters, albums, books, memorabilia, tickets... you name it. Well, I guess 'waste' is not an appropriate term. That was my childhood and I don't regret my childhood, although I do feel stupid for possibly ruining my parent's walls from wallpapering my bedroom with Hanson posters. In any case, I'm very grateful I had a childhood, because alot of people lose it pretty damn early or don't get one at all. And in some cases... they don't seem to grow up.

I'm amazed that someone older than me is able to still feel those teenage delusional idol feelings. I guess this is what they call a mental illness and I know that it is not uncommon. And it seems to run in the family. I recall my dad always telling me to never 'worship anybody' and mocking me for my absurdities. This chick's dad... man, as loony as the girl herself. I have no words although I guess you do have to sympathize with him because his heart was in the right place, but his head was not. So glad I grew up (I knew I had to let go when Taylor got married and had babies).

~~~

Today I had my Honour Roll Pin ceremony, quite possibly my last since I don't feel as I'm doing too hot this semester. Ah well, best while I can enjoy it. Enjoy the great free food, that is! If there's anything I can say about my school, it would be that they cater awesome food. That's one comfort I have as to where my tuition dollars are going to.

Oh yes, and a special shoutout goes out to my good friend and classmate, Ishara. Her interview with The Toronto Star also happened to come out today.

Liar, liar, pants on KAFIYAH!

I really hate it when 'ethnic fashion' become trendy. They become overdone and a dozen companies put out abberations and butcher the classics. Of the such, kimonos, saris and, of course, mandarin dresses. I admit I have half a dozen 'Mandarin-inspired' clothing, but c'mon, I'm Chinese!

The latest ethnic trend to hit the streets is actually quite new. That is, the kafiyah kahfiyah keffiyeh scarves. It's those long, black and white checkered scarves often worn around the necks of women (and some fashionably gay men) with a fitted t-shirt, denim mini and (ugh!) black leggings. OR on the heads and necks of gun-toting young Israeli boys on CNN.

^Cool

^Not cool

Perhaps this is a relatively new trend because of all that jazz going on with Israel and Palestine. I started to notice this trend about a year ago. It seems pretty popular with the 'Scenester' crowd and the trend is growing world-wide. Now, I haven't exactly confirmed this with urbandictionary.com, but my definition of a Scenester is one of those people (most likely from New York City) who cruise after-hour clubs (doesn't even have to be on the weekend. They probably don't have steady jobs), wear grungy clothes and have disturbingly coloured hair and/or makeup. Most, if not all, smoke and there's most likely alot of drugs involved (which probably explains the lack of care for appearance and that starved look). One such example I can point to is that kid (what is she, like 14?), if-she-says-she-doesn't-do-coke-her-pants-are-on-fire Cory Kennedy.

Anyway, this new 'keffiyah revolution' comes to light with that never-ending war in the middle East, made popular by none other than that hipster, Yasser Arafat. The scarf has certain meaning, one that I won't get in to it too much since I don't really know the details and history but it's Googable. This reminds me of all those other trends that people wear without knowing what they fuck they're doing. Plastic bracelets (you wish you played that Sex Game when you were 12), yellow rubber Armstrong bracelets ("Who's Lance Armstrong?") and um, crosses (LOL, no really. If you wear them, why do you do what you do?).

My fashion comrades, from all points of the world, agree that there is that CONTROVERSY tag attached to this so-called trend. But it is still adored. Although I think we are just largely influenced by the runway...

Yeah, we're slaves to fashion [models]. So sue us.

Personally, I like this scarf look. I don't know why. Is it because it comes with a story? Or because I like black and white tattered scarves heavily draped around my neck? I'm not sure. I've been contemplating whether or not to purchase one (they're rampant at flea markets and such) but there is that 'controversy issue' (and everyone knows I love a controversy) and the fact that I don't want people thinking I'm supporting some sort of political movement (that is, politicians as fashionistas). Oh, and most importantly, I don't want to look like a moron who clearly doesn't know what she's doing with this scarf.

I suppose it takes a knowledgeable person to wear one in confidence and to actually do more reading on this, I would need some time. Or perhaps it takes a sensible person to know that this is perhaps a trend that shouldn't be exploited and is best left with the professionals.

Rock the mind, rock the body

I like to consider myself a little bit 'artsy fartsy'. I can generally 'see' whenever someone is trying to evoke a difficult emotion or message. I may not agree with it, but I do see. If I had the time, I really wouldn't mind going to an art gallery and just stop to smell the roses, as they say.

In my Philosophy class, we've been looking at some pieces of artwork, which I'm grateful for since I don't have the time to really just stop to learn about them. The assignments we get are really interesting, mostly ones that make you stop to reflect on the finer things in life. Unfortunately because I've been so stressed and too busy to actually stop and think, I haven't really been enjoying writing the papers. Nor am I doing as well as I could be in that class. We're supposed to submit a portfolio 10 pieces of our writings from the semester. I've only done two. As you can tell, I'm well behind. So of course, I had to jump at the chance of doing one particular writing assignment that would count as two. The assignment was to 'attend an event, try something new and different' and then write about the "Phenomenology of Art".

This weekend was the Canadian Filmmakers Festival. It's kind of like the Toronto International Film Festival but without Hollywood. I'm not a great big fan of indie films, although I wish I was. I guess nowadays my patience for 'bad art' is just in decline. I mean, indie movies aren't all that bad. They just take a little getting used to. It's one of those things where you need to have the patience to get through the bad acting and the awkward cinematography. Damn Hollywood for ruining my ability to appreciate all that.

So last night I went with a couple of friends to take in one of the last movies showing during the festival. We decided to see Steel Toes since it was remotely related to the legal field. The movie stars the yummy Canadian actor, Andrew Walker (anybody watch Student Bodies? He was one of the the hot dumb jocks) and some Oscar-nominated actor, whose name I cannot recall. Walker plays a neo-Nazi who is on trial for murdering an East Asian immigrant in an alleged hate crime and ends up getting a public defender who happens to be a 'humanist, liberal Jew'. The movie was slow at first. Really slow. I dozed off a bit before I realized I better stay awake because it's for school. I hate it when the director puts in these useless 'mood' scenes: nothing is going on, the viewer just sees some nice scenery for a really long time, as if to depict the days going by. ZZzzzzz. I think because it was a 'thinking' movie, that's why the put in those long-ass scenes: for the dumbasses like me to take it all in and think before the next scene.

Before I saw the movie, I had overheard some people say that the movie was apparently powerful. I was so not convinced until the climax of the movie (which in most law movies, is the point where the accused goes to trial) and then I realized why people were calling it powerful. The theme of the movie centralizes on the relationship between the lawyer and his client a neo-Nazi and a Jew and how they somehow influence each other. Needless to say, it is not the happy-go-lucky ending that one might expect from a Hollywood movie.

Anyhoo, I better start writing the paper before I forget the name of the movie.

In the meantime, check out some pics from the weekend. Special thanks to Paul (someone get a hold of Jonny's?). I know they're on Facebook, but this is for the better people who don't have Facebook.

^Barbra and Paul R ^We rule the back seat. Word.

^Parrrtayyyyyyy

^:o Vicki! Take them out of the box first!

^I rock the party that rocks your body

^Looks like someone's rockin' Paul's body

^...and Paul M's. What is up with the faces, guys?

Go Getta

I can't stop yawning. I don't believe I've had at least 24 hours of sleep in the past 72 hours. I know I said I can't stop, won't stop, but I think I really need to slow down.

Crunch time is coming. Less than three weeks to the end of school, until I graduate. Ohhh shit. I've got so much shit to do, I don't even know where to start and so, I just don't start. Fuck fuck fuck.

Right now I'm sitting in the Toronto Public Library waiting for my friends/working on homework. I can't seem to concentrate because yawning takes a lot of energy out of me. The mocha I had earlier today is not working.

I look back on the past two days and I wonder where the hours have gone. On Friday, I worked 10.5 hours. It was a particularly busy day and I didn't even have time to eat lunch (until my boss forced a chicken Caesar salad on me). We had 4 real estate closings that day and I'm still amazed I was able to close them all, without a hitch. I'm so glad my boss finally appreciates what I do and we're currently in negotiations of my promotion and big, fat raise. I don't want to talk more about it for fear of jinxing it.

On Friday night, I went to Cantina Charlie's via SUV limo with thirteen other people. It was pretty damn sweet, I must say. I didn't bring my camera, as I soon realized that Vicki's friends are already paparazzos themselves. I hope to upload some of those pictures soon (Viiiiiicckkkkiiii!!!) because it was such a great night. Cantina Charlie's wasn't as bad as I was led to believe. It was pretty good and I soon realized I had been there before (back when it was called Oxygen). Oh, party memories, how I'm so fond of you. They had some promotion there and I got a pretty cool American Apparel t-shirt (one that actually fits! Not one of those "oh, we only have size L" things). Also, I may or may not be on TV shortly as they were filming a TV commercial and the camera was up in my face for a good portion of the night. I hope it's going to only be played on some obscure channel... particularly one my parents don't watch (preferably one I don't get). It's funny how I've always wanted to be on Electric Circus, but these days, not so much. After all, I've got a reputation to maintain (my co-workers don't need to know I'm a manizer).

Last night, I walked (yes, walked from Dixie and Eglinton to Kennedy and Eglinton) to Megan's house to chill. I guess you have to oblige to do that especially after your sister ran a 5k marathon and insists that the walk would be "nothing". Oh, my little legs are no comparison to my little, yet taller, sister's. I really don't know why I went (well, I guess to see friends) because I should've used that time to sleep---which is what I ultimately did during Pirates of the Carribean. LOL. We played Hoopla, an 'off-shoot' of Cranium, and soon realized that we do not make a good team (the game comprises of one team). It was a nice alternative to Poker. It was still fun though, especially when Kathy thought the Sahara Desert was in Egypt and made us guess the name of a desert in Egypt for like, 5 minutes. The Dunce cap goes off to Kathy. Hahaha.

I didn't want to walk home at 3 am so I took the $11.25 cab ride home and I have finally decided to get a car in the very near future. I really hate asking people for rides, even though I'd sooner drive anyone anywhere (within reason, but then again, I guess I do owe alot of people rides anyway). I guess I just don't want to seem like one of Those Girls who always have a chauffeur to rely on. Well I guess I am one of those girls, but it's not like I want to take advantage of it all the time. I've already got my 'car broker' on the job and she's on the lurk for my Acura RSX or something just as superfantastic in my price range. Huzzah!

Alright, I need to take a quick nap before my friends arrive. Adios.

Winning Women? But there can only be one...

I know it's a song for deodorant, but I'm still loving it. I don't think I've been drawn to a 'jingle' since Britney Spears did Pepsi years ago.. hahaha!

Gonna win it no limit, strong women we are.

Gotta win it no limit, strong women we are.

Gonna win it no limit, strong women we are.

Gotta win it no limit, strong women we are.

Chorus

Where them girls at. (Girls at).

That like to be in charge.

When the heat get too hot, they just keep turnin’ it up.

Never let ‘em cheat-sheet, they just sweat, gotta go hard.

Where those winning women thats really willin to take it off!

Where them girls at. (Girls at).

That like to be in charge.

When the heat gets too hot, just keep turnin’ it up.

Never let ‘em cheat-sheet, they just sweat, gotta go hard.

Where those winning women thats really willin to take it off!

Verse One

Uh-uh-uh-uh huh.

When you see both of us on catwalk representing our culture.

Uh-uh-uh-uh huh.

Well the time and day has changed, where the women wear the pants without changing the last name.

Uh-uh-uh-uh huh.

Where the word diva, diva, mean viva, viva, we run las vegas.

Uh-uh-uh-uh huh.

And then the stock exchange, bang, Than we got claim to the change.

All, all, all a girl want, wants.

All a girl need, needs.

Its just all those, simple things like to be cared for.

Just to have him, be there for.

All that matters, it’s those sweet things.

That’s all a girl really wants.

Chorus

Where them girls at. (Girls at).

That like to be in charge.

When the heat get too hot, they just keep turnin’ it up.

Never let ‘em cheat-sheet, they just sweat, gotta go hard.

Where those winning women thats really willin to take it off!

Where them girls at. (Girls at).

That like to be in charge.

When the heat gets too hot, just keep turnin’ it up.

Never let ‘em cheat-sheet, they just sweat, gotta go hard.

Where those winning women thats really willin to take it off!

Verse Two

Uh-uh-uh-uh huh.

We are too confident, me and her talk to Phil, never happen again.

Uh-uh-uh-uh huh.

We don’t wait, we get paid, for a trait holiday, we sip lemonade.

Uh-uh-uh-uh huh.

Instead of doing what he wants, we do what we want, buying homes in Geneva.

Uh-uh-uh-uh huh.

Like when the sound baby glance, rings, and that means more than things.

All, all, all a girl want, wants.

All a girl need, needs.

Its just of those, simple things like to be cared for.

Just to have him, be there for.

All that matters, it’s those sweet things.

That’s all a girl really wants.

Chorus x2

Where them girls at. (Girls at).

That like to be in charge.

When the heat get too hot, they just keep turnin’ it up.

Never let ‘em cheat-sheet, they just sweat, gotta go hard.

Where those winning women thats really willin to take it off!

Where them girls at. (Girls at).

That like to be in charge.

When the heat gets too hot, just keep turnin’ it up.

Never let ‘em cheat-sheet, they just sweat, gotta go hard.

Where those winning women thats really willin to take it off!

"Winning Women" ~ Rihanna and Nicole Scherzinger

It's funny how this song speaks of united women who are strong and independent but this song does not bode the truth in most (if not, all?) cases. We are quite the species. Girls are vicious, malicious and unfortunately, delicious which is why the male species, they cannot compete. Why do you think girl-bands don't last? We all want to be the lead singer. This is why women can't be in politics; it is not the men that suppress us, we just take things to a whole new personal level. And these are just a few examples. I brace myself for the day when men have totally become obsolete and then it's an all-female planet. OH GOD, 4 years of college all over again!

I suppose we do do it up right, though. We do life the right way, the competitive way, the 'every [wo]man for them selves' way. We keep our 'friends' close, and our frenemies closer. We don't care whose stilleto-ed toe we step on, as long as they've been stepped on. Oh, I'm so very tired and this race is just too much work. Why can't I just walk, not run?

Special shoutout goes out to Jeff's mom: HI, Mrs. Cutter! How are you?

Diesel for the Spring

Happy Spring, everyone. I wholeheartedly welcome double-digit temperatures and being able to wear running shoes for the first time in a long time. Yeeeee haw.

Yesterday I welcomed this new season with some new designer duds from the Diesel/Lacoste Warehouse Sample sale in Scarborough. All the way there, you say? Well, it was well worth the trip. Especially for Nam, and I'll explain why in a bit. I ended up going with Cuong, Nam and Alex; they are three of the most unlikely fashionista cohorts, but were not totally useless.

Of course, before we went, I didn't even mention to the guys that we would likely encounter line ups, scavenging, communal fitting rooms and crazed women fighting over jeans and shoes, as per my usual visits to these madhouses. What's the point in scaring them? We got there around 5 pm, and it wasn't as bad as I had feared. The line-up wasn't too bad (like a 25-minute wait as opposed to a 2-hour wait at a Puma sale) and for that late in the day (the sale opened at 10 am that morning), the selection was good. Well, almost. All the good women's Lacoste shoes were pretty much dismal and the size selection was not to my regard (oh, why didn't I go with Dev and Sarah S earlier in the day?). However, I still managed to land a pair of nice jeans and a coat and besides, I still have a pair of Lacostes from last year that are still sitting in the shoe box. Let's not be greedy, here.

I had to try and dissuade Alex from being a label whore (and a potential fashion victim) in his quest for any piece of clothing with a big, huge logo. Oh, why do people do this to themselves? To me, it's sort of like self-deprication. To others, I guess it's just worth the money to pay for the name if it gives you ....whatever it is you're looking for (while I'd rather pay the money for the quality). To my relief, everyone, but Cuong got something because at least it wasn't a total waste of a 45-minute-rush-hour-traffic-radio-singing trip to 'Scarlem'. It was especially rewarding for Nam because while Alex and I were about $250 bucks in the hole, let's just say Nam gained...$75 worth of goods, to be exact ($275 retail).

We left at about 7 pm and the line was ridiculous. Car-line-up-down-the-street ridiculous. Thank goodness we went there a bit earlier. And for those of you planning to go, good luck finding stuff because they apparently put out stuff for the first two days and the next two days is absolute shit (unless you wear an XL in everything and a size 42 in jeans).

Shopping is a workout so we got some Pho for dinner and then met up with some people for bowling. I can't believe I am able to do all this in the middle of the week and I'm going to miss just hanging out like this. I will cherish this for as long as I can (3 weeks) before I graduate and start working and living the rest of my working life yearning to go early to sample sales in the middle of the day. That's the life.

SCREEEEAAMMMMM!

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYessssssssssssss!!! Tokio Hotel finally has an English music video and thank god they used a better English version of 'Schrei'. They've remade their German video, and added new clips of themselves now. I wonder why they used the same video for the English version of this song. I guess they went by the old rule 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it'? Or perhaps, creativity and budget were low. Who cares. I still like it, it's just hilarious how Bill's voice is totally different from the original version.

The old video to compare:

I can't wait till they have concerts here. I so want to party with these dudes. Fuck shit fuck, I'm going to hell because those twins (the lead singer and the guitarist with the dreads) are fuckin' hot and they're like, 18. After all, one of my goals in life is to party with Tokio Hotel in a hotel in Tokyo.

Hell yes,

I'm going through my Euro-guys-are-fuckin-sexy phase. This is gonna be fun.

I need a White Rabbit, not BE the White Rabbit

Aw man. I overslept this morning by an hour, and ended up showing up at 9:00 am for my 8:00 class. It is now 9:24 and the professor just ended the class. Good grief.

It's just as well. It's my fault for not learning how to fully use my alarm clock --- or to remember to actually put the alarm clock on, in addition to setting the time. I have the option of just leaving school now and just go to work a little (a lot) early. Or, I can sit here for a little while longer, finish my latte and at least make myself feel like I didn't waste one, no, two tokens on this trip to school.

I wish I could go home or at least to someone's nearby home and just crawl into bed and sleep an extra hour or so. My legs are still sore from the weekend's par-taying. I've learned my lesson to actually stretch before I dance again. I'm getting old, the muscles won't work themselves out anymore.

I was home last night too exhausted to do anything. There is schoolwork abounds that need to be completed. I even have an assignment due this week and I don't even have the damn book. LOL. I suppose it wouldn't be a bad idea to go to work early and hopefully just finish off some of the piles of stuff I have to do...

So while I was just sitting around becoming sadder by the minute over the things I still need to do, I was also brought back to the thoughts I was trying to get away from before I left for my mini-vacation. I tried to let go of all the extra emotional baggage I seem to be carrying around as of late, but I couldn't really shake it off. I'm not really sure what to do. School is ending in about a month and just that stress alone is starting to accumulate because I don't even know where to begin to alleviate it. I NEED MORE TIME! AGGGGHHHH.

I sometimes remind myself of the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, running around, worried about the time, panicked about nothing.

OK, I'm going to head to work and just put my mind temporarily into paperwork and files. I'm getting a headache.

Ride West

Ahoy-hoy! I got back from Windsor early this evening. I'm really glad I decided to go because as I've mentioned before--I needed it. And what a nice change of pace to go on a road trip with girls than with boys (because boys do crazy stupid shit like getting on to an exit ramp between pylons!). Three hours there, three hours back. Jeff, I dunno how you do it.

It wasn't until Friday night and Sarah reminded me to bring a green top that I realized that... I don't wear green. At least, not in my clothes. I have green shoes, green purses... no green top. So I got one, thinking it would be for Saturday night. We left for Windsor on Saturday afternoon and I get into the car...and I didn't realize there was a dress code for this trip. Everyone was wearing green but yours truly. Fuck the what.

^Diane

^Sarah

^Vicki

^The Black Sheep

The road trip was long, and not very eventful (I like road trips, but I hate that there is nothing but farms and land between the destinations). My personal favourite thing on road trips are the pit stops. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but something about the fact that everyone in the place is in transit is like being in an airport: everyone is from a different background and going to different places. They are strangers you will never meet, but it's as if they are people you've encountered and you can scratch those people off the list of 6billion people in this world--and that's a lot of people. Kinda makes the world feel freakin' huge. Cuz it is. Also, one thing I like about pit stops: the novelties. T-shirts with ghey-ass slogans, over-priced candy, and the funny toiletries in the bathroom for those in transit.

^One-time use toothbrushes with self-contained toothpaste for just a dollar? What a steal!

We arrived at Windsor, a little bewildered, I would say. I guess we were a little amazed at the 'culture' that is Windsor. That's what you get when you pluck city girls into a place like Windsor. Nonetheless, we made do. We piled into Jeff's tiny rez to his equally tiny dorm room where we planned to stay for the night. 5 people in one room, you say? It was quite the fire hazard, but dammit, we did it.

We kinda chilled around for a bit before we decked out in our finest greens for some St. Patty's day pre-drinking. We around to a couple of floors where other students were getting in the spirit. It was kinda nice to sort of experience rez-life in that sense: the togetherness, the dirtiness, and the drunkeness.

^Let the drinking begin!

^Productive use of my weekend

^Haha this picture looks awesome because she looks like she knows what she's doing

^Goddam Facebook

^Nice purse, Jeff.

^Just for the record, this isn't Jeff's room. Jeff doesn't condone the colour pink.

^Ready for a par-tay

^"I said 'Go to bed in room 1012'" "Oooh, I thought you said go to bread."

^LOL Vicki think she looks like the chick on my book

^Me, after one drink. Drinking is not my champion sport.

We eventually took a [cheap] cab ride downtown to The Beach, a pub/club/pool hall. I really liked it there because it had something for everyone, especially those who have very different tastes in 'fun': Jeff, watching hockey games; me, dancing. In terms of guy-scoping, we were supposed to party with Jeff's hockey mates, but he lost his phone and couldn't reach them. That wasn't too bad, though because there were plenty of drunk guys at The Beach. I even met this not-too-shabby Irish guy, but he turned out to be a smoker ("But I only smoke when I drink" "Sorry, you're a smoker") who wasn't even wearing green. Pfft. Even I was wearing green.

^Outside The Beach

^I'm still dressing myself

^HAHA, we didn't even wait for Jeff to put his lime in

^Two for me!

^Jello shots!

^The people of Windsor, they have no fashion taste

^Vicki knew like, all the songs being played

^Me and Sarah dancing on speakers. We attracted quite the audience

^Guy dancing on table

^Me and Sarah dancing on the table. Sorry for blocking the hockey view, Jeff

^Take off that silly-ass hat

^Vicki taking a breathalyzer

^Jeff looking like a guido

^"This song is dedicated to me stupid fans..."

^LOL my Uggs ruined the bad-ass disposition

We eventually came back to the room and ordered some chinese. We crashed around 3 am which is actually quite an early night for us but we started drinking so early. Vicki and I slept on the bed, Sarah and Diane on the mattress and good ol' Jeff pulled a couch from the common room and somehow squeezed himself in with us. In the morning, he even bought us a big breakfast. Thanks again for the southern hospitality, Jeff. ^_^

What a great weekend. I got a chance to actually let loose and get away from my mental problems here. Did I actually achieve in sorting out what I needed to sort out? No, not really. A drunk mind kinda just takes you away from your problems, not solve them. I guess I always knew I'd have to come back and figure them out again. The trip to Windsor just put a pause on everything, but it's back to the daily grind for my mind. This weekend had my 5 stars. So what did Jeff think about the weekend?