Tea Party! And Rehab.

Hello to one and to all!

T'was the grandest affair in plan, and yet, the foulest in action.


The point is, we all looked very ready for a polite reception, and the table was laid beautifully. In theory, we were all quite dainty. However, in practice, we curse like sailors and watch videos on YouTube. What can ya do?





This is apparently my Anna Wintour impression. Although, she hardly looks so expressive. Plus, I'd need a huge pair of sunglasses and a blunt-cut bob. And I've never seen her in a hat. That would occlude the hair.




A pretty teacup as seen by Meg, the artsy-fartsiest.





Cassie, Biff and Meg, being very proper indeed.




Cheryl and I, apparently posing with food. How demure.



And now to discuss the complete opposite of demure. Honestly, I tried my best to like Amy Winehouse. I read an interview with her before I ever heard her music. The interview was exactly the same as the subsequent interviews I read. She tarted around acting bored, made out with her ever-present boyfriend a lot, half-answered questions, and cut the interview way short. How annoying would she be to hang out with? V. annoying, that's how.

So I listen to her song. What in the name of what?! GO TO REHAB! The Betty Ford is calling your name!!

And today I see this. You know what? I rest my case. (But do note that she's making Paris Hilton look fat.)

Ugh.

Things You Have Probably Seen Already, Full of Hilariosity

Blogging is hard. I think of lots of ideas for posts, but then I change my mind because no one wants to hear about it. Truly. So sticking to my one-post-a-month trend, I've decided on some very funny videos courtesy of The Mighty Boosh and Flight on the Conchords. If you haven't heard Flight of the Conchords yet, you are so missing out! They're beyond funny, and it makes me wish they'd play a show in St. John's some time soon. However, if I was from New Zealand like they are, I would have no desire to travel to frozen tundra to play for a small crowd in a bar, and then promptly turn into an ice cube. That would suck more than painting all day...

Ok, so the first is Old Gregg from the Brit-com The Might Boosh. I thought that everyone had seen Old Gregg before, but Riggio proved me wrong yesterday. I also began to wonder today if Old Gregg was maybe a bit immature, but then I realized that all the actors, writers, producers, etc. are likely older than me. If they like it, I can too.

Also, the fisherman looks an awful lot like Keith Richards in drag, circa 1972. Just sayin'...





And now for Flight of the Conchords. I'm just going to link one (my personal favourite) but it's definitely worth watching all their stuff.

It's business time...



Tune in next week when I might post pictures of our upcoming tea party. China cups and big hats. No old ladies.

Rebecca

Various Pictures That Chronicle the Most Interesting Parts of Life in Lab. City Thus Far...

Feature this: A chick wakes up at 6:30 every morning Monday to Friday, goes to work at 8:00, comes home at 4:00, finishes supper, etc. around 6:30 that evening. That's 12 hours. Assuming she sleeps eight hours (yeah, right) every night, that's four hours each night Monday to Thursday, about seven hours Friday night, and (let's be generous) 12 hours each Saturday and Sunday.

That's 84 hours a week I'm either working, sleeping, eating, or doing homework, most likely, and only 47 hours I week I can feasibly hang out with the gang.

Here's some of the things that happen in that 47 hours:



Getting ready for Brian's grad a few weeks ago. I was so matchy.




Aiden and I dancing at grad. I was seriously feeling old at my fifth grad in a row.





Selena and I hanging out in a tire. Seriously. If you're not from Lab. West/Fermont, you might not be aware of the sheer size of the trucks used in the mines to haul iron ore from point A to point B. But when you consider that Selena and I are sitting on the rim of the tire, you might get an idea.




Hanging out (very literally) in Fermont.




Somehow, Selena woke up here.





Ok, this might be a little hard to explain, but we were hanving a scanvenger hunt, and one of our missions was to take a picture in the Lab. City ghetto. You will notice me making the official gang sign of our hometown, LW, for Lab West. Represent.

Or not, whatever.





Cassie at I hanging out at Mog's house.


C'est tou!

Pwned by IOC

I would like to say that I don't know how this happened. When I posted last month, I was planning to spend the summer in Alaska, battling the Northen Sasquatches, and in my spare time working at my uncle's recording studio and taking care of my cousins. Now it seems that I am back in Labrador. I start tomorrow with my retraining in the Mines of Moria. When I'm not killing orcs, I shall be painting, complaining, and making a lot of money.

I'm not exceptionally happy about this. I might even end up missing the prom. Chris has decided that we need to recreate our proms, since us folks in Labrador don't get a sensible prom like the rest of the world, we just had a graduation ceremony. So, sometime at the end of the summer (and hopefully after I get back) we're going to be kickin' it old school. Over-the-top prom-posals, sweaty palms, spiked punch, and miles and miles of taffeta. I encourage everyone to attend!

That's about all there is to say at this point. I've had a whirlwind couple of days preparing to come home, and now that I'm here the days are going to drag. Maybe that means I'll do more blogging. I'll probably take more pictures while I'm home, which makes the blogging more interesting. Who knows? It might even appear as though I'm having fun here...

SCHOOOOOOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER! IIIIIIIIIIII'M ALICE COOPER!

I'm not really Alice Cooper. I'm just a regular chick who isn't a rock star (but ought to be), and likes Toothpaste for Dinner a lot.

I had my last exam today, and it went pretty well. Even better than the exam though, was getting back my big term paper and getting a mind-blowing NINETY-FIVE PERCENT on it. Take that everybody!! I think that's more evidence that I'm supposed to be a soci major. Oh well!

In more exciting news, I am likely going to Alaska for the summer to work in my uncle Kurt's recording studio. Ooooer. I'll be there for about three months, and I'll finally get to see my aunt Mary Jane, and meet my two little cousins Dominic and Julia. And Kurt. I haven't actually met Kurt yet either. He's a pretty trusting dude, apparently, to hire someone he's only talked to on the phone and online. :)

Erm... that's about all for news. Selena is having a shindig for her pharmacy friends here tonight. Guarenteed to be fun!

Now if the weather could comply to summer standards...

Toothpastefordinner.com has shown me the way

I think I got the message. I am one crap blogger-type person. But it's ok, because I haven't really got anything to say anyway.

Mostly I like to update my blog when I have pictures to show. For instance, I'd like to put up the pictures from our St. Patrick's Day party/ Kristian's birthday party from last weekend, except they're on Selena's camera and she probably hasn't uploaded them yet. Which is ok. It was a really fun time for what I participated in. I was chilling out being cool when suddenly my stomach said to me, "If you dare move one more inch, I'll stop digesting this disgusting A&W burger you put in me. You'll be sorry." So I lay on my bed the whole night and had people come and go. It was unreasonable behaviour on the part of my stomach. As long as I was still, I felt great. As soon as I moved, it was hell all over again.

Note to self: No more fast food.

I never usually eat fast food. It's always an unpleasant experience. But I somehow forget in the months between the encounters that there's a reason I'm not eating it, and the cycle begins again.

More importantly, I made an awesome Guiness cake on Saturday for the party, that I got to enjoy before the fight with my stomach. Don't worry, I'm positive it's not what made me sick. I want to share it with everyone because it's embarassingly simple to make, but it's the tastiest thing on the planet, even if you hate beer like I do.

In other party news, Sheena's Super-Rad, Ultra-Gnarly Beach Party is on the 31st. I'm excited because I get to pretend it's summer and have an excuse to listen to the Beach Boys in semi-public.

More on summer. Where the hell is it? For that matter, where the hell is spring? It's been pretty nice the past few days, and so I got excited and bought some summery-type clothes. I had plans on wearing them today underneath all my super winter gear. Then I wake up this morning to snow. SNOW! Holy poop!

The snow also drove away all the little birdies that come every morning to my new birdfeeder outside my window (picutres to come). There's woodpeckers, bluejays, and a variety of little tiny birds I can't identify. But they're all so cute! And I get to wake up to them every morning (afternoon). I'm like Cinderella with less housework and no ugly stepsisters. But also no Fairy Godmother... I should get one of those.

Speaking of Cinderella, Disney movies have taken over my life. I think I've watched Sleeping Beauty more times in the past couple of months than in my entire childhood. I don't know what my deal is, but I've become obsessed with the older films done in the 40's and 50's (like Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White) because of the art work (and the sappiness). I've taken to crying over commericals and stupid things again. I caught the last part of Hope Floats on tv last night and cried my eyes out. Then I cried over that Iams commerical with the heart-shaped kibbles and the whole "you've shown me how much better four legs are than two" bit. I lose at life. I used to be so stoic! Now I'm a complete sap.

Alright, that's enough of that crap. I hope everyone has come out of the bright side of hell week, school-wise. I'm kind of in a grey area with school right now, but I'm resolving to rock out finals. Also, I'm applying for Features Editor at the paper this week. Speaking of which, I should go get my junk in order for that.

Thank you and goodnight.

The Answer to All the World's Problems (Sort of)

I never wonder why it is we haven't yet found the cure for cancer, or established a permanent colony on the moon, or proved the theory of relativity.

It isn't that as a species we're incapable of doing so. The brilliant minds who can find the answers are out there. The trouble is, they're all working in the cosmetics industry.

Oh yes indeed. There have been more revolutions in the science of beauty in the last 10 years than there have been developments in the study of HIV and AIDS. (Ok, I don't know that I can safely make that claim, but it seems to me that there has been. The only thing we seem to know about the spread of HIV is how to spread awareness campaigns, or to make money off of it's humanitarian potential. Thank you GAP Inc.)

But back to the original point. Makeup is scarily technologically advanced these days. We've got a chemical for anything. As Too Faced Cosmetics creator Jerrod Blandino puts it, "Effects that were only only possible with good genes or a great plastic surgeon will now be available in the mall". Crazy and true.

I can't claim to be opposed to it though. I quite willingly pay too much money for chemicals to smear on my lips to make them look bigger. They used to burn and sting, but I've used them so much I can't even feel it anymore. That's kinda scary. And if I ever get a free gift when I buy makeup at Sears, it's invariably anti-wrinkle cream. At 20 years old, I know I don't have any wrinkles. But the prospect that I might soon drives me to use to abuse. I mean, check out this stuff. I got a tube of it for free (I'm not quite crazy enough to buy it), and now it's being used to combat the very natural lines under my eyes. I know, I'm crazy.

But, I'm not as crazy as to buy the rest of this stuff. Number one, for the makeup impaired, Stila Smoky Eye Palette includes an audio recording in the palette case to talk you through each step of applying the eyeshadow in the correct way. I forsee this being the future of makeup. But honestly, how many times will you need to hear it until you can recite it word-for-word?

Next is the at-home airbrush tan. Airbrush tans are the latest thing not to hit St. John's (as if I care, because I look more skin-disease than California Girl with a tan). It sounds like what it is. A technician-type person sprays you down with fake tanner, and you look all tanned minus skin cancer. Also, the spray liquid can be used to give you the illusion of defined muscles if you have a deft touch. The trouble is, most people probably don't. I forsee a lot of silly-looking fake tan splotches.


And then there's all the anti-wrinkle serums, with the med school literature to advertise them. Chief among the brands is Cosmedicine. This stuff could make your grandma look 30 again, even if she's dead. (Ok, bad joke.) However, some of these creams are so loaded with chemicals, they claim to be able to reduce facial asymmetry. Others will give you at-home microdermabrasion or chemical peels, a fairly risky prodcedure even when done by a professional, unless you like excessive redness, broken blood vessels or flaky dry patches on your face. No thank you.

Moving on, if you have ever desired thicker, longer and more radiant hair (and then wished for it to fall out in clumps immediately after) look no further than our "mane" man Frederic Fekkai (oh dear, another bad joke). His new line of hair goops inhibits the production of DHT, the hormone that ends the hair follicles' growth phase. In other words, your hair that should be falling out naturally is going to stick around for a lot longer than it should, and when you stop using the products, you're going to shed like a cat. Your hair will probably fall out in clumps, like I said.

Lastly, another crazy breakthough that I do admit I can't wait to spend money on. Smashbox O-GLOW, already sold out on the Sephora website. It's likely the scariest thing of all, because it makes you blush for hours at a time, creating a "micro-circulatory effect". I'm fairly certain that's not healthy. Pretty sure there's going to be some broken blood vessels in my future.

So there you have it. This is what all the great minds of our time have been up to. Pretty much making celebrities even more famous and competitive, and sending the masses into a money-spending frenzy. We won't have the cure for the common cold anytime soon, but the next time Jessica Simpson or someone else equally rich and famous has a cold, their makeup will be so technologically perfect, they'll look even more radiant and beautiful than they do when they're healthy. Oh joy.