My ABC's

Accent: sexy Canadian
Bra size: 32A
Chore I hate: picking up dog poo from the backyard
Dad's name: Dieter
Essential make-up: foundation
Favorite perfume: The Healing Gardens 'Passion' ;-)
Gold or Silver: Silver
Hometown: Guelph, ON
Interesting fact: I live in the house beside my old house.
Job title: Child Care Worker/Technical Assistant/Art Director
Kids: None of the time. But if I had some their names would be Jack or Austin and/or Chloe or Caitlin
Living arrangements: with the maternal unit
Mom's Birthplace: Kitchener, ON
Number of apples eaten in last week: two. with caramel sauce. horray for nutrition!
Overnight hospital stays: Once when I was born, and then again for about a week when I was in Grade 2.
Phobia: ...I get stage fright?
Question you ask yourself a lot: "Uhh... did I remember deoderant today...?" JUST KIDDING! It would have to be something like "WHERE IS IT!!?!?!?!" whilst referring to the sunglasses that are on my head... stuff like that.
Religious affiliation: Christian
Siblings: Jake the Snake
Time I wake up: Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays: 7:00. Tuesdays and Thursdays: 6:10. Saturdays: Whenever the hell I feel like it. Sundays: 8:00
Unnatural hair color: Dark Brown
Vegetable I refuse to eat: collie flower (sp?)
Worst habit: pervading people's brains with annoying tunes or catch phraises (today I had no fewer than ten people humming Funky Town )
X-rays: alot of tooth ones
Yummy food I make: some bitchin' pasta. Also anything barbicued :-D
Zodiac sign: Aquarius. The erratic, yet friendly one.


Now I know my ABC's, next time won't you sing with me!

burn motha burn!

HELL YEAH!

Sorry. My Internet Explorer is having another one of it's 'give Anneliese hell!' phases, you know, where it lies (yes, my computer lies to me, the dagnagged contraption!) and tells Anneliese that a page cannot be displayed, when really it can and then when it does, it doesn't display itself without errors on it which prevent me from publishing. And we all know how Anneliese feels about lieing. And computers.

Anyways.

Mood: depressed, upon accepting reality that I am in Guelph Ontario as opposed to, say, Paris France.
Music: we don't need no watta let the motha burn! burn motha burn!

So this morning I freaked out on account of I thought there was a centapede in my pants.
Allow me to explain.
Once again I was one of the last GCVI rugby girls in the changeroom. As I made to gather my clothing off the floor I took note of a giant centapede unabashedly close to said clothing. I promptly removed said clothing from centapede proximity whilst chuckling to myself upon envisioning entire panty-clad rugby team running and screaming like morons due to giant centapede infiltration.
I attended practice, as thoughts of centapede drifted from my mind.
I returned from practice, donned my every day attire and exited changeroom only to notice peculiar lump situated near right hindquarter of form-fitting jeans... which according to my keen feminine instinct could only mean ONE THING --

OH MY GAWD THERE'S A GIANT BUG IN MY PANTS!!!!!!!!

I swear I actually felt it crawling!! So I braved the stairs battling sudden wave of panic and hyperventalation, and headed straight to the little girl's room as fast as my crisis-stricken hiney would allow, stormed into the nearest stall, whipped off my pants, AND--
...oops. It's just the inside of my pocket!! :-)

Silly me!

Well that's my story for you.

Ta Da!

French and Italian Wonders, part I

Mood: sleep deprived
Music: south park - kyle's mom's a bitch

HAHA! This song is just too funny for me right now. I need to go to bed.

Anyways. I'll start off by stating that my trip was AMAZING! However, one specific group of grade 11 girls were possibly the most irratating, nerve-wracking creatures on the whole entire planet. For instance. We were touring a perfume factory in France where there was a large poster on the wall illustrating where all the essential oils came from around the world and indcated also that pine came from home sweet home, right here in Canada. Without missing a beat, one of said unfortunately loud girls pipes up "EEEEW!! Who would want pine in their perfume???"
One. It's not for perfume, it's for cologne you twit.
Two. That's incredibly rude. Shut the hell up.
But to my utmost delight, there was also a group of grade 11 girls and boys whom I became pleasantly familiar with who made my trip that much better right when I was contemplating putting a gun to my head. I love you.

Another amazing aspect of my trip was that as soon as you're over the ocean the local sleaze count drops dramatically as people you don't like cease to exhist. WOO HOO! No Whoremongers or Bitchfaces as far as the eye can see!! I love it. I'm moving to Paris. I can honestly say I didn't miss anyone, though there were some individuals whom I thought of fondly throughout my travels.

One thing that was slightly disappointing was that I didn't see a mime (or Robbie Williams or Jake Gyllenhaal). Not a single. bloody. mime. Hello? I SPENT A WEEK IN FRANCE!! There were a multitude of people with metalic body paint who pretended to be statues, though. I guess those are the mimes of the future... though I'm fond of tradition, the future-mimes cheered me up just a 'lil.
And I loved Venice. I loved it so much in fact that I brought a piece of it home with me, made of fire-engine-red Italian leather that swings nicely over my shoulder and costed me 95 euros. (Down from 127. They liked me 'cause I'm Canadian. :-) ) And you know who went to Venice the same week as me? KEITH RICHARDS!!! Whoa man. Anneliese and Keith Richards, in one week. Venice sure is the place to be!

Anyways that should be just about enough fun for one night. But if you want to know what it's like in France right now just envision no snow and lots of cigarette smoke, and a billboard for this in every direction you look.

Ciao.

EH!

Mood: tired beyond all comparison (jetlagged)

So I'm back in Canada and doesn't this suck! THERE'S SNOW!!!! Grrr! Seriously... takeoff this morning was absolutely beautiful... Paris was shrouded in fog, and all you could see was the itsy tip of the Eiffel Tower peaking out along with some other monuments... THEN we reached Pearson International, and - CORNFEILDS? ...Where the fuck is Missassauga?!?!

Anyways, a little explanation as to why this post might suck (more than the others). I have spent the last 12 days bunking with girl known as Charlotte who happens to have quite the potty mouth! It may have rubbed off on me just a tad. Also, you might notice those little numbers seperated by little :'s at the posts which represent the time of day I posted the blog. However, my body says that it is now something like quarter to three in the morning, and when you've had four hours of sleep previously, this is not a happy time to be awake. However I am currently attempting to keep my normal sleeping pattern so as to avoid becoming death on wheels for all of next week.

MOVING ON!

I'm so spoiled with all the rich culture! I turn the city streets expecting to see a glistening white marble God glaring down at me in all it's glory, or at the very least a roof trimmed in gold, but then I remember - Wait! this is CANADA!! Uh, yeah, Canada... *ahem* "Ladies and gentlemen, if you would kindly look to your right you will see our giant inflatable Molsen can -- always a favourite amongst the college students - and if you follow this here avenue lined with identical brick houses you will reach the water tower, followed then by The Beer Store and a trailer park... did you know our town has a resturaunt called 'The Portly Penguin'? I didn't! That's so kick ass!!"

O, CANADA!!!

Oh how I love my country! ...more to come.

Ta Da!

France, au de jour.

mood: AWESOME!
music: blues brothers, roxanne.... whatever they're playin in this joint.

I don't know what the fuck I just said in that title. And I just dropped another F-bomb. But I've been bunking with Char so you can kind of expect that.

Anyways, this trip is awsome! In Florence I saw the statue that I vow to someday marry (David, by Donatello) and in Venice I went on a gondala with some lovely ladies and met some hunky argentenians that called us beautiful... aww! My current hotel is in Nice, situated in the middle of the french ghetto. And to be quite frank this neighborhood freaks the hell outta me.

Six days to go!

Ciao baby!

Ta Da

Untill We Meet Again in the Post Following This One

Mood: pumped!!
Music: our lady peace - innocent
days 'till I blow this popstand: ONE

With the exception of having to deal with Whoremonger's retarded emotional shenanigans one last time, I have had a most excellent few days. Saturday was the Road Trip that I went on with The Russian and 58 other religious people. It was great and I wish I had more time to regale you with it's wonders, but seeing as I leave the country in T minus fifteen hours I've found myself rather preoccupied. I find it humerous that after spending a day with the Christian's I have but a Queen CD and a large unsightly bruise on my right outer thigh to show for it. ...I am very proud.

Tomorrow night I'll be (almost) kickin' it in Italy, that is if my plane hasn't crashed. Maybe I should stop saying that, it might be bad luck or something. While in the bath tub I mentally compiled a list of things, in no particular order, that I want to see while in France and Italy.

1. A gangly young man in a striped shirt, black pants and red scarf smoking a cigarette whilst leaning against a stone bridge and playing an accordian
2. Something being flambed
3. Ridiculously good-looking people of both the male and female varieties.
4. Several mimes and/or Robbie Williams
5. A noticeably plump Italian man of the culinary profession with a large black moustache slaving over a hot pizza oven whilst belting out a native tune in his lovely barritone
6. At least one car that's worth more money than my house
7. A fancy boat
8. Link, or, at the very least, a Link look-alike
9. A Pope
10. An enchanted Castle with or without a dragon
11. Some pretty Jesus' carved out of marble
12. A pirate
13. Someone named Lestat
14. Females who have smaller breasts than I
15. Jake Gyllenhaal

And some things that I would not like to see on my trip include:

1. A terrorist/terrorists
2. A large French or Italian pervert (especially a hairy one)
3. My pilot jumping out of the plane attatched to a parachute
4. Ugly nudies
5. A deportation form bearing my name
6. An oxygen mask

Oh, and some more good news (for me) -- my insane father? Got me a Visa!!!! w00t!

Luvsies!!!

Ta Da!

[Edited at 10:38 to say: HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!]

I must have died alone, a long long time ago.

Feeling: hormonal
Music: David Bowie - The Man Who Sold the World
Number of Days 'till Freedom at Last: 4

For those of you who know me too well, I'm in a BDG mood right now and have taken the liberty of creating for you a lineup of songs I would like played at my funeral, should my plane barrel into the Atlantic Ocean and explode into a million billion pieces.

In no particular order: (except for Wild Horses which would be the grand finalle)

David Bowie - The Man Who Sold the World
Sheryl Crow - Wild Horses cover
Our Lady Peace - Bring Back the Sun
Outkast - Bombs Over Baghdad (just for kicks)
Sarah McLachlan - Full of Grace
Sarah McLachlan - I Will Remember You (at least one person is going to cry today, dammit!)

...Throw in a few tear-jerking country songs and some Ludwig van Beethoven and I'm all set.

Also I am expecting a dunk tank full of frigid water where my guests can pay homage to me by drowning Bitchface or at least freezing the majority of her man-loving digits off and maybe an arm and a foot.
And after each person delivers their eulogy (I'm expecting many guests) they may partake in a manditory sacking of Whoremonger's peewee eighteen times, each time a tribute to one year of my wonderous life.

Following the service the guests may proceed by limo to my uncle's ginormous house in Montreal where a large pig will be roasted in my honour.

Ta Da!

random musing

...Don't you just hate it when you're chewing gum, and it gets squeaky, and its just like having like, a squeaky shoe... inside your mouth?

I know I do.

Also.

FIVE DAYS, BIZZNATCHEZ!!!!!