That Show Is Right Funny, Eh?

I just received an e-mail from Apple with a subject line that actually grasped my attention. I usually delete every e-mail I get from Apple because I don't care about the newest upgrades or nifty things that Apple has come out with just after releasing something equally nifty the day before.
I always kick myself for making the mistake of signing up for those subscriber lists. I still get e-mails on a daily basis from Travel Cuts and Sephora. I've tried to unsubscribe but some evil genius is preventing me from doing this.
Anyways, the subject line of this particular Apple e-mail read; "Great TV shows now available on iTunes Canada." I became very excited because alhtough you can download TV shows quite easily the quality is not always the best. And it can be stressful to doneload things. It requires a lot of patience and I find myself checking on my downloads every half hour or so. These are precious moments I could use doing something else like watching TV, checking Perez or creeping on Facebook.
So the arrival of this new time saver made me quite excited. In retrospect I should have known that the words "Great" "TV shows" and "Canada" do not belong together. To give you an idea of what I'm talking about the TV shows iTunes has decided to advertise with are "Corner Gas", "Degrassi; The Next Generation" and "Dragon's Den." Now, don't get me wrong Corner Gas is an awesome show. Me and my brother went through an entire season of that and the short lived "Wonderfalls" on a car trip to Sugarloaf. Although we both asked ourselves, "Why did we watch this garbage?" the important thing is that we watched it. Corner Gas is funny in a sad Canadian way but I wouldn't classify it as a "Great Show." The same goes for Degrassi. That show was amazing back in the day and to be honest the "New Generation" is just as awesome. Me and my housemate would become irate if we discovered we had missed it. It's good mindless crap that should be watched.
Still, it is not something I would EVER buy on DVD or admit to others that I actually watch. As for "Dragon's Den" what the fuck is that? It makes me think of Dungeons and Dragons which is never a good thing. Also, the promo photo features a bunch of scary ass dudes in suits and a fugly redheaded woman with a single white stripe in her hair. Only Alexandra Cabot from Josie and the Pussycats could get away with that look and even that traumatized me as a child - "Is she a skunk?" "Is she old?"
So to sum it up, being a Canadian sometimes sucks. We're stuck with shitty shows that often fail and shitty shows that somehow succeed. And then, as if we haven't been insulted enough, these shows are used to introduce a feature that was previously only available in the states. But, I'm not complaining. It just makes me sad to think of the people who will pay to have "Robson Arms" and "Instant Star" readily available on their iPod. Somehow that's more embarrassing than admitting you actually enjoy these Canadian guilty pleasures. For now I'll just keep pushing my new computer to complete endless downloads and use up it's valuable hard drive.

Am I Cat?

Things I Thought About On A Thursday Afternoon At Carlingwood

Who owns the mall?

Does anyone go to the Carlingwood Family Restaurant?

Are they still serving breakfast at the Carlingwood Family Restaurant?

Why is Talbots still in business?

Why do I have an urge to knock that infant down?

Is the New York Fries employee as depressed as he looks?

Why don't young males notice when they start growing a moustache?

Why are there so many people here at 2 PM?

More Than A Blog, It Is... A Nation

I just googled my blog, for reasons I can no longer remember, and the first hit that came up was "Spotlight on Nation," a stunning description of the habitat of The People's Republic of Haffalaff.

Upon quickly scanning the website I thought Haffalaff sounded quite nice. It's official animal, I was pleased to learn, is the haffa which "frolics freely in the nation's many lush forests." And besides this charming animal, the nation seems to turn a blind eye to inappropriate behaviour. "Crime -- especially youth-related -- is totally unknown, thanks to the all-pervasive police force."

The website describes the nation as "environmentally stunning" and "ruled without fear or favor by a psychotic dictator, who outlaws just about everything and refers to the populace as '[his] little playthings.' "

UPDATE: I got bored of writing this but after a month I decided to do a follow up on this ever growing and increasingly prosperous nation. I was shocked and saddened to learn that THE NATION'S DESCRIPTION HAS BEEN REMOVED. I urge readers to create a petition to bring back the nation of Haffalaff. Only you can rebuild this state. Lord knows this world doesn't need another New Orleans catastrophe. I would start the petition myself but unfortunately I am far too busy making lattes and taking people's money in exchange for delicious fat-free bagels. Still, not a night has passed that I have found myself neglecting my official duties as spokesperson and activist for this unique nation. Before I go to bed I whisper the official motto of Haffalaff until I fall asleep with a single tear running down my face.

Please, let me whisper no more. All you us together, unite and sing!

Haffa, Haffa, Haffa, HAFFA!

Drugs = Hobo Clowns

Do you ever wish that the thoughts you had when you were stoned would be remembered when you were lucid? Me too. The other night I was at that comfortable and self-enlightening stage of highness.

I was watching television and I remember that every single thought I was having was brilliant and of incredible importance. I was probably watching commercials (they thrill me) and I made a realization that led to an incredible discovery. What could a McDonald's commercial plus a Heroes promo equal? Hmm... I don't know know either. Big Macs give you superpowers?

Usually when I do drugs I try to force myself to write my brilliant thoughts down but something always seems to grab my attention. It's most often the television (how can anyone resist TMN on demand?) or sometimes it's a book (with great patience I managed to finish a chapter of "But is it art?"). What really makes me procrastinate though is my own mind. I was watching "Tenacious D: The Pick of Destiny" and I could not concentrate on the music or hilarious jokes for the life of me. I kept thinking of insane concepts and worst case scenarios.

I was alone in the house and thought about what I would do if some hobo came up to the back door and demanded to be let in. I thought,"Oh, I'll be able to shuffle over to the phone and call the police." Or, more simply, I thought, "I'll just refuse him entry." But then, I began to think more realistically. This hobo is no vampire, he could come in if he wanted to. This is when extreme paranoia and fear sets in. Truthfully, I think I'd be too scared to get up from the couch to reach the phone especially now that my vision has replaced my kindly hobo's face with that of a clown. AND, he's tapping the glass door with a butcher knife already laced with blood! Shiiiiiit. And so on and so ad infinitum.

This is how my mind works. By the time I caught myself out of that whirlpool the movie was over.

More Like Office FREEDOM

Things to do at work when the shite database server you use is down:

1. Spin in your chair for twenty minutes.

2. Go to Perez Hilton and Dlisted every half and hour.

3. Check your e-mail.

4. Go to Facebook and creep for an hour. Post messages on your co-workers walls who are equally as bored,

5. Research the nutritional value of cherries. (Antioxidant and potential heart attack preventative. Neat!)

6. Sketch a photo of Daniel Radcliffe from Details magazine.

7. Research Harry Potter.

8. Watch Youtube videos of Pleo the robotic dinosaur.

9. Make an art display of the empty water bottles littering your desk.

10. Write blog posts while at work.

The Blogs Are Back in Town

Well, it's finally time to start blogging again. I've put off posting for so long for a number of reasons. For one, the act of blogging requires me to admit that I have too much time on my hands. This isn't really something that has happened recently but has pretty much been the norm since I returned home from university. By indulging in blogging I basically affirm that I am bored and need to do something creative in order to prevent myself from committing some act of insanity and/or self-destruction. But, since it's always better to admit defeat than overcome it (wait is that how it goes?) I've decided that blogging may actually keep my spirits up.
For the past few weeks I have done little to re-route myself in the direction my life previously meandered. I no longer smoke weed everyday. I am no longer upset when I miss The View. I don't celebrate the weekends by ingesting beer and shawarmas. I don't even hang out with people who are the same age as mine. Instead, I've come to accept a new kind of schedule; one with less hangovers, but arguably more depression. Now don't worry, I'm not going to go all Holden Caufield here, but I must say that finishing university and moving back with your parents is like being on the receiving end of a monkey throwing shit. It's not pleasant. Sure, I'm happy to be home. I love my house and my family, and being fed home cooked meals everyday is a nice change from choosing between domino's pizza or those rotten Mr. Noodles.
It's an awful adjustment and probably the hardest thing I'll do in the near future is choosing my next step. I have many options but have no idea where they will lead me.
What I miss most about school is the group of friends I had. You never had to question who you were going to party with or who you were going smoke pot with. It's strange that I'm a foreigner in the city I've lived my whole life but I haven't lived here nor spoken to my so called acquaintances from high school for almost 5 and a half years. The world's a different place when you're exiled from the safety of university. Though I know I'll have that feeling of community again, it's difficult to find a new one that fits you just right.
So, this post is basically an affirmation of something I was at first afraid of admitting. I'm sad I'm out of school but you know what, when you really think about it, who the fuck cares. Maybe I'll just take off to India or something. I like cows.

Justify My Sloth

Well, it turns out blogs are harder to keep up with than school! Maybe it's my general laziness (yesterday me and my roomates got through an entire season of Friends) or maybe it's that I don't really know what to write about. I could detail my nights of partying but I feel as though photos on Facebook illustrate that sloppiness adequately enough. I could review the movies I've seen but I could sum them up in sentences rather than blog-sized paragraphs. For example, Sharkwater taught me that the death of sharks will result in the death of humans. 'Nuff said.
So, rather than try to hone my energies onto one particular subject I thought I would attack this blog with a standard writer's philosophy; write for yourself and write what you know. Or, I could turn the tables a bit and write about the stuff I know about myself. Hey, this freewriting kinda pays off! What I know about myself is that I have one exam (a take home mind you) and then after the 11th I am done for good. Funnily enough, I am stressing more about what I am going to do after the 11th than my upcoming exam.
So far I've been dividing my days up pretty well. At noon I wake up and read trashy magazines for an hour. Then, after becoming uncomfortable from my increasing bed sores, I get out of bed and wander around the apartment for awhile. This wandering usually includes cleaning up various clutter that's accumulated from the night before, washing some dishes (always some, never all!) and making breakfast. With some toast and a cup of coffee I settle in front of the TV with the intention that I will only watch one Friends episode and then start my day. As seen by today's activities I usually don't move from my original spot unless I have to eat or go to the bathroom.
Usually though I give myself one task to make my day seem more meaningful. Yesterday me and my roomate went tanning and then went to the grocery store. Oh, and I went to Vid Diff so I kind of topped her for tasks. So really, the judge of a good day is how well you divide it. As long as you make it outside at least once, you really shouldn't beat yourself up for being lazy. I know I don't. Today my task was to go get garlic bread at the grocery store and I actually walked over there until I realized that it's Easter and everything's closed. The interuption of this holiday caused both me and my roomate (she tried to go the gym that go-getter!) to fail at our daily tasks. Fortunately for me, the publishing of this post has given this day some purpose. Until tomorrow... I actually plan on preparing for my exam (only slightly) and downloading The Ricky Gervais show which I've been putting off for far too long.

I Already Hate My Blog Title

How do you pick an appropriate blog title? I realize that this blog is probably temporary and that it will most likely go in the same direction as my old blog (may it rest in peace) but still, the title is something to worry about. I mean, Nail Biter? Yeah, it definitely says a lot about me. I bite my nails like it's my profession. I've actually wondered how much other people notice it in me. During a recent bout of paranoia, I envisioned myself appearing in the Dalhousie Gazette in an article about the weirdo's you always see at school. Under the heading "Finger-stubs" there'd be a picture of me, mid-bite with wide eyes full of shame and embarassment. I hate biting my nails but I also love it. What other non-harmful habit can you indulge in? There's the odd hair chewers but they're less accepted than the nail biters. There's the pen-twirlers but that's more of a habit based on boredom. The versitility of nail biting is, I think, what makes it such an enjoyable practice. Not only do I bite my nails when I'm stressed but I also do it when I'm mentally intrgued by something. Good book? I'm biting. Scary movie? Yup, I'm biting. Blog-writing? Hey, look at that, I'm biting. I guess I do bite my nails on a remarkable amount of occasions but I don't want it to define me. That's why I'd like to propose that nail biting can be seen as a loose metaphor for...wait for it...LIFE. We all have our vices; Along with the nail munching I've become enamoured by the effects of caffeine and alcohol and most recently mixing both together. It's my way of coping with the stresses of everyday life. Even blog writing has helped me calm down for the onslaught of tests I have tomorrow. Although when I say help I really mean distract and therefore contribute to my declination as a university student. But seeing as how this is my last year of university and that I've been doing the same stupid shit for four years I can't say that I am too worried. After all, isn't everyone just a bunch of nail biters waiting for that golden day when their nails have grown so long that they can finally scratch their heads with relish? Think about it... I know I have.