when did guys start thinking starring at a girl like she just grew a third tit and saying "oh my god" or "holy shit" were appropriate pick up attempts?

come on guys! have you really gotten THAT lazy and unoriginal?

don't get me wrong-i have no imminent need or want for the stereotypical 'romance' and over-eccentric gestures-at least not the kind guys expect girls to pine for. but a little chivalry would be an improvement or at least an attempt to make yourself appear to have some form of substance.

you.look.ridiculous.

like a caveman.

a caveman with a penis for a brain.

actually scratch that-a caveman with a penis and no brain.

when you cat call us, hoot, hollar, stare, lick your lips and you see us smile slyly-were not putting out an omission of joy pertaining to your "advances"-we are containing our laughter resulting from your overly premature assumptions that we enjoy your ron jeremy-esque type of approach. we will go on to tell our friends and co-workers "some complete loser tried to get my attention today by...-insert demeaning, ineffective pick up line here-..."

and then we all laugh. a lot.

i have been working promotions for beer, bars, sports games, etc for the past two years and if its anything i've gained experience in-its not so much sales or public speaking, learning how to carry 10 beers on a tray while wearing 5 inch heels and offering my knowledgable opinion on the recent sportscentre highlights while trying to look cute-but, basically, men in a nutshell.

so men in a nutshell; oversexed-aggressive-misled.

why misled you say?

example: i recently worked a promotion at a bar in toronto. i'm standing there mingling in the crowd of bar-goers and this guy-tall, good looking,confident- approaches me and the first words out of his mouth were "holy shit" and his eyes obviously grazing a certain pair of assets. thinking i was enticed by his opener, he continued to re iterate to me how much money he really had "yeah i drive a 2010 BMW 5 series-that's my summer car..."

how do you say "i don't give a flying fuck if you drive a lotus or a childrens tonka truck. get a life." without sounding like a complete bitch?

yeah I didn't know either; therefore i just looked at him like he had just admitted his love for zoophilia or robbing old women. yet...he continued. persistent as fuck.

thats one thing i will give men some credit for; persistence and dedication. most people would see the look of utter dismay and disgust on my face and peace out of the 2x2 area i was standing in...but not mr.bmw-he apparently just assumed he hadn't bragged enough about his money. or just spoke in general. constantly. never stopping/giving up.

needless to say-he did not get anything but a sympathetic smile from this girl.

i realise there are women out there who 'gold-dig'-but im not one- and most legitimate and intelligent woman arent. the 21st century has seen a rise in salaries for women of all careers, as well as an increase in independence, sexual liberation and opportunities. so as beyonce would say "Tell Me how you feel about this try to Control me boy you get dismissed pay my Own fun, oh I pay my own bills."

If guys just realised that an honest, non aggressive, non sexually oriented pick up line or gesture would impress a girl ten times more than your ever popular car honk/whistle/call, etc.
Remember: We're not mindless cattle.

So guys; step it up. use your imagination. we'll dig it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tomJNpB-30

Epiphany; a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

What a beautiful word. A word which eludes to an even more beautiful, gratifying, awe-inspiring feeling.

Epiphany. I had one. The best one.

As it states in its definition "usually initiated by some simple, homely, or common place occurrence of experience" and it was. All it took was one stupefying move on one individuals part that made me realize how superior I was and how sad, inferior and to put it bluntly-pathetic he was. Even though, at the time, this occurrence pained me, I know feel myself omitting more of an sympathy towards him, a want to say "it's okay that you belittle yourself with your actions and bring upon consequences of self loathing and humiliation." One day he will learn how demeaning and pointless his efforts to perform these immature acts actually were, he will learn that people mock his actions and that he looks insecure and docile with his very seemingly pathetic life.

Insert- sympathy.

Not empathy.
Because frankly, I've never done such things as purposely afflicting pain on someone for my own sick sense of self gratification. I've never wanted to diminish my self worth and disrupt my good standing reputation in the ways that he has as of recently. And this is what makes me superior to him and his sad, dwindling little life of developing a beer belly, balding and basically going no where in life. No where but down, that is. I, on the other hand, have never been more successful and happy. I feel like lately everything I've wanted to accomplish or obtain, I have-through optimism and confidence and not letting anything, not even his pathetic excuse for a man actions or words, affect my performance at life. I am rocking life and loving every minute, no every second of it.

My dad keeps saying "men are intimidated by strong, independent women."
I don't want to believe that men are that meek and unassuming.
But my experiences keep proving my dad's omission as correct, in fact-they are right on the nose.
Strong men seek strong women.
Weak men seek weak women.

Believing my own theory; it can be said that this simple minded individual just purely cannot handle a women with more integrity, goal orientation and determination than him. This is such a beautiful realization. For, two months ago, I toyed with the notion that I was not good enough, and that there was something imminently wrong with me. Now I see it's the exact opposite. He has realized, what took me so long to: I am out of his league.

Now don't assume that I am, as it's said, "full of myself" because that is so far from the truth its debilitating. I am not full of myself, I'm simply not going to be pumped full of the bullshit that is him making me feel like a lesser compaired to him, when in actuality I have what he wants and yearns for: security, intelligence, confidence and self worth.

So I'll let this one incident slide, I'll let him have this point, because I think deep down he is an insecure little child with no optimistic future of his own. I may sound bitter, but its all in good standing. I just merely wish him the best of luck in life...hes going to need it.

Now I want the best out of life and he isn't it. So no matter how many 'dragons' he 'slays' and how many callous words he attempts to re interate to me, I'm going to hold my head high and say- "It's okay, you'll learn one day...and I truly hope you do-for your sake, not mine cause moron-I'm longggg gone."...or maybe I'll just flash him a smile and remind him what he will never in his demeaning, worthless life have ever, ever again.

The Four Types of Modern-day Hippie


The popular hippie counterculture that started back in the 1960’s was indeed so popular that even now, the concept and the culture still manage to live on.

However, the years have changed the counterculture a great deal. Despite the attempts of true-blue hippies to carry out and retain the genuine hippie spirit as they make the transition from vintage hippies to modern-day hippies, the modern times still caused various changes.

Today, the modern-day hippie has four sides.

1. New-hippie or neo-hippie– a true child of the 1960’s counterculture

The first type of what is called “modern-day hippies” is the true-blue hippie, a true child of the 1960’s counterculture. He (or she) is the true picture of a full-blown hippie, who lives the original hippie values from inside and out.

These hippies are now called new-hippies or neo-hippies. Similar to the hippies in the past, they are still politically informed and educated. They also advocate the same causes in the spirit of peace, love, and freedom. They keep up with current political and environmental trends. They protested against issues that contradict with their hippie values in the same manner that the hippies of the past protested. As true-blue hippies, they still also live with the good and the bad sides of being a hippie. They protest against way and violence as they promote peace. On the other hand, they also like to engage in unusual activities, use odd clothes and accessories, and experiment with drugs in their advocacy for liberal rights. They really are hippies to the core.

2. “Granola children:’ Lighter and brighter hippies

The second type of modern-day hippies are a somewhat downplayed version. Their hippie side is reflected more by their environment-friendly, tree-hugging advocacies, rather than through their political and societal idealisms. They are mostly vegetarians, and tend to live through life in a breeze and simply focus on their love for the environment and clean, healthy things. They are lighter and brighter hippies. They are sometimes called granola children. A “granola child”, according to the urban dictionary, is one who “enjoys tie-dye, granola, and peace”.

3. “Techno-hippies:” Angry hippies

The third type of modern-day hippies, on the other hand, are the exact opposite of the granola children. They are the angry hippies. They are more futuristic, and like to show off their hippie values in enhanced, exaggerated ways. They are called the “techno hippies”. They are more modern and more forward than the Neo-Hippies. They take the hippie character to the next level. They sport tattoos, body piercing, and strange hairstyles such as the famous dreadlocks. They also exhibit their opinions though rave parties where they mostly consume large amounts of drugs and alcohol. They also take their advocacies to the Internet and are in tune with the latest gaming technologies. They are, in a way, rebellious hippies.

4. “Rippies and yunkers:” Hippies without a cause

Finally, the fourth type of modern-day hippies are not really composed of hippies anymore, as a lot of people claim. They are hippies without a cause. Cynics like to call them “rippies”, because they are simply ripping off the hippie lifestyle, for lack of an original generational style and culture to live by.

There are a lot of terms closely associated with them. One of these terms is “yunkers”, which refers to a modern-day hippie who smokes and takes drugs a lot. Somehow, they give off the idea that they are merely using the hippie culture as an excuse to liberally take drugs. Accused of wearing the trendy, designer versions of distinct hippie clothes such as tie-dyes, vests, and sandals, they are also often referred to as the hippies who have lost their political activism.

http://www.letlifein.com/2008/05/16/the-four-types-of-modern-day-hippie/

she once had an awkward moment...just to see what it felt like.
she lives vicariously through herself.
she once gave an autograph...in sign language.
she didn't just taste fear-she ordered seconds of it.
she's a lover-not a fighter, but she's also a fighter, so don't get any ideas.
she is right handed. and left handed.
the police often question her, just because they find her interesting.
she once knew a call was a wrong number, even though the person on the other end wouldn’t admit it.
when she wakes up, the roses smell her.
if she disagrees with you, it is because you are wrong.
when she looks in the mirror there is never a reflection because she is only 1 of a kind.
in Pamplona, the bulls run with her.
whatever side of the tracks she’s currently on, is the right side. If she were to cross them, she would still be on the right side.

she is...the most interesting girl in the world.

Today, as I stood in front of the camera, makeup perfected, hair completely inspired, kick-ass theme oriented outfit, I rocked-with every look, pose and move.

I would pay to know. 

I am loving life.

I'm breathing it in-drinking it up...hell-I'm damn near drunk off of it. Today one of my best friends and I were basically on a tirade of our optimism and freedom and ambitions, goals...we just lathered ourselves in positivity and it felt amazing. I think 90% of our responses to each others highly devised and meritorious plans for the future was:

"FUCKING RIGHT!"

Yeah, were a pretty eccentric pair-to say the least. Thinking about the things I have going for me in life I realise what DON'T I have to smile about, to cheers to?; I'm young, educated, have kick ass friends and family, great jobs, I'm embarking on a new adventure in September. Over time I just put together the high points of my life and realised they totally trumped ANY miniscule or verbose negative points. So, to those little meaningless points I say-you've vacated this ever expanded mind wayyyy too long, hit the freakin road-good riddance. So, in conclusion; I LOVE MY LIFE x's 5473583. I won't attempt to mislead you into thinking this isn't a new development-because it is. hey, better late than never, right? unreaaaal song:
RAINE MAIDA LYRICS – YELLOW BRICK ROAD

I remember the days when we talked for hours
And we were young; we thought we had superpowers
We kissed the sky, expanded our minds, thought we could fly
We were dreamers, and we’d never die
We were young punks but we showed potential
Us against the world, we weren’t sentimental
We weren’t our problems, our age or our paychecks
And we weren’t taking any body’s sh!t

If I knew now what I knew then, I’d
Back up do it all again, I’d
Take a bow, take it real slow
Take a ride down the yellow brick road

Knew now what I knew then, I’d
Back up do it all again, I’d
Take a bow, take it real slow
Take a ride down the yellow brick road

Come on, come on wise up
Come on, come on wise up
Come on, come on wise

The winters were cold but we had your parents basement
This underground was for sinners and we embraced it
Magic pills, fairy tales, Syd Barrett’s ghost
Oh, we’d all get on that spaceship
We measured our lives in coffee spoons
And those Friday nights quickly turned into Sunday afternoons
We weren’t our money, our muscles or our regrets
We were having a mere life experience

If I knew now what I knew then, I’d
Back up do it all again, I’d
Take a bow, take it real slow
Take a ride down the yellow brick road

Knew now what I knew then, I’d
Back up do it all again, I’d
Take a bow, take it real slow
Take a ride down the yellow brick road

I remember the days when we talked for hours
And we were young; we thought we had superpowers
We want our problems, our age or our paychecks
And we weren’t taking any body’s sh!t

If I knew now what I knew then, I’d
Back up do it all again, I’d
Take a bow, take it real slow
Take a ride down the yellow brick road

Knew now what I knew then, I’d
Back up do it all again, I’d
Take a bow, take it real slow
Take a ride down the yellow brick road
Take a bow, take it real slow
Take a ride down the yellow brick road

Come on, come on wise up Come on, come on wise up Come on, come on wise up

It was a year ago today. It still seems like yesterday.

We lost one of the most impossibly amazing people I have ever come to know and love. My Uncle took his own life, in what I have come to realise, will never be understood. I have tormented myself with questions with less than adequate answers. Soon after finding repeatedly empty hands pertaining to conclusions I decided, not to ask, toil or subject myself to the grief of attempting to explain this raw and arduous event but celebrate, remember, smile, laugh, reminisce.

When I think of my Uncle Bill I can literally exonerate a mental picture; christmas, sitting across the table from him, by chance, as its about a 1 in 60 chance as a result of our colony sized family, and him strategically placing his purple tissue paper crown, post christmas chracker popping (a Garner family tradition) on his head and smiling ever so blissfully as he looked around a table full of people who loved him with every inch of their being. He looked over at me and gave me that goofy Uncle Bill look, a look that could never possibly be explained by words-just impossible. I recall giggling to myself at his composed, child like look and demeanor while sporting a purple crown-he rocked that thing, let me tell you. This is the last memory I have of him and it will be buried within my heart for all the days of my life.

For all the times he pulled out my teeth(sometimes-against my will!), made me laugh so hard I thought milk would escape from my nose or simply sat with me and enjoyed a world juniors game, I miss him. And my regret runs deep that I didn't spend that extra little bit of time with him that I could have. If I can offer anyone a piece of advice pertaining to family; to enjoy and love and absorb all the time with your loved ones as you can would be it.

Although I cry today, my tears do not fall off my face, but rest lightly upon my lips as I smile, for I know the spirit and love that my Uncle Bill created will live on forever, in his amazing children; Jodi, Bill and Victoria, his brothers and sisters, his patients, his friends and yes, in me.

Uncle Bill-you made me proud to be a Garner. I love you, I miss you...until we rock tissue paper crowns together again.

2:30am and I cannot sleep. 

As September lingers closer, I think it imperative I voice my uttermost fear...

Returning to school. At 22. In a place where I know basically no one. When I'm already broke.

I cant quite distinguish if this fear is of the unknown...or possibly the known.
Am I fearful of not knowing what will happen in the next two years as I complete my BA or am I fearful that I know exactly what its going to consist of and that I have lost all the spontaneity I once embodied? Am I fearful of finally 'losing my youth' or am I fearful that I'm much too old to try and recant it?

Homework. Exams. Keggers. Lectures. Bars. Late Nights. Early Mornings. Room mates. Time Management. Hangovers.

Am I ready to go round 2 with the complete disaster that is my life when I'm in school?

I want to feel estatic and liberated and basically consumed about pursuing more education-as yes, I'm a self proclaimed nerd because I freggin love learning- as well as moving away from the one horse town I currently reside in which envokes nothing but stress on my life..try living in a town where everyone knows everyone but doesn't REALLY know anyone so they just create their own ideas of who you are, what you believe in, stand up for, etc, etc.

I should be counting the near minutes until I pack up shop and head for a completely new life. But I'm hesitant and to put it bluntly-scared shit less as to what I'm going to experience in the next two years. My Dad keeps saying I should embrace this opportunity to find myself and figure out what I REALLY want out of life-but so far all I've 'found' has been my gut wrenching fear of the unknown. I feel like I've hit a serious roadblock in my new found self-discovery.

I know my dreams, I know my ambitions; I want education, I want possibilities, I want memories, I want travel, I want friendship and love, I want to expand my mind, I want to look back and smile at the time in question.

Will I find what I'm looking for?

....Stay tuned.

Music legend Micheal Jackson, vixen Farrah Faucet, television salesman extrordinar Billy Mays, and most recently, alternative-indie DJ Martin Streek.
What do they all have in common? (Other than about a million hits each when typed into Google.)

They were all taken away from us way before their time-quickly and unexpectedly.
Although I respect and feel for the families, friends and fans of each of these charismatic and unique individuals-I also can't suppress myself from thinking about the 'little people'..the tragedies that go basically unnoticed in this time of mass media coverage of more 'important' deaths.

While at work-distracting myself for some time on Facebook I came across a group about a young girl from Guelph, Ontario who had met an untimely fate. Her death was that of a complete accident but was horrific in every one of its ways. Isabel Warren was using the washroom across from a park that her class was playing baseball at when a concrete wall crumbled on top of her. As I read this the points of the story stuck out like needles, sent chills down my spine and collectively placed goosebumps all over my body;
-it was one of her last days of school
-her friends watched her cling to life under a heavy blanket of concrete and molding
-days before her birthday
-she was a 2016 Olympic hopeful
-she was beautiful, charismatic and motivated
-she was 14

My mind raced with naive notions;
Someone had to been at fault.
Concrete walls dont just crumble.
Little girls don't just die in bathrooms.

My Dad is educated in such areas as building development and construction and is justly put-an intelligent individual and when our family dinner discussion turned to that of the early demise of the girl just two hours west of our small town and simple a half hour from where I attend university, he simply stated: "that should not have happened."

Now for the sickening feeling: The building was only a few years old and had been apprived by a building inspector.
How many public washrooms have you used assuming they were safe, heck-how many buildings have you been in under the same mindset?

I couldn't count the answer to that question for the life of me.

In continuing on my mid-lunch cyber surfing-I came across a story about a recent one year anniversary of one of the most horrific crashes to take place in and around our area. It will come to no surprise to me if you recollect hearing the story of the four young adults who were involved in a speed and alcohol related accident in the muskokas on July 3rd of 2008 where three boys passed away. Their deaths as pointless as that of Isabel Warrens.

And what do these two stories have in common?

Answer: They both have messages that can be delivered to youths, adults, towns..shall I continue or has my point been made clear? ENDLESS people can benefit from the lessons of these stories. Lives could be saved. We as a society, have the responsibility, to take what we can from these stories and use them to help each other and ourselves.

Putting the emphasis on building safety and efficiency in towns and cities.

Focusing on laws preventing an open window to even remotely drinking and drive.

If you think we cant learn from this then I would be so bold as to title you a fool.

Putting aside blame, questions and deliberations.
Is it safe to say stories like this are overshadowed and completely downplayed in a time like this?
And although I believe people should celebrate the life of Isabel Warren, as they are MJ, Farrah and others. Why is it the stories of drug overdoses and suicides-things which are preventable- get the vast media coverage.
I understand their famous but come on...I would, personally, much rather watch a segment on how we can prevent drinking and driving then seeing specle sized fans lining the streets to get a glimpse at MJ's casket (and I am one pretty legit MJ fan.) The importance and interest placed into the deaths of those famous individuals basically insinuates that their means of death has more merit than those of small perportions.
No I am not stating that every person who meets their demise in a drinking and driving accident should have a nationally televised funeral-I do however think their story should be globally known and lessons from their stories extracted to help the world.
I recant; I just do not get the infatuation with the death of someone famous. Are they more important-in the grand scheme of things- than we (being us simple minded, middle class civilians) are? I would think not. I would think we all have a specific place in the world and when that person in question is taken from that place by means so ridiculous and uncalled for that we should educate and advertise the lessons we can use so that we prevent any more of these horrific tragedies.
I think we can learn. I think we can prevent. I think...

But hey-what do my opinions really matter...I'm not famous.





Websites:

http://www.tylermulcahy.com/

http://themessageinthebottle.com/

http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=107066520744&h=_SoZ2&u=Avrj5

http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=117481005148&h=-dOEy&u=QcugD

Today I got hit by a mack truck.
...metaphorically of course.

While reading a text message from a 'sorry excuse for a man' ex boyfriend of mine-for the umptenth time- in between my morning iced coffee and midmorning bran muffin-attempting to analyze his callous words, I realised the embarassing over-intensified energy I put into loathing his very core and the moment I even, for a second, illustrated to him he got the better of me.

Why do we as females put forth so much energy and time into discussing what the opposite sex is thinking, saying, doing? ..among other things.

Why do we continuously return to our ex's with the notion they will 'change' or that they now be more accomodating to our wants and needs as individuals, as well as in a relationship?

Enter: MACK TRUCK.

Because we comsume ourselves with the ideology that we need a 'man' to be what society considers happy. All over tabloids we see famous starlets claiming to be 'broken hearted' over their recent (but by no means primary) ended relationship. If we delve further into the magazine that is safely said to be a multi billion dollar a year industry we can further read into the starlets pain and anguish over her, supposed, lost love and ask the question: how ever will she cope with this tragic loss?

Give me a freakin' break! She will 'cope' just fine and this is no where near a 'tragedy.'

9/11 was a tragedy, the tsunami in Thailand was a tragedy. This is merely another bump in the road in the journey of our life.

So why do we have these deep sought out feelings pertaining to the necessity of a boy, his affection, the title of 'his girlfriend?'

I blame Disney. They completely distorted my ideas and formatted my expectations involving the opposite sex and 'romance.'

But I digress.

This previously mentioned mystical mack truck smacked me with a new found sense of entitlement as a woman. Think about the wasted energy we females use up venting and gossiping and plotting and analyzing when it comes to boys. If you calculated all the time you spent toiling over boys-who, lets be serious, probably forget you even exist, you could have run a marathon, wrote a book, travelled, learned a new skill...just the thought of this freedom exhilarates me to the extent of giddy like tendencies!

When putting it in that perspective I feel like a silly girl who lacked (note: past tense) a sense of self worth or integrity. Don't get me wrong..I love boys; I love first kisses and butterflies, romantic gestures and mild cat and mouse games. And by no means am I bitter or cynical in any sense, but I do feel my independence soaring as I evolve and mature and learn that loving myself should and will always be' numero uno' in my life and if I used all my energy that was previously spent on boys I can only better myself and my life in general. When I do finally meet a man who can keep up with me I will welcome him with open arms but from now on I vow to put any and all energy that would have gone to towards incompetant and frankly-unworthy men...retract that..boys, into something that isn't completely redundant, ridiculous or for lack of a better word-stupid.

No more will I subject myself to his immaturity and lack of compassion.
No more will I sell myself short and play mind games.
No more will I exhaust myself with repeated thougths and over analyzing of his actions and words.
No more will I be at his every whim.
No more will I downgrade my intelligence or education to make him feel better about his lack there of.
No more will I WASTE time.
No more will I settle.

I am woman-hear me roar.