What Is It About Her (Lippa's The Wild Party)

She gets me through the day, that Kelly Clarkson. She really does.

Why Did I Listen To That Man? (Urinetown)

I took a risk and I lost. I hate that I changed my life plan for nothing.

I'm Not That Smart (The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee)

I can't help but feel that some of the decisions I made a couple of short months ago are now biting me in the ass. I'm an idiot.

Other People's Stories (Amour)

I had a flash of genious yesterday. I figured it out. What I'm going to do to get me through the next year. I'd been trying to think of something to write, a series of short plays, or a screenplay, that could get the ball rolling for me and my friends. Thoughts came to mind but nothing good enough. Then it hit me. Use my camera and make it real. I love filming. I love my friends. I love this business. I'm going to combine the three and interview all my friends who are struggling artists and try and make some sort of documentary out of it. I'm still fuzzy on the details but I have help. I've enlisted a friend of mine who's an up and coming young screenwriter/director and she's going to help me work out the kinks and get this bitch done. You will all be my subjects. Even you, Pants, even though you never blog anymore. I've very excited. Very.

Winter's On The Wing (The Secret Garden)

I guess I went through like a month of not blogging because I didn't know what was going on with my life and I didn't know how to blog about that. I was jobless, and still technically am. That wasn't upsetting. It was nice. I don't know how I managed it, but I'm still not out of money. I'm afraid to check my bank account to see how much I'm down to. I sleep in every day and do nothing. That's fabulous. Unfortunately the nothing that I do includes eating. As in not even eating. I'm not healthy and I wish I could say I had an eating disorder because that would be glamorous, but no, I'm just too lazy to eat anything but Subway once a day. I like that Neenia cleans the kitchen and I like that Bedroom Prince tidies up the apartment every day. I've just now started to enjoy doing a show and the people I've been doing it with. I went to an audition last week that left me embarrassed. I'm not a singer. I'm not a dancer. I shouldn't be going to auditions that I know I have no chance of getting. I should be branching out into comedy. I should be writing again. I spent (ok, my father spent) thousands of dollars on film school so I could learn to be a screenwriter and what I have a written since graduation? Nothing. With my new job search I debated whether to start looking for a real job or not. To start a career. I've been craving stability and a maturity I've never had. I'm almost 27. There comes a point when you have just grow up, no? No. I don't want that life. I want to be an actor. I went to a movie the other night and was inspired. Oh yeah. Going out and experiencing stuff inspires me. I just remembered that. Staying in and watching Sex And The City inspires me too, but I have to remember that I have a life to live outside of Carrie Bradshaw's. It's getting cold out and I'm falling in love with the weather. I get upset whenever a sudden heat wave reappears because I want it to be fall. It's so romantic, fall. I love the leaves changing and the sweater weather. I like being chilly but comfortable. I can't wait for the first snowfall. I can't wait for winter coat weather with hat and scarves and gloves and new window displays at Holt Renfrew. I can't wait to have a bedroom I can finally call my own so I can start decorating it to suit my taste. I can't wait to start being happy with me again.

Remind Me (Never Gonna Dance)

What am I doing in musical theatre? I've been asking myself that a lot these days.

Rumours (Anna Karenina)

I remembered something this morning that I hadn't thought about in a very long time and it upset me all over again. It's not really a big deal but I hate when people think things about me that aren't true. I really don't care what people think of me as long as it's true. If you hate me, I should hope that it's because I did something to pissed you off. You all probably have heard this before but I'll reiterate. Someone told a bunch of people that I had sex with my roommate at the time. People believed it which baffles me considering I don't have sex, and young twinky blondes are not my type. It still upsets me that people think that I'm not still a vigrin, because I am. The person who spread the rumour claims to have heard it from the kid I was living with. To this day I don't know if he made it up, or if the kid did. And it pisses me off. I don't mind if people spread rumours about me that are true. Like the rumour that I had a threesome with a closeted friend. That was true. I was fine with people gossiping about it because people could make assumptions about me based on fact. But this sex with roommate business still has me throwing up in my mouth.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious (Mary Poppins)

Princesse Alathariel is back! Life is about to get a whole lot funnier.

I'd Be Attracted (Wind In The Willows)

There's a couple that I have feelings for. I have no idea who they are, what they do, what their voices sound like, where they live or work. I've only see them. Twice last week. On the street. Looking fabulous. No, but seriously. They are amazing. He wears a red dress shirt with a white tie and black pants, but not a regular red dress shirt, white tie and black pants. His outfit is crisp, as if he had just gone to Holt's, spent $15 000 on three items and wore them out of the store. He's young and attractive and when I first saw him I wanted to be him. Then I saw her and I wanted to be them. She is shorter than him and wears dresses. Not like H&M or Jacob or GAP dresses. Fucking dresses. As if she were going out on the town in 1960s Paris. She'll wear a black dress with a white pajmina and a red belt, or something to compliment his outfit. Her hair is a bowl cut bob. It would look ridiculous on anyone else, but girlfriend works it. The thing that kills me is that both times I've seen them, they were walking down Queen street or up Yonge street, looking like they had just stepped out of Italian Vogue, and both time I saw them around six pm. That means they must have been coming from work. What do they do? Be fabulous all day and get paid for it? I'll pay them to come sit in my apartment and let me look at them. I want to know who they are!!! I'm going to have to hang around the corner of Queen and Yonge tomorrow between the hours of 5 and 6:30 and see if I can't spot them again. I may bring my camera. I may approach them to tell them how much I love what they're doing to my life. I almost did. Both times. I actually had intentions of stopping them on the street to say "I like this," or "I just need you to know how that you're the couple I want to be." Or something like that. But I chickened out. Both times. I just can't believe that two people can look this amazing everyday and act like it's normal. I have to find them.

Look Who's Alone Now (Nick & Nora)

I went to sleep last night knowing today was my day off. Oh, don't be fooled by the date of this blog. It may say it was written on Saturday, but we're less than two hours into Saturday so I'm still calling Friday today. So I figured I would get up early and clean the apartment and then get my haircut at 12:30. So I get up late and rush to get my haircut. Finally. After two weeks of my hairdresser cancelling on me last minute (doesn't that mean I can technically charge her?) I was finally calming down the frock on my head. My hair chick is weird but she gives wicked haircuts. Not today, though. So I was happy to be in the Yonge and St Clair area (where the salon is). So after my haircut (which included discussion of how I'm for some reason going to start teaching her spanish), I went for a walk up to Davisville to check out the ol' hood. I walked up Lowther to the apartment complex I lived in with Miss Pants. The fountain is renovated and operating in the back! I was gorgeous. I walked around to the front to discover that the front fountain was still useless. So I walk up to Eglington and go to the pet store. No cats I'm interested in. I go into the HMV were I bought many a movie in the past. I'm determined to not spend money. I see Police Squad is on DVD. This is fate. I was just two days ago thinking I would love to watch Police Squad again. Too bad it's not on DVD. But it was. So I picked it up. It's two for $30. So I shop around for another DVD to match it with. I end up with The Colour Purple, A Star Is Born, Requiem For A Dream, Running With Scissors, A Streetcar Named Desire, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, and The Way We Were. I spent over a hundred dollars. I don't have a job in a week and I spent over a hundred dollars. It was worth it. Just like ArtsMonkey's chocolate. Then I go to Indigo to purchase Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris. I'd been reading Glamorama by Bret Easton Ellis for the last six years, so I figure I should try a new book. I walk back down towards Davisville and end up at Tabule, the Lebanese restaurant I tried to make me and Princesse A's place. I sit down, have some humus and chicken with rice and veggies with a water and a coke and a good book. I read the first sixty pages, talk to the waitress about the hilarity of Sedaris, love my life. I head home and decide to pick up some cleaning supplies to freshen up the apartment. I get walk through the door to find that Neenia has already been on a cleaning rampage and wet my pants and stick my tip in her vagina. I introduce her to the Swiffer carpet flick and she lies on top of me. I write disgusting things in the present tense. I put out an air freshener that smells like strawberries and put some toilet cleaning thing in the toilet and some baking soda in the fridge. I do three loads of dishes after she did one earlier. I clean the fridge inside out including behind it. She throws out a bunch of disgusting shit that's been sitting in there forever. We cum together. Bedroom Prince also cums, probably. They leave to be fabulous, I stay in to be fabulous. While they're away I rearrange the furniture in the living room. It's what I do. I love to rearrange furniture. When I lived in my bachelor I did it like every two months. When I lived with Miss Pants I did it to my bedroom once or twice. When I lived with Princesse A, I did it to the living room whenever the mood would strike me. When I moved I changed my bedroom for the first time in nine years. It's a passion of mine. It refreshes my mind to refresh my living space. I hope they like it.

I'm watching Robbie Williams Live At The St. Albert and loving my life. I'm going to take a shower.

A Memory Of A Happy Moment (Aspects Of Love)

Back when we lived together, Princesse Alathariel cut me a cheque for forty dollars for cable and internet, or something. I never cashed it. Because on cheque she wrote on the Memo line: "Feelin' Hot Hot Hot!"

That's too fucking fabulous to cash.

The Elephant Song (70, Girls, 70)

I feel like a new blog, but don't feel like writing anything in particular so I'll repost this msn conversation I just had with that dude I dated for like two weeks last year. We haven't spoken in months and months but he's kept in touch with one of my fruit flies. He messaged me out of the blue today. This conversation reminds me of why I liked him.

Him
Dear Skinny-Rabbit,
Please be advised that I have been doing my best to tend to Susan's (heretoforth, "Your Fag Hag") emotional needs in your absence. While I pledge committment and effort, I cannot guarantee that I will meet Your Fag Hag's need to spontaneously break into song with a homosexual male. I wish you continued success in your new(er) endeavours.
Warmest regards,
Not-a-lovah
Me
Not-a-lovah, thank you for letting me know that you are there for what's her face. We finally spoke on the phone today after much phone tag playing. I am happy there is another gay in town to keep her somewhat satisfied.
Him
LOL
Me
how are you doing, by the by?
Him
things could certainly be worse. so i'll refrain from complaining. for now. it's just so tough, because complaining is how i do. it's how i roll.
Me
I'm quitting my job because it's turned me into a complainer. That's not what I want to be when I grow up.
Him
what job [was] that?
Me
back at the hard rock in Toronto.
It was always annoying when I worked here the first time, but things have gotten more complainy during the year and a half I was away.
Him
well, i'm not trying to gossip, but i've heard that the bussers have attitude and the salsa is made with PLUM tomatoes. PLUM. the audacity.
Me
You may have your hard rocks mixed up. We don't hire bussers at the TDot Hard Rock.
But I will confirm the salsa tid-bit.
Him
or you could ruin a poor attempt at humour. whichever you prefer.
Me
I like to keep things as uncomfortable as possible.
Him
HA. yeah. no one wants a cozy ass-groove when they can have a bed of nails.
Me
that's what I keep telling my co-workers, but they just keep on complaining.
Him
which brings the conversation full circle. and quickly. how impressive
Me
it was getting old
my eyes have been wandering
Him
*looks around; hums a britney spears megamix as a gesture of agreement*
Me
I went to a club last night where they mixed Amy Winehouse singing Rehab to the beat of Toxic. It was nice.
Him
and a social commentary.
Me
relevant.
Him
the only thing better than a remix is a remix with right-wing ideology embedded therein
Me
that's all I ask for from a dj. Give me something to dance to that will really make me think.
Him
that's why i like the pussycat dolls' "buttons". pro- or anti-seamstress? a conundrum for the ages.
Me
those felines sure do tackle the hard issues that everyone else is afraid to talk about.
Him
to think, it started with meow mix. try and argue against revolution now.
alright, i'm out. i'm going to heaven (club). because i'm worth it.
Me
I've always said that about you.
Him
awwwwwh
you said something nice. are you ill?
Me
no, no, I meant that I've always said that you're out.
Him
what a relief. i don't have the number for EMS in toronto
have a lovely evening, skinny-rabbit
Me
I wish you the same Mr. Not-a-lovah

Damn It, Janet (The Rocky Horror Show)

Why am I always plagued with life decisions? So far I think I've made all the right moves:

2000: The decision to drop out of university and tell my parents that I'm going to film school or never going to school again.
2001: The move to Vancouver for film school.
2002: The move to Toronto for theatre school.
2005: The decision to move to Ottawa to pay off my debt.
2006: Move back home.
2007: Debt paid off, move back to Toronto.

I've only been back here a couple of weeks and already I don't know what to do. I had my six month plan. Toronto for July-September. New York for October-December. But now I'm getting the feeling I should stay until Feburary and move to New York in March. But there are so many reasons why October-December would be a much more convenient time for me to be in NY. And if I stay in Toronto, do I get my own place like I've always wanted, or do I stay with my awesome roommates in this awesome apartment? I fucking hate my life.

Omigod You Guys (Legally Blonde)

I had an interesting night last night. I went to a 70s disco party and was all decked out in my vinatge grab, attracting a lot of attention because, let's face it, I was the best dressed male there and I know how to steal the scene at a party. But I wasn't expected the attention I got from one particular fellow. Let me remind you that I never pick up. Never! But I was looking particularly fabulous on this particular eve. So this dude starts telling me how awesome I look and how cool I am, yada yada yada, all the stuff I tell myself everyday. So then there's this point not too far from the end of the evening when I'm sitting by myself, taking a moment of rest, when he plops himself down on the seat next to mine. He tells me again how great my outfit is and asks me who I'm here with. I pull out my camera and show him pictures I'd taken early and say "Her. Her. Her. Her. Her." They're all hot. He's all, "Ooh, hot girls." I'm all, "I know, I know." Then he's like "You must be getting a lot of attention from the ladies here tonight." I go "Well, yeah, but I've actually had more of a response from the guys." I bring up that I'm not looking for female attention. I'm a homo. He tells me that he respects that, but he's straight. He then says his girlfriends always think he's gay. Then that he just broke up with his girlfriend two weeks ago. Conversation flows, and I know what he's getting to. He bring up points like he can find a man attractive but be sexually attracted to him. He can't see himself loving a man. He would only feel comfortable sleeping with a man if it's in a threesome situation with a girl as the third. He's into fashion. He may be metrosexual. It could be confusion. I tell him that I don't believe in denial and that at 28 he should know by know. Pretty much he was trying to get me to tell him that he's gay or that he should explore with me, maybe. It was a pretty fun conversation for me. He even pulled out his phone and asked for my number. Then the people he was staying with (he's from Kingston) were leaving and he said he'd stay. Then he suggested we dance. We got up and he put an arm around me. I danced with him a bit and then ditched him for my friends. I was there with them after all. He left without saying goodbye. Even when I pick up I don't pick up.

So then I get home and the toothpaste tube is missing. I find some mouthwash and use it. In the morning, still no toothpaste. I mouthwash, go to work and suck mints all day. Where is the toothpaste. I don't understand? Why is there never water in the Brita? I'm not mad. I'm just curious. Maybe I'm in denial.

Here's Where I Stand (Camp)

Ok, so I recently watched Love, Actually. Everyone who has seen it tells me they love it. I love multiprotagonist films and I like british films so I figured I would love it also. Turns out I wasn't impressed. I actually thought it was not a good movie. There were some great moments. I really liked the little boy. He's adorable, a sweet actor, and I like the twist that he was in love and that's why he was so downtrodden, not because his mother died. But what was with that scene at the airport? I'm sorry, but do all little tiny boys know their way through an airpor well enough that they can out-run security and not have to stop to check what gate this girl he was chasing after was departing from? How did he know where to run to? Please tell me. And then when he is taken back to Liam, the little chick comes out to kiss him on the cheek. I'm sorry, did her really say "Ok, black daughter, you can go all the way back to see thi kid. We'll just hold have them hold the plane. Did security say, "Sure, little black girl, go ahead and return from where you came. We won't find this suspicious or have to re-search you when you come back through. And Liam... oh, Liam. You were fine and all, but the Claudia Schiffer thing. It was cute up until the point where he meets her, only she has a different name. She's just the same person with the same voice but not a model.

Keira Nightley, why were you in this movie? You and your two men had no connections to the rest of the cast, except at the end when we find out that you just happen to be friend with Colin Firth. I'm sorry, what?! You had nothing to do with each other throughout the entire movie, he wasn't even at your wedding and all of sudden you, the black dude and the white dude, who are all sooo much younger than him, are his best friends? That's gay. Also gay is what the fuck was up with that storyline? I really liked the character of the dude in love with his best friends's wife, but it was said that he never spoke to her, so how did he end up falling so hard for her exactly? And how did the three of them end up staying friends? And how did he know that she would answer the door and not him?

Back to Colin. He and that maid. It was a cute storyline, but the whole he says something in english and she says practically the same thing in portuguese... that was retarded. So forced. So dumb. Just... dumb. But I really liked her sister. Like, I like-like her.

Laura Linney, you were great and I liked you story. But why did it die out? You didn't even get a moment at the end?

Hugh Grant... fine, I'll accept this one but it's still cliche.

I did love some shit. Like the scene where Laura Linney's in bed with that sexy fucker, but her brother keeps calling her, and the scene that follows it at the hospital. That was good shit. We needed more of that. Emma Thompson's character rocked the shit. I totally dug her story. But exactly what was her connection of Liam Neeson?

The stand-in couple were just darling.

Ugh, and the Colin Firth story had such promise! If only they hadn't fucked up with the cheesy dialogue.

UGH! And what the hell was up with that dude who goes to the States to get laid? What was with te stupid cameos and the absolutely ridiculous dialogue that turned the movie into American Pie 8? That really actually pissed me off.

I didn't who the fuck I was supposed to care about in this film. I didn't have time to invest in anyone. Except Emma. Just when I had bought into Laura, she disappeared. But everyone else... I wasn't sure who was likeable and who wasn't. I wasn't sure why I should like any of these people at all. I think it was a poorly made film. I'm not satisfied. That's just the way I feel. Don't hate.

If this movie taught me anything, it is that there are a lot of black people in London, but none of them are important.

I believe I am done speaking on this subject.

Simple Little Things (110 In The Shade)

I'm thinking of being nice to my parents now that I've left them. They're old and lonely. I'll let you know how that goes.

Take Back Your Mink (Guys and Dolls)

I went to my local strip club tonight. All the men were beefy. Made me feel like I won't do well. However, it was ladies night. I was prepared to see manly men. I'm not a manly man. I appeal to old lonely men, not rowdy women looking for a good time. I'll have to go back when there are no women present and see how different the atmosphere is.

The Burden Of Life (A Man Of No Importance)

It will be 12:30 in twenty minutes. I have to choose between going downstairs to check out the gym, watching The Young And The Restless, or doing my New York City Ballet workout video. I'm going to choose the soap opera. It's been good to me. Working out has not. It has only gotten me into debt.

The Truth (Brooklyn)

The truth is I like my roomies. I also let a man from my past put his mouth around my penis today. I didn't like having his in mine. There's a reason why I haven't hard oral sex since last September or October. I guess I've had my fix now and I'm good to go without for another few months, until I get to New York and can start seeing if there's anything between me and my Scooter. Either way, it was nice to lie naked with someone after we just came and talk about our careers. Plus I've been crazy horny since I got back in the city. I think I'll join ArtsMonkey in season five and send the men away now.

Have It Your Way (Assassins)

Fine, Warrior Princesse, you win. Here is a new blog. Update. I live with two fucking losers whom I hate. They're dirty and ugly and have no sense of humour. They also never talk about sex. Is that what you want to hear? LIES?! Is it?!