Whatever starts at the park, ends at the park!

Ok so this weekend was tons of fun. Friday night Erinne, Mayssan and I went out. Then we were joined by our friend T-man and two of his 'boys'. Ended up at some crazy bar in Parkdale, danced to a few songs and then split! After an interesting walk through an alley, getting chased through the alley by a car, finding a tv, (which t-man had to throw, not once but twice) drinking Tuborg as we walked through the alley, finding a teddy bear covered in paper maché, taking some pictures with mr. bear maché. There is just too much to type! We ended up going to Mayssan's place and continuing on the dance party, minus T-man. T-man was Toast! Crazy moments for sure! After having only 3 hours of sleep, I went to the park and taught skating for 4 hours.

Saturday night we hit up Andy Poolhall and were severely dissappointed. We need a new brit pop venue, its just not right!

Sunday, puppet dance party at dufferine park! Basically everyone skates on the rink while T-man spins some tunes, and some people wear these weird "puppet costume things" Erinne and I weren't into skating so we just walked around the rink. The party moved on to Mayssan's place, just T-man, Erinne, Mayssan and I. T-man was our private dj for a few hours, wicked fun. Like a Virgin! owwwwww! Eventually we went back to the park and hung out with some other peeps. It was suggested that everyone puts on some skates, grabs a stick and has a drunken game of Shinny (hockey) I fell so many times that my knees are totally bruised up and a wee bit swollen. I was trying to cut corners too quickly and trippin over people's sticks and stuff. Or trying to steal the puck from T-man and totall running him down. At least I wasn't the only one falling. Mayssan had a hard time with the hockey skates, I'm sure her knees are just as bruised as mine!

Watch out now! Erin on the ice at the park.

Erinne on the ice at the park!

T-man lovin' his song selections and Ben gettin' busy with the turntables.

I really don't know what I was doing here, but I feel really cool doing it!

T-man and I chillin' beside the dryer in rinkhouse.

Erinne and Mayssan takin a break from bustin' some serious moves.

Thumbs up for having planned this conversation with T-man!

The thigh dance, Erinne is a huge fan of it. I ONLY do it for her. It's not my dance, it never has been but many drunken whores at the social would definitly claim it to be theirs!

What? You don't know the thigh dance? Follow these two simple steps!

Step 1: place your hands on your thighs. Step two: shake your shoulders and ass while rubbing your hands up and down your thighs don't forget the ooooo face!

We're gettin' our grove on in Mayssan's basement!



Just showin a little love!

Erinne's got what it takes to be a dj! She can rock the head phones 'like a mother F***ing riot!

Back at the park, everyone's lookin' a little rough at this point!

Dishsoap memories!

While reading Erinne's most recent blog post it got me to thinking, it's amazing how scents can bring back long lost memories. These type of situations happen to me all the time. Funny thing is if i sit and try to remember what it felt like to be 21 (for example)or if I try to remember what I was like at 21 or what I was up to at 21, I have very vague memories. I sometimes try to think back to when I was 18 and I got my very first apartment with my boyfriend Geoff, I have very few memories of that year. I don't remember what it felt like living there, or what I did on a daily basis, maybe I'm trying to think about too many details. I don't know.
I'm going nowhere with this, but my point is, sometimes it just takes a scent or a song to bring back all of these memories that I can never think of no matter how hard I try.

Here is Erinne's post:

I don't think that I have ever read a book of poetry in my life. I can see how other people dig it, but, I have never been particularly struck by anything except music lyrics. Of all things, I was reading Glamour magazine when I came across this wee poem (and I cannot WAIT to go out and by both of the poet's books):

The Past Is Still There by Deborah Garrison

I've forgotten so much.
What it felt like back then,
what we said to each other.

But sometimes when I'm standing
at the kitchen counter after dinner
and I look out the window at the dark

thinking of nothing,
something swims up.
Tonight this:

your laughing into my mouth
as you were trying
to kiss me.

The above work is included in Deborah Garrison's newest publication The Second Child.

And this is my reply to her post:

Fuckin' wicked e. I have these bizarre moments myself.
If only I could write them down like she did.
I recently bought this dish soap and as I did my dishes for the first time with the new soap, it brought me back to my apartment with my ex Jeremy, the scent reminded me of us, washing dishes together.
It was quite the memory. It's amazing how a scent can kick you back to 6 years ago.
The next day I brought the soap to work, so I wouldn't have to be reminded of him....

I salute you!

Oh wait, no I don't!

Kate is hilarious. We basically have the same type of personality! The difference? She's a mom AND she's in the military, didn't see that coming : )

So today we were chatting about how it's funny that she's in the military (Image Tech.) and just some silly thing about being in the military such as marching and saluting. Lame!!! This is what she had to say about saluting:

"Saluting? hate it! If I am in a parking lot I always try to fill my arms with something so I don't have to salute"

I laughed forever, I could totally see her doing that!

You stick around now!!!

Ok, Ok last one....It's just wicked cause now I can just visit my blog and watch all sorts of cool video's.

I don't know why, nobody told you!

Still, my guitar gently weeps!

For you Jay-me-dee, gotta love Clapton's guitar faces!

Jin vs. Predator!

Jin, no not the shit you drink, the boy. My best friend Kate has a 6 year old prince named Jin (her son, p.s.) who is the coolest kid on the block, not just his block, but any kid block that has ever existed. This kid rocks, he loves the Ramones, loves the Misfits, calls Tori Amos, "Tori Anus" (sweet i hate her) and makes sure that his mom kisses and tucks his "baby Predator" into bed at night. YES I'm talking about THAT predator, he has a toy predator that he sleeps with at night.

The barfing Ref.

I completely forgot to mention this to ANYONE, so I figured I should blog about it. So I'm leaving the dressing room at the rink the other night and I'm walking down the side of the rink when all of a sudden a ref. from a hockey game in progress runs off hte ice and power pukes right in front of me. Like projectile vomit. Half of it sprayed in front of him and then he made it to the garbage can. I can't help but wonder, did he feel like shit before he got on the ice or was this just some random thing that just 'came up' : ) tee hee hee! Poor guy. SICK!