Tetris, How I Love To Hate You!

Tetris is the devil.

I have a love hate relationship with the game Tetris.  On one hand, it satisfies my need to play video games, but on the other hand, it frustrates my OCD when I have Tetris pieces that just don't cooperate.  See, I can't just have random gaps all over the place.  When I'm constructing my Tetris pieces, I try to go for optimal 4 line elimination by organizing my pieces in a nicely shaped block, and praying to the Tetris gods that the long 4 block straight piece is going to come down, fall into place and leave me with a clean slate to start over again.  Does that happen? No.  I'm stuck trying to place this T like piece somewhere on the screen so it fits nicely and pray that the piece that comes after that is the piece that I'm looking for.  Well, shit.  I get a cube.  At this point, my OCD is about to go into overdrive, and I start to lose my shit.  The Tetris gods do indeed hate me.  BUT, I keep playing, organizing my pieces so they look  nice and tidy, and once again I find myself waiting for the prize piece.  Waiting, waiting...and DAMMIT!, it happens again.  Another piece that I didn't ask for, this time, it's the stupid S piece.  What the hell is that? Now I'm starting to get mad.  I am two more pieces away from launching my controller over my balcony and into the snow bank below.  Come on optimal straight piece, mama needs to clear the screen....come on, pretty please.  After praying, raging and almost having a breakdown, the Tetris gods shine down, give me the piece I need and WHAM!  just like that, four lines cleared, and I have breathing room once more. Now I can blink again.

I'm guessing that the people that designed this game either have a sick sense of humour, or they like messing with people who have the need to be in control or live with OCD.  They are both clever and cruel bastards.  Yet, I still love the game. I have ever since I was a kid and had it on my Nintendo system.  I also played it on my GameBoy as well...so much so that I spent most of my allowance on batteries, and I would have dreams of the Tetris pieces falling sweetly into place, and not once topping out during my game.  And now, as an adult, I play it online, and on the PlayStation.  It taunts me.  It's almost a compulsion these days.  When working on my computer, it's only one click away and I can get my fix. I need help.  I have to wonder if there's anyone else out there that has this same relationship with Tetris that I do.  Anyone? Please, for the love of god, don't tell me that I'm the only one.

Satan Claus, Santa Claus, I'm Sure There Are A Lot Of Confused Dyslexic Children Out There!

"HEY! IT'S SATAN CLAUS!"

It's really not a far fetched concept to confuse the two of them.  I mean, if you grew up believing in the theory of God/Satan and also believing in Santa Claus, it's totally possible that if you're a dyslexic child, you could confuse the two.  Lets look at the similarities, shall we?  Both wear red, both have an awareness of your behaviour, and if you misbehave, you suffer the consequences-at Christmas, if you have been a bad boy or girl, Santa leaves coal in your Christmas stocking, and if you believe in the God/Satan arrangement, if you misbehave or do something wrong, you're going to go straight to hell.  Although, for some, being condemned to a warm climate for all eternity might not be a bad thing.  Being sent to a cold climate for all eternity with a fat man in a red suit might be a more fitting punishment.  

As a lapsed and sometimes quite confused Catholic, I really don't see much difference between the two.  These days, I'm all about which would be more fun in the end.  At Christmas, assuming that I have behaved fairly decently over the past 365 days, and barring me calling someone a douchewad to their face or just being a downright miserable bitch, I just might get that Lego set that I've been eyeing for the last year or so (yes, I'm 30ish and still want Lego bricks...get over it!).  But this is an annual routine that could go on for decades. That's a lot of good behaviour for Lego bricks and other various toys that I might add to my wish list.  I live in an apartment. I don't know if I have that much room for storage.  I think I'm going for the big eternal damnation, and I'll tell you why.

Growing up as a Catholic, I learned right from wrong, learned to be a good girl and behave and live a "right life".  Well, that lasted all of maybe 18/19 years, and then I went to college.  It was at this point that I realized that a lot of the fun stuff that I enjoyed doing in life didn't exactly fall into the category of good Catholic life behaviour: sex before marriage, alcohol (tasty, tasty alcohol), and general debauchery that makes for a good story once I'm on the other side of the turf.  I have been known to do and say things that would (and did) make most people shake their heads, and some people say that I'm going to go straight to hell (I'm guessing that they believe in God, or have never known the awesomeness of alcohol-induced debauchery like I have).  I'm oddly okay with that, even if I am a pasty girl who burns after 5 minutes in the sun.  According to my friends, I will be on the 7th level of hell, and I'm in charge of bringing sunscreen for those fair skinned friends that will be joining me in the after life.  Now, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me.  I'm actually a pretty well behaved person for the most part, but I do enjoy partaking in activities that would make a priest blush at confession if I went a month or two without confessing all of my sins.  Truthfully, just thinking about it makes my knees hurt, but that's neither here nor there.

I don't know why they couldn't have two setups at the mall.  One display for Santa Claus, where all the non-dyslexic boys and girls go to request their reward toys for Christmas, and a display with someone dressed up as Satan for the rest of us.  If I had to hazard a guess, that lineup will be far longer than the one for the jolly old fat man, and, instead of a candy cane and a picture of a crying child, you would be getting a shot of JD, and a picture of a beaming boy or girl who knows that they'll be the truly lucky ones in the end.  

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Adult Moments, Too Much Coffee, And Too Much Alcohol (Yes, there is such a thing!)

I over think things

I drink too much caffeine

I (used to) drink too much alcohol

Are these all signs that I'm turning into a responsible adult? Dear god I hope not.  There are too few things I have left in my life that bring me back to being an irresponsible adolescent.  Tang, Oreo cookies, and giggle snorting at anything that could have a double entendre are the few that come to mind.  But, I have to wonder if being an adult can bring its own brand of fun time shenanigans.  For example: adult jello would fall into this category, or perhaps instead of eating Oreo cookies as a snack, they could be eaten as a meal. Or, if you want to get really out there, going to a strip club/bar replaces going to the amusement park or fall fairs. It is such a depressing thought to think that my irresponsible days are behind me now that I'm in my 30s, have a full time job, and have bills to pay.  I'm trying to rally against it, and so far, it has made for some interesting fun times.  

Turning into a barfly in my late 20s/early 30s made for many an interesting story (well, the ones that I can remember, mind you).  Sundays were deemed recovery day Sundays to heal the soul (and liver) from the night before. Too much tequila, too much rum (delicious, delicious rum), and too many imitations of Elaine Benes Christmas party dances made for interesting Saturday nights with the bestie.  However, our watering hole has since closed, and we now have Sundays as designated road trip days, which have proven to be far more entertaining, less expensive, and a little healthier on the system, provided we don't go past a Picards Peanuts along the way.  

Now, you're probably wondering where the irresponsible part comes in.  Well, it's not so much of an irresponsible arrangement these days, more along the lines of  we do it because we can, and we wanted to...I might be stretching to reach back to being an irresponsible adult, but hey, I've only had two cups of tea today, so it's the best I have for now :-P I would love to recount some of the conversations that were had on a few of our road trips, but since they're almost like therapy sessions, I'm really not at liberty to say.  What I can say is that the conversation never strays too far from the gutter. For two outwardly sweet and innocent looking Catholic girls, we'd make even the most liberal priest blush, and we'd probably spend many hours down on our knees...begging for forgiveness. (what were you thinking? LOL).  We have also had a number of girly weekends which have never been short of being epic. Strip clubs, random encounters with paranoid Torontonians, spur of the moment tattoos, and many laughs along the way have made for some very interesting "Dear Diary" moments that might put that 50 Shades of Grey to shame.

But, now that we're at that "been there, done that" stage, we're looking for some more interesting things to do with our time.  If you've seen one strip club, you've seen them all, and frankly, these days, there are only two men that I want to see naked, and I highly doubt that George Clooney is available for private shows, and the other person knows who he is ;)

Time to stop over thinking things...time for more caffeine, and time to just go with the damn flow with less emphasis on living to work and more emphasis on working to live. 

Now, where are my Oreos?

Farm Animals, Drunk Kittens And Freaked Out Mennonites!

I think if you look up the definition of random, you just might find my picture alongside the definition.  I'm making the dictionary look sexy, y'all.

Trying to have an in-depth conversation with me, can, at times, be just as frustrating as herding drunk kittens.  Very rarely can a conversation topic or person hold my interest long enough that I develop some sort of interest in either.  Off the top of my head, there are a few people that fall into the talented cat herding category.  I like to think it's because they're just damn awesome people who understand and can appreciate my lack of inner monologue, and my 15 second attention span (okay, I'm sure it's much longer than that, but hey, I never seem to have a stop watch to measure out these sorts of things).  

The one person that sees my randomness the most would be my best friend Trish.  I love this woman (in a non-lesbian, friendship, platonic sort of way).  I'm not quite sure if she's ever surprised by the stuff that comes out of my mouth, but I do catch her off guard from time to time.  Our weekly road trips provide us with hours of entertainment possibilities.  Driving through the back roads of Southwestern Ontario has provided many a "oh look over there" moments.  You can say that I am easily distracted by farm animals that may be on the side of the road "ooh, look, cows" or "ooh, sheep!" is mentioned at least once on every trip.  I still want to drive up to a farmer's house and ask them if I can go out to their pasture and frolic with their livestock.  I think doing this might make even the nicest Mennonite family angry, worried, or just downright concerned for their safety.  But not Trish.  She thinks that it would be "hilarious as fuck" to do (her words, not mine).  Besides, even if we did do that, what's worst thing that could happen?  We run back to the truck and floor it off their property.  They wouldn't even have the horse hitched up to the buggy by the time we made it down the highway.

I wonder if there's a market for a miniature animal petting zoo for little people...I mean, if you had Shetland ponies, miniature cows, teacup pigs, Pigmy goats and sheep on your farm/petting zoo, would it seem less threatening to little people that the animals aren't quite twice the size of them and less likely to trample them to death if the cow or horse goes all apeshit?  I think I've got to look into this.  This could possibly be a most interesting attraction somewhere in the states...but not as interesting as a cheese and taxidermy shop all rolled into one (yes, this place does exist.  Can you just imagine? Squirrel and stilton or, perhaps a beaver and brie? Maybe a capybara and some cheddar?)  

This is the randomness that keeps me up at night...needless to say, I have some pretty damn interesting dreams.

I'll write again soon!

An Introduction

Hello.  My name is Christine, and I suffer/enjoy/live with "ooh, bright shiny/hey there's a squirrel" syndrome.

Some may call it ADHD/ADD, but since I haven't officially been diagnosed, and I'm not quite intelligent to go all Dr. Phil on myself just yet (a few more episodes and I MIGHT be qualified), I'm going with bright shiny/hey there's a squirrel syndrome.

It's not such a terrible thing to have,really.  Hell, even I surprise myself with the things that come out of my mouth sometimes.  Perhaps I should be rented out for parties-far more entertaining than a stripper, less expensive, and I guarantee that if you were to laugh at what I say, it won't get you a slap upside the head...which is what I predict would happen to you if you were to laugh at a stripper and her less than smooth dancing skills (hey, maybe she's dancing to make money to go to dance school? Who knows).  

At any rate, I sometimes find my brain going 105 miles a minute, and my thought process is all over the darn place.  So what better idea than to put it to paper/blog?  It'll read like IKEA instructions, without the fancy furniture, but with a few loose screws at the end of it all. And, much like the process of assembling IKEA furniture, it will be entertaining.  


I hope you enjoy...or, at the very least get a good chuckle.  Buckle up, and enjoy the ride!