Ugg-ly, I fell in love, Why writing programs suck, Dance-mania

Day 23

What the hell is going on with Ugg boots? I thought they were sooo two years ago. Are things going out of fashion and coming back into fashion at a more rapid pace than usual. If that's the case then my flare jeans should be safe to wear (I wear 'em anyway). I always dreamed Canada was the land of beautiful winters (not true, all rain), gorgeous trees (true, but you don't even notice them after you've been here a few hours), nice people (true, if you actually believe they are sorry every two minutes otherwise they seem like jerks), but never did I think it would be the land of outdated fashion. Jesus, it's not like we're in Utah here, there are major urban areas filled with expensive trendy shit from fashion designers all over the world. I guess there are people here who dress in a trendy and timely fashion, until you look at their feet. It's bad enough that they wear Uggs still but would it be too much to ask that they at least wear a pair that remotely matches their outfit (brown Uggs DO NOT go with an all black outfit, seriously).

On a lighter note today I fell in love. Oh, it was one of those typical situations where it happens when you least expect it. Here I was cleaning my room (translation: doing everything I could to avoid writing) and it happened...I'm in love with the vaccum cleaner. Seriously, I have lived in old shitty buildings for the past six years that had hardwood floors. Although there was one exception, I did live in a room with carpet, but I was never sober enough to vaccum it's floor. Before you go sending the loony wagon my way here me out, it wasn't just any vaccum it was one of those ones that look like a Pac Man ghost AND have a long hose (that looks like an elephants trunk) AND a huge wand. That baby and I danced all over the floor leaving it better for our being their, and each of us unable to accomplish this effect without each other. What more could you ask for?

Writing programs suck because you have to read other writers. It should be a growing experience (and, it may turn into one) but in reading other writers you realize two things 1. How much your own writing stinks and 2. That you'd better figure out a way to be clever enough to at least fake being as good as your peers. All of this might be able to be achieved if you don't spend all of your time serenading your household helper. Shit, I could just give up...but then I would move away and my vaccum would have to stay. I guess I'll just learn how to fake it. Maybe if I fake it long enough other people will start believing it and it'll come to me. (Nah)

The good news about living where I do is that not only do we have a vaccum cleaner we have a film buff (translation: really strange dude who sings along to the movie soundtrack while the movie is playing) who comes over with his projector and blue ray discs. The only bad part is you have to hear him say the words, "High Def", a lot. Tonight's movie was a bonus one in memory of Patrick Swayze. Of course, it was Dirty Dancing. I had never seen the film in it's entirety before and let me just state this in writing, Patrick Swayze (in that film) was the hottest guy with a bad haircut and high rise pants that I've ever seen. The way that guy could move. I think I'll quit faking this writing thing and start dancing there has got to be another Patrick Swayze out there (maybe his archetype is back in style, wearing Ugg boots AHH!).

Note: As you may have noticed (that's taking for granted anyone at all reads this garbage) that it says Day 23 instead of Day 22, turns out I had two 17's. What can I say? I'm totally tanked up...all the time. But, if you read that you probably take that for granted.