"Girls are taking over!"

I stumbled on this article today and am truly excited over this revelation:

"Society's pressures have created a new ideal female. Nerdiness -- caring about school -- is now mandatory for the cool female, along with the typical desired traits of attractiveness and sociability. Instead of the movies' airhead cheerleader as the popular campus queen, in the modern day, the admired female is smart, concerned about school and active in achieving her success."

Fellow Nerd Girls Kick Ass!

BLIND DATE

I started my new job last week with such anxiety and trepidation.

Why, you ask? Not usually my style, you say.

Not to worry, it wasn’t the: Can’t Sleep at Night Tossing and Turning, Anx-Trepid variety, it was more like the: Butterflies in Stomach Blind Date, kind. You know the one I’m talking about, the one with the unrelenting questions swirling around your head: What’s he going to look like? Am I going to get along with him? Will this be fun?

Well…

“He” looks good, all stylish and glossy with lots of money to throw around. No more scrimpy and saving for essentials. Whatever my little heart desires to make me comfortable, he provides. He’s attractive and alluring… he’s got all the right people working for him… high caliber specialists, they are. I read his script… it was sweet and tender. He’s got talent.

He promises to put my name up in lights for all my efforts and dedication (or at least rolling credits on the big screen). How courteous. I think I’ll get along with him just fine.

And the fun bit? I intend to have fun. I’ve put in a lot of hard work and long hours on this date, but he’s made it real easy by surrounding me with interesting and lighthearted people (all but one... who was sent by SATAN). Yes, I do believe this date is headed towards Fun City.

OH...HOW NICE.

Day 2 of my new job and I received some rather newsworthy information... I am working on a movie starring Ryan Gosling.

The thirty-one year old me replied, "Oh... how nice." The twelve year old me, was hollering, dancing and jumping around for hours.

SAY GOODNIGHT SADIE

Good Night Sadie.

It's a wrap on our third and final season of "Naturally Sadie". To all the people whom I have had the privilege of getting to know while working on the series: I will miss you.

Deep sigh... I get completely melancholic when confronted with an ending... but on the UPSIDE (a cheerful, boisterous and inebriated upside), a few pictures from our wrap party:

By the end of the night my body was entirely made of vodka. Mmm...GOOD TIMES!

DANGER:SHARKS IN MIAMI

During the past several seasons the Florida gulf began to emit a distinctive fishy odor. This smell is due to the unusual number of sharks circling the Miami waters. Is this shark activity in Miami really that unusual, you ask? Well, no. Not if a particular Miami television series has been rigorously preparing to jump the shark.

For a while now, CSI: Miami has been on the verge of shark jumping, with its unnatural characters (Horatio Caine, Eric Delko, Ryan Wolfe), unintelligent dialogue (Horatio Caine: Justice is not yours to dispense, and now you're going to pay for it), and unconvincing plotline: (is it plausible for a gorgeous girl like Marisol Delko to marry an emotionless, gingered hair, know-it-all like Horatio Caine).

Well last Monday, the show finally took the plunge with its fifth season premier episode. BIG SHARK JUMP! Commencing with a ill-plotted Brazilian storyline (to show off the show's access to foreign locales and visual treatment).

The show is beyond stylized. The colors are over-saturated and artificial, causing distracting visuals and unnatural skin texture (re: close ups of Horatio Caine’s cringe worthy face). The over use of slow motion, CSI: Miami is plagued by the irritating and ineffective use of this film technique (slow motion should be used to highlight important moments, not to highlight Horatio Caine’s facial mobility). The obtuse and unnecessary use of split screen, rupturing any illusion of reality. (CSI MIAMI is a police procedural series about forensic scientists, isn’t REALITY an important element to the show?)

But the biggest shark jump on CSI: Miami is by far the serie's emphasis on Horatio Caine (David Caruso). He is one of the most uncharismatic characters in primetime television. He has an abnormal need to wear sunglasses indoors, and a compulsive urge to rip them off and awkwardly pose mid sentence. (Blame the director) The character also imparts an incredibly uncomfortable stance with added neck bend to accentuate his laughable dialogue. (Blame the actor) Dialogue that is purely composed of clichés and bad expositions, the info-dump uttered by Horatio Caine to his subordinates is insulting. (Blame the writers) One would think that to work in a forensic lab, of the show’s caliber, one would know a little something about the crime and procedure. Apparently not!

These jump-the-shark elements have finally convince me that the show has fundamentally and permanently strayed from its original crime fighting allure. It is a desperate and futile attempt to keep viewers like me from the drifting towards more innovative and intelligent shows competing for my attention.

NOTE: To my faithful reader who do not watch CSI:MIAMI, be thankful.

PALMAE

I am daydreaming, as images from my screensaver flash before my eyes, tropical island vistas.

I look at a palm tree and feel strangely at home, strange because I've lived in Canada since I was 4yrs and 11 months old.


My last Palmae visit was in November 2005, with my lovely co-workers.


I’m jonesing for another trip.

I WEEP

There are events in history that are so frightfully horrifying that they have a way of stopping time. When asked five years later, what you were doing the morning of September 11, 2001, you can respond without hesitation. Most of us can’t remember what we had for breakfast yesterday, but we can remember exactly what we were doing five years ago on that date. It was early on a sunny Tuesday, I was in the CBC building, downtown Toronto, with resume in hand looking for my first big break in the film and television industry, before long, my career was the furthest thought on my mind.

Heavy Heart.

In May, David and I were in New York. Our experience at Ground Zero was overwhelming. We stood staring in silence, overcome by the sorrow that seeped into the very marrow of our being.

Laboured Breath.

I wish I could capture in words the significance of visiting ground zero, or articulate the emotions that ground zero evokes, but I cannot.

Inarticulate Speech.

In place of words, there were tears. I wept. I wept at the sight of every name I read on the memorial wall. I wept at the sight of the gaping hole, where the Towers once stood triumphantly. I wept at the sight of the cross that stands defiantly at ground zero.

Sustained Hope.


I am not a follower of Christianity, but I do believe this cross transcend religious confines. It is a symbol of hope, guiding us ALL through times of such devastation. It is not about being Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, or Buddhist; it is about being Human, and respecting the life of our fellow Human beings. It is about peace.

World Peace.

SAY IT ISN'T SO

Dear Fans of Laguna Beach and The Hills,

I have sad news to report. It looks as though our favorite couple are calling it quits. Raise your hands if you are just as stunned as I am.... What? No hand raising? Hmmm.

Please click :Lauren & Jason to hear our most beloved boy explain what happened.

P.S. Laguna Beach 3 will begin airing this Wednesday on MTV Canada. New Cast, New Year, New Drama!

THAT TIME OF YEAR

It’s the final hours of the Labour Day weekend… Autumn is on the horizon. I woke up this morning, cocooned in my quilt, protecting myself from the AM chill. It’s amazing how quickly fall is ushered upon us, all the other seasons timidly seep into being, but fall attacks with a great vengeance. Over night trees are literally,turning over a new leaf.

I welcome Fall with a mixed bag of emotions. I love the crispness in the air, the canopy of crimson and golden foliage, and the crunch of fallen leaves. How can anyone not love the bright pigmented leaves on the trees, after all we are living in a country famous for our fall foliage. Aside from this spectacle of colour, what I love most about autumn is the impending fall season’s new prime time line-up. I adore the unveiling of all the new TV shows and of course, the return of my old favorites. (Let’s have a moment of silence for the cancelled comedy, Arrested Development… heavy hearted, Sigh.) But I digress, I will blog about my addiction at a later date, let’s get back to the subject at hand: my mixed bag of emotions.

Fall not only brings me joy, but it also brings me heartache... for I am a Football Widow. That’s right folks, this loving marriage, comes to a screeching halt with the return of Football season. No more Sunday promenades through sun drenched streets, holding hands, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes. No more picnicking under a grand oak tree, with him reciting Byron and Keats. (The preceding events may be slightly exaggerated; anyhow, a bit of hyperbole can’t hurt to prove a point) It’s all been replaced with excursion through electronic hallways, with him looking lovingly into a big screen TV and dining under the dimly lit roof of a sports bar, with him reciting sports stats and team chants.

Who’s number 1? Who cares?

In addition to being snubbed for a stupid game, I have to endure sports chat, pro-line betting, fantasy football leagues and worst of all, football games on the X-Box. His passion for anything football related is quite overwhelming, but his affection doesn’t stop with Pro-football, it also heats up for college ball as well.

I hate “Da Bears” and I hate the “Canes”. They have hijacked my husband.

I AM NOT A STUPID WOMAN, I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND FOOTBALL. I don’t understand the rules and I don’t understand the excitement over the game. YES, It’s just a game! On many occasion I have been coached on the conduct of the sport. I have even read 'Football for Dummies'. But somehow, all of the reading and lectures gets lost in translation. This is what I hear: blah, blah, boring, blah. This is what I read: @(*$)@#%! @#& @(&^#(*$.

What’s the point of watching a bunch of beefy men chasing after an oblong ball and then piling on top of each other? “Oh Hot!”, you say? What’s hot about spitting, black patches under the eyes (women spend loads of cash to avoid this problem) and football tights? You can’t even see if the players are good-looking, they are all hidden behind such concealing helmets.

The only good thing about football is the Super Bowl. Two things I love about Super Bowl: the million dollar commercials that air (click here to see the best commercials ever!) and the end of football season.

But for now I must endure a full season of football. I have to suppress the feelings of loneliness and the sense of betrayal. I need to fight back the tears that comes with football widowhood. I will present my bravest face to the world.

The NFL season kicks off on Thursday, September 7. (Tear)