I recently shared a secret former crush with Brianna. Here is the result:

Brianna: Really? You had a crush on Boy1? Cause he's funny?

me: 80% funny, 20% hot body. God, his arms?

Brianna: But... you claim to have seriously high looks standards

me: I do! What's wrong with him?

Brianna: He's not cute, Lisa

me: Bad teeth, fine, but cute brown eyes

Brianna: Really bad glasses

me: Ironic glasses!

Brianna: Yeah, not working. Irony is for things you don't wear everyday

me: And remember when he would wear his hot glasses instead? HOT.

Brianna: ok, the other glasses are an improvement but not a jettison into hot

me: BOY2 wears ugly glasses too....

me: Do I have a penchant for poorly spectacled boys?

Brianna: Maybe you have a bad glasses fetish

Brianna: You should find an online community devoted to that

me: Or make one on ning

Brianna: There is already a community for every fetish possible

me: Okay, I'll find one and join

Brianna: good girl

Okay I'm not AGAINST dancing? But man, do I get really worked up watching a dance floor.

I haven't been to "a dance" since grade eight. Those were great fun! We weren't old enough to realize that standing in a circle of 13 people, bobbing our heads and shifting our feet was pretty lame. We'd wave to each other from across the circle. We'd cheer when the Macarena came on. Those dances also provided occasion for more physical contact with my secret crush than I could ever hope for elsewhere

Clear memory of a Brian McKnight song. (One, you're like a dream come truuue. Two, just want to be with youuu) My hands on his shoulders. Rigid wrists. His hands on my hips. Not too near my bum, but definitely not too high. Plenty of room for the Holy Spirit, I'll tell you that much.

I went to an all girls high school, so suffice it to say our dances were pretty lame. The movies always depict the girls' school meeting up with the boys' school for dances. We all apply excess mascara on the school bus ride over to their gym while giggling and wishing aloud that Harvey Hampton the Hunk would ask us to dance the twist. Debbie is mad at Nancy for copying her new bob, we all know that Bernard is TOTALLY going to spike the punch! Oh, also, we draw lines on our legs to make it look like we're wearing nylon stockings. And in the back seat, naive tenth grader Betty asks school skank Sally what it's like to be in love with a man.

Yeah, that doesn't actually happen.

The dancers at our dances (or so I hear) consisted of a bunch of frosh who hadn't realized what they were getting into, the people on student council and any of their friends that they could drag, and really pervy/creepy guys who are probably three years older than the average twelfth grader.

Now, I love dancing. But it is SO rare to find an environment that I feel comfortable to dance in. Such environments include: my kitchen, improv camp, square dances.

Improv camp was the best. One time in a workshop we all had to just do our "kitchen dance". Then we had to copy each other's kitchen dance. It was out of this world! Try to get somebody to genuinely show you their kitchen dance. The dance they rock out to when they put the radio on while they do dishes. Lots of people have never shown anybody their kitchen dance!

But if you walk into your local bar, all you see is a sweaty crowd moving in the exact same way. I mean, there are hundreds of thousands of ways that the human body can move to a rhythm. But everybody shares the same 5 moves, all of which connote actions that I assure you our naive tenth grader Betty knows nothing about.

My favourite dance floor dynamics are when the dancing is just starting. Here's how it happens EVERY TIME. A bunch of girls (half of whom are inexplicably wearing cowboy hats) take to the floor. They stand really close to each other, taking turns being the centre of attention. If any one of them does something weird, like a move that isn't in the handbook titled "The Only 5 Dance Moves You Should Ever Do" they all stop dancing for a second and laugh it off, like "omigod imagine if I did that for real????!!!!"

Then the guys come. In twos, sporting smirks. They join the crowd like "oh fine! oh fine because you asked!". They do a lot of sprinkler or shopping-cart type moves in a "omigod, imagine if this was actually in my dance move repertoire?!". Then they go grind somebody up in a "this is fun! But I'm totally not That Guy. We're just dancing, right?". Then they steal the girls' hats and wear them because that's the most hilarious thing I can think of.

I think the guys bother me more than the girls.

I don't know, I think I'm becoming lamer and lamer these days. Unless a really close friend comes too, I hate even going to bars. I've only been of legal drinking age for a year and a half! But there are seriously so many better ways that I'd like to spend my time.

Do you hate dancing too? Then tell me I'm not alone.

Do you love dancing? Freak. Also, why? Help me understand the appeal of everybody bobbing around judging each other.

In engineering, the girls are scarce.

Mechanical engineering is down. Way down. Once at a booming 15% female population (1996 first year population), our numbers have dwindled to 6% (2006 first year stats). You know things are bad when even the computer engineers have more girls.

My class has six girls. Though, not going to lie, we're a pretty normal bunch (no unibrows, fairly fashionable attire, neutral or agreeable scent) I guess we've become old hat. My salad days of enjoying a near monopoly on the guys in my class seem to be over. I was recently described as "one of the guys" which I took offense for a second until I realized the veracity of the statement.

We got about 8-10 new guys in the class- those who failed out last year and have been given another chance by being allowed to join my class. Now who fails 2B? The dumb ones all fail out in first year, so if you make it to 2B you've got smarts. You can really only fail if you party too much to study. And if you party too much you're probably decently good looking or at least fun to hang around with. But did these 8-10 probably good looking definitely fun guys sitting in the back of the class capture my attention? Negative.

WE GOT A NEW GIRL YESTERDAY. She entered with a guy and sat in the third row. The class erupted in whispers. Now I personally thought she looked a little skankalicious but that distaste was ebbed away by the fact that we have A NEW GIRL!! Pretty much everybody was starring at her. My friend Mike pointed out that I was more interested in the new girl than any of the American Eagle boys in the back row... and that's when I realized I might as well be labeled "one of the guys" for all the inter-class dating I am interested in. Anyway, The Girl then she checked her time table (frosh, since clearly nobody other than first years carry around a print out) and embarrassingly got up and left with the guy she came in with. That's right, she was in the wrong class.

One of my class makes stood up out of his chair and shook both fists disparagingly towards the heavens.

We all returned to the hum drum of thermodynamics or whatever with a collective sigh. BUT then today we got ANOTHER GIRL! And she doesn't look skankalicious! In fact, she looks like a potential candidate to fulfill the "Lisa's friend that is a girl and lives in Waterloo and isn't graduating this spring" role! The fist waggler from yesterday confirmed that indeed, she was looking for ME 222 (I guess he didn't want to open his heart too soon this time). She is! Alrighhhht! New girls!

As always, cross posted at lfar.ca

Back in the old days when I used to live in New York (i.e., last week) the biggest thing I missed about Southern Ontario was grocery stores. I believe this post(http://randomaccessbabble.com/2007/02/on-inadequacy-of-new-york-city-grocery.html) by Brianna shouts out enough to all the wonder of aisles wide enough for 3 carts, and piles of apples so large you wonder if the ones at the bottom ever get bought. I miss that decadence.

Everybody always says its soooo expensive to live in New York. My thoughts on that were always that yeah, rent is rather steep, but, settle down.

I just got back from grocery shopping. My first grocery shopping trip since returning to Waterloo.

HOLY COW.

EVERYTHING WAS SO CHEAP. Right at the front were peaches for a really good price so I was filling a bag with them until I noticed royal gala apples at 79 cents a lb (I've been paying like 1.50 all summer) so I start stocking my cart with them until I notice broccoli is only 75cents (instead of the 1.99 of NY). My eyes are now darting all over the place. Then I catch sight of the red peppers. 67 cents per lb! I've raaaarely seen them for under 2.49. That is 3.7 times more. I could buy almost 4 for the price of 1 in New York!

As I gaped at these savings, I suddenly realized I was the only one with such excitement. I wanted to tap the nearest person in the produce section and say "EXCUSE ME I NOTICED YOU HAVEN'T FILLED EIGHT CARTS WITH RED PEPPERS. IS THIS BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED HOW CHEAP THEY ARE? BECAUSE SERIOUSLY!"

And that was just produce. I started getting light headed in the cereal aisle. Luckily the price of milk kept me grounded. How could it be more expensive? OH because different volumes! Quarts vs Litres! We win after all! AND HELLO LOOK AT FROZEN ENTRES! THESE ARE SO CHEAP I WILL BUY YOU ONE. MISS, YOO HOO, YEAH, YOU, I WOULD LIKE TO PURCHASE THESE FOR YOU SINCE YOU SEEM NOT TO NOTICE THEM OR SOMETHING. BECAUSE IT IS INCONCEIVABLE THAT YOU WOULD SEE THIS PRICE AND WALK ON BY.

However. I then spent like fifty dollars and had to bike back. Rats. Next time- when I have a car. You better watch out! I'll buy enough to ship out to all my New York friends! Because holy cow!

(An older post from lfar.ca)

So I've moved, recently. (As in, yesterday).

I was starving and I decided to make some tortellini for dinner. The noodles are boiling and I go to look for a spoon to stir them. NO SPOONS. NO UTENSILS. Seriously. I checked every drawer and cupboard. Many times- I probably circled the kitchen 4 or 5 times, just not believing that there aren't any utensils. Guys, I even checked the oven because maybe they keep them there? Then I realized there weren't any bowls, either. There were 2 small plates, 8 wine glasses, and 5 shot glasses. And a colander. That is the exact opposite of "just the basics"!

"Welcome to my fancy dinner party. Have some wine. Have two glasses of wine- one for each hand. I've baked us some delicious insert fancy food that requires straining that we can eat from the pot with our fingers. Then do shots." Really- what the heck.

So using the butter knife I found, I both prepared and ate my dinner. I then divulged in two of my guilty pleasures.

First I watched Bridget Jones' Diary. The girl I'm subletting from left all her movies behind and theres a couple of good ones that I can't wait to crack into. I ate ice cream from the tub with a butter knife, and was woo-ed by Mr Darcy along with Bridget once again.

Guilty Pleasure #1: Anything Pride and Prejudice

I then walked to the local grocery store to buy cleaning supplies. My apartment smells a little bit and even though I have my nicely scented vanilla candle to mask any odor, I decided its probably a better idea to get down to the bottom of this and find the smell source. I spent about $30 on cleaning supplies including these awesome disposable scrub cloth things. A+. One thing of note is when choosing between scents, I chose "raspberry" over "scent: antiseptic" even though it was 20cents more for the same volume.

Guilty Pleasure #2: Buying things I know my mother would never ever buy.

Yes, its true. My mom would never buy "good brand" cleaning supplies. My Saturday morning chore was cleaning the bathrooms and oh boy what I would have given for a non bleach cleaner (sometimes my nail beds would start to bleed). And how joyous would it have been not to use regular scented VIM (and smell like that for a couple of days. sniff who smells like a slightly abrasive but will not scratch cleanser? Oh, probably Lisa again).

There were also "after dinner chores" at my house. The oldest kid living at home did dishes, the 2nd did pots, the 3rd cleared and washed the table, and the 4th swept. Now because I'm fourth, I was sweeping from the age of "able to sweep" until my oldest brother moved out, which was went I was what, 13 or so? So I've probably got 10 years of sweeping under my belt. I am a good sweeper. Now- before I bash my mom's frugality too much, I SHOULD mention that one time she bought me an electric vacuum broom. Literally called the Eureka 3000. It was a Christmas gift in grade two. I RECEIVED A BROOM FROM SANTA. Maybe this will help you understand why I get such pleasure from spending money on things like name brand ziploc bags and paper towel that actually dries things.

Well, so today I had planned to take a visit some sort of "bed bath and beyond" store to stock my apartment with supplies. Because though I won't often admit it- I like looking at linens, candle stick sets, and frames. Really, I do. However, this morning as I wiped down all the surfaces with "fresh clean scent" non-bleach name brand cleanser, I noticed something. A dishwasher. I have a dishwasher. And it is full of clean dishes. Wow.

Well... maybe I'll still go to a domestic goods store and buy a porcelain teapot because you never know.