This happened a long time ago. I’m just posting about it because Mallory is hot and I was super drunk.

615. Do a body shot

So, I think guns are awesome. I haven’t always felt this way, but over the past few years I have become a rabid anti-gun law type, feeling as though Canada wastes a lot of time and money ‘protecting’ us from guns. The only people who follow gun laws are people who don’t do stupid shit with their guns. ANYWAYS. Before I fall into a desperate rant about pretty much nothing, yet keeping on the topic of guns, you may have noticed I had ‘Fire a Gun’ on my life list, under #155 to be precise.

Allow me to throw into this mix: Phil, this dude I know who really, really, really loves guns. So much so that he has a membership at a local gun range. I showed up at Phil’s house a few days ago, ready for another day of watching Food Network with his parents, but instead he said “let’s go”. When asked where we might be going (in case he was planning on murdering me, I’d like to find out in advance) he replied “The Shooting Edge” . Definitely going to murder me. I mentally prepared myself for death, accepted the inevitable, and climbed in his car.

Much to my surprise, Phil was not planning on murdering me. In fact, he wanted to teach me how to properly use firearms, presumably so we could have epic glock showdowns in his house. I signed in as a guest and waited patiently with a copy of “Pheasants Forever” until a shooting bay was empty for our use. I let Phil do the talking, as I had no idea what was going on whatsoever. Phil chose a 9mm Beretta for my first experience.

After the 10 minute introduction to firearm safety and what to expect, we threw on our eyes and ears and entered the shooting bays. Holy fuck on a stick is it loud. I don’t like loud noises so I was a bit apprehensive at first, standing near the back insisting Phil go first (somewhat hoping he’d shoot me and put me out of my noise-induced misery). Our super awesome Range Officer then loaded a single bullet into the mag and made sure I was holding properly and then gave me a countdown to three and told me to fire (at the target, not willy nilly). I was still nervous at this point so I’m not going to go on a long string of “what a rush” and “I knew I was addicted”. In fact, I didn’t really like the Beretta. Too much kick and I had no idea how to aim it. Thankfully, Phil is never okay with just one gun, and insisted we try a glock.

Now, I say this in all honesty: I am going to take a glock down to the courthouse, marry it proper and make sweet, sweet love to it (I’ll allow that horrific image to sink in for a little. Also: hi mom.)

I really got into firing the glock. I love slamming in the mag, pulling back the thinger magigger, and letting loose a hailstorm of deadly lead pieces imagining all of the zombies I could be hypothetically mowing down with my murderous prowess. This is all made better by the fact The Shooting Edge has movie posters from The Crazies freely available in the bays. Needless to say I am now the proud owner of a hella dead photographic zombie.

With a sigh, I finished off the last clip, looking at Phil with my patented “I am so sad this over, do something now” eyes. Luckily, Phil either responds well to this look or is simply gun crazy, because he turned to our Range Officer and said “anyway we could fire a shotgun today?”. Our Range Officer, seeming to be just as excited as I was at the request, packed up our glock and went to get us a badass deer exploding piece of metal machinery. The shotgun tutorial was a bit longer, but worth it, because he taught us the proper technique not to get thrashed by the kickback. Phil went first (I went second, just for your own reference). I don’t care about Phil going, so I’ll talk about me and I really only have one thing to say:

Shit. I’m divorcing the glock. Shotgun wedding, for reals.

155. Fire a gun

And it’s kind of skanky.

One Sunday night whilst I was in Montreal for the Explore program, my homosexual friend Abraham suggested we go into The Village and experience one of the men-only strip joints, since it hosted ladies night every week on the Lord’s Day (hah!) $5 Cover at Campus gains you entry into some basic stripping, albeit by some extremely hot men. Some of them were hot. Other’s Abraham and I decided looked like they probably ate babies for breakfast because of their ‘roid problems. Ick.

We thought it would be funny to get lap dances too, since we were there. I had heard from other chicklets in my French program who had gone to straight strip clubs that they just danced near you, they couldn’t touch you and you couldn’t touch them. Not so much a problem at Campus, apparently. The first words my stripper (my stripper, lol) said to me were ‘you can touch me anywhere’. I did not take him up on this offer. He, on the otherhand, attempted to do things that HE would have to pay ME for. I was kind of revolted. And he made me smell like cologne for the rest of the night, which was gross, because I’m a girl and I don’t particularily like smelling like a dude.

And thus ended my adventure at the strippers.

Whatever.

It got something off of my list.

306. Go to the strippers

Well, I have gone and finished something off of my life list apparently, graduating with a BA. I one-upped myself though and pulled off a double major, thus graduating with two BAs, one in History and one in Women’s Studies. Both with distinction. Holla! This was by far one of my longest tasks to complete, taking me a full five and a half years. I’ve already started looking into grad schools, because I – for some reason – included getting my Master’s on this list. Oh and PhD. I must really hate myself.

Regardless, I guess I’m proud of myself. I think I was just more excisted for retarded photo-ops.


#350. Graduate with a BA

Now to spend the rest of the day packing for the annual weeklong trip to Kingston, ON.

I’ve decided to take a slightly new direction with this blog, wherein the focus is still my life list, but I’m more apt to just write about my day to day life and other interesting things. After taking a rather long hiatus from writing, I’ve realized I need to expand my focus in order to write both more and with more meaning.

That being said, I’ve just wrapped up a 5 week French program in Montreal, Quebec. I’m currently sitting in the airport waiting for my 8:30pm flight. It was a good trip but I can’t get over how absolutely burned out I am. I was burned out almost in the first week. I’m not cut out for the party life, and living in a University residence was party not stop. Going home is going to be a wonderful experience.

For the rest of the summer, it seems I’ll be going around Canada with some more abandon, hitting up Vancouver and Kingston. Looking into school programs and my future as well. Looking forward to blogging once again. <3

This basically sums up my feelings towards all the hoopala around New Years and New Years Resolutions. It possible sums up my feelings toward morality, life and existance in general.

All that being said, school is finally done, for the time being at least. 2010 is the year when I do everything and anything.

…but it isn’t.

While wandering around downtown today with my gay-sian friend (yes, you CAN contract gay and Asian into one word!) and he says
“have you peed in that toilet yet”

And I say
“in what toilet?”

because Keith thinks that everyone can hear his thoughts.

Anyways, it turns out he was referring to the robot potty on 17th Ave SW, which is part of a “City of Calgary Sanitation” project. There is seriously no website about this thing or information. Useless city.

It’s basically this weird roundish box plopped on a street corner. It looks kind of like something they would protect a major electrical center in or something. I decided, as I needed to pee anyways, to make use of it! Plus, I thought it was on my list, even though it is totally not actually on it. The toilet itself is fantastic. It tells you how to use it in a robot voice and cleans itself. You press a BUTTON and a CLEAN TOILET SEAT APPEARS OUT OF THE WALL!!! It also plays calming music for you as you make your business. Rad and a great idea for public bathrooms. Clean and calming!

I’m sad it’s not on my list, but whatever. I peed in a robot today and that in itself is fantastic.

The title of this post is pretty much the only sentence I can say in French. It’s probably wrong, but I say it all the time just to prove that all my time in French classes was not for nothing. I took French until grade three, on and off between grades 4 and 9, and all through high school. I came out of high school with an alright understanding and the desire to take it further, but I hit a roadblock in my first year of university. Sitting in my first day of class, the professor spoke nothing but French and everyone in the class seemed to be already fluent. I dropped it after the first day because I literally had no idea what was going on or what the expectations would be (beyond already speaking French…).

Being the giant lazy sloth that I am, I just stopped. Well, that’s a lie, I attempted, poorly, to take an independent class through Athabasca University, but that was a complete wash and a waste of money. Now, I have decided to finally get back on tackling #6 on my life list to become fluent in French. I have been fairly dedicated so far, listening to podcasts everyday, reviewing old French textbooks, listening to French news stories to get an ear for the spoken rhythm of the language. I’m hopeful. I also will be enrolling in J’explore a French learning program offered at various locations across Canada, care of the Canadian government. The program is 5 weeks long and I hope to be able to do it in either Montreal or New Brunswick. The goal is conversational French fluency, but of course they have varying levels of classes. My personal goal is to not end up in the beginner’s class!

So far, my absolute favourite tool has been Coffee Break French, produced by the Radio Lingua Network. Radio Lingua has several different French podcasts, including One Minute French and the video-based Walk, Talk and Learn French, but so far, Mark and Anna at Coffee Break French have been the absolute best at helping me get a new lease on the French language. I highly recommend you check them out if you are also trying to learn or relearn Francais, either at their website or on Itunes!

I think the worst part about having a passion for travel is jealousy. I’ve padded my twitter, facebook, bloglines – every social networking site at my disposal – with jet-setting travellers who are taking on the world. Even those I add for other reasons seem to mock me with thei lavish travels to far away places. The other day I was sitting in class listening to my professor ramble on about cod fish (seriously…fucking cod fish) and I, of course, was wasting time on twitter. Eli Roth is updating about being in Italy. I’m learning about cod and all these people are experiencing the world! I’m full of envy, full of it.

Sometimes life does laugh at you. Not with you. Just at you.

In other news, I updated my list a bit. I saw Marilyn Manson live, which was just terrible, but I did it. It would be been better categorized under “Thanks, But No Thanks” in hindsight. I have to decide what to do next on my list.

Yeah, I’m not going to Seattle. The infamous “Destination Unknown” trip has been cancelled, due to Adam moving back to Lethbridge and me just not having enough energy to get up to pee, let alone drive for that long. I wasn’t even excited to be going. What is wrong with me? I’m going to NYC in three weeks with Adam and I don’t think I’m excited for that either. I’m sick of these temporary flings with travel and awesome places.

I need to move. Somewhere awesome. I wonder how rent prices are in Narnia. That place seems happening.

For fun, here is a picture:

Everett Park in Kingston.