I'm a Gamer!

So Christmas is done. I'm honestly not sad about it. I'm actually a little bit glad. Not that I didn't have a good Holiday - I had a great one with my family and we spent lots of time with each other. It's just that there are so many movies and songs depicting the magic of Christmas, and I just don't feel it anymore. And that's not why I don't like it very much. I don't like it because I feel guilty that I DON'T feel that magic of the season. I try too hard to find that Christmas spirit that I end up exhausted. And drunk.

Anyway, I did get some lovely gifts, including gorgeous boots that I've wanted for a while and a Wii! So on boxing day, JL and I went out and purchased some new games for our recently acquired gaming stations (she received an xBox Kinect). We went out at 530am with JL's Dad, who was privy to our shrieks of laughter as we tried to entertain ourselves while waiting in line in the cold. We also tried to make friends with the others in line, but they didn't seem to want to be friends with us. Which is just rude and wrong because we are fun.

I bought the normal "girl" games like Super Mario Brothers and Glee Karaoke (girl games or little boy games...I'd like to not focus too much on what my choices say about me), but I also purchased SpyGames and Call of Duty. Why? Because they sounded really cool. And also because I want to a) be a spy and b) join the military. The games seemed like a good way to fulfill these goals.

I have yet to play SpyGames. But I did play Call of Duty. And...I sucked. I threw grenades at everything, ran INTO my fellow soldiers, and it took me 10 minutes to find the supply crate. It was embarrassing. And I was by myself. The men in the game - and this wasn't even online - were chirping me. Which I found to be very rude. They don't KNOW me. And I'm new!

I played it for 10 minutes and went back to Mario. It was too hard (that's what she said). I think I need lessons.

I also bought The Sims so I could create another life for myself. We don't need to talk anymore about that.

Love,

Bella

'Tis the Season

I had to write this post now because I'm at work tomorrow afternoon and tomorrow night I will be drunk. For Jesus.

Romance
 
I feel like, for Christmas, I should keep this post festive. Since Christmas is a fairly romantic holiday, I thought that this post from textsfromlastnight.com not only shows what true romance is, but how much it's missed by most people.
 
“Giving me the bigger bowl of ramen isn’t considered romantic.”
 
I completely disagree, and I will tell you why. Romance isn’t candlelit dinners and roses every week. Romance is spontaneous. It’s giving someone more of something while you go with less or without because you would rather make them happy over yourself. It’s laughing at a shared joke that’s been between you two forever, knowing what they’re thinking just by looking at them, or doing something for them that they always have to do themselves. I think sometimes people expect way too much out of another person – movies depict romance as running through airports to declare their love, writing a poem (barf), or setting up a room filled with flowers and wine (well, that part’s okay) and candles for one purpose or another. Honestly? I think that’s kind of lame. I’m not that kind of person, and it would make me really uncomfortable to be in that situation. Give me the bigger bowl of ramen any day.
 
Christmas
 
When I was little, Christmas was magical. Now that I’m in my 20s, I seem to have lost that excitement. It feels like just another time of the year now, no matter how many carols I listen to or how many Christmas movies I watch. But I think that because Santa isn’t around anymore and gifts are less exciting because I pretty much know what I’m getting anyway, I finally understand that “true meaning” of Christmas. We made up cards for all of our clients and delivered them to every person in the couple of weeks leading up to Christmas. A lot of them don’t have family, and they certainly don’t receive Christmas cards. To see the surprise and joy on their faces was literally one of the best moments I’ve had in my time in this position. I caught a different side of the Christmas mood – one that’s about giving back. I did go into the units dancing, though, so I’m pretty sure they all think I’m weird. But that’s cool. They wouldn’t be completely wrong in that assumption.
 
Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope that it's everything you wish for and more.

Love,

Bella
 
 

Texts From Last Night - The Message You Should Have Never Sent

My favourite site on all of the Internet is textsfromlastnight.com. I will give you the top five reasons why in this post. You are welcome.

5) They make me laugh. Out loud. Mostly in awkward places. I'm pretty sure that I should stop reading them when I'm at work, if not for the fact that I burst out laughing, then for the fact that I should probably be working. At work.

4) (I think I should have actually thought about 5 actual reasons that aren't different variations of "it's funny", because now I'm having trouble with this list). I can relate to the awkward texts that are sent to the people that you really shouldn't be talking to. Kind of like on Whitney, when her friend says she drunk dialled her ex-husband saying she hated him and still has sex dreams about him. Been there. It really is confusing for all involved. Including my friends who I cry to about it.

3) I am so thankful that I am not half of those people. As funny as they are, as much as I sometimes wish I could be as witty as they are or get as many guys as those chicks do, I do not want to be the girl who has to send someone a text of "I didn't get this from the chlamydia fairy. You should get tested." Because as much as I like to make people laugh...that's not how I want to do it.

2) I wish I was friends with half of those people (the other half, clearly). Most of the texts seem to be from people that are in University, and because I didn't have the University experience like most people have, I like to live vicariously through them. They just all seem to have so much fun. I want to go back just to party with all of them. Like, someone that writes "What a dumb baby whore" has GOT to be a fun person.

1) Half of those people (huh...I think I need to work on my math skills...) could BE me. Not the sluts, obviously. Or the drug addicts. But the one who sent "Just put your hair in a bun. We're going out to drink, not to impress people" is totally my twin. Actually, the amount of quotes from that site that I send to my friends - okay, to JL and Rio - because they are so much like us is shocking. And do you know why? Because my friends and I are AWESOME.

Initially I had written down the top ten things I like about the site, but I ran out of ideas after the first one I wrote. By the way - the however many minutes of your life that you spent reading this? You're never getting it back. Sorry.

Love,

Bella

A Very Random Post About TV

(Also? Searching "new girl" gets some odd results.)

Does anyone feel far too invested in TV? Like when it’s the start of a new week, you get really excited because new shows will be on and you can’t wait to see what your favourite characters will be up to next? And when it’s a repeat – like Castle was last week – you feel as though your day is incomplete?

I love TV. There, I said it. I watch it a lot and sometimes I become too invested in the characters’ lives. This morning I’ve watched Whitney and New Girl and have laughed along with them, wished I was there, and decided that I share more than a little bit of similarities with the main characters. And I've fallen in love with the men in the shows. I think I feel like I’m actually a part of the characters’ lives. Like they’re my friends. I think I need to get out more. I need to learn that I am not Whitney or Jess, nor will I ever be. And if I move in with 3 men, chances are I won't fall in love with one of them and become best friends with the others. It probably would have an ending much more sinister. And I don't want to be a victim that would be found on Castle. No, I want to be Beckett. Which is why I once went to an information session on how to become a cop because I thought that, naturally, I would become a detective and work with a man like Castle and we would fall in love and I would be super cool and run around in 4 inch heels with a gun.

Oh, see? I did it again. My life is not a TV show. I am not exciting enough for that. But I think I would make a fantastic actress! In what other job can you be all kinds of things in a lifetime? That's it, I'm moving to LA.

Ahem. In review, I tend to get carried away with...well everything. Especially my TV watching. And poor CD got the overflow from that today, as I shared the funny stories with him, and I’m pretty sure he’s humouring me by laughing along with me. Bet he didn’t count on this side of me when we became friends. Heart you buddy! (I also told him he was going to be in this post, so I had to give a shout out).

Also, I need to stop talking to the characters on the TV shows. I just told Nick to kiss Jess. Guess what? He can’t hear me. None of them can. That shouldn’t make me sad. But it does. I think I’m living vicariously through them. I might need to start therapy again…

Love,

Bella

Dear Love: You Suck

I was sent this quote by a fellow blogger and friend and, after we bonded over the trueness of it, decided that one of us must write about it. I’m not sure my cynicism will help me compose this post, but it sure as hell won’t hurt.

Perhaps I should preface my rant with the disclaimer that, while I suppose I could say that I’ve experienced love, I can’t say that I’ve ever actually told someone that I love them. Because that’s terrifying. And after reading this, I’m pretty sure I’m really smart for doing that. It’s a weird emotion, this thing called love. I fight it, for some reason (I should maybe go back to my therapist…) and I don’t actually let myself fall in it. Not completely. Because I don’t like to fall. I don’t like that feeling of not being in control. Falling inevitably means that you’re going to get hurt. You never plan to fall. And I guess that’s what this quote is about. That it happens when you least expect it. And it hits you in the God damned face, so even if you fight that stupid emotion, it’ll still find you (even when it’s too late…thanks a lot, Love). It’s like the bad guy in horror movies. He always finds you.

Oh, speaking of falling – this one time I fell down in front of a bunch of people at school. That sucked. A lot. I wasn’t cool to begin with, so it really didn’t help. Plus, I was running like a numpty because my shoes weren’t on properly and I’m fairly certain I was wearing flowered pants. Not entirely sure.

Ahem. Falling sucks. That’s my point.

Why do people have more power over us than others do? Why does that one person – that one normal, everyday person – have the ability to turn us into blithering idiots, jealous head cases, and possessive psychos? I’m logical to a fault. I’ve always prided myself on being a steady, non-girl when it comes to men. But then all of a sudden one person can turn me into a fucking crazy person, jealous and annoying and needy. I hate that girl. Who wants to be her? I sure as shit don’t want to be. I make fun of those girls. So when I find myself acting like that, I basically want someone to punch me.

Okay, so I’m cynical because love has never really worked out for me in the past. Sue me. It’s exactly how it’s portrayed by our buddy Neil. It’s soul crushing. You are allowing one single human being to have your heart, and you’re trusting them to never break it. Dude. I’ve tried to do that. And it backfired. And the worst part? Just because that person stops loving you, doesn’t mean you stop loving them. So you’re forced to act like everything’s okay, and maybe act like you don’t care that they’ve moved on with someone else and are saying the same wonderful things to the new person that they’ve said to you. And even when you are able to move on and put that love in the past, it changes you. It makes you a little more cautious, a little more unable to trust someone to have your heart again.

Love sucks. It’s stupid. Whoever invented it was mean and stupid and probably really popular and had, like, 30 people at once loving them. Or they were super lucky and fell in love with someone that loved them back forever and ever, or at least until they were 30 and died because no one lived that long back in those days. They’re probably buried together and everything. Lame.

Commitment doesn’t scare me. Relationships don’t scare me. Even marriage doesn’t scare me. Those are all excuses. Love scares me. Because when you fall in love, you can get hurt. Bad. And I am NOT that emotionally stable to handle that kind of pain. And maybe worse than getting hurt? If you happen to fall out of love with someone that still loves you, you can break their heart. I don’t ever want to break someone’s heart. I would never wish on someone that kind of crushing, I-can’t-breathe kind of pain. And I don’t ever want to be the cause of it.

So, in review. Love stinks. It’s hard and it does not, in my experience, turn out very well. Even if it is all sunshine and rainbows for a bit, you’re always wondering if it’s going to last (or is that just me?). Hope this wasn’t too depressing for y’all. Go grab some ice cream and a sappy movie and cry your eyes out. I suggest The Notebook. Real people with tear ducts seem to find that emotionally moving. I’ll have to take their word for it.

Love,

Bella

Love Padlock

Stupid ↑.

Today, while taking a break from work (okay, I didn’t know what I was doing), I decided to read the news. You know, to keep apprised of the important goings on in the world. About the Royals. And Ellie. Anyway, I came across an article (I’d post the link but that takes work to find and I don’t care to put in that work) that made me question humanity. There is a fad going around the world right now that has couples buying locks, engraving them, and attaching them to bridges to prove their eternal love. Or something gay like that. Seriously? Does anyone share my incredulity and sheer disgust at this latest mechanism to prove one’s devotion? A padlock. On a bridge. I don’t know about you, and maybe it’s my terror of commitment, but using a LOCK to show my love for someone basically shouts that I’m locked into the relationship and can’t get out even if I wanted to. Because I’m LOCKED IN. I’m already panicking and it’s not even me. “Hey Honey, want to show how much you love me by engraving a stupid saying on a padlock and attaching it on a high bridge in the middle of the city?” “Can I jump off the bridge after?”

That’s all from me tonight. I just had to share. You’re welcome. Or I’m sorry for wasting the time it took for you to read this (depending on how slow you read).

Love,

Bella

PS They are called love padlocks, hence the title. Love padlocks!! Seriously?!

I Bleed Blue and White

So I'm sitting here before kickboxing, enjoying a delicious Southwest salad (ok, it's good, but I would much rather it be a burger and fries), and watching an episode of The Big Bang Theory. I switched to Leafs TV to check if I had it (woohoo new PVR!), planning to go back to Big Bang. And then something happened. Something that even this Leafs fan wouldn't have expected.

I kept watching it. And like, actually watching it. (Whoa...hello blue eyes. Who IS that? Help. I need to know. I need to start stalking him in the hope that he will start following me on Twitter, realize how charming and witty I am, and marry me. Seriously. Anyone?). Ahem. Anyway, I actually got excited when the newscaster guy said Reimer will be playing tomorrow. I KNOW a player! M always asks me to name players on the team, and I was never able to in previous years. Now I can. I'm almost tearing up.

I've always loved hockey, and have always been a Leafs fan. But I feel like I've turned a corner this year. Of course, it helps that I find hockey players damn sexy. Right up there with military men, fire fighters, and cops. I would disregard any and all morals for those men. Not really. But probably.

Love,

Bella

Love, Actually, Is All Around

Can someone please tell me if this new font is readable? I got bored of the one I had and thought this was a cool change ‘cause it looks like actual writing, but I need other people’s inputs. Because this blog is for you, my fans. And by fan I mean person who came across this blog while looking for something else.

"I am Colin, God of Sex. I’m just on the wrong continent."

If you ask any North American woman, chances are that they will gush about the attractiveness of the English accent on a man (or woman…I don’t discriminate). And it’s true. Just as Colin Frissell, from Love Actually, naturally, states - English women don't understand the adorableness of an English accent. But put me in a room with a Canadian man and an Englishman, I will probably gravitate toward the Englishman (and if he’s Scottish? Gravitate doesn’t even begin to describe what I’ll do). So all you British men? Call me.

"To me, you are perfect."

Also from Love Actually. See? This movie is amazing. (Disclaimer: there’s some nudity. Just…I don’t know how old you are…). Who doesn’t want someone to say this to them? I mean, it’s no secret that I’m pretty cynical and more of a guy when it comes to love than a woman. But I would love for a guy to say this to me (preferably one that I am also in love with. Because if I’m not in love with that guy, then it could get pretty awkward…). It’s just so simple. And lovely.

Ok, I’m done.

"Well hello, Mr. Fireman."

On Friday night, I arrived home from one of my girlfriend’s and was very tired, so I decided to lay down in my trundle bed. I promptly fell asleep. I was awoken an hour and a half later by my smoke detector freaking out. The rest of the night played out as follows:

10:30pm – Smoke detector starts screaming. Sit straight up in bed and stare at the detector for a second. Very disoriented. Jump up and smack smoke detector. Stops screaming. Can hear it going off in the hall but decide that it can’t be anything serious and get back in bed. What? I was tired!

10:40pm – Smoke detector starts screaming again. Jump up and smack it. Does not turn off. Walk around in circles for a minute, trying to decide what to do. Grab chair to stand on and rip detector off ceiling. Press reset button. Starts making other weird noises along with the screaming. Cover ears. Decide covering ears isn’t effective. Jump off stool and run around apartment trying to find pants. Locate pants. Run into the hall.

10:50pm – Firemen are walking the hallway. Hair is all over the place. Shit. Yell out “my fire alarm is freaking out!” Hottie Fireman comes to my rescue. Upon entering apartment, Hottie Fireman notices that smoke detector is hanging from its wires. “I, um, tried to turn it off.” I then notice that there is a pair of underwear on the floor in my room. Very visible to Hottie Fireman. Must learn to put dirty clothes in basket in closet. Very embarrassing.

10:55pm – Hottie Fireman goes and gets other firemen. Quickly throw underwear and other clothes into closet. Three firemen come back. Hottie and two oldies that are not hot. Still. They ask me what happened. I explain, realizing then how dumb I sound. They examine the hanging smoke detector. Decide that it is very old and needing replacement. Then Hottie puts it back in its little holder thing on the ceiling. Old Fireman tells me to vacuum the detector (yeah, because vacuuming the smoke detector is something I’m going to do. I barely vacuum my floors). “Will it go off again, Mr. Fireman?” “Probably. Ok, have a great night!” Um…

It did get fixed, but the rest of the story is uneventful. Also, Hottie Fireman wasn’t married. I checked his hand. Maybe he will marry me. I love him.

Love,

Bella