How To Flirt

Hey. Ok, so sorry I'm late again, but technically I'm awake so it still counts as the same day whether it is past twelve or not. Blog-o-rama continues!

Anyways, tonight I met a guy that I thought was very cute. We were at a bar and he asked my table who wanted to play pool. I thought that this was the perfect way to get to know him so I was all like, "Me, I'll play pool!" So I got up from my chair and the chair fell backwards. This was the first sign. I then proceeded to play pool with him, the girl he was actually interested in, and me- who has only played pool once and was BAD at it. I'm not sort of bad at pool, I'm terrifyingly bad. I naturally have hideous hand eye co-ordination, I can barely hold a pencil, so an entire pool cue is like a lesson in stupidity. I never hit the ball once, and when I got the white ball in the pocket thingy by accidentally grazing it, I was like, "What number is the white ball? And the guy says, "Number? That's the white ball!" Needless to say it was a mistake. I thought I'd get up there and be all, "Oh I'm not too good at this, could you help me?" And he'd say, "Yes." And we'd fall in love. It's that simple.

Sadly this is not the first time I've made a jackass of myself to get a guys attention. It's actually quite frequent. I will now list the ways in which I have mastered the art of flirting. Follow with discretion.

In grade nine my house had a fire. Of course that was the day I decided to wear a robe (with nothing underneath) all day long. A few hours after the fire, I decided to go look for my cat. Since I had no clothes I was wearing my neighbour's sweats that were five sizes too large and fingerless gloves (to complete the hobo-ensmeble). So I'm walking down the street, looking nuts, screaming, "Skyla, Skyla!" When who should pass by but my crush looking super cute in his baseball uniform. I was mortified!
SIDE NOTE: I had to end the story with mortified, because the more I write this down the more it sounds like it could be in YM or Seventeen Magazine. All that's missing is if that day also happened to be the day of my first period.

I have spat on guys accidentally while trying to flirt or at the very least seem attractive. One time ice actually fell out of my mouth.

I went to kiss a guy sitting on his bed and I took him off guard so he fell and hit his head, badly.

One night I was at a party and was having a really good conversation with this guy. He asked if I wanted to go to his apartment and I was like sure. We get to his apartment and it is covered with posters of The Joker from Batman. Like covered with every kind of Joker imaginable. The Jack Nicholson one, Heath Ledger, the cartoon, even pictures of him dressed as The Joker; it was terrifying. I then said, "Oh, do you like The Joker? To which he responded, "No, LOVE The Joker." I then said, "You know who I like, Two-Face." He then went silent. Half an hour later he asked if I wanted to sleep on the couch or get a cab.

This summer I babysat across the street from the hottest construction worker I have ever seen. Everyday I would bike past him. One day I was staring at him so intensely I crashed my bike into the pile of rubble he was shoveling onto the sidewalk. He asked if I was ok, and I said these exact words to him, "AWKWWFBW, uh yeah, sorry heh, good job." Good job? Why those words came out of my mouth in that order I will never know.

One day I will be the smooth girl with the witty banter, hair tossing abilities and eye lash batting. One day. Until then, I  guess I will be the girl that spits and has a thing for guys who have a thing for The Joker.

Thanks for reading!

I'm flirting with you, can you tell?

How To Look At Pictures Of A Vacation You Weren't On

Hello all.

So my parental units (remember that from Bring It On)? just came back from Cuba. Which was sincerely as much of a vacation for me as it was for them.
I ever so enjoyed them not being here for two weeks. Well at first I didn't really like being alone, and often I would tell Vanessa that I want a husband so I never have to stay alone in a house again.
But by the third day I was loving it. I could sleep in forever, the mess that was made was only mine so it was in specific easy-to-clean places in the house, I ate when I wanted to (instead of the usual force/guilt feed my mother loves to do), and best of all I could leave the house without being asked a few thousand times- "Where are you going? When will you be back? Should I make dinner for you?"
Now that I've written this all time I kind of feel bad, because it just seems that my mom (and apparently not my dad) just wants to know information about my day-to-day life and that's not such a negative thing... I guess.

But now they're back and they have pictures. But because we live in 2011 ma and pa can't just get them developed and deal with them themselves. Instead, I have to load it on the computer and then email the pics to every single one of their friends. This seriously cuts into my selfish time that I so enjoyed when they weren't here. Selfish time is the best. It's full or reading magazines, giving yourself pedicures and naps. But now I have to spend at least twenty minutes emailing pictures of upside down palm trees and my dad wearing a straw hat with his bulky "University of Roma" sweater (I've given up trying to justify the way he dresses).
But I'll do it. Because I live at home. So it's my punishment for not being independently wealthy. But boy if I was was independently wealthy, selfish time would just be know as time. And that's my ideal vacation.

You and I weren't here

Al's Views 2

Hello all and welcome to another edition of Al's Views.

Tomorrow I am taking my headshots and I am having serious issues with deciding what to wear. Well actually, I haven't even opened my closet because my closet is a disaster. So if I open my closet to start the decision of what to wear I will inevitably have to clean my closet. But I can't clean my closet because if I clean my closet I'll have to add a bar at the top of the closet because I want to start to hang my clothes. So if I add a bar that means I have to measure my closet, go to a hardware store, buy a bar, install the bar AND then start to clean my closet. Oh my god, I'm exhausted just thinking about it. So instead of actually choosing the clothes that I own (somewhere in my room that I dare not mention) I have been looking in Marie Claire and NYLON magazines, and have been playing my favourite game of what would I wear if I could wear something from the magazine.

NYLON's offering (Fig. 1):

So I guess if I wanted to look super trendy (trendy being ironically not trendy) I should paint a fox on one of my Nonna's sweaters.

{SIDE NOTE- I love my Nonna and miss her so much, but what she has left me are three of the greatest sweaters I have ever owned (Fig.2). You can't really tell by that picture, but the sweater is black with electric blue houndstoothish print. I love it!}

But I guess if I were to follow the NYLON trend the casting agents would be too distracted by the fact that there is both my face and a fox's face in the picture and that's just asking not to be hired. So no to NYLON. Oh and I love how serious the Olsen twins are about fashion. Almost as serious as they are about pizza, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k6DA_WwO90c. (Special thanks to Stella Melchiori for showing me this.)

Marie Claire's offering (Fig 3):

Ok, so this magazine clearly wins. I enjoy everything about this photo. Starting with the model. Clemence Poesy was so delightful in Gossip Girl and 127 Hours. Plus she has the uncanny ability of being really beautiful, modelly, perfect-looking but I don't feel any jealousy. It helps that she was born in '82 (but I swear to god if she was born in '88!). Anyways the look is flawless- sweet hair, cool jacket, the mixing of prints, high waisted jeans; I am all about this photo.

Conclusion:

So I guess I haven't come any closer to figuring out what I'm going to wear tomorrow. I have come closer to the fact that I have a magazine buying addiction and I need to start limiting myself to like three a month... or four... one or two magazines a week, but that's it!

Thanks for reading!
                                            

Fig. 2

Fig. 1

                                                                                                            

Fig. 3

PS. Please excuse Fig.3 for not being exactly in the middle. It took me half an hour just to get the pictures in that order so I'm not touching anything, unless I touch the computer by throwing it out the window.

PPS. Sam, no worries I am treating your laptop with the utmost respect.

How To Stay In

  Hello.

So it's Saturday night. I'm in my twenties. I should be going out. However going out is seriously overrated in Toronto in February, so here's a few helpful tips on how to stay in like a pro.

First off, try to forget where you have put your cell phone. If you're like me it's usually in yesterdays pants or on it's way to being destroyed by the washing machine because you've thrown it in the dirty clothes. Now that your cell is missing you won't feel obligated to answer it and be given incentive to go out.

Now what are you wearing? Jeans, take them off. Get into the loosest fitting pants you can possibly find. My dad has issues with waist bands, so almost all the pyjama pants in my house have been cut at the waist. You should do the same. I'm also always cold so staying in means bundling up. A big sweater with a scarf is both warm and as my NYLON magazine tells me trendy! Basically, your wardrobe should look like my father's daily uniform:

He really does wear this everyday, everywhere

You can choose to accessorize with a baseball cap if you must but it's not necessary.

Also take a cue from Marcello in this photo and eat, eat, eat. You're already not going out so you've basically given up. I've recently found out I'm allergic to all things delicious, however if I had my pick of munchies nothings more of a classic than Miss Vickie's Sweet Chili and Sour Cream.

Finally, what are you going to do to entertain yourself? Classy people tend to read, listen to music and have a nice glass of wine. My top choice of staying in fun, is marathoning Gossip Girl and then discussing the characters like they are people I actually know.

Here are some conversation starters:

Chuck and Blair- our generations Carrie and Big?
Why is Nate so boring? Like soooo boring.
If I had Serena's money and style what would I wear? Where would I go?
Dan's changed. Is it for better or worse?
Will you marry me Chuck Bass?

So tonight instead of trying to do something, try not to do something (you get what I mean).
So sit back relax and stay in. It's snowing, do you really want to go through the hassle of finding footwear that's nice and will keep you warm? Couldn't think of anything, could you?
Staying in- the new going out!

Thanks for reading.

How To Like Music

Hey.
So I was talking with my main ladies, Anisa and Krystyna, about what I should write about and at the same time we're talking about music and how some songs creep up on you, sort of like an infection. Ok so let me explain what I mean. Do you ever listen to a song and you're like I don't really like it at all but then you hear it enough times and you sort of give in to it. I can't tell if this means the song is good and I just need to give it a chance, or it's complete crap and the media had just over-saturated my brain. A prime example of this is Lady Gaga. I really love her now, but the first time I heard "Bad Romance" I didn't like it. The fifth time I heard it, I couldn't get enough of it. What does this mean?  Is it that she's a musical genius and my sensibilities needed time to catch up? Or am I exactly the demographic the music industry is focusing on and my little brain can't compete? Makes you think. I will now list all the songs (I can remember) that I now love but didn't at first.

Telephone- Gaga (That "Central Station" Beyonce part is FA-IERCE! Plus I like the sound under the main vocals of the chorus that says, "Tonight I am dancing. I cannot take your call, tonight I am dancing". It's funny)
What's My Name- RiRi (You got to love the purple manicure she's rocking in the video)
Bad Romance- Gaga
Paparazzi- Gaga (This one doesn't really count because I only like the piano version. The dance mix is poo)
The Only Living Girl In The World- RiRi
Forever- Drake, Eminem, etc
Teenage Dream- Katy Perry (I really, really dislike Katy Perry, but this song won me over after I found out it was about Russell Brand- he's my teenage dream, in a creepy wouldn't allow my teenage daughter to watch his stand-up kind of way)
Sunday Morning- Maroon 5 (Yes I once liked Maroon 5. In fact in grade 10 when it was my birthday my friends decorated my locker and put a picture of Adam Levine and that made me happy)

Wow, after stacking all the songs up like this I think it's pretty blatant that the media is very, very powerful and I have been duped big time. Oh well I could get into the psychology of this whole thing- after all I did get a 90% in beginners psychology at Humber College (which translated to UofT is like a 40%, if they would even recognize what I learned was in fact psychology). But I must get ready to go out and quite frankly I am seriously in the mood for blasting some Lady Gaga. So I'll catch y'all later cause tonight I am dancing, I cannot take no calls because tonight I am dancing.

Thanks for reading.
Classic-Al!

See he's kind of cute in a douche baggish way

How To Say I Love You

So right now I'm watching Love and Other Drugs for the second time. But in my defense my friend Elly's over and she hasn't seen it, it was four dollars, and Jake Gyllaanhaal is a super fox (however it does have lines like, "My friend's Thai and I'm Thai curious." Plus that and Anne Hathaway looks like a rabbit). Anyways, there's this one part in the movie where Jake has issues saying I love you. In fact, he has such issue that he has a panic attack. It seems like a stupid part of a stupid movie but something hit home for me. I too cannot say I love you. I never say it, like ever. Even when I'm talking to like my mom on the phone and she says, "bye, I love you", I'm always like, "Uh ok uh-huh sure bye." I mean it's my mom I know that I love her, I just can't say it.

Now there was a rumour floating around theatre school (that I started and my friend Nora can vouch for) that I may be dead inside. Not that I don’t have a soul or anything (which many of you may think I don’t have one after the whole cat cooler story) but I just don’t emote in the way that people, especially women, do. While I matriculated to theatre school (like that word usage, eh?) everyone cried once, because I don’t know why, I guess people go through emotional turmoil and we were there all the damn time so it was bound to happen. But not me, nope not ever. Ok, I did cry once but that was when I had woken up at three in the morning and couldn’t get back to sleep, so by ten AM I cried due to sheer exhaustion (I may be soulless but I’m not a robot).  Anyways, so I can’t say I love you and I can’t cry, I feel like there’s some sort of relation. 

Sadly I can say I love you to fictional people/celebrities all the time. Here is a list of all the people I can easily say I love you to: Matthew Perry, Chuck Bass, Jon Stewart, Alec Baldwin, Judd Apatow, James Franco, Barack Obama, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Chuck Bass, Hugh Grant, Ker Wells (shhh, keep this one a secret!), Blake Lively’s clothing, Colin Firth, Ewan McGregor, the dad and gay couple in Modern Family, Conan O’Brien Michael Buble, Russell Brand, Zach Braff and Chuck Bass.

Ohhh, I have a problem, I’m supposed to explain a “How To” on how to say I love you, yet I cannot. I guess I can do baby steps so like the next time someone says it to me maybe, possibly I will say it back…ok fine I will for sure say it back. Maybe I might say it first… no I can’t, I can’t it has to be slower. Ok so that's the plan. Whoever is the first person to say I love you to me I will definitely say it back. No pausing or nothin'!

So thanks for reading and I l…ll…l.o…..love y…y..yo…yyo…you all. Yay I did it. Sort of. 

 Thanks for reading!

                    I truly believe Anne Hathaway looks like this breed of rabbit

I

 

How To Do An Improv Scene

Hello.

As some of you may know I've been taking classes at The Second City for improv. My new session started a couple of weeks ago and I am not loving it.  This not loving it sucks because usually I’m all about my acting classes. I even look forward to them, but this session for some reason, my class has decided to band together and at some point in every scene a guy calls a girl a whore, bitch or slut.

Now, I don’t think I’m a prude and everyone knows that comedy is not politically correct and I am not asking it to be; but this is not cool and worst of all it’s not funny. What I am asking of the scenes is humour. Until one of the guys in my class stands up and does a scene where I am legitimately laughing because of the cleverness of what is being said and not because of how horribly uncomfortable I am, they are not allowed to go to the “whore” place for a laugh. And why is calling a girl a bitch, whore, etc. a life preserver for more than one guy in my class? All I can say is being someone who has been doing improv for a few years now, I have never been in the middle of a scene and out of nowhere called a guy a dick, whore, bastard (which is why I assume the guys think using these words are funny because it has nothing to do with the scene).

I know I’m being preachy but I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I need to know am I being a prude or should I say something next week when someone calls a girl a whore? (and believe me it will happen)

You see my main issue is the boys never refer to any of the other boys in the scenes as these words. I guess it should be either everyone’s being called bitches or no one. 

But in the end just do a scene that’s funny and entertains the audience. Damn pricks.

                             SIDE NOTE THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS POST:

Yay! I understand why you're in Instyle now!

A few months ago I wrote a post wondering about the mystery of Michael Sheen. In the post I also wondered why Emmy Rossum was always in magazines being known as an actor. Well I wonder no more. Emmy's in a new Showtime show called Shamelss and she's acting and everything. I can now cross that off the list of "huh?". However, Michael I am still waiting to know what's the what, so c'mon let me know.