Cross-Canada Family Adventure

This blog is obviously a failure, as my personal life is not, by my own standards, interesting enough to maintain it.  HOWEVER, it's about to get pretty interesting because the fam and I are setting off on a whirlwind tour of western Canada as of this Friday afternoon.  That being said, I have created another  blog (one with purpose and that I promise to keep updated) to keep family and friends informed on our whereabouts should they be so curious.  Since I have a whopping five followers here, I figured I'd fill you all in, in case you wanna jump ship to blog numba deuce.

FOLLOW ME, WON'T YOU?

boundingbeula.blogspot.com

(& yes, I may have sampled the first three and half or so sentences for my first entry from a pre-existing entry in this blog, but the topic overlapped and my creative juices only flow so far so I gave myself a free pass.)

Kthnxbai.

I Was Hiding Under Your Porch Because I Love You

Prepare to gag on the cuteness which I will now put before you. Up - I know you weeped into your popcorn. If you didn't, you obviously hate your parents. And the elderly. And adorably plump children. You hate your parents, the elderly, and adorably plump children if you have yet to see and/or found nothing touching about Up. And the theme song! Did it win an Oscar? You bet your happy ass it did. Da doo doo dooo - da doo doo doooo... Which reminds me that I have been meaning to download it for months. Another nod to how good I am at following through with things. *Cough*LikethisblogIhardlyeverwritein*cough* Case in point, I am pissed that the couple pictured above (kind of) thought up the idea to base their engagement photos on this movie because a) I am not engaged and b) Never would have thought to do this even if I were. Seriously, RUDE. Everyone should make a point of studying the things I like and then never coming up with great ideas that involve any of those things unless previously approved by me. Kthaaanx. In all seriousness, these pictures make me want to just sit on my bed and weep for four hours. I know nothing of this couple other than that their names are Lynnette and James, their favourite movie is Up (WHAT?) and James wrote this little love diddy to his real life Ellie:

Lynnette… I have a confession, I am in love with you. It is not the ‘usual’ love, but the love that makes me remember the little things, the ‘boring’ things. It is the boring things in life that I will remember the most. The memories of jumping over sidewalk cracks to how the clouds talk to us. You make me remember the moments. It is that love that makes me believe. Belief that I was there when you were a toothless kid. Dancing through life, only stopping to hold my hand. Letting me know that anything is possible. I am in love with you, ‘my greatest adventure’.

It's just ALL TOO MUCH, isn't it? There's obviously no point in anyone else ever getting married now. Well played, Lynette and James. Here are the rest of my personal faves (read: all of them) for you to get all fucking sappy over:

THEY EVEN RE-CREATED THE GRAPE SODA PIN. Son of a bitch. & There are actually more pictures to be found at Wildflowers Photography if you're that emotionally starved for love and affection.

You better get a dog and name it Dug and name your first born Russell, Lynnette and James. And rescue a snipe named Kevin and throw a crazy man from his own blimp full of talking dogs. Yeaaah. Yeah, MAYBE THIS WASN'T SUCH A GREAT IDEA AFTERALL, HMMMM?

Photos via WeddingChicks

Why Dontcha Do Suh'in?

Severe thunderstorm watch in effect. Oooh, looks ominous. Granted, it hasn't progressed to 'warning' yet, so I'll let this gross inaccuracy slide. I do hope it storms tonight, though. Best sleeps.

So, I will acknowledge the fact that I had previously promised to never allow real life to distract me from blogging duties for more than five days at a time but unless you want to continuously read posts such as, "Stubbed my toe today. Upsetting." then it's for the best that I hold out until I have at least a paaaaragraph's worth of useless shit to share with you. My useless life (oh, time for my meds), however, has allowed me ample (who else pictures a bosom when they hear that word?) time to write about the lives of others in my cousin Lisa's celeb gossip blog, Starcastic Beeotch. I've got a few posts under my belt over there so go, have a gander, follow it, read it, laugh, cry, rejoice. We'll refer to it as the cream filling between the chocolate cookie crusts that are my own personal posts. Delicious. Also delicious is my post about Christina Aguilera's new vid for Not Myself Tonight, which you will find there. Can't very well profess my love for her and post the song without following up with video news, now can I? Consistency, chaps. I'm made of it. Sticking to the blonde poptart (is there any other kind?) theme, I would like to share with you my discovery of 'Radio Britney.' You find this rare gemstone under Radio --> Top 40/Pop in your iTunes and then you proceed to listen to every Britney song/remix/live performance ever made of all time, forever, in history. Run, children. Run to it.

It doesn't even feel like the weekend, as I had to bring work home with me. My current employment is quickly transforming me into the most bitter of Bettys. And I do not look like a Betty, so it's lose/lose to have to be a bitter one. This transcript is due Wednesday and the only way to have it done in time is work on it over the weekend. Do I get paid an increased wage? Nope. Did my wage go up when minimum wage went up? Nope. Did I just run the entire office by myself for a week and not burn it to the ground? Sure did. (And if it had burned to the ground, it would have been nooo accident, I tell you what.) I'm praying to the baby Jesus of Winebagos that this cross-country dysfunctional family road trip of 2010 is actually going to take place. An entire summer in this town is daunting, to say the least, and if I'm to make it to Toronto (eeeee! Just peed a little bit) in one piece, I will need an out. Even if that out comes in the form of being trapped within Beula's confinements for a month+ with my family. Talk about blogging material.

I wanted to get up early and go for a walk, possibly even jog (HAHAHAHA), this morning and instead rolled out of bed at noon and didn't leave the house all day. I wonder what tomorrow will bring? Hold yer breaths.

I Think Our Hands Just Made A Baby

"Hopeless emptiness, now you've said it. Plenty of people are onto

the emptiness, but it takes real guts to see the hopelessness."

I finally got around to watching Revolutionary Road (also known as Titanic: The Sequel - c'mon, Winslet, DiCaprio, AND Bates?) last night and aside from being profoundly disturbed by it, I really enjoyed it - which, when you get right down to it, isn't all that shocking since I love the crap out of Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio. I have Britney Spears/Justin Timberlake feelings about the two of them. You know, like, just be together forever and all will be right in the (my) world. I wonder if dear old Mendes (Winslet's recent ex-hubatron and director of the film) saw it all unraveling before his eyes while shooting this? I realize he was the one to end the marriage, but can you really blame him when every one of her acceptance speeches involved teary-eyed, heartfelt gushes confessing her love for Leo, only to be followed by a: "And my dear, wonderful husband, who I love so much" (to be read in an English accent for full effect, please)? So while I usually feel some measure of sorrow when my fave celebs are dealt a bum hand in the marriage department, this one just opened the doors for all my wildest dreams to come true. Okay, Kate and Leo spam-time is over. But I thought the movie was brilliant, as were the two of them in it. And I especially love an ending that makes you stop and evaluate what you just saw and that allows you to draw your own conclusions about its message. Like 17 Again, which I also watched this weekend. He, too, almost cost himself everything he loved most in the world because he blamed his wife for the fact that he was never given the chance to become a college basketball star. Trials and tribulations, man, trials and tribulations.

Clearly, my weekend has been filled with meaningful excitement. I did go out Friday night (go ahead and gasp, I won't be offended) and basked in the sweet melodies of local karaoke wonders and mullets. It was just the three of us for most of the night because, as luck would have it, we picked a night where no one else decided to go out. But I still managed to do enough damage to cause myself a severe case of the vodka/tequilla morning sweats that forbade me from functioning in an upright position until 3:00 p.m. Booyah, grandma. I must say, though, I find the weight of Sundays to be quite debilitating. How are you to enjoy yourself when the shitpile that is Monday is merely hours away? Worst. Not to mention Boss Man and Boss Lady are in MEXICO until Friday, living the good life, while I'm stuck at the office with Boss Lady's Mother. She's a dear woman, but never stops talking. Usually just out loud to herself, but you never know for sure until you've already walked all the way to the office to find out that, yes, t'was a one woman conversation. Or perhaps it's an, "Oh, you've got an email here" so, all right, let me come see what it is. "Oh, it's just saying that the last email you sent was read." Oookay, GREAT. Thank you. Do keep me posted on those.

Overworked and underpaid makes le moi one whiny bitch.

Photos via Variety & Just Jared

Bringing Home Beula

Isn't she lovvvvvvvely; isn't she wonnnnn-DER-ful. Isn't she preeeecious, less than one minu - all right, so she's 20 years old. That only adds to her charm and numerous bounding capabilities, as far as I'm concerned. & really, who else need be concerned? Bloggers, meet Beula. This big, beautiful she-beast is the result of the 13 hour Beula-bound journey that I subjected myself to, along with the company of Pere and Frere, yesterday, all day. Poor Mere was confined to the unmovable abode due to work obligations, but all the while eagerly awaiting her ship to come in. Unfortunately, the ship isn't ACTUALLY in yet and, therefore, the title is somewhat misleading, but they just need to give ol' Beuls a spit shine (& hopefully a carpet shampoo. That pink monster at the front? Whoaaa, gag me.) and get her road ready (and, you know, have us actually pay the rest of the sale price) and then she's allll ours.

I don't know if you've ever been lucky enough to make it to Jumbo Land (this may not be the legit name for it; gamers retreat) in a game of Super Mario Bros. but it happens to be loosely based on my family. My dad is a large man who just so happens to like large things. Thankfully, mind you, not brand new and shiny large things. Like Beula here. You see her fly by you on the highway; you don't think, "Well, they're loaded", you exclaim, "HOT DOG! I bet they are having a GOOD time." Detracts from the pompousness and adds to the charm. You see how that works? Same goes for our enormo boat. She's old, of the same colour scheme as Boundind Beuls, but happens to be 26 feet and sleep four people. The truck? A '79; Maw needs a step ladder to get in. (I do not, but should probably use one anyway for the viewing convenience of anyone who happens to be watching from behind. It ain't pretty.) Poopaw works a mere 10 minutes away and you can already hear him coming when he hits approximately eight. The TV downstairs, roughly 56 inches, but it's no plasma flatscreen. If it were hollow, I could probably live inside it comfortably. So you get the point.

Here at Redneck Junction, we go big and bring it home.