Is anyone truly happy with their age?

Don't worry. This is not one of Carrie Bradshaw's mind-blowing columns about dating and sex. You know, at the seven minute mark of every SATC episode, where Carrie has experienced some life changing event on the sidewalk or while shopping with Samantha, and it becomes the topic of her latest column? Well, if you have a penis you probably don't know what I'm talking about, but for the straight ladies, you most likely do. I am, however, seriously asking the question, Is anyone ever TRULY happy with their current age? When we were young and donning Northern Getaway outfits, we filled our seemingly boring days with fictitious games such as House, Doctor, Nanny, Teacher or Chef- all games during which we pretended to be triple our age, grown up, settled into adulthood and a shiny career; a time and a place in which we all could not wait to be! I cannot count the number of times I would put on my mother's awkwardly unattractive kitten heels she wore to Church sometimes and painted my lips red and "pretended" that I was living out my one true dream as an "adult." In my mind, being an adult was COOL, fun and simply WAY better than being a kid in every possible way. However, as I sit here at my desk (oh god, sorry if I sound like Carrie), unemployed, unmotivated, bloated from eating my emotions, and on the verge of depression courtesy of the fact that I have just completed my third year at one of Canada's top universities and the best gig I could score myself was a 15 hour work-week at my school's Sports Shop, I'm really loathing my eight year-old self for actually wanting to be an adult with responsibilities, and sleepless nights accompanied by anxiety attacks and heart palpitations. If only I knew that being an adult can actually suck. We were all so naive believing that adulthood would be glamorous, liberating, full of choice and opportunities. Oh, how we were wrong. I cannot tell you the number of times in the last year I have longed for the carefree days of my childhood. My most pressing concern as a child was whether or not my mother had packed me a Joe Louis or an apple for recess snack (yeah, I was a fat kid, obviously I crossed my stubby little fingers for a Joe Louis), or whether or not my soccer team would be assigned a "cool" team name (I remember getting White Caps one year and I was so pissed off- I really wanted to be the Rebels) or whether or not my mom would let me stay up until 8:30 to watch the latest episode of Full House with my sisters (I don't think I've ever not watched a re-run...Peggy never let me watch Full House, ugh). My point is, the woes and worries of children are jokes compared to what we are expected to deal with as young adults, and I find it so ironic that as a child I could not wait to be an adult, and would have skipped adolescence just to get to the time and place where your parents couldn't dictate what to wear, eat, and the hour of bedtime. Although I do enjoy being my own life boss, I am really not that good at it. Cell phone bills, group projects, birth control, job interviews, anxiety, emotional baking, negative balance bank accounts- these types of things which we deal with on a regular basis, were definitely, in no way, components of my childhood game of "Adulthood." I would do anything right now to be a child again- to have my meals made, my bills paid, absolutely ZERO life responsibilities except to stay away from strangers. As children we got away with everything! The number of times I pissed my bed and my mother felt SORRY for me? If I called my mother and told her I pissed my bed she would be embarrassed and tell me to grow up and get my act together. As children, there is no act to get together, no job to show up to, no bills to be paid, no readings to be read. Life for children is blissful, carefree, and something I pine after far too often these days. I could even opt for being 65 right now, retired and somewhere warm. Yes, I probably wouldn't look as good, my skin wouldn't be as soft and I'd probably have chronic this or chronic that and be wearing a diaper, but at least I'd be less stressed! Old people aren't even allowed to be stressed- it's bad for their hearts! Seeing as no one has managed to design a fully functional time machine yet (google "Time Machine," though, the shit that will pop up is somewhat alarming), escaping to my wonder years is unfortunately not an option. Thus, as far as I can tell, I'm going to have to find the courage and deal with my quarter-life crisis head on, or stick it out until I'm 65 and living what my 21 year-old self perceives to be the "dream."

When dealing with Justin, it is important to read between the lines.

Ok, so, Justin Bieber, is undoubtedly one of my new favourite people, or kids, I should say. I'm going to take the liberty right here and now to coin the term "Biebermania" to explain the pop sensation and cultural phenomena he has become. His catchy love ballads are irresistibly addictive, and have most certainly climbed their way up on my itunes "Top 25 Most Played" (sad, I know, but shit happens). He has taken the tween/teen/young twenty-something female population by storm and it doesn't appear that he will be letting up anytime soon. On top of the fact that he has possibly reached greater heights of popularity than the Jonas Brothers (yep, I said it, deal with it) he has paired up with some seriously established and LEGIT artists. With having only released one album, he has songs with Ludacris and Usher. I mean, Ludacris sort of went off the radar, but Usher will always remain one of the most worthy and accomplished R&B stars in the industry. I mean, he is no doubt so smooth, so ballin' (thanks to his Confessions album) and a person who delivers serious street cred. Sure, Usher has done about 1000 duets and remixes, but with a sixteen year-old white boy with an emo slice? Dayum, Bieber, boy is stepping up. Despite the fact that he recently hit the ripe ago of 16, and yet still looks like he's 12 sometimes (not that this makes me have any less of a HUGE crush on him, which essentially makes me a pedophile), all of his songs are about love, heartbreak, the struggles of heartbreak, the agonies of heartbreak, the ups and downs of heartbreak and the eventual end of heartbreak. For a sixteen year-old, it seems that Justin has a lot of experience with love and heartbreak, which makes sense, right? I mean he's sixteen. Just because I was still watching the family channel and eating fruit roll-ups at that age does not mean that all sixteen year-olds are not as experienced with love as I was. Sometimes, however, I can't shake the feeling that he really has no idea what he's talking about. OR, on the flip side, he knows exactly what he is singing about in his songs, and is simply a marketing genius who is able to cleverly convey two entirely different messages that appeal to two different age groups. Let's take his song with Usher, "First Dance." It is a great slow jam, has a solid beat-something you can relax to yet also shuffle your feet to perhaps- and Usher is in it, so like, just because of that single fact, the song is obviously that much more bomb. Moving on to the actual lyrics of the song however, stirs up some confusion. When I first heard the song, I was all like, "Aw, JB, sewww cute! Singing about his first dance with a girl he likes! That is seww preshy!!" But, then, after listening to it a few more times my naivety began to waver. I mean, he's supposed to be talking about sharing his first dance with some other young sixteen-year old girl at prom. But lyrics such as, "Girl I promise I'll be gentle , I know we gotta do it slowly. If you give, give the first dance to me, I'm gonna' cherish every moment, 'Cuz it only happens once, once in a lifetime," really don't create an image of two teeny-boppers sharing an awkward first dance together. This sounds a lot like Justin planning on getting it in for the first time after prom, probably in some five-star hotel room that his manager had to sign for (you have to be eighteen to book a hotel room). The whole "Girl I promise I'll be gentle," really does not seem to be discussing one's first dance. I mean, how gentle does one have to be when SLOW dancing? Maybe if they were bumping and grinding or something, I can understand how an injury might take place, but slow dancing? Justin is clearly talking about losing his virginity to this girl. A very close look at his lyrics is not only indication of this, but the fact that USHER, one of the most sexual beings on this earth is accompanying young JB on this track, makes it beyond clear that "First Dance" really is about losing one's virginity. Such a BOLD move on JB's part. Luckily for him, his young and clueless fans would have no idea, but as for me, a much more sophisticated and informed fan, I know exactly what JB is referring to. Regardless of his songs' hidden messages, he is still the adorable Justin Bieber to me, whose songs I still shamelessly sing out loud and request at clubs.

Exams are over, it's time for mindless television.

Hey guys, guess who's back? After a very long and exhausting exam period, consisting of awfully late nights, daily visits to the pita man in redpath (I always hope for the brown man, the white man just does not know how to properly secure the pita's ingredients), countless quarters spent on chocolate covered almonds at the 25 cent treat machine and about one hundred unnecessary flex dollars, I am back. The one good thing about exams, besides them being a thing a of the past, is the fact that you get to suffer with your friends. I find that exams even bring friends closer together, what with all the tears, anxiety, coffee (monster cookie) breaks and stress. But, now that exams are over, I get to spend time with the people I really care about. No, I'm not talking about my roommate Meredith, who i barely saw during exams, or my family, or Hannah at the super dep, I am referring to the really important people in my life, the people who I depend on for happiness, laughter, insightful conversation, enlightenment, and a fresh perspective on life. I am talking about the cast of the Hills, the City and Gossip Girl- just your usual television characters/real people (some not so real, ahem, Heidi Montag, the wonder woman of plastic) one would expect a third year McGill student to form a somewhat obsessive bond with. Anyways, life just got so much better when the Hills, the City and Gossip Girl became a part of my life again. The Hills has obviously reached new heights this season. Kristin is back and being kristin-y as ever (and I never realized how manly her voice was) and Heidi is also back, new but-not-so-improved. The girl looks like a circus freak. Her breasts are bigger than the moon, she can't even move her face, courtesy of her chin job, nose job revision (actually?), her eyebrow life (which has made her look like she is always really shocked about something), and the fat she had injected into her cheek. She openly admitted to wanting to look like Barbie and also confessed her dream of having even bigger breast, size H to be specific (H for Heidi). Anyways, her new name is Hidi, for hideous. She looks so awful that her own mother, who is supposed to love her unconditionally, couldn't even bare the site of her daughter's new look. My favorite part about the whole Heidi Montag makeover, however, is the frail state in which the operations left her body. Whenever she ventures out of her L.A. bungalow to go show off her new bod and "friends" go to hug her, Heidi, immediately pulls back and mumbles (because that's all her face will allow her to do), "oh, be gentle- surgery hug!" Surgery hug? SURGERY HUG? Who the hell would want to hug her in the first place? The girl looks so scary, and god forbid she start to cry in front of small children- her face does this weird morphing thing whenever she starts to cry; it doesn't really move while she's crying, it sort of just slowly goes into this weird squished version of her already terrifying face. Anyways, enough about Hidi. Her hubby, Spencer Pratt, is also losing it...or shall I say, his "marbles." He has reason to believe that the world owes him everything and that no one is worthy of his trust, friendship or sanity. He has become obsessed with crystals that he believes will ward off all evil spirits of downtown L.A. Unfortunately for him, he really is not getting the memo that what these crystals are actually doing are making him look like a gypsy at a flea market wearing way too much jewelery, as well as Chewbacca with his new facial hair. The Hills tell a sad story of a group of very sad people and their very sad lives- and I couldn't thank MTV more for polluting my brain with their nonsense every Tuesday night.

What the HELL is she wearing?

Oh my god. I came across this picture and I'm honestly just so confused, and not just by the fabric RiRi is wearing as clothing, but by her hair, by the alarmingly sharp looking studs on her shoulders and her floating microphone. This is NOT the way to dress yourself in public, or alone in privacy for that matter, because God only knows what one could have planned while wearing this....thing. I usually back Rihanna, even when she petitions to get raped in her lyrics (cue "Rude Boy"), but this is just so bizarre. I'd like to point out how convenient it is that a strip of fabric is covering her nipple (thank god). Obviously the "designer" of this item had everything covered! NOT. Let's evaluate the missing gaps of "thing." Where did they go? Did she eat them? Did the designer eat them? Did Rihanna eat too much backstage and burst through the "thing?" Is she short on cash and couldn't afford to purchase enough fabric to cover her entire body, or is the creation of this "thing" due to the fact that her stylist is a total reet (retard) and the only on Rihanna could afford? One would anticipate that after all the "What Not to Wear" sections of celebrity magazines in which Rihanna has frequented, she MIGHT get the point that the public often considers her somewhat of an oddity (understatement). I can guarantee that Chris Brown is looking at this picture thanking his lucky stars that he doesn't have to be this person's "boo" anymore. This outfit has led me to the definite conclusion that Chris Brown did much more than just physical damage to Rihanna when he beat her up because it is quite clear that mental damage also occurred. No one in their right mind would wear this, I mean it just does not make sense- the shoulder studs, the carefully measured missing portions of "thing," the floating microphone and a hairstyle which makes it look as if she is bald on the right side of her head. Why? Why is she doing this to herself, to me and my eyes? And to the poor children in China who had to make the fabric? I really wish she hadn't worn this, it's just upsetting on way too many levels, and I think Chris Brown is partially to blame. Shame on you, Chris!

Miley's Latest Work: "The Last Song"

This Easter weekend I had the pleasure of going to see Miley Cyrus give acting another shot in her latest movie, "The Last Song." Do I regret my decision to spend 8.99 to watch Miley pout and suck the face of someone four-hundred and ninety-eight times hotter than her? No, absolutely not. Although the movie did have its ups and downs- the downs were VERY down in fact- and I was found myself often in the dark and unable to follow the seemingly simple story line, I found it bearable, and at times, enjoyable
The movie takes place somewhere in a small town in Florida. Miley's character "Ronnie" (short for Veronica, which quite frankly makes no sense to me whatsoever) is a troubled teen who is forced to move to her Father's house in Florida with her younger brother for the summer. To be brief, Ronnie is a lost teenage soul, who gave up playing the piano after her parents divorced and since then has expressed her emotions through shoplifting, failing her SATs and rejecting her acceptance to Julie Arts.
On her first night in town, Ronnie is obviously out mingling with the locals when she coincidentally and unknowingly meets the LOVE of her life: Will. Will, played by the unbelievably sexy Liam Hemsworth (google him girls, you will NOT be disappointed) is a muscular, superbly tan volleyball player who spills Ronnie's strawberry milkshake all over her as she accidentally strolls through one of his games on the beach.
Anyways, if you have half a brain, you can figure out what happens next: Ronnie and Will fall in love, spend their summer days making out on the beach and saving sea turtles. Trouble in paradise strikes at the halfway point when Ronnie finds out that Liam knows the true identity of the person who burnt down the local church, which up until then had been framed as her father, who, oh, has cancer, which the plot line casually left out for the majority of the movie. Obviously, upon finding this out, Ronnie's world comes crashing down and she dumps Will, who she believes to be a traitor and a liar (really, Ronnie, he was in the middle of telling your dad the truth?) To add to the confusion, the scene prior to Ronnie lashing out, her and Liam proclaim their love for each other (how long had they been "dating," again?) and Liam confesses that pleasing his family is so hard these days ever since his brother died in a car crash a year ago (uhhhhh??)
To be clear, within a period of about ten minutes, Liam and Ronnie exchange the "L" word, Ronnie finds out Liam knows who really burnt the church down, and as a result, feels entirely compelled to call him a liar and lose her shit on the beach while dumping him, and her father is now in the hospital about to die. To say that myself and the rest of the theater were somewhat confused with how all of this happened to unfold, would be an extreme understatement.
The rest of the movie includes scenes of Ronnie and her dying father bonding and spending quality time together- playing the piano, Ronnie learning how to make pancakes, walking on the beach- you know, all the important stuff- during his last living days. His death is slightly melodramatic; Ronnie is in the house when she hears a sound from outside. She proceeds to go to porch, only to find a glass of water knocked over, water on the ground, and her father's limp and dead body sitting in a Muskoka chair. Shocking. Devastated, Ronnie feels that it's up to her to finish the song her father had been working on but was unable to finish due to his illness....hence, "The Last Song"- right?? Anyways, she works day and night before the funeral trying to prefect her father's song. At this point in the movie, Will is MIA. As far as the audience is concerned, he is dead, a ghost and has moved on.
It's the day of the funeral and Ronnie is barely holding on. How is she supposed to go on without her father- the same man she shunned for three years and only decided to pay attention to upon him receiving a death sentence? As Ronnie is about to sit down at the piano and play "The Last Song" for all those at the funeral, the doors to the Church swing open, and there stands Will, looking as sexy as ever. It doesn't matter that no one knew where he was, or whether or not he was even invited to the funeral, he showed up. Ronnie gasps, then smiles and plays her heart out on the piano. The scene is uncomfortably cheesy and we all know what's going to happen next. You got it: after a series of pouting, apologizing and some heavy lip-locking on the beach, Will and Ronnie are back together, Ronnie decides to go to Julies Art, and Will vows to leave Vanderbilt and transfer to Columbia so that the two of them can be together in the city.
The ending would have been perceived as precious and romantic, but I was still too distracted and confused by the hard-to-follow story line, which makes me seriously doubt my intelligence seeing as it was a Miley Cyrus movie. However, if you're in the mood for mushy teen love, some serious eye candy (ahem, Liam Hemsworth, get in me) and feel that you will be able to tolerate Miley Cyrus's permanent pout on her face and poorly masked Southern accent, then I suggest you go see this movie. You might find yourself feeling hurt, however, by the fact that Liam Hemsworth and Miley Cyrus are now dating in the real world. How much does that suck?

Ladies, please.

Alright, this post is dedicated to all the girls out there who believe that doing keg stands and regurgitating beer all over their newest silk top from Urban Outfitters is "sexy." It's time to wake up, ladies: keg stands are not sexy and they send the entirely wrong message. I have never done, nor have I ever attempted to do a keg stand in my entire life. This may be somewhat related to my inability to successfully chug any alcoholic beverages, but the point is that I have saved so much dignity in avoiding being whipped into the air on a diagonal, held up and fondled by strangers trying to maintain my balance- all the while, guzzling beer. Firstly, keg stands are messy. You show me one person who has not been liberated from the firm grasp of strangers after a keg stand who does not resemble a young infant after being burped by his or her mother. After a keg stand, you are covered in spit, sometimes sweat, and most certainly beer that has more than likely already been in your mouth and throat but has managed to find its way out again (ew). Keg stands are no makeover at Macy's- they are messy, demanding, taxing on one's system, contaminated and the FARTHEST thing from feminine, let alone sexy. A girl who chooses to commit her frail body and weak stomach to a keg stand is under the very erroneous impression that in doing so, Travis, her crush in the corner of the room (but not too far away that he won't be able to witness her humiliating stunt) will catch his eye by proving how cool and wild and hot she is. Wrong. There is absolutely nothing sexy about being tossed up into the air by a bunch of frat guys who secretly think you're heavier than you look and would much rather hang out with their grandmothers than see your flabby stomach hang out of your shirt, and having beer squirt out of your mouth and into your face in all possible directions. What, do you think you're going to come down from that keg stand, beer drooling down your face, on your shirt, and in your hair, and all of a sudden seem SO alluring to the guys in the room? No. Absolutely not. Unless there is a guy in the room who is into butch girls who can keep down more beer than they can, then sorry ladies, keg stands are masculine and will never find themselves a tasteful bearing in your lives. I'm just curious as to why females think men will find it sexy that they can chug beer upside down for as long as they can. Do these girls also think that entering a hot dog eating contest will result in guys chasing after them? The fact is that guys will not find this sexy. Keg stands are designed for humans with penises. They are something in which guys take part in as a means of demonstrating their strength and superior chugging capabilities in comparison to other guys, and with the hope that some dimwitted girl in the room will find it impressive enough to sleep with him. Girls do not and should not need to do keg stands in order to attract attention from guys, unless they are looking to be "one of the guys," which, quite frankly, is an issue in itself. The point is that keg stands are not a sport in which women should partake. They're dirty, contaminated, more often than less have girls on display in the air in unflattering positions for all to see, and there is simply nothing whatsoever, sexy about beating a guy at the one thing he may only be good at in life.

Mean Girls: Best Movie Ever

The movie "Mean Girls," starring lifetime loser Lindsay Lohan, Rachel McAdams and the wonderfully witty Tina Fey, is what I like to call a silent masterpiece. This movie is my all-time favourite- I literally can watch it over and over again. The reason for which I call it a silent masterpiece is because it really does not receive as much credit as it should. Because the movie has "girls" in the title, many males are hesitant to watch the movie, or simply do not find any immediate appeal due to the title. For those who choose to pop a copy of "Mean Girls" into their dvd player, however, soon realize that this is the best movie ever made. Reason #1 for which the movie is amazing: it is accurate. Girls are absolute bitches and this movie depicts young females in a high school environment almost too perfectly. The girls in the movie are cruel, catty and cold. The new girl in school- Kady (Lindsay Lohan)- finds herself eating lunch alone in a washroom stall after suffering from an embarrassing incident in the school cafeteria- no one wanted to sit with her- even the band freaks wouldn't invite her to take a seat at their table. This kind of stuff actually happens. I found myself in the exact same position after urinating on a police officer at a school dance after a few too many Mike's Hard Lemonades. It was my first time drinking and needless to say, my behavior landed me a three day suspension. Going back to school was terrifying- I just could not face Burlington Central High School's student body after pulling a stunt like that. Thus, I made my friends eat lunch with me in the third floor washroom for the next few weeks until things calmed down and some new scandal entered the scene. We didn't eat in the stalls of the washroom, however, that is just downright unsanitary. The point is that girls in high school can be horrible- and if you're not in the cool crowd, then fuck, you're screwed. Reason #2 for which this movie is amazing: it is extremely offensive. Tina Fey's script has the characters dropping racial bombs, gay bombs and lines that the Family Channel would never dream of airing. I bring up the Family Channel because often "Mean Girls" is categorized as a young teen flick but that categorization could not be more far off. "Mean Girls" is no "John Tucker Must Die," "Freaky Friday" or "Crossroads" taking on the challenges of adolescent angst and first kisses; "Mean Girl" deals with all that bullshit but in a way that can only be enjoyed by those who possess an actual IQ. When I was thirteen and saw the movie I did not nearly enjoy it as much as I did five years later. This movie is on an entirely different level than your average teen movie. Thirteen year-olds cannot appreciate the humor of a gym teacher having an affair with two students of his, who both happen to be Asian twin sisters who think they are ghetto fab. Thirteen year-olds cannot appreciate the humour of Damien, the token fat gay guy, seriously singing "Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera at the annual Christmas Pageant. Thirteen year-olds cannot appreciate the humor in Karen suggesting a trip to Taco Bell to cheer Regina up- which Regina furiously refuses because of the fact that she's on an all-carb diet. See what I mean? Reason #3 for which "Mean Girls" is amazing is related to what I was just discussing- all the small, masked humor that really can only be recognized and appreciated by those who aren't sensitive and enjoy a little offense here and there (moi.) My favorite example to use to explain this closeted humour within the film that makes it so sensational is the scene in the hallway after a gym class at school. Kady and her lesbian-friend, Janis, attempt to sabotage Queen Bee Regina George by cutting the nipples out of her shirt while she is busy in gym class. The plan backfires and the following scene depicts female students strolling the halls modeling tops and shirts with the nipples of their shirts also cut out. One girl in particular is given a screen shot- she's ugly, in a wheelchair and wearing a shirt that says "Lucky Girl." I had to explain to someone why that was funny. Let me repeat: I had to explain why a paraplegic wearing a shirt that says "Lucky Girl" was funny- it literally broke my heart. I will agree that the joke is cruel but it is also wildly hilarious. The film, with its twisted plots of gossip, cat fights, cheating, lying, student/teacher affairs, diet sabotage and even incest (Karen repeatedly tries to hook up with her first cousin Jason), "Mean Girls" is simply the best.