Once again, taking forever to write something. The title came surprisingly quick.

It's hot, surprising no one.

Over the course of the long weekend I worked, which for the most part meant standing all day and being hilarious for my staff- it's an easy ego boost, and I don't trust things that are easy.

I don't feel awesome right this second. I keep erasing sentences that may be true but don't add up how I want them to.

Uh, I'm just staring at a computer screen. At least my current posture leans back into the padded chair, as opposed to hunched over the keyboard, which I often do while thinking about how I don't like that posture.

Of the many school groups visiting Ontario Place today one was a school from Collingwood- I used to live there, in fact just down the street from the school in question. I still remember my old phone number, but not the street address and that's bothering me. I guess 15 years is a long time ago? The house doesn't even exist anymore. Nor does the treehouse with the abundance of sap. How are you supposed to run away when you don't have a treehouse anymore?

On the dufferin bus this morning a random guy turned to me to start a random conversation. It was awesome and hilarious. He told me his mother no longer suffered from allergies because of pure, warm honey. Apparently there's a Bee Guy at St. Lawerence Market(place?) that has a booth and is maybe only there himself on weekends. Or weekdays. He's not there some of the time, as I understand it. Also, by the way, the real money is in cleaning work.
When the guy got off the bus I shared a laugh with the stranger across the aisle from me, acknowledging the delightful weirdness of the encounter. I said to her "it feels like a cut scene from a video game. Now I know I need to get some honey for the boss fight."

I read through my collection of Scott Pilgrim today, all 5 volumes. There're very few occasions when the characters express themselves with any articulation or feeling- it's mostly just glib statements stammered out for continuous laughs. Which is fine for a comedy book held between my hands, it's less fine that it's an accurate representation of real life interaction.

Here I was feeling better talking about a wide eyed honey enthusiast and then I go ahead and ruin it by talking about Scott Pilgrim. Which makes it sound like I don't like the series, but that isn't true.

So the poster for "Get Him To The Greek" says "Aaron Green has 72 hours to get a Rock Star from London to L.A. Pray for him." with a worried looking Jonah Hill standing in front of the Rock Star as played by Russell Brand.

I would much rather it said "Aaron Green has 72 hours to get this guy from London to L.A."

I suppose it's naive to want to hold a positive association with the term rock star as someone who questions and challenges the status quo. This may be another case of a personal definition being incompatible with that of the general public- I guess rock star is generally taken as one who is famous for the sake of fame and is devoted to personal excess and narcissism. And busting up hotels.
If that's the case, why do we care again?

I'm completely uninterested in this movie, but apparently it looks good to people?
I like how the poster is a goofy guy standing there and looking at the camera. It's a nice change of pace from the posters for The 40-Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up. In that it's exactly the same. What was the poster for She's Out Of My League like? I think it was similarly creative, but I didn't really notice it enough to be able to tell you for sure.

If I may sound adorable for a moment: I've had a tummyache all day. Just a little one.

"Tummyache". What a word.

Well, anyways, maybe I'll do better tomorrow. Help out, or do something nice or something. Take a step forward.