So, I guess I should tell you who I am, as if that’s at all interesting. I have no discernible life. Hence, I have the time to sit here and rant on the internet about things people don’t really want to know about. 
Here are the basics:
Name: Megs
Birthday: Oh my Gods, I’m 31. I think that makes me officially “OLD”. Egad!
Sign: Sagittarius (I’m fun at parties, and a bit of a klutz. Don’t worry, I only seem to be able to injure myself, and maybe some innocent plants)
Height: 5’11”. I’m told that makes me an Amazon. Excellent! Does that mean I can be Wonder Woman when I grow up?
Weight: [slap!] Ask me again. I dare you.
Eyes: Yup, I have two of them. They don’t work very well, but they’re blue.
Hair: Lots. To my butt, lots. And red. So be nice to me or I’ll make you bleed.
Occupation: I’d say, amateur blogger, professional bitcher, full-time reader and part-time procrastinator (can’t be bothered going to full-time. It’s just too much work).
Location: Presently, Toronto, just moved back from 2 years in a miniscule town in Alberta. Originally, I’m from a medium-sized town in Ontario, just north of Toronto, called Newmarket. Tyler Stewart of Barenaked Ladies is from Newmarket. So was Glass Tiger. Ya, that’s my claim to fame.
I lived in Toronto at Jarvis & Gerrard (anyone familiar with T.O. will make that “ohh” sound. The area I lived in was not the… most upscale, shall we say) for 10 years before moving out to Alberta to see if I could jump-start my life. In the movie “Pointe Blank” they call it “shakabuku” – it’s a swift, spiritual kick to the head that alters your reality forever. I guess I was trying to “shakabuku” myself by moving out there, but… it didn’t work. So, now I’m back near my family, and I’ll let them try kicking me. I’ll let you know how it works out. 
Uthagon?: Ya, okay, I knew that was going to come up. Um, well, most children go through a phase wherein they believe that they’re adopted. I didn’t. No, that wasn’t different enough for me – I had to go one step further and be a different SPECIES. Oh ya. I’m just THAT clever. Frightening, isn’t it? I decided that I was from a little blue-green planet situated behind our sun and a little to the left (yes, the Little Prince was my neighbour), which I called Uthagon.
Uthagon was my very own planet, and I lived there alone. To get there, I would ascend a magic staircase that came through my window on moon rays. I had my own language, and even my own writing! The only symbol I ever drew with any regularity (and can still draw, and recognize) was a symbol for my name. It wasn’t until my late 20s that I realized that when you turn this symbol a 1/4 turn to the left, it forms my initials. I tell you, the human mind (or Uthagonican, as the case may be) is a strange and wonderful thing.
This is me. This is the best and only photo I’m willing to put up on the internet. Deal with it.
I love:
Book – Don’t even bother asking. I’m a bibliophile. I packed up my whole life and found that the boxes of books outnumbered the boxes of everything else. “I could no sooner pick a favourite star in the heavens”.
Movie – Jeez. See answer for books. Although, I seem to have an unsettling affection for movies from my childhood – Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Mary Poppins, Goonies, Sound of Music, Monty Python… that sort of thing. I love comedies and would much rather laugh than cry. Crying movies are too much work for me.
Television – Currently, Lost. It’s so confusing, it’s awesome! Ditto for Heroes – just WAY too much fun. The Hour with George Stroumboulopoulos, which is always good for a laugh & you actually come away from it feeling as if you’ve learned something. That’s hard for most shows to do – especially without making you feel like an imbecile in the process. New this season – Chuck, Reaper, Pushing Daisies, The Tudors, Mad Men… okay, I watch too much TV. I know this.
Permanent favourites – Dead Like Me, Wonderfalls, Scrubs, Mary Tyler Moore, Degrassi (old school). I know, it’s pathetic, but that’s me. Deal with it. I also seem to have developed a disturbing addiction to late-night informercials and curling. Help!
Music – Another hard one. Generally, my response is Jazz & obscure Canadian bands. That shuts most people up. I love vocal jazz, mostly standards. Canadian bands, because we just have the best music here. Period.
I guess it would be fair to say that I tend to like at least 30% of the top ten, and I consider the Guess Who to be the best band ever. I think the only era that I DON’T like the music from was the 80s – and even then, it was only the cheesy, dentist-office, soft-rock crap from the 80s that I didn’t like. Shocker, I know. Ragtime, Big Band, Doo-wop, all the corny music from the 50s & 60s, Rockabilly, Political/Folk from the 60s, classic rock… I love it all (with the possible exception of country. That’s on a strict song-by-song basis).
I hate:
Book – Anything on the Bestseller List or Oprah’s book club. Get an opinion & your own brains, people! Oprah is NOT a god, and I’d bet that SHE doesn’t even pick out these books, yet you allow her to tell you what to read. Jesus, GO TO A BOOK STORE. They have pleny of books for you there, believe me. God… you get all up in arms if someone you KNOW insinuates that there’s something about your life you could change – but let a complete STRANGER tell you from the almighty TV, and you’re running to the book store like a bunch of zombies. Oprah’s raising a zombie army, mark my words! Oprah and Dr. Phil – brainwashing at its BEST.
Movie – I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a movie that I hated with enough passion to remember it (personally, I figure even bad entertainment is still entertaining. I’m just in it for the story, anyway). I will admit to being contrary, though, and refusing to see movies, on principle. I have never seen “Titanic”, and I never will. Trust me on this one. I also have a LOT of issues with movies made from books. Generally, I’d rather read the book.
Okay, I have now seen a movie that I will always remember as the greatest disappointment EVER. I foolishly paid FULL PRICE to see “The Other Boleyn Girl”. It’s important to note here that I have never, EVER, in all my life wanted to leave partway through a movie – but I was contemplating that about 45 minutes into “The Other Boleyn Girl”. The actors didn’t act, the writers messed with the storyline so much that certain characters were given completely different roles in the movie, the sets and costumes were not nearly as lavish as I’d expected.
Even the yumminess of Eric Bana was cut down – for all 10 minutes that he was in the film. Oh, and the love scene? The one that everyone’s seen on every promotional appearance, where Bana rips off his shirt and gets down to lovin’ with Scarlett Johanssen? Ya, that glimpse we get of his torso is about a nanosecond long, sort of blurry (because the camera’s moving) and never happens again. Not even Jim Sturgess (HOING!)is properly hoingable in this movie. It was BAD. Like, ROTTEN bad. Ugh. I wasted two hours of my life and $13 on that POS.
Television – Any show that’s been in reruns since the 90s has to go. Jesus, they’re ALL on DVD now – if I’m THAT desperate to watch friggin’ Seinfeld or 90210, I’ll get the damned DVD. I used to like Seinfeld and Frasier and Friends, but PLEASE can we work on something new? And please explain to me the reason behind showing The Simpsons and Everybody Loves Raymond in time blocks, on every other station, so there’s nothing else to watch? I didn’t watch them the first time around, and I don’t want to watch them now. Get on with it, already!
Music – “Artists” that need a swift kick or maybe a slight case of assassination – Titney Spears and all other teeny-bopper-sluttily-dressed “artists”. You’re not a playboy centrefold, you’re supposed to be a musician. Quit whining that no one takes your “music” seriously – maybe if you didn’t dress like a tart (or flash your cooch in front of the stalkerazzi), or dress as if you were unable to find anything in an adult size, you wouldn’t have that problem. Try covering yourself and making it on your “talent”. Good luck with that.
Also, “Artists” that “sample” music and make obscene amounts of money from that “sample”. You’re not an artist, you’re a COPYCAT. The “Artist” in this scenario was the person that ORIGINALLY came up with the music that you’ve appropriated. I don’t CARE how much you paid for privilege of using someone else’s music – it’s still unoriginal CRAP. Don’t bother until you can come up with something that you can call your OWN. Ugh.
I also take issue with bands that all sound the same. Kill Emo, whatever the hell it is this week. Try writing a song with actual integrity and more than four words, screamed over and over, about how hard it is being you. It’s no picnic being me, but at least I confine my whining to friends, family and the people foolish enough to voluntarily subject themselves to this blog.Also, if you’re a musician, be a MUSICIAN. Not a model. I don’t CARE what you’re wearing, as long as you can make music. Leave the stylists, make-up artists and the designer clothes to the people with no talent – they need all the help they can get.
These things used to scare the shit out of me when I was a kid. Actually, who am I kidding? They still freak me out.
