There is nothing I enjoy more than spending 3-4 hours in a waiting room.

What kind of asshole nurse tells you that you have "bad blood" and you have to wait an entire weekend to see your doctor to find out exactly what that means, only to discover that there was nothing wrong with your blood in the first place after spending the entire fucking evening in a waiting room to see said doctor and receive said results?

Healthcare in this province is going to Hell in a handbasket.

What kind of asshole medical receptionist tells you ON A THURSDAY that you have (and I quote) "bad blood" and that the doctor will not be able to talk to you about it until MONDAY?!?! It's not like I have an overactive imagination or anything. So I'll just stew in my bad blood the whole damn weekend. Bastards.

Mr. Livingstone, I presume? (In other news...)

You know what's fun? Family photos. Especially the ones they put on Christmas cards. You know what's even more fun? When these factors are involved:

• Said photos are taken at Wal-Mart. By a kid. Who is 14.
• When said cameraman/boy asks if we want to "wear hats".
• 3 out of the 5 persons who are being photographed are hungover. Well, 3 will admit to being hungover. Incredibly, incredibly hungover.
• When a 24 year old man is asked to "straddle" his 20 year old brother.
• When a 20 year old man is asked to "straddle" his 24 year old brother.
• When, in a fit of exasperation, the cameraman/boy asks both brothers to "just squat."
• When we are being told to look at the asshole of a stuffed frog and say "cheese".
• When the oldest sibling in the family is told she is ruining the photos because she can't "stop smirking".
• When the same oldest sibling is having hot-flashes, is feeling bloated, has bitten her tongue to a pulp to stop from laughing, and continuously has her request to include Santa's sleigh in the photo denied.

Jenn, Rus, I think the Foxes may have you beat in the Christmas card department this year. But we shall see.

My sister got a part in the Charlize Theron movie being filmed in Regina. The little cash cow even got a package in the mail from Charlize with a hand-written note and a tape recorder with American accent techniques on it. Alex will play a bossy, bitchy girl in an orphanage - which obviously is the role I was BORN to play... but no. Dennis Hopper, Ewan MacGregor, and Nick Stahl are also in the film. Alex said most of her scenes are with Ewan MacGregor. She said that if I could come up with a good Halloween costume idea for her that she would introduce me to Ewan. Apparently my suggestion of Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo was not "good enough" because now Alex is filing for a restraining order to keep me away from Ewan.

In other brushes with stardom, Rick Mercer was at the airport last week filming for the Mercer Report. And of course, they team him up with "the hot chick" at work. You know, the one who gave her 2 weeks notice and is waiting for the hell that is her job to end, the one who doesn't know who Rick Mercer is, the one who didn't think Rick Mercer was funny. Ugh. I was one gate away, television HISTORY could have been made! We could have been the next Canadian comic duo! We would have put Wayne and Schuster, and Bob and Doug Mackenzie to shame! We could have put out a Christmas album! But no. Once again my bright and shiny star has been swiped from under me. Maybe my co-workers at the Gap were right... maybe I am most likely to have my own cable access show. But damn it! If Wayne's World can make it, so can I!!!

It's no wonder I have stomach pains. Life is obviously too stressful. Next week I get to have an ultrasound - just to check on the progress of:
a) the second coming of Christ
b) Tom Cruise's real alien baby (Suri is just a ruse to fool the paparazzi)
c) the deteriorating condition of my ulcer. Hooray!

Yesterday I got my bottom braces put on. The orthodontal fun never stops around here. The whole process got off on a shaky start until the orthodontal assistant realized that I already have my top braces. I never realized how catastrophically crooked my teeth were until I got braces. I also never realized how much I grind my teeth - now I have these great metal plates molded onto my molars. Trying to eat is a real treat - Jazz and I seem to go about the same way these days. Just kind of toss it up, and hope the food will go sliding down the gullet. Too bad I've never been fond of oysters.

Shout out to baby Tiernan. Aunti Autumn loves you, but I wish you would stop vomiting your food everywhere. That way you can fit into the Motley Crue shirt I made for you. Skinny models are sooo out baby.

Looking forward to heading home in 2 weeks. Jen and Rus are having a partay. They say ping pong will be involved. I'm not sure if it's a no pants allowed party though? They keep bribing me by saying that some boy who lives with his parents and doesn't have his own telephone will be there and I simply HAVE to meet him. (Yeah, I'm sure he also has every Star Trek novel ever written. Eeeegh.) Personally I think it's just an excuse to play the fake plastic ponies that Rus keeps eyeing up whenever we scour the Casino Regina for this mystery man.

Oh. Who am I kidding? I'm intrigued. At this point in the game, I guess I kind of have to be. What with that Ewan restraining order and all.

I hate to leave you all hanging, but it's time I returned to my study of children's gulags in Russia. The fun, literally, never stops in the Dharma Bum's shoebox - I mean, apartment.

How I spent my summer vacation (Or, Autumn's Total Request Show-Down Hoedown)

When I was a kid, we had this electric tin opener in our kitchen. It was a terrifying contraption and I'm surprised none of us kids managed to lose any fingers on it. (Seeing as we got into A LOT of mischief. Exploding microwaves and the like.) Anyhoo... it was olive green and I'm pretty sure that my mum never tossed the old death trap because most likely it was a wedding gift and my mum is sentimental like that. When I moved out at 17, the first thing I bought for my new home was a handheld tin opener. To this day I am not completely sure how to use it. The chaos and destruction that our beloved olive green electrical tin opener caused was unlike anything I've ever seen! It would dig into the lid and then tear the top third of the tin clear off! Zoodles would be everywhere! It was miraculous on so many damaging levels.

I had never seen anything even remotely resembling our beloved tin opener, that is, until this past summer.

When driving on Calgary roads in the summer, it is safe to assume two things:
1. Winnebago drivers are morons.
2. Winnebago drivers with Saskatchewan plates are the biggest morons of all.

Most days of mine go by without any distraught phone calls from friends in fender benders. Most of my LIFE will pass me by before I receive another phone call from a friend who is stuck in a Winnebago underneath a bridge. The underpass beneath the Centre St. bridge is terrifying. And small. Even Smart Car drivers wonder whether they are too big to make it through. It is that small. And by gum, my friend Rus thought that a winnebago could make through. But it can't, and as god is my witness, it didn't. Rus is not the first Saskatchewonian to attempt this, and certainly not the last, but when I pulled up to - what? 3 firetrucks?! 2 paddy wagons?! I could have died laughing. Now I know karma will strike me down dead for laughing at Rus that day, but man, for once in my life it wasn't me. And god knows I am a HORRIBLE driver. So that time when I was 14 and somehow managed to drive that 12th grader's car ONTO a pole at Douglas Park? This was karma saying... "yes, Autumn. You might as well laugh. You're probably due. Rus does indeed look like an ass right now."

So this is where my electric tin opener story fits in. Because not only was that damn winnebago stuck under the bridge, but the air conditioning unit was torn clean off. Like a mangled tin of zoodles. By the time the fire department and city workers had gotten the winnebago out, we were gathering up pieces of air condioner casing from the roof and the road. It was a sad state of affairs. And neither I, nor Jenn (Rus' accomplice in this fiasco, natch), nor the firefighters, cops, or city workers could stop laughing. Or at the very least smirking, so Rus would not go all hulk-like and start beating us all with air conditioner bits and screaming "THIS IS NOT FUCKING FUNNY!!!" (I'll be honest, the guy's a ball of rage. Jenn told me about their canoe trip 2 days later - he tried to "challenge" 2 little girls in another canoe. Totally crazy.)

Just kidding. Rus gets two thumbs up. He is crazy, but mostly because he thinks that riding a bike for 24 hours straight is a good idea. (Totally fucked in the head.) Anyhoo... in case you're wondering, karma got me back two days later when I fell down a hill and managed to get dirt in my underwear. Not quite the same thing, but the world does work in mysterious ways. If this was a radio show, Rus, I'd dedicate "Under the Bridge" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers to you.

My mum says I get "clunky" when I'm hungover.

I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
I will never drink alcohol again.
Except on Remembrance Day.

Saskatchewan. Home of the Air Guitar.

I feel like I'm going to ralph right now, so sleeping is out and blogging is in.

Autumn's Ultimate Classic Rock Weekend went pretty freaking well. QT Librarian was good enough to join me at the Who concert on Thursday night. Man, my socks have officially been rocked. Pete Townshend is a guitar GOD. I could watch him do the windmill for hours on end. And while Roger Daltrey now dances like a middle-aged white man (seeing as he is, in fact, a middle-aged white man) he absolutely fucking NAILED the scream in "Won't Get Fooled Again". The set list was killer and the new material is worth checking out for sure. When they started "Baba O'Reilly" I just about jumped out of my skin and then bit my own tongue off. Pete Townshend's brother Simon was on backing guitar, and Ringo Starr's son Zak was playing drums. The whole evening was electric and every bit as great as I hoped it would be. The cool thing about the show is that it was all recorded - so you can order the dvd or cd online and the proceeds completely go to children's charities. Which is a pretty rad concert souvenir when you think about it. In hindsight I now realize that it may have been a little embarassing to be seen in public with me last night. I am the epitome of the dorky fangirl at the Who show. Only disappointment? No autodestruction. Although Pete Townshend did bonk himself on the head with his guitar after the encore.

Tonight was the Rolling Stones show. Three Days Grace was opening - which sucked considering Halifax got Kanye West and Sloan. The stadium formerly known as Taylor Field was buzzing with people. About twenty minutes before the Stones came on, everyone was doing the wave and the place was so crowded that it looked totally surreal. The stage itself was HUGE - seven stories high, two of which were full of people. The Stones themselves looked like ants in comparison. It was totally insane to be there and actually see the Stones in concert, but obviously they are getting older and don't have the stamina to keep the intensity going for the whole show. I thought the set list was a little weak, and maybe if they had chosen a few of their more classic, energetic songs - maybe then the breaks between each song wouldn't have seemed quite so long. I mean, it was cool to see Keith Richards perform, but I could have done with fewer Keef vocal solos and more "Paint it Black". You know what I mean? But what do I know? They are 60 years old and they are rock stars. They can do whatever the fuck they want to. I'm just another dork in the crowd.

I've always been more of a Ronnie Woods fan myself, but I must say, Mick Jagger was looking dead sexy tonight. Absolutely no inhibitions - dancing and running around like he was 20 years old all over again. It was hysterical watching his bodyguards try to keep up with him as he ran up and down the catwalk. I would love to see the man do the Boston Marathon. Ronnie Woods (my Stones crush - even at 60) was in fine form tonight - phenomenal guitar solos - I think he may have been compensating a bit for Keith Richards who, while he's still got it, was looking a little shaky. In fact, at one point Keef was standing on the stage alone killing time before he began his two songs, and it almost looked like some poor old guy with dementia had wandered away from the care home and somehow wound up on stage at a Stones concert. It was bewildering to say the least. Poor fellow - thinks he's a monkey, he does.

While the Who managed to cover the majority of my favorites, the Stones fell a little short. They redeemed themselves by doing an encore in the form of "You Can't Always Get What You Want". Had they not performed that one song - the one song I had been waiting for all evening - I would have been crushed. It wouldn't have ruined my evening, but I'd feel like I was leaving the concert being owed something. (Like when I saw Radiohead - it was a life altering concert, but they didn't play "Fake Plastic Trees" or "High and Dry". It actually hurt my feelings.) Anyway, the fact that this was the encore song just about brought me to tears, however, I was trying to hold my supper down, so I refrained from crying if only out of fear that it would lead to other fluids escaping out of my facial orifices. (I realize this is a gross visualization, but I'm one of those people who always cry when they puke. And I just don't know why.)

Highlights of Autumn's Ultimate Classic Rock Weekend:

- People in sweater vests and cardigans smoking dope at the Who concert.
- Roger Daltrey asking people to smoke said dope outside because he is allergic.
- Mick Jagger proclaiming that "Regina rhymes with fun!"
- The number of people strumming their air guitars at the Stones. They could form their own political party based on the sheer volume of numbers. Their leader could be the guy sitting two rows down from me who looked like he should have a glass eye, when in fact he didn't.
-The guy next to me shouting out "PLAY HELTER SKELTER!!!" Hmmm... jump on the bandwagon much? You do know this is a Stones concert right? The Beatles broke up over three decades ago. This affirmed my sneaking suspicion that a whole lot of people in the stands were only in the stands because it would be lame to live in Regina and not go to the concert.
- The amount of Rolling Stones related advertisements and puns in the local media.
For example: "Brown Burger! (How come you taste so good?)"
This is an ad for a burger chain here in Regina. Who comes up with this shit?! And do they actually make a living at this? Unbelievable!
- The two Mormon missionaries who were on the evening news. They said that they had to pack it in for the Rolling Stones weekend. Yes boys, the devil has come to town.... and his name is Keith.

I'm pretty sure all this ranting is just the MSG talking. And the sarcasm is a nervous defence mechanism that kicks in right around family holiday get-together time.
It is now officially time to break out the jammy jams.
Keep on rocking in the free world.

Yay!

My new favorite store!