The Kardashians are Making Me Klaustrophobic

Just like a lot of other people, I love celebrity gossip. In line at the grocery store, I can't help flipping through the magazines with headlines screaming celebrity pregnancies, divorces, drug problems, superpowers, and all that.
A few celebrities I am totally tired of hearing about are the Kardashians.

Don't get me wrong, I've watched their show Keeping Up With The Kardashians a bunch of times, and just between you and I, actually really loved it. The ridiculous drama is a guilty pleasure of mine.

The reason I'm tired of them isn't really their fault, now that I think about it. It's the insane amount of publicity every minor activity they perform receives. And that would be the fault of paparazzi and the like.

I just don't understand some of the articles I've seen. "Kim Goes Shopping" "Kourtney Goes to the Park with Her Son", the list goes on and on. Do people not realize that these are normal, every day tasks? Why is it necessary to report on them with such awe,  like us, the Little People, have never been to a mall before?

I've also realized now more than ever, every one of Kim's decisions receives a flurry of discussions, some that are totally unnecessary. For example, during Kim's pregnancy, I kid you not, I saw copious amounts of articles including multiple variations of the quote "I Just Can't Stop Eating Junk Food!"

....

Wow, what an intense piece of investigative journalism! I'm intrigued!

I assure you, if I was a celebrity and every time I ate something bad for me an article came out, my fans would be buying weekly 500 page novels at the grocery store checkout.

Maybe I'll pull a Chris Crocker :"LEAVE KIM K ALONE!", or better yet, just leave me alone. I have no interest hearing what sandwich Kim ate today because I'll be too busy scarfing a bag of chips or something else that would garner a lot of attention if I was famous for...whatever it is that the Kardashians are famous for.

Just call me Khristina.

Everyone Has A Snowday Except for Me

Because I've lived in Canada my entire life, I'd like to say that I know how to handle the cold. Give me a foot of snow? No problem, I have my trusty boots by my side. Give me -5 temperatures? No problem, I've got a horrible looking down-filled jacket to protect me.

Well, for the most part, this year's Canadian winter has been easy to handle because I've been off of school for the last month. Nearly the whole month of December I've been toasty warm in my house.

Now, school has resumed and Mother Nature has decided this week would be the best week to create weather of apocalyptic proportions. Today, the temperature outside feels like MINUS FORTY. Yes, you read it right, -40 degrees Celsius is the weather in which I am expected to wait outside for my bus like a pig ready for slaughter.

One would think that WAY below freezing temperatures like that would at least afford students one or two days of school closures. Not a chance. I'd like to meet whoever decides on these type of things, because obviously they're extremely confused and/or deranged. If it's being said that human skin should not be exposed to this type of temperature for more than five minutes, what makes this person think it's a grand idea for us to trek to school? Sure, I have a pretty extensive collection of hats and mittens, but my balaclava collection is lacking.

Hey guys, no I'm not about to rob a bank, I'm just trying to survive the school day.
Photo by en.wikipedia.org.

The worst part is going onto social media and seeing all of the other school closures that aren't your school. It feels like every other institution of education was like "Let's preserve the lives of our students and let them be all snuggly at home." While mine had no remorse of any sort.

Luckily for me, I'm a princess and there is no way I will subject myself to that kind of torture, therefore, I have created my own snow day for myself. I like to call it "Christina-Values-Her-Skin-Too-Much-For-It-To-Be-Burned-Off-By-Ungodly-Temperatures Day".

I'm a Typical Teenage Girl: Halloween

Whenever I scroll through my Twitter feed, I always find funny tweets making fun of teenage girls.
Being a teenage girl myself, I always laugh at them and think, "How funny! Good thing I'm not like that!"

Until I am.

This tweet is from the account @TweetLikeAGirl :

I saw it and was like, "Ahahah...wait-"

Crap. I'M a typical teenage girl. In my defence, this was a last minute costume and the only simple costume accessories I found in my closet. But let's be real, those ears ARE pretty darn cute.

I guess it's not so bad being a "typical" teenage girl after all. :)

...But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop laughing at those tweets.

Happy (Belated?) Halloween everyone!

The Not-so-Magic School Bus

Photo by pixabay.com

A little while ago I talked all about my gripes with the airplane. But, most people, unless you're Justin Bieber or someone, rarely are on planes and therefore can handle the crappy food and general discomfort for a short amount of time . The bus, on the other hand, is a mode of transportation that I am all too familiar with, because I take two buses to get to and from school. This means I spend about two hours a day dealing with public transportation. And for someone who doesn't particularly enjoy being engulfed in the body odour of strangers, this isn't exactly a walk in the park.

Let me clarify for those lucky souls who have never been on a bus before. If you are one of the passengers with the misfortune of having to stand during the ride, I assure you that you had better be ready to hold on for dear life. Every turn and lane change has you enacting some serious pole dancing moves to remain upright. There is no way that you can stand without leaning on or holding onto anything. So don't try it. Don't be a hero.

While it's obvious that standing on the bus isn't a good time, sometimes sitting isn't a blast either. When I have no one sitting beside me, I'm so content. I've got my headphones in, jamming to Lana and enjoying my personal space. Once someone sits down, that all changes. Most of the time, a normal person sits beside me, and I'm cool with that. But once in a while, you get that smelly, personal bubble-bursting, possibly psychotic person who plops themselves down right next to you.

This leads me to two requirements I would enact if I was the owner of a bus company (and just for the record, I have no plans to become one, although I'm sure I'd do amazing):

1. The Shower Policy: If one has not showered in many a day, or has a strong musk that follows 20 feet behind them, they are not welcome on Christina Bus Routes.

2. Christina Bus Routes reserves the right to request a Breathalyzer test of any passenger they deem necessary.

The second one is totally not a joke. The other day a guy stumbled on the bus, bloodshot eyes, goofy smile and all. And of course he had to stand, which requires 120% focus and highly developed motor skills. This guy is flailing around, generally just being a nuisance, and nearly tumbles out of the bus when his stop comes. Therefore Rule #2 is incredibly, incredibly necessary.

Also, the drivers are not always a ray of sunshine either.

A few weeks ago, I was running late and saw the bus coming down the street. I couldn't make it to the bus stop in time, so therefore just stood on the side of the road, praying the driver would take pity on my pathetic soul and stop for me, which she did.
Out of breath, I began to thank her, "Thanks, sorry I-"
And this lady interrupts me by saying "Next time I would advise you to wake up earlier."

WHAT?

Photo by openclipart.org

Hold on right there, woman! I just woke up late, had to run around the house like a psycho getting ready, run to attempt to make it to my stop, embarrass myself, and all around just be in a state of panic for half an hour, and you have the audacity to give me ADVICE, which was not really ADVICE at all. I don't need your sass this early in the morning, PAL. (As you can see, I'm a total ray of sunshine in the morning, so everyone else should be, too, right?)

So there are a few reasons why my morning commute is not half as enjoyable as I would like. I'll be accepting vehicle donations all week.

Transportation Troubles: The Airplane

I know, I know, it's been a while since I've posted. But before anyone gets too offended, I have some pretty good excuses. I spent a week in Punta Cana, and I am now onto my third week of university, so it's been a pretty exciting month! Some things that I don't find exciting, though, are public modes of transportation. In the past month, I have experienced a couple plane rides, and more trips on the bus then I would like (which is zero), and naturally, I have complaints about them both. In this post, I'm going to focus on my lovely plane riding experience.

Photo by pixabay.com

Before I get into it, let me just say that I am not a particularly good flier. Before I board, I try to pump myself up like, "People go on planes every day, you've got this!" But let's be real, airplanes are just not a good time.

There's the total lack of space. While I believe that I'm meant for a first class life, unfortunately I'm on a mediocre class budget, and therefore get herded onto the plane with the rest of the peasants. This is an issue, because I have a case of self-diagnosed Restless Leg Syndrome. I am literally always tapping my feet or bumping my knees up and down, and that is just not conducive to the airplane experience. There is no room for my crazy legs to fly around and this makes me incredibly (you guessed it) restless. While doing my Irish dance steps/ restless leg fidgeting, I keep accidentally kicking the back of the person's chair in front of me, leading me to forever be bracing for them to turn around and rip one of my restless legs right off.

Comfy.
Photo by pixabay.com

Next is the back of the chair. The airline graciously gives you one of two options. Bolt upright- your body literally at a 90 degree angle, your posture rivalling those of soldiers at attention. The second, for your flying comfort, is to put your chair back about half a millimetre to 88.5 degrees, which will undoubtedly make you feel like your lying on a cloud while soaring through the clouds. It never seems like much when you lean back yourself, but God forbid the person in front of you leans back, because then it pretty much feels like their head is in your lap.

The food is one of my personal favourites. On my flight, I was lucky enough to be served breakfast. It was an egg/omelette type of substance, or so they told me, in a prepackaged container with the label "Expiry Date: August 2014". This might just be me, but I'm pretty sure eggs are not supposed to remain edible for one year. A label like that must be questioned.

Lastly, the safety precaution video at the beginning of the flight. For an anxious flier like myself, this is just what a need to make me feel safe and prepared. A ten minute video highlighting literally every possible horrific outcome of the flight I'm out to take off on. "Oxygen masks are above, life jackets below, suits of armor to your right..."
The animated characters to go along with the video are even better. They demonstrate how to put on these masks and life jackets and suits of armor with such a serene look upon their face. "The plane's nose-diving? It's cool dude, we've got lifejackets and this fun emergency exit slide to use, nothing to stress about. Let's exit in an orderly fashion." Not a care in the world.
I'm just saying, in the event of some sort of crazy emergency,  you won't be seeing me doing much of anything in a sane fashion, let alone an orderly one. I'd probably be pushing children and the elderly out of my way to get to the nearest exit, yelling "ADIOS AMIGOS" and hightailing it out of there.

In the end, thankfully, I made it to Punta Cana safe and sound, and boy was it beautiful. Worth every moment of my restless, artificial egg eating plane ride with my plane-neighbour's head in my lap.

Mall Madness: In Real Life

After a successful day at the mall, I'm in such a good mood. Maybe I just found a cute shirt on the clearance rack that was just my size, or maybe I ate a double scoop ice cream cone (the ice cream cone would probably make me the happiest, let's be honest...). I'm probably pretty tired from walking around the mall all day, and I'm ready to get into my car and finally sit down.

 I'm so close to reaching the outdoors, just a door away, and then, all of a sudden, my day is ruined. Because I lose faith in the human race. This happens when the perfectly capable person in front of me on the way out presses this button. 

Photo from openclipart.org

 I just don't understand.

 Their hands aren't full, they have fully capable appendages, yet, they are just SO exhausted that opening the door is much too strenuous to handle. It's not even like they don't know how to open the door, as there are usually very clear PULL and PUSH signs so that there is no risk. They won't embarrass themselves by pulling and throwing their back out or anything, they won't push to no avail. There is literally no reason for this button to have even been touched. Their fingerprints should never have graced this device.

 So, because of this person's laziness, I have that six second waiting period where we have to step back and allow the door to open with molasses speed. In this moment, they are undoubtedly thinking, "Wow, the wonders of modern technology. Why use my fully functioning arms when I can press this magical button?"

 Once the door has finally slid open about four inches, the person remembers that there are people behind them waiting, then tries to squeeze themselves through a head sized opening, all at once catching their bag on the door and losing the last remnants of respect I had for them. Also, for some reason, once the button has been pressed, the door becomes the weight of a boulder and you have no choice but to wait for it to open fully, you can't even push it open to get through quicker. This only adds to the anarchy.

 So, recap time. Within about fifteen seconds, I go from satisfied, to dismayed, to impatient, to finally, relief, as it's finally my turn to go from the mall-air, filled with the smells of fried everything and the coughs and sneezes of the human race, to the fresh outdoors. "Phew, that was a doozy," I think. My life is dramatic, I know.

Mosquitoes are Horrible Party Guests: Part Two

So, it's been a couple of weeks since I covered my mosquito incident. Now that some time has passed and the memory is not so fresh, allow me to tell you about my SECOND mosquito attack.
It happened a day after the first, at my friend's birthday barbecue in the dreaded, mosquito infested outdoors. I know what you're thinking, "Didn't you learn from the first time?" and YES, I most definitely did. Which is why I doused myself in bug spray. Believe it or not, I even brought a purse just to be able to bring the spray with me. It was literally an empty bag except for the spray. Drastic times call for drastic measures.
But apparently, I missed a one inch by three inch section of thigh, and this is what I received...

It might be kind of hard to distinguish but yes, that is absolutely three bites all next to each other. And yes, they are gross. And yes, they itched with the fury of ten thousand suns. I was pretty sure I wouldn't last the week, what with these just adding to my collection.

Thankfully, my mom bought me some allergy spray to stop the itching. The only problem was, industrial grade adhesive must have been one of the main ingredients because it made me stick to everything. These three bites were already at an awkward spot, and now whenever I sat down I would take couch lint with me.

The best part was in the public washroom at the mall. I laid toilet paper on the seat in order to avoid the butt-germs of strangers (naturally) and when I got up, I had a nice strip of toilet paper stuck to the back of my leg. And don't think I'm using the word "stuck" lightly. I literally had to call my poor sister into the stall with me to pick white pieces of tissue off the back of my leg. I clearly remember saying, more than once, "Can anything go right in my LIFE?" (Those who watch Friends know where this is from), and just feeling all around sorry for myself.

I chose the name of this post to be pretty concise and to the point, because I didn't think "How I Ended Up Trapped in the Public Washroom of the Local Mall with Toilet Paper Crazy Glued to my Legs" would have fit.

But here I am, alive and itch-free. There was really no point to this story, I just needed to get that off my chest because it seemed like such an ridiculous situation for one to be in and I had one of those "OF COURSE it would happen to me" moments. I also hoped for it to be a motivational story, kind of like, "If I can survive mosquito bites then YOU can solve world hunger!"

But now I've learned my lesson. The next time I spend the evening outside I'll be sure to bathe in a vat of bug repellent, because you know what they say:

Bite me once, shame on you,
Bite me twice, I go into anaphylactic shock.