thunderstorm ponderings: why can’t sandra bullock rob a casino?

so, a band of rather nasty thunderstorms moved through toronto around 5pm today, bringing with it high winds, heavy rain and a deeeeelightful drop in temperatures. it went from 88F to 68F in about 15 minutes. sometimes, mother nature does toss me a bone.

as i pulled up the blinds on my wall of windows and watched day turn to night, i paused to reflect on the following:



* why is there no Ocean’s 11 or 12 or 13 featuring an all-female cast? i mean, if george and brad and matt and don can all get together to make a fun caper flick, why can’t gwyneth and cameron and sandra and emma (thompson, because i ♥ her)? or drew and cate and hilary and halle? heck, any combination of 11 actress of A- and B-list calibre would do. does hollywood think no one would come to that party? i’d be first in line! it should be noted that there is a female-driven heist movie in the works but, despite co-starring diane keaton and queen latifah, it also stars scientology robot and soulless humanoid katie holmes, which means i will not be first in line. this thought crossed my mind when an Ocean’s 13 commercial ran on the TV behind me.

* why, whenever i have to have my blood taken, does every single medical technician prepping the needle and tubes refuse to believe that they won’t be able to find a usable vein in my right arm? each time, as they reach for my right arm, i say, “the veins in there are hidden. they’re tiny. no one can ever find them. please use my left arm, where the veins are also tiny but somewhat find-able.” and, each time, i get the exact same response. “well, i’ll just give it a try!” WHY? they never find a vein. NEVER. and yet each plucky pricker somehow believes that she will be christopher columbus, discovering the arterial wonders of my right arm. SHE WON’T. this thought crossed my mind as i watched the storm and looked down at the big purple bruise in the crook of my left arm, from which the blood was eventually taken.

* for all its revamping and retooling, Canada’s Next Top Model is nothing more than an hour of available advertising space for anyone who wants their products shamelessly placed throughout the show. it is RIDICULOUS how obvious the product placement is on this show. brand names are always very clearly turned to camera, with contestants often extolling an item's virtues in dialogue so scripted it’s laughable. “i’m hungry. OMG, i’m going to make one of these Delisio™ pizzas! i absolutely LOVE Delisio™ pizzas! while i wait for it to bake, i’m going to apply some of this Olay™ moisturizer. i just love how it makes my skin SO soft!” spotting each shameless plug would make for an excellent drinking game, though you’d likely be rendered unconscious before the first commercial break. this thought crossed my mind as i looked out the window at the street below and wondered how or why anyone would go out for a walk in this weather...if he was a CNTM contestant, he’d have blown away by now.

* sami the cat, as pictured in a previous entry, has been adopted. not by me. while a part of me was sad that i’d missed my chance, a bigger part of me knows that the OSPCA gets dozens of new cats every month, most of which are thoroughly lovable. this thought crossed my mind when the windows vibrated after an exceptionally loud thunderclap and i thought, “if i had a cat, i wonder if it would be afraid of thunderstorms.”