There is a local strip club down the street and every tuesday night they hold this even called 'Foxy Boxing.' It is where two women put on a helment and a pair of boxing gloves, get into a small ring and box for three one minute rounds. Wardrobe is the woman's choice and there is a referee in the ring. Then the two women try to kick the shit out of eachother. I'm sure many of you found this exciting, myself included. The catch? The winner gets $250, and the loser gets $50 per round survived. This upcoming tuesday I am going to be a feature in Legends' Foxy Boxing. At first this seemed like a fun idea, until I met my opponent. She has 8.5 years kickboxing experience but "no need to worry," she assures me, "I haven't competed in over three years, after I had the baby." This is not comforting. But for those of you with some spare time, you should come and watch me get my ass kicked on tuesday night. The justification? Sometimes people get so high they need someone else to beat them down. I am having such a great summer I need to be brought back to reality. Nothing makes life more real then some serious jabs to the ribs.

Last year I was a very sexual person. I would like to think of that as a phase of my life that I have gotten over. For me, being obsessed with sex is a sign of immaturity. For a while I was doing pretty good, I had grown up and was beginning to experience more deep, important parts of myself. Today I checked out more ass that I have since highschool. I am in grave danger. Most importantly I feel like I have failed in growing up. After such a long time of not having sex on my mind at all times I have turned a complete 360. These feelings wouldn't bother me so much if it didn't effect my relationships with my male friends. Regarless of who they are, right now all males are a sexual icon. I suppose this is what it feels like to be a man?

I went to the grocery store last night after I ate dinner. I suppose that I was in a very healthy mood because I bought cow liver to eat for breakfast. At the time it seemed like a great idea, but now that I'm awake and it's 6:30 in the morning liver doesn't seem so appetizing anymore.

As long as I can remember I have always been afraid of the dark. This past year, as I have become more independent, I thought that I had out-grown this phobia. This past weekend myself and a few friends spent the weekend at my parents house. Last night my parents convinced us to have the biggest bomb-fire in history. We camped out around the fire constantly adding large branches to the fire that had fallen on our property during the icestorm a few weeks ago. My friends, typical city kids, couldn't get over the fact that my parents encouraged them to create a flame over 10 feet tall. It was a wild fire and we burned thousands of pounds of wood. Around 10 my parents decided to call it a night, they had been drinking wine since 3 in the afternoon. My friends and I remained at the scene to make sure that the fire didn't get out of hand.
Not twenty minutes after my parents had left my former phobia resurfaced. I was terrified of all the noises around me. I was uncomfortably nervous during the passing of occasional vehicle. I pulled in closer to my friends and the fire after the wind blew the trees behind me. I thought that for those few seconds the branches could hide the noises of someone or something approaching in the dark. I was terrified but didn't want to say anything to make my friends feel uncomfortable as well.
Finally one of my friends mentioned how incredibly creepy my house was at night and he felt that any second a wild animal or murderer could dash from the trees and kill us all. At the time this was probably the worst thing that anyone could say. Now everyone was terrified of the dark. We unanimously decided to go back into the house where we all felt much safer.
Eventhough the rest of the group hated that he had scared the poo out of everyone I appreciated his honesty. I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of the very creepy dark countryside that I grew up in.
Last night I had been outside in the dark for a while, when my parents were outside I was still a little apprehensive. There were gun shots in the distance and you could hear dogs howling, or at least what I assumed to be dogs. Even with these suspicious noises I felt completely safe. Nothing could happen to us, my Dad was outside.
Thinking back today I was surprised. Someone who claims to be as independent as I am had so much faith in their father. You think that I would be a realist about the situation and think that there are some situations where my Dad can't protect me, or even himself. But for me, my Dad will always be my personal superman. He'll always be able to protect me from harm, whether it be man or animal. It's funny how moving out hasn't actually made me more independent, but made me realise how dependent I actually am (and I love it).

As much as I love getting a ride home from work and not spending the entire night alone, I also appreciate coming home and stripping right down to my knickers.

One of my most serious relationships ended today. After so many memories, so many hours invested, so many litres. I carelessly I left my water bottle at a school in Aylmer today. Although for most people this wouldn't be a big deal, for me it is. The water bottle was a gift from my brother Carson two Christmas' ago. He was incredibly proud that he was able to find such a useful gift. I think it was one of the first times he truly saw me as a friend and not a whiny spoilt sister who thinks she's too good for him and his friends. Even today during my sparatic visits home it will be sitting on the counter and Carson will knowledgable point out, "that was the best present you've ever gotten eh Ann?"
I would never describe Carson as personable, more like clueless. He is also very modest, insecure at times. It's so rare for him to gloat. I suppose life will go on. I suppose even a water bottle can have it's flaws. I could never fill the it up all the way, it would be too heavy and apparently they're bacteria farms as well. And although I don't really need a water bottle to tell me that my brother and I get along, it was always a nice reminder.

I've done a lot of growing and self exploration in the past three years of my life and like to think that I have a pretty good idea of who I am. My likes and dislikes, habits and tendencies, common patterns and even my flaws. With all this knowledge I have been loving my life. I maintain my optimistic attitude by always being generally comfortable with my current state. Although at times I may do things to lower my physical comfort at the end of the day when my head hits the pillow, I can always conclude that I'm happy with the way life is going for me. Last night this was not the case. I am currently not comfortable with what is going on. To make myself comfortable there is something that I need to do. However, doing this would not only go agaisnt my own morals, but would also break an establised rule preached by modern society. I wonder if I satisfy myself if I will be just as tense. I'm feel as if I'm on a one way street to guilt and regret. How the hell did I find this fucking street? I thought that I had maintenace block the entrance months ago. Shit Anna, shit.

I went on a retreat with work this weekend at the 'YMCA Pinecrest Camp' and had a great time. One of the girls that I work with is a vegetarian. Some vegetarians explain their choice because they are agaisnt violence against animals. Today at breakfast we had the conversation and one of my carnivorous friends said that he wouldn't eat veal because it's politically incorrect.
Before I present my arguement I would like to establish my foundation:
Being Catholic I believe that animals have no soul and are incapable of reason.
Being the niece and neighbour of many pig farmers and a Canadian I believe in improving the Canadian economy.
I am offended by vegetarians who choose to do it for animal rights. Some people choose not to eat meat, just like I choose not to eat popcorn. That is fine. But I am offended by those who think that they are making a righteous sacrifice. These individuals need to ask themselves the question, 'Is it better to have lived an ignorant life with a fixed path than no life at all?' All the animals that we eat were brought into this world to be eaten. Without this purpose there would not exist. Farmers would not raise livesotck if there was not a market. Instead of supporting Canadian beef, pork, and chicken farmers these vegetarians consume vegetables which, in the winter, are almost entierly imported from other countries. Some of these countries that do not have basic human rights such as minimal wage.
Support animal life in Canada, eat meat.

My name is Anna, and I dance in my underwear.

I walked into work this morning and was thrilled about the great weather that we were having. I had woken up and saw the effects of a sunrise, there is no actual sunrise in the city, and sat at my window for a moment to appreciate the day. Upon arriving at work I thought that I would share this feeling with my co-workers only to find that they thought that the weather was miserable. It had rained the night before and the air was still misty. There was a slight chill and everything smelt fresh. Apparently, as I was so promptly informed this morning, that this is terrible weather and I should be counting the days until summer. I don't understand how somone can't love the way the world looks on a dull day. All the colours are a little bolder and the object slightly more crisp. My mom once told me that the best day to take pictures are dull days. I believe it. I love moderate weather. Maybe I will move to Vancouver where the colours are bold and the ski mountains are gigantic.

Good idea: watching the X-men movie
Bad idea: watching the X-men movie till 2 in the morning and waking up for work at 5:30

I just did it again. I wrote three blogs and deleted them all because I don't want to share myself with my readers. There are some people that I have suspicions could be reading my page and frankly I want nothing to do with them and feel that don't deserve to know me as a person. So, to satisfy myself with content on the page I will talk about the one topic that I know everyone wants to read about. Flesh Sticks. One in particular. Currently, like Samantha Jones, I'm am on the hunt for the perfect stick, oppose to the perfect man. Right now that's all men are to me anyway, a flesh stick. I could care less about what they have to offer as a person because I'm not willing to put in the effort to find out.
I'm not actually going to talk about them, I have too many male readers that would just be insulted

I tried to archive my blogs yearly, but it's not an option.

New people are moving in down my street. I have become the neighbourhood 'peeping tammy.' When I'm not working all I do is sit in my window, under the protection of my mulberry tree, and watch these new strangers unload their belongings. Sounds creepy and maybe it is. I'm just looking for new friends. The other day there were some student that were unloading a U-HAUL. Behind my pancreas, I found a little bit of courage leftover from exams and I walked across the street and asked them if they needed any help. Janice and I ending up moving them for a few hours that day. We really didn't have anything better to do. Unfortunatley now I know these neighbours. Thier apartment is like a constant tease for me. Considering I am officially the lonliest person ever, seeing an room with the lights on and movement is the worst kind of torture. I try my very hardest to stay in my own apartment and not run over there and bug them, but it's not working out too well. I mean I'm not one to pass up an opportunity to make new friends but when do I draw the line between enthusiastic and annoying?