:: I'm going to buy a huge, gas-guzzling truck just to offset your bus pass ::

Except for the week I spent in Cancun, I have never once taken a city bus. Ever since I got my licence, I've always had access to a car, and my lack of bus experience is something I'm very proud of.

I know there are those self- righteous douchebags out there who like to get on their soapboxes and proclaim that they take the bus because it's better for the environment, and reduces their "carbon footprint." But it's all bullshit. The reason those granola-munchers take the bus is because a) they're too busy making hemp necklaces to go get their driver's licence or, more likely, b) they can't afford a car because they spent all their money on weed, wool tuques and organic fruit.

And today I realized, as I walked back to the office after making a coffee run, that there is something smugly satisfying about watching these transit riders run to catch a bus. It's just so demeaning.

Here they are, grown adults – some of them business people in fancy suits or other office attire – running wildly like six-year-olds on the playground, zigging and zagging through other pedestrians just so they can hop on a bus before the big accordion doors close.

I personally enjoy when they don't make it on time – missing by mere seconds, which then forces them to stand, out of breath, next to a bus shelter and any number of other grubby "bus people" for 15 minutes until the next bus arrives.

And there is nothing dignified or admirable about that – regardless of the size of your carbon footprint.

Buy a car, assholes.

(editor's note: Meghan, I know you often take the bus, so I'm sorry. At least you own a car, so this disqualifies you from the hemp-necklace wearing, granola munching category)

:: The more things change... ::

"You have to make your own entertainment. I'm like an amusement McGuyver." - Christene

"You and Christene are so much alike, it's like I cloned her and now I get twice the fun." - Kristyl

Watching football...
Jenna: Hey, why does that referee have a big "U" on the back of his jersey?
Nick: He's the umpire.
Jenna: Ha, that's funny.
Nick: If you like that, wait 'til you see the Back Judge.
(short pause)
Jenna: Ooh, I get it.
Chris: I love back judges.

"I know what it tastes like if it comes from a box." - Kristyl, discussing the merits of store-bought cake versus homemade.

Skytrain drunk: I'm kinda drunk. I could definitely drink for another 3 to 6 hours.
Friend: 3 to 6? That's quite a wide range... why not 7?
Skytrain drunk: Don't be ridiculous.

"I hate that bitch. It should be illegal to suck that much dick." - Skytrain drunk, loudly on his cell phone.

At the end of every year, it's common - expected almost - for people to think up a bunch of things they want to change about their lives, and then go out and do it. Last year, as you may remember, I had a pretty excellent year, and wasn't looking to change that much. And while a couple things have changed already, I'm not complaining.

And last night, after I'd polished off a couple caesars (double caesars, actually) plus at least a half bottle of wine, I realized that the 2008 version of my life and the current '09 version could be summed up quite accurately simply by looking at my Saturday nights, past and present.

A pre-2009 Saturday night usually involved some late afternoon beers with whoever was around (or just by myself, if people were busy), which would then be followed by a trip to a pub to watch some type of sporting event on TV, drink a bunch more and eat some nachos.

At that point, the drinking would either continue at the pub, or we'd hit up a liquor store and end up at Ian's house or my parents house, or Jer's, where we'd polish off however many beers we had just purchased while playing Wii or PS3. Then suddenly, once Ian began talking nonsense or Chris became his drunken ornery self, we'd realize it was 4 in the morning, and find ourselves a way to get home.

Then, once I'd get home, I'd usually stumble up the stairs, throwing my jacket and shoes wherever I felt like, make myself a grilled cheese sandwich, watch some sports highlights for awhile, then go to bed.

Then I'd wake up at 11, chug some water, take some Tylenol, and go back to bed until at least noon, at which point I'd peel myself out of bed, ready to face what was left of the day.

But yesterday, Saturday, was different. Although I was no more productive than usual, I did go to work for a few hours, then came home by mid-afternoon, at which point I didn't pre-drink by myself, but instead took a delightful nap.

Then I woke up, had a shower and generally made myself presentable, waited for Christene to arrive, then went to Kristyl and Jason's stone-cooking soiree, which originally was meant to be for 6 people, but once the list was pared down to A-listers only, turned into just the four of us, which was much better.

And unlike previous Saturdays, I wasn't already half-cut upon arrival, and instead of the sounds of sports and yelling in the background (which are just fine, by the way) there was overly fancy jazzy "dinner music" playing in the background because I think Kristyl was trying to impress us.

Then we cooked our own food, drank wine instead of Jagerbombs, and then hung out for awhile. Then, around midnight, we grabbed a cab and went home, at which point we did not make any grilled cheese sandwiches, nor watch sports.

And we woke up at 9 instead of noon.

Now, keep in mind that I don't prefer one Saturday over the other - both versions involved getting pretty drunk, and both were a definite good time. They just seemed like polar opposites of each other.

One on hand, I really like grilled cheese sandwiches. But on the other, I'm not sad, drunk and alone at 4 a.m. on a Sunday morning.

Actually, now that I think of it, maybe things aren't that different. Even though I woke up early today, I still required Tylenol, and I did in fact go back to bed until 12:30.

And I think I'm gonna make a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch.