lazy aesthetic
Sunday, September 25, 2011
10:19 p.m. Things to always remember
We spent the afternoon in the pub that backs out onto London Fields. There was a fair across the field and I told you that the swing ride was my favourite (that and the scrambler).
After we had to leave so you could get to work on time but as we passed by the fun fair you said 'fuck it'. We went in. You bought my ticket and the tickets for the swing ride. We were worried it wasn't for adults, or at least large giant-like adults.
You said you felt like a peodo, standing in this fair without a kid, watching the swing ride, waiting our turn. We picked a kid... a little girl in a pink and orange jumper and adopted her. "GO OLIVE!" We cheered her on... at first we were afraid she was too small and would be too afraid but she loved it.
Next we got on the swings. You could touch the ground and pretended to skip/prance/tip toe dance so hard, you spun the whole ride around. I sat in the outside seat... we were worried if you were too big you'd just crash into me if you were on the outside. No such thing. We flew around and around laughing. For a moment I felt a bit ill or anxious of being ill but it passed and everything was awesome. Sunshine, flying, green, London, you, awesome.
We left the ride, left the fair and walked through the park, heading south.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
04:45 p.m. Home
Saturday, March 19, 2011
10:44 a.m. sigh
So what, twenty seven days?
Sunday, January 30, 2011
11:14 p.m.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
11:11 p.m.
giggle
Friday, December 3, 2010
07:54 p.m. Tarragon Gone
See this girl? SItting right here with the French tarragon-but-no-tarragon-chicken and cream sauce (or at least plate that formerly contained said chicken)? Well she is fucking awesome.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
08:41 p.m.
Weird watching this with X Factor on mute in the bg.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
09:55 p.m.
Just cracked opened my no.2 issue of 'The Gentlewoman' and they have a whole feature on... apples. Amah-zing.
Friday, October 1, 2010
10:30 a.m.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
07:48 p.m.
Totally won me over by the end.
Monday, September 13, 2010
10:30 a.m.
I know I don't have to apologize for not updating in a few days... considering I didn't update for YEARS but things have not been well. Mainly I am being diagnosed with a condition.
Condition - feeling nauseous all the time, throwing up, no appetite, shakes, nerves the works.
Fifteen seconds later, I had 'a condition'
I've never really been properly sick (beyond school yard flus etc) and its been a bit scary how out of control your body can get.
Anyway we are dealing with it and everyone has been so amazing poor Jessica who was in town when I fell ill, my parents who were always on skype even though they are on a road trip through the USA, all my flatmates, friends and coworkers. Oh and the doctors. Yay doctors! I love the NHS!
I live in one of the poorest areas of the country and even then our clinic is awesome/friendly/helpful. All public healthcare. You just go in, and they fix you. What a marvellous and humane concept!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
07:39 p.m.
The last two weeks were pretty much the worst. Thank god it will never be August 30-September 7 2010 ever again.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
07:12 p.m.
A reaction: to music reviews.
I have no real interest in music so please feel free to ignore this critique on critique. In fact, I realize it is a bit hypocritical to be mean to said reviewer (hold your horses, you'll get it in a moment) but still I just have to say...
Music reviewers. Why do reviewers who hate something have to act like people who enjoy the subject of their derision must be IDIOTS. It's admitting that you think your taste is pristine and the very definition of ' good art'. In real life, I bet if you asked a reviewer whether they had some 'dirty loves' they'd be like 'wooo boy let me tell you about Aqua' (if they don't barf on their shoes... they believe their own hype). Somehow as soon as they have to review a band for a publication, this idea of democratic taste/being even-handed is thrown to the wolves. To wit...
"But most of all, Im bothered by the fact that Vampire Weekend has connected with such an unlikely mainstream audience its latest album, Contra, debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard charts in January when I dont understand how anyone could connect with its music at all."
Yes. You do not understand. This does not make you more/less of a person. This does not make said material good/bad.In fact its not even an opinion, just a snub at a group of people. A group of people you do not understand. Fuck it I know its 'just music' but this is how humans create their little divisions. Not understanding means you do not understand. In fact, it devalues your opinion. You could try and shed some ignorance and ask a musically-educated fan but apparently they are not sentient enough to carry a conversation
Now, lets still have negative reviews! Admitting that you are not a fan of cow bells or Bob Dylan's voice is a good way for people to judge whether they should listen to your review or not. But taking it that extra, spiteful step further makes you an ass.
Anyway, Indie Music Lovers this is why you are hated and I have to spend half my time defending the Shoreditch/Queen West/Williamsberg scene to 'normal' people who already have their single-minded prejudice against anything vaguely 'hipster'.
(Hint: no matter your scene, there are assholes and there are nice people - I know!).
God and I don't even know what songs belong to Vampire Weekend (this is how I tread the mid-ground between going to art parties in East London and still not being cool at all).
Canadian footnote: I do apologize to Ben Rayner, he almost pulled off this review without snark. And he does try a bit to nail Vampire Weekend's appeal but just missing the mark only made my "reader's experience" even more exasperating.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
08:16 p.m.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
07:32 p.m. Exposed
So, a few weeks ago some of us old CSM students went to the Tate Mo to see 'Exposed.'
It was right around this time I (drunkenly) decided to jump start my 'online record of daily (ha!) occurrences.' I therefore immediately became annoying and dragged the large, DSLR out to the Southbank to capture how beautiful and cool I was for living in London.
(Forgive me: Every few weeks expats need to reaffirm how awesome their city is, or else we will implode from the weight of missing weddings, missing cottage trips, missing pets, 'its GAR-AGH not gar-age', and missing you β yes you).
Love/hate. Love/hate. ETC.
Kat totally knows what I mean
The show was better than I thought. To be honest, I went for the company (and previous mentioned motives). The best bits?
*spoilers*
- candid pictures from the 1800s. Camera's were as big as suitcases. The photographers needed to be clever. Everyone is unposed (rare in old photographs) and look just like you, but with a hoop skirt on.
- 1950s someone took a night-vision camera into movie theatres to capture couples making out. I like this idea on an information graphics-level
- one artist hire a private investigator to follow her around. She planned her day accordingly and started to become a little in love with the 'mystery man' (note: she was french). For instance she would 'take' him to the gallery to see her favourite paintings, take him to meet her father. Take him to the movies, etc. Posted next to her diary was the photographs/notes of the PI. He was professional and not enthralled.
- in Toyoko there is a pastime where men go into parks, find couples shagging and go up and try to touch them (or just be close by). Since its dark, the couples do not see these dudes sneaking up. One artist went 'undercover' (sure) and took candid night-vision pictures. It is super-fantastically creepy.
Inspired, I took a picture of Spiers and Sarah on the way out. Sarah is a photographer. They did not see me. See how clever I can be?
We then went to Borough Market, gave up on being posh/getting food and headed straight to the beer, hurrah! The bar was, strangely, very rural American. Almost like a trailer with a fridge. But they had a huge selection of beer and voted one of the best pubs in London. Strange. They also had the best crisps in London (according to Spiers).
They also used flower pots as ash trays. Just imagine!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
01:25 p.m.
Off to Rose's 30th birthday party in the park... nothing like other people's milestones to make you feel young and pretty! Happy Birthday Rose!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
09:43 p.m.
I am a little sad I've stopped documenting my life... at least with direct observations. I was thinking about this the other day... on the tube or something. On the way to work. Walking (pushing, really) past people along Oxford st. Then I realized that the past two years have been pretty well discussed through emails.
Emails. I mean its a different kind of recording... but maybe even more true to life than diary entries. ?. Hm. I have to think about it. But the bad part about these letters is that they are so full of problems and angst. I dont know why we don't write about the happy stuff as often as the complex, confusing, embarrassing and terrible things. I suppose its a bit like reaching out when things go dark but it doesn't make for tempting reading.
The best recording I've seen lately is Hollie and Jane's photography/blurbs over on loveitalot. It's a treasure. And since it is technically a shopping blog, it's so unintentional and effortless it doesn't reak of showing off (unlike some people's photoblogs, tumblrs or whatever).
We had a lot of blogs when we were kids. One day it would be cool to collate them all, study them and see where we all went. Gather everything: howard, pizzaboner, personal blogs, facebook and myspace. Twitter or whatever is left. Fossils. What an age.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
09:34 p.m.
I cannot believe this is still here.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
01:38 a.m.
The other day, on the walk to our grocery store, I noticed that there are sheep grazing in the park by the flat. In the park, by the flat in Central London.
They are the roughest looking sheep I have ever seen.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
07:15 p.m. Note to self
Write about the party I attended Thursday when I had no voice.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
06:58 p.m. "What's new? Well, today it was cold."
You know when some one says something completely ordinary, and in your mind you think "DUH" or "Wow that comment was completely mundane. Most people are idiots, luckily I am obtaining a higher education and read many a book and think in startling new shades of thought."
And then you arrive back home in Canada and spend the next 48 hours telling everyone that 'Damn its cold' and 'No really, I didn't expect it to be this cold. I mean, I don't remember it being so cold in Canada.'
Monday, December 3, 2007
12:55 a.m. He probably had a cane and tophat when I was not looking
If you are among my closer friends/family, you probably heard via my numerous text messages/emails/msn that I saw a fox last night. A fox! On my street! In the middle of London!
To most Londoners (and several of you mentioned above) this is not a big deal. In fact, my little friend even has a name: 'urban fox' (or the 'crack fox' to some Mighty Boosh). But the fact that the largest city in the United Kingdom, a major world class metropolitan centre has a native breed of fox is just too Lion/Witch/Wardrobe for me to handle.
Yes, I read way to much YA as a child.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
01:59 a.m. Resolutions
My new thing: being honest.
Not like, I was particularly or actively dishonest before... nor am I going to start calling everyone fat... I just mean I'm going to reconcile the two little facet of who I am and who I appear to be.
That sounds too grand. Lets just say when you ask me what I've been doing all day, I will admit I watched five hours of Criminal Minds reruns instead of homework, housework, bathing or really, even eating (unless the forgotten mini Kitkat bar I found under my bed counts as lunch).
And in the spirit of honesty, that is not what I did today but a comic amalgamation of a series of past weekends.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
02:28 a.m. 8b
Great things about flatmates I forgot about: rewatching films you would never, in a million years, thought you would see again. So far the list includes:
Beauty and the Beast, Lion King*, Phantom of the Opera, Copycat Killer, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Full Monty (on VHS), About a Boy, Love Actually (thats I lie, I love that movie and would watch it twice a month if I could)...
Okay I can't remember the rest. But you get the idea.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
12:04 a.m.
Reason 20987 I love UK television.
We just watched an autopsy on tv.
We just watched an autopsy on tv with a scary German doctor who wears a black cowboy hat.
We just watched an autopsy on tv with a scary German doctor who wears a black cowboy hat and unnecessary full frontal male/female nude models with skeletons painted on their bodies.
They conducted an experiment with a plastic skull filled with jelly on a remote control car. The car hit the wall and the jelly brain jumped out of the skull, splattering the audience with jelly.
The scary German doctor with black cowboy hat then cut open a real skull and jiggled the brain around. The body had no face.
This is the second season of this program. Apparently they tamed it down from the first season.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
03:31 a.m. Remember, Remember
Tonight we went down to the Thames to be entertained with the fireworks at Battersea Park (without actually having to fight the crowds inside the park). I was pretty excited as, hello, fireworks and also I completely disregarded Guy Fawkes Day last year (which I regretted).
Hurrah! It's exciting to have a life!
Well the show ended earlier than expected and Michael revealed his secret desire to see Elisabeth 2: Electric Bugaloo so we found a theater (oh sorry, cinema) in Chelsea and enjoyed a few hours of pooping on the Spanish. Seriously, I didn't know they were sooooo evil, you guys. But I heart Clive Owen and so was entertained.
So passed 'V for Vendetta' Day. I think it is one of the stranger 'customs' I've come across in London. I mean, they get to burn effigies?! Can you imagine North American kids burning large flammable people?! Good god, the safety restrictions! The public outcry! We have a hard enough time with first degree sparkler burns.
Oh and kids in London throw fireworks at CARS! CARS! They have firework FIGHTS! They are so hardcore.
On the bus down, we discussed Canadian events involving fireworks (Victoria Day, Canada Day... ugh Ancaster Day?) and how they do not actually involve fire (either in a gunpowder plot/burning terrorists context) so celebrating with fireworks is weird. But they are so loud and pretty!
Guy Fawkes Day is also awesome as it is a little morbid and the perfect complement to the weird feeling after Halloween. The whole point of Guy Fawkes Day is to remind children what happens to traitors (therefore the 'remember, remember...' nursery rhyme). Which is a way better motivational lesson than 'you will get coal in your stocking.'
Saturday, November 3, 2007
04:45 p.m.
Watching Falcon Beach in England... never thought that would happen.
Friday, October 26, 2007
02:11 a.m. Not intended for a general audience
Yesterday I did one of my favourite things in this entire world... walk along the Southbank of the Thames. After a seminar in South London, Ebs and I were trying to find somewhere, anywhere, for a quick drink before going home. Ended up bankside, under the London Eye (never been that far west before), picking way through buskers to the Tate Modern and a pub with a brilliant view of the river/city plus sunset. Even Romana made a surprise visit! It was lovely and we stayed out waaaay too late. Anyway "my London": a walk along the Thames, a drink till the sunsets and then walk past/through the Tate and across Millennium Bridge to St.Paul's tube. This is one of my tried and true tourists tricks for anyone eager enough to visit me. 99% of the time I really don't feel particularly "Londony" but that is something that is just... ahhhhhh.
I really didn't fall in love with the city until I stood on that bank on a Sunday morning, May 2006. Up until then, I really didn't get the big deal. Second favourite is wandering around 'The City' or Covent Garden (I know, London, collective gasp).
I know, quite boring but I wanted to record something wonderful for my own personal prosperity, as I have a feeling this blog with be bitch, bitch, bitch.
Friday, October 26, 2007
01:50 a.m. "It is called... 'a typeface'"
Teeeeeeeeeheheheheheheheehe
Thursday, October 25, 2007
03:10 p.m. Am I being too obvious?
I'm really struggling with this project. Sorry, not 'this' project, THE project. Yesterday I had a crit with Geoff, the mad professor of our faculty, and it was quite dispiriting.
Please hold on to your sympathy hats for a moment... I'm not saying I had a horrible critique and was laughed out of the program. When I say 'bad' critique its not about the work or opinions but on how it made me feel afterwards... and I guess that feeling was 'ill'.
The first part of my project, my message or theory or little tidbit of graphic communication I'd like to explore seems to contain something interesting inside. At least to me (and apparently Geoff). The problem is the advice: "do something original/great/fantastic." Well... yeah...
I feel like I did not inspire Geoff (nor did he exactly inspire me ... more like induced blind terror) and that is always hard after a prelim critique, a prelim critique where your main problem is some sort of inspiration. Or even assurance.
Problem is that you will not be assured in design... or at least in an academic building. Oh no, to be a creative is to live dangerously! Terrified! On the edge of something new! Wonderful! Extraordinary! Problem is, I am in the terror of blankness.
The disheartening critique is also no one faults. Or maybe a bit mine. You cannot 'strike a chord' every time you go in for a chat. And I was particularly off my stride... I misjudged. I should of been honest, student/teacher more than 'this is a business presentation'. I should of tried to discuss my unease rather than laugh it off. Maybe I would of taken something else home.
Anyway I cannot tell whether what I have, admitted not much, is actually meaningful, in a practical and not preachy level, or will my project, founded on these principles, will just be illustrating some system... whether it be infinity, a narrative, or whatever content I finally, one day this millennium, decide upon.
Anyway, this sort of passive depression seems to be an epidemic among the graphics kids so I am not alone. Nor special. The only worrying little twinge is, while I am familiar to this type of creative despair (come on, I've been studying design for almost six years) I really feel like I may not recover and honestly believe I am in the wrong. Somehow. I mean I have never been a particularly confident designer but this... this is something else.
This is not humility.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
06:59 p.m. London, year two
Okay so Im really going to work on recording this year (for my enjoyment, obviously). Either I am going to start a new blog or just keep riding this old horse. I suppose, as a Canadian, I am starting off with an apology: this blog will focus on work. It will focus on the final days of my program, academic ambitions (well continuous ambitions... you know I've been doing this since the age of six... but one day in the future ... who knows). I apologize for starting with an apology. Today, our department head Geoff admonished me for starting a critique with "Sorry I don't have anything to show this afternoon..."
But really, I had nothing to show. Instead I gave a great little crit speech. And with very little audience participation (well except for some 'math jokes' and confirmation of what I did tuesday) I completely blinded everyone to the fact that yes, I have nothing to show this afternoon.
Digression.
Like everyone else in my program, this year is painful. It is creative mind-torture. It is 'I am not ammounting to anything' torture. And if you are not writhing in uncertain academic pain, your project probably sucks and you are boring everyone to tears.
Today we had a very weird tutorial. Everyone came in. sat around the table (or on the tables) wondering, 'why are we here on a Thursday'. Then the profs (or tutors as they are called in England) walk in and ask 'Why are we here on a Thursday?" Before preceeding to guess various reasons. We finally settle on: Geoff will talk for a while and after lunch we will do crits.
ALSO! On Monday they want some second years to fill in and teach the first years. This sounds very exciting except for strange designers terrify me. I am afraid to go/not go. The profs are all in a meeting about 'the future of the program' and introducing cool things such as: teacher certifcication when we graduate! studio space! 24/hr access! Too bad this will all be implimented well after we are gone.
Lovely London day... diplomat stopped traffic and drove by. Good conversations. We have a Pret! I am going to have some fresh bread.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
08:38 p.m.
London: kisses! Lets not fight again.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
01:22 a.m.
Moving very soon.
I've been trying to pack, but its not going so smoothly. For instance, while I packed all my desk items, I am enduring little panic attacks that I should of packed them in a larger box. Fool! So I have to do it all over again tomorrow.
At least it's somewhat eclipsing my 'London Parking Regulation' anxiety of this afternoon. Apparently you cannot park or stop on my street. No, cars are doomed to endlessly circle, forever wandering. And the street I am moving to? Can't stop there either. Seriously London. I'm not living on Oxford Circus or anything. Its a residential street! Hopefully the removal men (the slightly sinister British slang for 'movers') won't notice the giant, white 'NO PARKING' warning painted on the pavement (seriously, it spans from one curb to the other).
Christ, why did I ever move here in the first place.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
01:21 a.m.
Hitting the 'random article' option on wikipedia, I am gifted with A List of Boston Public Characters. You'd think this subject would just be included 'under Boston Public' but I never got into the series so I may be missing something.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
12:15 a.m.
Ok so I just saw the promo for the season finale of House (UK television is a late bloomer) in which they entirely give away the ending. In fact, the entire promo revolves around what happens within the last ten minutes. If I hadn't seen it properly in North America, I'd be upset.
On the bright side, everyone in the US is in a kerfuffle about Showtime's 'The Best Shit in Television' where they basically say 'shit' a bunch of times. Ohhh risque. Imagine what would happen if ABC not only aired the 'c word' at ten o'clock (a la British major networks) but an entire documentary devoted to it. Oh Showcase, you are just adorable! It's like when my little sister started to swear to prove she is really, properly grown-up mad that I am allowed to stay out past midnight.
Monday, August 20, 2007
12:20 a.m.
If you leave me alone in London too long, ironically, I start slipping into the GMT -5 timezone. Slightly problematic when its ten pm and you need to go grocery shopping.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
12:57 a.m.
Most romantic thing I heard today (re: marriage)
"When you see a bargain, you have to take it... or someone else will buy it."
Sunday, July 22, 2007
01:15 p.m.
Oh, and by guests I should mention I've had a parade of Canadians through the last few weeks (in between the visits to Paris and Florence). It's funny that everyone was constantly so grateful when the alternative to guests is for me to stay in PJs till four and watch 'Ready Set Cook.' I mean, I wanted to keep thanking everyone for coming and letting me what I enjoy the most: a big know-it-all show-off ('Oyster card? what are those you ask? why, let me enlighten you...')
While its tough having so many people in a small space (record: five sleepy-heads!) everyone got on (or at least was polite) so it worked out. Imagine next year when I (hopefully) have a real flat! With a couch and everything! What luxury!
P.S I apologize to Mike and Hollie for our, er, exciting day reading magazines and waiting for the tv to be delivered (which never came and may have been stolen). And Stine, who I made my grocery shopping mule.
P.P.S Kim and Adrian arrive in a week!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
01:03 p.m.
So this morning, a little squinty and in my Sunday sort of hazy brain, I wandered out of the dorm to buy some toilet paper and hotdogs (the worst part about having guests is going through forests of toilet paper) and, I turn the corner on my quiet little block of the East End to see a mod scene.
Kids are running everywhere. Everyone is carrying BAGS of alcohol. Police everywhere. People keep trying to sell me whistles, ponchos, shoe laces (what?) and tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Ponchos. Tickets. Whistles.
"What the fuck is going on?"
Apparently there is a Groove Armada show somewhere in the vicinity of my sleepy little part of London. God knows where. It's sort of a mystery, I suppose and it makes me feel really out of touch. So I complete my Sunday shopping (waving the Budgens bag at ever scalper that starts towards me) and push my home to do laundry and let the hot water run in the shower for 45 minutes to kill the drain flies that maybe returning.
I've got some Harry Potter to read.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
08:47 p.m.
In Paris... my french is atrocious. The keyboards qre different. Made friends with bartenders and hung out afterclosing till it daylight. Christine got a free shirt from one of them. Went to Shakespeare and Co: my idea of heaven!
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
12:59 a.m.
Oh and playing "what I like/hate about you" with Mike, who is trying (very hard) to fit in right now.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
12:42 a.m.
More things that are going on...
"Sorry for stepping on your 'do... is that what girls say?"
For the second time in two days, sloppy joes are not ribs and wings! (Hollie accosts the bartender putting out the garbage while we walk past the Maple Leaf)
Mike oscillates because its his birthday.
Monday, July 2, 2007
02:01 a.m.
Canada Day in England (alcohol provided by the Silver Cross and Maple Leaf):
1. Sing Alanis Morresette at the top of your lungs while walking through covent garden. Screw up a few of the words.
2. Pounds for pounds.
3. "It's like, so whatever"
4. Chrstine taking a photo of Mike's pee stream as it snaked acrosst the sidewalk (sneaking out of the alley) while waiting for the bus.
5. Sandwich artist AK
6. Mike's adventures in the bathroom: interupting a special service between two gentlemen in the washroom and then later, broke up a fight an Aussie and England guy ('it's canada day! share the love!').
7. Best Tattoo ever: John from Garfield.
8. Hungarian money? Lots of 'stache.
9. Huge nickleback fans from Alberta hits on the girls ('Oh you guys are from Ontario!')
10. Mike's birthday! Hurrah! Half way to fifty!
11. Soul mates!
12. Hollie does not understand calenders!
13. "Hollie, you can't restrict yourself to the confines of that friggen diary! So says Lizzie bear." (Stine)
14. Hollie has foppish, tunnel hair (Mike)
15. Hollie insults Tragically Hip in the washroom
Monday, June 4, 2007
11:41 a.m.
Dear Everyone in the World,
Please stop regaling me with the awesomeness of 'Knocked Up.' I believe you. And five hundred people have already beat you to it.
Love, Laura
P.S I'm not really mad that people are constantly starting conversations with 'Have you seen Knocked Up yet?'... actually I am more amazed. I mean, when was the last time a movie was good? (Answer: Hot Fuzz, but still) I will be seeing it this afternoon.
And Hollie, this does not include our awesome conversation on the employment opportunties/union rules/waxing practices of extras who are having babies on screen (subtitle: or is it all just a special effect).
Saturday, June 2, 2007
04:33 p.m.
My mantra for the past four days:
Charlie Sheen,
Ben Vereen,
shrink to the size of a lima bean!
Hey, you really wanted a glimpse inside my mind. Courtesy of: a DJ on Edge 102 making fun of Ben Vereen and then Martin Sheen on 'The Actor's Studio'
Sunday, May 27, 2007
12:56 p.m.
Back on the left side of the Atlantic. It's odd, and I know I probably say this a lot, but its not weird being home. It just sort of fits right. I think I have a talent with compartmentalising (word of the night) because London just seems like a tv show (as does Canada when the situation is reversed).
Also meeting up with folk I haven't chilled with in six months feels normal as well. It's funny to see how people react: it's almost a 50/50 of hugs or 'oh my god whats up!' versus the other half who just grab their coats and add some mundane greeting such as 'we're late!' or 'oh man last night I was so drunk...'
(and I mean metaphorical 'coats'... it was a good 30C when I got home)
Either way suits me just fine. In fact, without prompting/girly squeals I will opt for denial. And maybe its msn/facebook/emails/skype/blogs but there hasn't been a pause in most friendships or even conversations. Everything just seems so 2006.
While its incredibly self-centered, I really do believe the world is on pause while I am away (both here/London). If someone gives me a little piece of gossip thats prefaced with 'but it happened months ago' I get thrown through a small loop. Its like when you watch a tv show and nothing happens in between each episode... the characters are just sort of left in some purgatory till 9pm next thursday(10pm if there is a football game or extra long Scrubs). Again, maybe this is just a result of the internet craze (haha craze) where geography is really just a detail.
Except for people + alcohol. How I miss my drunk, drunk friends.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
07:34 p.m.
Makes me feel good inside: when, channel surfing, noticing that BBC shows like "Coast" and "Trees That Made Britian'are back with their new seasons! Take that spring sweeps.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
06:05 a.m.
Man teletubbies has a lot of live rabbits.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
06:05 a.m.
Man teletubbies has a lot of live rabbits.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
03:57 a.m.
Handed in the thesis yesterday. Wow, that was interesting. And by interesting I mean hell. I will never want to go back to the morning of April 16 2007. Never ever. I was about 80% sure I was going to fail (if you don't hand it in within before the deadline hour, you basically can't get your Masters degree no matter what else you do).
Anyways, with twenty minutes until the cut off I was twitching in my tube seat while the lady beside me curled her eyelashes with a spoon.
But I made it (wont say how close it came here... too embarassing for public record) and then attended a fabulous proper party in the evening (friend's birthday).
Boring entry but I thought I should mark the occasion.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
03:17 a.m.
Today when I woke up there was a small cockney man painting the outside of my bedroom door.
'Ugh... hi?'
'Sorry luv, be careful. It'll be tacky all day.'
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
11:04 p.m.
I use to automatically (and sarcastically) make fun of people (strangers) for small (annoying) reasons. Like wearing sunglasses indoors. Or carrying those metalic leather bags. Or driving a bug. Or bad msn pictures. Or wearing a lot of pink/leopard print. Or walking soooo fucking slowly. I may not say anything. I may not tut or give you a dirty look but in my mind, I am hurling all sorts of cutting, witty, subtle remarks (well I say witty... but you can't prove otherwise).
Well fuck you all (or people like me)l, I will now wear sunglasses on the tube (or continue to do so since last week)! Why? Well because I dont have to wear make up. I can stare at people and they won't know it. It adds an air of mystery. I can pretend I am a spy. Call me idiotic and shallow... I just don't care anymore.
Consequently I will no longer make fun of people for the little choices they make that, really, bring no evil into the world. Except if you walk slow. Oh man I will be brought to violence one day because of you slow, slow walkers.
Monday, March 26, 2007
02:38 a.m.
I've made a resolution to be a nice person.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
04:57 p.m.
I've always been a horrible procrastinator* and now that I'm in graduate school, this is a whole MA level of procrastination.
I seemed to have lost a lot of keener motivation. I can give you no suitable description over the anxeity I had over getting not only an A but an A+. Once in a while, as all fine arts kids are wont to do, we would sit around in class and expound on how 'grades don't matter' and 'it's all about the work.' While I would nod in such rebellious agreement (marks are so mainstream, guys) inside I was going 'fuck that! Fail for your 'vision' if you want, I'm graduating in the top ten percent!'.
Intellectually I understand the argument. In any field marks are either a subjective opinion or a neat calculation of what you've managed to memorize. But it validated my work. You see, I always thought my work is crap. At least with some form of definate ranking system, I had hope of being somewhat happy. Successful.
I'm a little bit happier with my work here in London but a lot more lazy. And I'm not sure the trade off is worth it. And I'm scared I lost some of that ambition. And I am praying it wasnt what made me good in the first place. Cause now, well it's sort of when I need it the most, isn't it?
So I'm not sure if its me letting go, anemia, reaching my limit, depression, lack of inspiration', anxiety, homesickness, burn out, pressure, lack of sunlight, poor diet, seasonal affect disorder, sloth or just a loss of identity from living so far from everything that use to define you (oh boy more on that another time) but I'm having a hard time of it.
On the plus side, everyone else seems to be unhappy as well.
* note: except for the middle of highschool where I would study for exams THREE WEEKS BEFOREHAND
Monday, March 19, 2007
02:25 p.m.
Last ditch effort to procrastinate fixing thesis...
Here's a fun UK fact: they are wacky, absolute zany about climate change. Every single night there is something about carbon footprints. The Tory's and Labour are arguing which party is the 'most greenest' (neener neener). I mean, have you ever heard people feeling guilty about flying because of the fuel it takes up? I never even THOUGHT about it till now. And people want to ban air travel, which makes this Canadian a bit nervous because I am not that good of a swimmer.
I am all for greenery, by the way. Go ahead: up the congestion charge, ban energy inefficient light blubs, tax airline travel! It's nice because without any effort on my part, I really feel just more environmentally friendly living here. Even thought I still leave my tv and all the lights on when I go to class.
Oh! But I should say, the one really weird omission on this environmental crusade is recyclying. In Toronto you can't walk three feet without bumping into one of those 'sort your garbage' bins. I can't even figure out how we recycle at home, let alone in public.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
09:11 p.m.
Today it snowed! Well it snowed a few weeks ago but I slept in and missed it. I looked outside and was semi-surprised to see some white stuff clinging to corners but it was melting fast. I was more suprised when I turned on the BBC news at six to learn that the Queen declared it a snow day.
I think that is the number one reason that a country needs a monarchy.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
04:13 a.m.
Although the way fashion is going, they will be 'the thing' in 2008. Maybe even jean overall shorts. And skorts! I mean last year at this time I would have made fun of large sweaters over leggings. I will completely admit to being a horrible person and have changed my mind about said opinion on leggings. I mean, its not REALLY because everyone is wearing them but once you've seen 200 fashionistas on the tube, you begin to think 'hey not that bad!' Its some weird sort of peer pressure/collective consciousness. Then there is the argument that, yeah they are leggings but they are DIFFERENT that said 'lame' leggings of yesteryear. These leggings, baby, they got pizazz.
Same thing happened to me and the rounded toe boot/pointy boot/flat boot. However I will never, ever embrace any sort of furry boot. Even if they have pom poms.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
04:09 a.m.
Sorry that last one was LAAAME.
Is anyone else suprised that 'lame' is still widely used? I would have thought it'd go out with "pfffft whatever", "talk to the hand", and "not!" (as well as the less popular "sych!").
I sort of try and stay away from words I used when I was twelve and thought jean overalls were bad ass.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
01:48 a.m.
Anyway wrap up of events! This list is purely for my satisfaction. After the last post I am curious to see what I did 'this year' (technically in 2006). You will be bored, these maybe vague. Warning you now.
- moved out of Toronto
- moved to London
- graduated/completed a thesis
- started a new school/started a thesis
- huge decision
- worst day of my life
- first true homecoming (dude I totally cried when I saw the tiny little lights of North York arranged in a grid structure from the plane window)
- first time had to brutally consider mortality, family and how to deal with 'things that happen only to other people'
- being truly and utterly alone
- mastered time zones
- worked a cash register/debit/credit machine
- aware/accepted/proud/unaware of my accent
- first text message!
- new obsessions: PD James mysteries, Doctor Who, free newspapers, biscuits with orange chocolate on top, white wine, Veronica Mars
- learned how to order wine in a pub/restaurant as a proper adult
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
01:34 a.m.
I really don't know if I am too self-aware for my own good (I am electively paying for a masters degree in the fine arts) but January the first is just a day. New Years Eve is just a party.
After reflecting on everyone's 'end of the year post' as well as my dad confessing that the ONE reason he hates christmas is that its the end of a year, I count myself among the indifferent.
Actually January is the middle of the year. Its that dark spot, 'hump day' of a season. Its wednesday. How can people get so worked up about a wednesday?
I realize (especially with the grad school comment above) that this terribly unoriginal perception is rooted in the fact that I am still in school. September is my new year. You 'change' grades, start new projects, new perception of self, and usually move in to a new place. You promise yourself that this year you will study/party more. You will achieve something. You buy new pencils (this is the year of blue ink!). Owing to the fact that this schedule has been drilled into any North American school child since we had a concept of time, I am actually surprised so many people can shrug it off so easily.
Interupting the narrative flow: I also vote for September as 'the new year' because it is the beginning of a season. There is a remarkable visual and tactile change in the world (if you don't live along the equator that is). And it seems like a more productive time, a time before we slide into the darkness of winter with the summer as our dessert.
I mean, what is the difference between January and December? Do people even start anything new? No. You just go to work on December 30th and then start right up again on January second. January the first is the ultimate temporal human construction. It just doesn't make any sense.
Also I just found a piece of popcorn down my shirt.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
06:45 p.m.
Home for the holidays.
It's not snowing here, either.
Friday, December 8, 2006
02:01 p.m.
Celebrity Encounters in London:
1. Namless woman in MAC store, Covent Garden. Apparently some famous British celebrity but Sarah couldn't remember her name at that particular moment ('I'll ask my mom!')
2. JUST missing Michael Jackson. Was shopping at H&M upstairs (also covent garden) and when we came back down to ground level, everyone was freaking out that MJ just walked by.
3. Walking by Amy Winehouse in Shoreditch. I'm sure you know (cause I sure didn't) that she is a musician. She was tiny and looked like she was in a trance. I didn't actually notice (I still don't know who she is), but the people I was with sure did.
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
04:39 p.m.
Living on the street level* (oh sorry in the "garden apartment") sort of sucks. Like, you have different chores... for instance at four pm I have to shut the curtains so people can't look in and see me in my pjs reading achewood. And when I go to bed I have to open the curtains but there is about a five second window before I turn out my light that all the east end drug dealers can look in and SEE ME RUNNING TOWARDS THE LIGHT SWITCH (also in my pjamas).
Though I have magic sub-curtains (also called veiling/netting or whatnot) under the REAL curtains so I can see out during the day, but no one can see me (invisibility cloak!). That is until I turn on a light.
* I actually live a little below street level just like two feet so its not really a basement but I am not higher/straight on the pavement. Which means I get interesting views of people's knees all day long.
Another fun fact: my friend who lives in the other "wing" of our apartment complex is actually ON street level. I can knock on her window. But in the b for boonies block I have a little moat between myself and the street... its like three foot deep gap with a tall spikey cast iron fence. FORTRESS!
Thursday, November 30, 2006
12:56 a.m.
Alright, a pointless blog before I go to bed.
I have become severely addicted to a mid-nineties british drama called "This Life." Its like Aly McBeal without the absurd comedy or The Practice without the law. Anyway, for some reason the BBC digs into their archives and plays two episodes every night at midnight. This is very dangerous. Example: monday - nonaddict and barely heard of the series. Wednesday: throwing things at the tv and yelling "DUMB BITCH!" at one in the morning to fictional characters who a) 'lived' ten years ago and b) can't hear me through the magic picture box (not yet at least).
Oh and c) am very upset I won't be in London during Christmas when they have their ten year reunion special.
On a side note: pouring boiling water down the drain DID kill the drain-fly colony, much to my relief.
Hopefully tomorrow I will do something exciting like buy groceries or trip over Christina Agulera.
I guess I could talk about my thesis and incredible, crushing anxiety but thats a little dull. Needless to say I am incredibly busy this week but its alllll over next week! Hurrah! Holidays!
Sunday, November 26, 2006
05:04 p.m.
I should ALSO also mentioned that, while writing the glamourous account of my night out, I have been pooring boiling water down my drains to kill the moth/drain flies that are infesting the bathroom. Please envy my life!
Sunday, November 26, 2006
05:01 p.m.
Sorry, I should have added that this entry is a nice, non-alcohol account of the evening. A scientific and objective look with proper details and fact-checking.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
04:41 p.m.
One of the largest misconceptions I had about London was that, oh man, we can party all night. I mean, its a 'world class' city! Lindsay Lohan is always here for some reason! It's the NYC of this half of the Atlantic!
For some reason, however, you cannot serve alcohol after midnight (or even after eleven) or you can in certain bars but they will eventually kick you out anyway. And the tube stops at midnight as well.
Usually what happens is we get kicked out of one bar and find somewhere else to party. Usually one is a bit tipsy at this point so these second, late night and 'cooler' bars/clubs are always a surreal experience. Friday night we ended up in the club where aforementioned Lohan goes to party.
And, my lord, I've never seen so many drunken English people in one place. It was like someone recorded a new soundtrack in a Toronto club (it looks the same... smells the same...). Also drunken asshole guys at dance clubs translates very well across cultures (a dude even threw his DRINK in my friend's face -- Come now chap, that tis'nt sporting). Instead of getting into a duel, we left to sit in in the 'lounge' and I had some coke (ooo! I know! killer me!) but it came IN A BOTTLE. So thats partying in London... coke out of fancy BOTTLES.
The bar we went to beforehand (for someone's bday) was super packed and dedicated to antique foozeball tables (not sure what the English translation is). FRENCH antique foozeball tables. And those little wooden dudes are TERRIFYING when they are roughly scuptled of wood 100 years ago by a murderous drunken french pirate (or whoever produced french anitque foozeball tables at the time). It was so packed it was tropical... they had fans going and everyone was sweating and drinking Corona. It was quite the Carribean oasis in a semi-tepid November eve.
oh yeah! And everyone drinks in ROUNDS. I haven't been out drinking in a proper group of brits yet (even then we still consisted of an Aussie, A Czech Repub-ugh-lican and me). So basically one person buys everyones drinks. Then when you are almost finished, the next person buys all the drinks. So basically I just had to go up to the bar once. Which is nice, but then you blow £18 ($36) at once. Which is a sobering reminder that you are in an aforementioned 'world class city'.
End of story: we Eastenders leave the group going for 'after drinks' at Ebony's flat and make our way home. Which is interesting to do at two in the morning. And for some reason cabs wouldn't take us to Mile End. So wandering around the city for an hour we spot a '25' (night bus) and hope on, hoping its not to Wimbleton or Bath or somewhere. And we get home. Along with the 300 other people on the bus (mini party on its own). Hurrah!
Oh yeah and I was wearing my killer heel boots. To all those who party at York: them be the books which I will take off and walk barefoot through the campus, risking syphillis and broken glass to give my arches a break. However, London dirt is even more scarier (thats how the plague spreads!) so I soildered on.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
03:55 a.m.
Weee! Drunken entry! WE walked pass the club where Lindsay Lohan was! We were going to go in but it was too late. Closing time. So we weselled our way into another one. And then, due to someone's drunken logic (not mine! I swear!) we walked around "the city" for an hour looking for a bus/cab to take us home. Its hard to convince cabbys to take you. La it da.
But the two places we went were fun. I am getting use to the 'roound' system of British Drinking.
We also went dancing and danced on stage till some asshole threw a drink in Romanas face. Before that they were playing awesome oldies to dance too. OH! AND THEY SERVE COKE IN BOTTLES! HOW COOL!!!!
Friday, November 24, 2006
03:05 p.m.
Sleep cheating me out of 1/2 of my afternoon. Honest. I was going to get up when the little "am" light on my clock radio was shiny brightly but I somehow FELL BACK ASLEEP and dreamed I woke up, wrote my sign to the postman and went to the doctors. Of course this was in weird dreamland where there were funnerals and some pork walking around but I was still grounded in someone's reality.
Anyway not only have I done NOTHING its three pm (well... I got up at two and have been writing emails since...).
Wow this blog sort of reads like I just arrived in the UK. I guess writing three entries in three months will do that. Also the fact I haven't registered with a DOCTOR yet. Heh heh oops. The wonderful healthcare system is FREE here (even for foreign kids, such as myself) but you have to register. Basically I was a walking gamble of bacteria/virsus waiting to pounce. But I'm going today! Hurrah! I will beable to recieve treatment if I fall under a bus!
Speaking of disease, they found "legionella" in our school the other day (which is the bacteria that leads to Legionnaire Disease). It basically hangs around in the water vapour of warm standing water. Considering England is basically warm, standing water (in a good way!) this is a bit worrying. However we were assured it was only found in the screenprinting room so its only those kids studying Illustration that have a problem.
So just incase there are any other bacteria that was killing off old men in a Philidephia hotel during a Legionnaire's conference in the 1970's... I'm getting a doctor. And I didn't even have to wikipedia that ... we watched a legionnaire's disease documentary in highschool for a class and reason that has been forgotten in time.
Friday, November 24, 2006
02:04 a.m.
Things that England Does Not Have (at least in any great quantities/regularity so that I must reprogram my habits):
- Ziploc bags (they have fake ones with a weak glue but it does not keep the mold out!)
- plain Cheerios
- Kraft Dinner (or any substitute)
- sausages in buns
- buttermilk
- BBQ chips (or sorry crips)
- tissue that does not cost $4 a box
- abundance of fresh water
- Montery Jack cheese
- Gilmore Girls (Italy has GG however)
Things England DOES Have:
- sausages off a bun
- a queen
- roasted chestnuts on the street
- Stephen Fry
- cookies that have orange chocolate on the top with cookie on the bottom (OH baby!)
- status in the EU
to be continued...
Wednesday, November 8, 2006
10:46 p.m.
Oh! I bought an official atlas. A nice atlas. Actually my uncle owns the same Altas and when I was little I thought it was the 'biggest book in the world" - a fact I didnt really consider when I ordered if from Amazon.
So if anyone is trying to find Carmen Sandeigo I can totally hook you up.
Wednesday, November 8, 2006
10:35 p.m.
What is this? An entry? A Renaissance in blogging? Oh my!
So, using the Britney/Federline divorce as a benchmark, I've decided to start writing again. Because, I am dying to agree with Jane and say that, in some small way, the world makes sense again.
I'm not going to even get into how it was finally a trashy divorce and not the fact I moved across an ocean which got me blogging again.
Sorry I'm having a bit of trouble writing. I'm getting into podcasts now and its disorienting to type while someone is 'talking' to you.
Hurrah London!
Monday, September 11, 2006
12:24 a.m.
Off to England tomorrow. Pip pip and all that.
Tuesday, July 4, 2006
11:51 p.m.
I can't believe I thought I was fat in highschool.
And I know, "TEENAGE GIRLS THINK THEY ARE FAT!!" is not going to win any pultizers for investigative journalism but, well, its true.
Ok so on a scale of 1-10 (1 being "overconfident pudge spilling over low rise jeans and crop tops*" and 10 being girls with bodymorphic disorders) I was, probably, like, a four. Girls in the four catagory believe that their bodies wouldn't cut it in hollywood. They probably own one bikini but were self conscious and prefer one piece. They also take the "screw it" attitude, and trade these imperfections for the pleasure of eating a Wunderbar any damn time she pleases.
Fucking stupid bitch. I now say. You should have worn something clingy more often. I guess my body image has risen to a 6 on the scale (as I add a few pounds). While I still refrain from dieting or, really, any excercise I suddenly feel incredibly guilty over anything delicious. I also eat salad and feel sad I will never wear a bikini again.
So my message to teenage girls: enjoy it now... you will be fat(ter) in your twenties.
* I am all for body confidence but seriously, that is just tacky no matter what your weight/bmi
Monday, June 26, 2006
06:31 p.m.
Oh another fun item relating to the coolness of crossing boarders. On the inside of your passport is a message from the Foreign Affairs Minister or Leutenant Govener or somesuch figurehead begging the customs official to please let the bearer, a citizen of the Dominion of Canada, pass through the boarders unmolested and offer every protection to their journey in the name of her majesty, the Queen. Its like Lord of the Rings or something.
Monday, June 26, 2006
06:21 p.m.
I'm trying to get this thing up and running again. But all I do is fill out applications all day long. Housing Applications. Scholarship Applications. Loan Applications. Bank account applications. International Banking Applications. The biggie, or my VISA ap, the one upon which everything relies, is still in a holding pattern.
I'm scared that if I say I'm entering the country on a specific date and then fail to obtain plane tickets for that day, I will not be allowed into the country. Dun dun daaaaaa. It sounds so grand and ambitious. You know, the customs agent frowns, the gates slam shut, portculius lowered, mounted knights block my path and I am denied passage across these fair borders. And once you're denied entry at a port, from then on your passport will forever be extra scurtinzed.
While terrifying I have to say that, in my rather small uneventful life, it is rather exciting that I am dealing with such big things as being barred from a Western power.
Other fun VISA fact. As a security measure they PLAINLY ASK, yes or no, if you are a terrorist. Being paranoid I often quadruple check this question to MAKE SURE my rather sarcastic sense of humour subconsciously got the better of me, and I haven't checked "yes." Because, I really really want to.
To all agents of her majesty, if my background check reveals this blog I am not, nor ever been involved in ANY terrorist activity anywhere in my entire life and past lives. Please please please please accept my application.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
10:55 a.m.
Dude seriously?! Updating?!
So what have I been up to... um graduating, visiting large cities, and getting a job. But not a real job, I'm a grad student remember.
I've been watching a lot of soccer. I think I can safely say soccer is the one sport I can watch with interest. Not because its a noble game enjoyed by millions where nations can play out their historical conflicts in a neat 90 min. televised session. No. Mostly because it seems pretenious and cool to say you are a soccer fan in Canada. Without being Italian.
Other reasons:
a) soccer players are fun to look at usually because they are either really hot (and their uniforms arent really ridiculous) or really ridiculous looking. There is no inbetween.
b) soccer announcer-men are the best ever (only the real British ones however, the World Cup Americian TSN guys don't count). Instead of quickly listing off players and the position of the ball, they delve into a bit of descriptive prose once in a while. ("And as the hot Tunsian sun beats down on our heros, their crushed spirits suddenly raised to the lofty heavens (by angels/cheribums/seraphins etc.) as the ball delicately archs over the anguished fingers of keeper as he...") And you think I exaggerate.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
04:01 a.m.
Not that I want to loose touch with everyone. It just that, no matter intentions or how hard you try, we really remain friends with the strangest and most unexpected people.
You fuckers better visit me.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
03:53 a.m.
So it seems like we are at an end.
It really feels final... which is strange as life doesnt end after University. Quoting a million class speakers "it is only a beginning." I would like to challenge this assumption. When else in your life will you be able to sleep in till noon five days a week and then stay up till four? When else will excessive alcohol consumption be encourgaed? When else will all the possibilities in the universe be laid out at your feet (cliche) and you are capabilities are endless? What really begins is reality. Regrets. A life that doesnt conform to your dreams.
Holy shit that is depressing. I apologize to all my fellow graduates but I really want to impress upon everyone that this is an end. But I suppose it isnt the final good thing in life. Not even close. Just something different. Like, no exams ever again.
I just have to say goodbye to my time. University was made for me, my temperment suits it perfectly. I am sad that it is over and I have to start readapting. Of course this is a bit ... um... retarded as I am going to grad school.
What I really wanted to say is that in the past week I have had two lengthy significant conversations (thanks Derek, Kathleen) and look forward to more. Everyone is suddenly so meaningful. I guess we all get deep and sincere the moment we start to drift apart and become superficial friendships. One last hurrah.
Don't mind me I'm drunk.
This entry brought to you by: Green Day's "Time of Your Life" (which is perhaps the most depressing thing in this entire entry. Ugh).
Monday, March 6, 2006
03:06 p.m.
Dear teenage girls, your eyebrows look like shit.
Wednesday, February 8, 2006
01:13 p.m.
Ready-made, plug-n'-play content? Sign me up!
Four jobs I've had:
Hostess
Data Entry-ist
Receptionist
Junior Designer
Four Movies I can watch over and over:
Bridget Jones' Diary
Princess Bride
Swing Kids
(P.S I watch the crappiest movies over and over, not necessarily my favourite movies)
Four Places I've Lived:
Hamilton, Ontario
Ancaster, Ontario
Toronto, Ontario
Four TV shows I love:
Arrested Development
Gilmore Girls
Scrubs
House
(also random British crime dramas on showcase)
Four places I've vacationed
Paris, France
Vancouver Island, British Columbia
random cottage, Prince Edward Island
East Coast of USA
Four of my favorite dishes:
chicken souvalki in a pita w/hot sauce and taziki (sp)
cashew chicken @ East
Schnitzel
Lithuanian Perogies
Four sites I visit daily:
Ain't It Cool News
Achewood
Speak Up
Various Blogs of Friends.
Four places I would rather be right now:
Napping on my couch in Ancaster
Reading Harry Potter on a spider-free chair @ cottage
Drinking in the 505/various Hamilton house parties
At the beach in Longpt.
Four bloggers I'm tagging/slightly alienating:
Hollie (gets double)
Scott (cause he won't do it and probably kick me in the stomach after he finishes his crit with Janzcak and reads this blog online)
Lydia
Derek (free, giveaway content for updating and his answers will probably be worth it)
I would like to add that I never watch movies over and over unless its on tv. I submit that it should be changed to books (Harry Potter, Reading Lolita in Tehran, Agatha Christie, Bryson... and then some!)
Friday, January 27, 2006
02:07 a.m.
Ok... think I'm going to pass out from anxiety now.
I apologize to anyone I am going to snap at in the next fourteen days (random number).
Man, life would be so much easier with an assistant/servant/slave (hinthint my birthday is coming up in May!)
Sunday, January 22, 2006
02:42 a.m.
Everyone should be proud: I have driven "downtown" in "the city." Well it wasnt quite downtown/downtown but I was definately riding over streetcar tracks. That is pretty south, my friend. Heap awards and honours on me!
I need to find someone who shares my interest in 3-4 am. I mean, they are good hours, people! The wee hours are slowly loosing popularity. I guess that means we are growing older.
Final random update: I have discovered the joy of the Food Network. Holy bejesus I must have watched it for five hours today (while doing other things, mind, but it was definately on all afternoon). Why did I ever think cooking shows are boring?! Theory: now, being a student and eating cereal for dinner, I vicariously "eat" through the television. Mmmm well-lit, highly saturated smoked pork loin with a side of grilled salad.
I will say it: Peter Sarsgaard is the American and slightly creepy Colin Firth. And Josh Lucas is hot for "layin' down" a man who insulted "his woman". This is the week of random, lesser known celebrities!
VOTE!
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
11:48 p.m.
Dec. 13 = Santa Claus Facts
1. "Santa's Slay": movie staring that pregnant chick from Lost where Santa is evil and kills strippers. And Angels.
2. Chronicals of Narnia... what?
3. Santa and God apparently share the same apartment IN YOUR LOCAL STATE!!!! (
"Letters to God can be addressed in the same way replacing 'Santa Claus' with 'God'.")
Friday, November 4, 2005
01:59 p.m.
Also, last night was spent drinking a surprising amount of wine, beer (half a bottle but that's surprising for me), and "Sketchy Scotts": a drink my friend Kathleen made up which contained Peach Shnapps, Amoretto, and Lemon Lime Crystal Light (basically anything she could find in a cupboard).
The actual "surprising" part is that we just hung out on her couch and watched the crappiest tv till 3 a.m. We decided "enough is enough" after realizing that:
a) the buzz is wearing off
b) we were watching Little Nicky and LAUGHING
Friday, November 4, 2005
01:54 p.m.
Look its November!
Our school almost went on strike this week. Almost. It was sort of like waiting for a snow day. Everyone was a little jittery and "well it would suck if we went on strike because it cuts into our education and education is REAL important." But then, secretly inside, we were all shouting "STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE!"* I mean, just because I am twenty-two doesn't mean there isn't a hidden tweleve year old inside who likes to have no school. Plus we were all going to hit up Montreal with all the extra time on our hands.
* the exception to this rule is Lydia, my friend who is a don: "How would you like to supervise 400 bored first years who have nothing to do but hang out in residence and see how drunk they can get?!"
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
05:29 a.m.
What a day.
Two hours in transit. Four hours of class. Four hours in the lab. Eight hours of carrying a 40" by 30" piece of paper around. One all nighter. One friend who jumped on a sign and then cracked his head open. One bloody bathtub.
Oh, and I stepped on a dead bird.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
02:02 a.m.
Oh other favourite part of the week:
I somehow watched twelve hours of Carnivale in two days.
Putting tv shows on DVDs is a bad idea. Bad. Horrible. Bad.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
01:57 a.m.
So I got a new disposable toothbrush...
(side story: by "got" I mean it was sitting on the counter when I went home for thanksgiving. There were three of them lined up in a row -- one for each of the homecoming siblings. The funny part, besides the fact that it felt like a hotel, was that all three toothbrushes were in different colours. Like, somehow, hundreds of kilometers apart, Mark, Alana and I would mix up our toothbrushes and get sibling cooties or something).
Anyways this one has a motor. Yeah yeah, I've had all kinds of electric toothbrushes before but this one is different. While very thorough, its also very quiet and svelt. Its like using a regular toothbrush! This was my favourite part of the week.
It's the little things that count.
Wednesday, October 5, 2005
02:02 a.m.
I am just incuring wrath all over the place.
Or is it encuring?
Sunday, September 25, 2005
01:06 a.m.
So I really have to redo this whole "journal" page thing. But, unlike others, I have no time on my hands. Well thats not true. Unlike others I mismanage my time.
Did you know that the human brain is not hardwired to think of new ideas? Thus whenever we are being creative, we are working against nature. This little gem is also why we can't create anything out of thin air. Works of art, science, culinary genuis and literature all have some foundation. Being creative is just mixing up unexpected inspirations. Taking old ideas and combining them into new ones. Now, just IMAGE... all the effort you put into something to make it "original" and it will never be PURE 100% uncut original. You cannot make something out of nothing.
Just imagine the mind power it would take to come up with something truly "new". Man it would probably be so cool. Just Imagine how shiny it would be.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
01:05 a.m.
Fun way to freak yourself out: scroll down your non-archieved blog and realize that, by golly, at the beginning of this thing you were APPLYING to unversity. Now you're not only leaving it but APPLYING to masters programs.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
12:42 a.m.
Man, I just realized I am going to be such a hardass to my kids.
Generally, I think of myself as quite the doormat. I take things. I don't like to cause trouble, I'll do what you say and sit quietly in a corner. You may think of me as an animate indoor palm plant (because we all know I never go outdoors).
However whenever I have to give advice, I'm usually one bullied kindergardeners, diabetics and grieving widows to "suck it up."
For instance my sister is taking a fianance class that is looking a bit hard. Now, we all know I'd be out of there in a second, A SECOND. In fact I've spent the better part of three weeks getting out of displeasing classes. However, maybe from some perverse vicarious feeling, I need to make people do hard things. You know things that build character and/or grows hair on your chest.
Then again I also take perverse pleasure staying up all night perfecting perfect projects which is extremely unplesant. And, you know, studying for days on end. And doing stupid difficult things to prove people wrong. Shit. This arguement isnt turning out at all.
Well, I'm still going to be monster bitch mother. Piano lessons for all! Tears only double your practice hours!
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
08:37 a.m.
What's this? The return of the in-class entry? Bee jeez!
Yesterday one of my profs used the word "fisticuffs" in a non-ironic-just-an-old-man-regular-way. As in "He taught the lion fisticuffs".
Sorry, thats it. Attendence has started and I'm the only moron to sit on the side where the teacher can see your monitor (seriously I'm sitting by myself in a row of computers).
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
01:35 p.m.
SO my brother is on vacation in Florida: land of hurricanes, shark attacks and pirate mini-golf. The first thing he does when he arrives? Makes a webpage.
They have at least two laptops there. So it will be no surprise when they return with no tan.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
11:31 a.m.
A message to everyone who will see me in the next three days:
You know how sometimes, right before you try something new for the first time, you think "Maybe applying self-tanner is my hidden talent... maybe I will be naturally awesome at fake golden glows!"
I think I can cross "worlds natural self-tanner expert" off my list of hidden talents.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
06:16 p.m.
What happens when you move to a large city and don't know anyone:
Arriving home from work, you must stand outside your front lawn for half an hour because there is a giant spider on the door.
You make a run for it and somehow get into the house.
You laugh manically because the Raid "spiderblaster" spray is sitting on the front hall table.
Sneakily, you exit from the building from the back door to give this spider its comeupance.
Douce spider in Raid, loose it in the ensuing battle/shreak-fest.
Unnerved but not unbroken, head to the back door.
Realize you locked yourself out of the building.
Stand outside on front lawn for another ten minutes.
Sneak around various neighbouring houses, knock on the kitchen window, scaring neighbour shitless. Neighbour lets you in.
Write a blog about it because you have no one else to talk to.
** note: you probably thinking i'm exaggerating the spider but it really was a biggie. Hairy and all that. I mean if it was smaller I'd probably only waste 15 mins. on it but no: this was garden variety. I could SEEE the red eyes people.
Saturday, August 6, 2005
06:13 p.m.
You would think, living on my own in a new city, I'd be recording my new experiences. You would think, that with all this time on my hands, I would be more than happy to update daily. However, laziness and free time are a direct relationship.
Here are some Ottawa observations:
a) This place is sooo English it hurts. I mean, you would think that since I can see Quebec from any downtown street, they would have a bit of continential flare but nooooo... pubs on every corner. Do you know how hard it is to find an Italian restaurant?
b) For all its Angelo-tude, there are also tons of shwarma places.
c) The bus drivers have photographic memories. Despite the hundreds of faces they see every day, all "my" drivers (four in total: two in the morning, two at night) recognize me. This isn't even self-delusion brought on my lonliness. They comment on the books I'm reading. They say "see you tomorrow" when I exit.
d) Crazy old people everywhere. And apparently they all like my shoes.
e) Toronto looks so dangerous from over here. Every morning I watch the Ottawa news/Toronto news (simultaneously). Ottawa news: Sherbrook Family Farm has a new waterworks station for the kids! Toronto news: six people were shot last night. Seriously, over ten people have been murdered in Tdot since I came here. And they were all in the area where I live. There have been six murders in Ottawa this year.
Sorry, I am being interupted.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
05:18 p.m.
Someone is decieving fruitflies.
Everyday there are a hundred fruitflies crawling around the (bottom, only bottom part) of the window. Since glass, dust and windex crust is inedible, the little black dots die off in the night and become become dead little black dots on the floor. Its actually pretty disgusting. But apparently, the "window of death" news does not travel well with fruitflies because they always come back. Always! Magic, just like Harry Potter.
Thursday, July 7, 2005
01:08 a.m.
Ok I have to pen, even though it is a flithy habit that has killed various playwrights, I bite my pen caps. Actually it is quite disgusting. And if you lend me a pen for an extended period of time (or for three hours while I write an exam): well sorry buddy but it will be chewed to shit.
Related story: In highschool I never use to bite my nails. It simply wasn't a temptation. And then in the SAME week my best friend QUIT biting her nails, I started. Nervous tick? Or contagious disease?
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
01:47 p.m.
Normal things that are missing from my brother's house:
1. salt
2. knives
3. conditioner
4. hair dryer
5. iron
6. telephone
7. garbage cans
Things that are in abundance at my brother's house:
1. computer monitors
2. power bars
3. mess
4. cheese cruds
5. tv channels (Rogers on Demand too)
6. strange smells
7. beer bottles
8. posters of fighter jets
9. shopping carts
10. ten skinny cartons of 2% milk (all belonging to one roomate who bought them all yesterday at the store)
Thursday, June 23, 2005
03:46 p.m.
Select Moments in Ottawa (thus far):
Walking downstairs and finding my brothers two roomates eating bonbons while watching tv.
Overheard Warcraft conversation: "Man, Dave and this chick got into a fight over some ore...she got kicked out of the guild."
Even after being seperated, the novelty Mexican Jumping Beans keep moving!!! I'm going to encase them in lead next.
Apparently the fear of ordering food over the telephone is genetic as both Mark and I fought over who was going to call the Chinese Food place.
Yelling "it's a trap!" while Mark is stratgizing with team mates over the mic.
Overheard Warcraft conversation #2: "My fucking shaman will beat your warrior's ass... faggot."
Thursday, June 23, 2005
12:38 a.m.
Alternate Universe Story #1
Getting on the plane to Ottawa, I hand over my purse to security where they promptly pulled out my xacto knife. Dangerous, dangerous, graphic designers.
So I am now sitting on the brother's couch watching Gilmore Girls at one a.m. His place is cliche student messy. It makes the 505 look...well... clean (however o be honest, this is the "summer of clean").
Night!
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
01:46 a.m.
Ok. On April 24, 2004 I wrote: "I opened my window and now my room reeks of summer." Why didn't anyone stop me!
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
01:34 a.m.
Ok. Running late for class (check). Thunderstorm (check). Coincidential pairing of white coat, khaki pants and flip flops? (check). Giant field and construction site (check). Arriving twenty minutes late, covered in mud (check). Major presentation in front of entire class? ... thats a check.
Today there was a graduation ceremony (Bachelor of Arts, names starting with A-F standing in a gravel parking lot awaiting for diplomas). The reception, for some reason, was in the TEL building AKA building I had my class in. Which was wonderful as there was tons and tons of food all over the place and they seemed to hire buffet attendents that could not tell the difference between grubby design kids in hawaiian shorts and halter tops and sophisticated, beaming graduates in formal attire. Since our class consisted entirely of presentations ("when I click on this button here...right...here... you will see a new window opens there ...no...there"), people kept sneaking out and returning with paper plates of smoked meat and large pieces of cake.
Monday, May 30, 2005
04:00 a.m.
Look at me! I'm famous!
Thursday, May 26, 2005
08:09 p.m.
Ok, I'm not a 100% sure, but I think I just saw a Shaolin Monk walking down the side walk.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
01:32 a.m.
Being a holiday weekend, I went home to enjoy clean floors and highschool parties. I suppose the party on Saturday would be considered the "highlight" but only because it was a mini-reunion and thus got to fullfill the only reason I would ever go to a reunion*: seeing what haircuts people now have.
* reason being: not that I hated highschool but keep in touch with almost everyone I would WANT to see at a highschool reunion.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
02:42 a.m.
22. Had a shot of tequila.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
01:43 a.m.
Is it entirely sad that I feel so proud for walking to the bookstore today to buy envelopes? I mean, that took a good 40 minutes out of my life.
Friday, May 13, 2005
12:01 a.m.
Today I learned:
- there is a charity called "Guns for Tots"
- I am not, nor ever been, OCD (not even close)
- there is an "India Town" in Toronto
- that if I want to talk properly I have to take five seconds to realllly think it over
- that Hanna and Crystal were really drunk last night
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
12:48 p.m.
Also: I cant believe that what started out as the intention of writing a quick entry (we finally have milk!) has turned into a critique of living arrangments, roomates, mess, and cheese.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
12:46 p.m.
Ok the roomate has informed me (and now says that I shouldnt bother) but this is a bastion of accurate reporting so I should correct myself. We do have food. We have a lot of frozen pork chops, chicken breast (which are freezer burned) and roasted garlic potatoes.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
12:35 p.m.
I kind of feel bad about the weak compliment to our third roomate, the scott. Its true, everything in the scott's room is at 90 degree angles but somehow, he handles the way we all live pretty well. I mean, normal people would have left by now but he doesnt seem to mind (unless he drops sarcastic pointed comments).
Anyway Scott is good. He lets me borrow paper, checks over my design work, brings his car around and drives us places, does headstands when he is drunk. Oh and has a MASSIVE collection of DVDs.
Here is a tip for those people leaving a dorm and finding roomates: find people who share your opinion on the cartoon: SeaLab 2021. Its probably genetic.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
12:19 p.m.
I really have been neglecting this thing.
Currently, I am living in Toronto with the roomate who is actually a pretty good roomate. Case in point: he doesnt mind when the apartment is a mess or when we have to eat sausage buns for dinner because I am too lazy to go grocery shopping. That kind of thing would bug normal people but since he is equally messy and too lazy to go grocery shopping either, it works. I mean its annoying, and unfun but you really have to take a "oh what are you going to do about it" approach. Our other roomate, bless him he's great too, is more of a "can't we live like decent human beings".
I actually did have a sausage bun for dinner yesterday.
Now, before my mother starts crying (why do all her children disapoint her?) I should say we did go shopping last night and bought "normal" food. Greens, cold cuts, cheap cola, milk, bread, various cheeses (none with the word "American" in the title) etc. I even bought cake mix.
Neat fact: the one thing we never ever have (and keep in mind we have fifty different spices and various glazes for meats) is milk. I constant have to improvise or not make things with milk. And when we have milk (luxury of luxury) it is usually old. Today we have milk.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
12:13 p.m.
At the beginning of this year I started to keep a word file of everything to remember. Not just big things like "oh I graduated this year" or "oh I killed a clown", but the small important stuff that is always fun to look back on. At least fun for those girls who kept scrap books during grade 11 (instant present for 16 year old girls: buy a diary with dolphins on the front).
Anyways I kind of forgot about this list around Feburary. Thus if anyone needs detailed records for the winter/fall, I am your woman.
Example of item on list: our, apparently "unoffical" door code that lets anyone in the building. I had trouble remembering this even when it did work.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
02:08 a.m.
Ok. How come it feels like I finished school a week ago when I only had my last exam today? And how come, after 14 hours of BEING done, I am still so very, very stressed out. Is that physiologically possible?
It has to be said: they are so cute.
It has to be said: I am so tired.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
04:03 p.m.
Ok I had the weirdest reoccurring dream last night. It was like a mini-series. The basic premise was that I was an astronaught and it was really no big deal. It was like my summer job and now that I was back in school I was just a student again. No one was like "whoa! space girl" or anything. Plus, I got to fly the ship when I was an astronaught so thats even cooler. Anyways, this is all background information. Right now I'm in school.
And it turns out to be the anniversary that this other spacecraft blew up (like Apollo 13 without the happy ending) and a bunch of my friends were on the crew. You know, on account that I use to be an astronaught.
So basically I was walking around York Campus/TEL building crying all day with people whispering "Oh! You don't know? She was an astronaught and knew those people on that ship."
There was also something with Erin McCluskey having a silly festival at Pond Road Residence but again, I was just trying not to cry the whole time.
Oh yeah and at the beginning of the dream I had no idea about any of this astronaught stuff until Dan or Scott came up to me and said something like "Wow, are you going to be ok today? Because, you know, you were an astronaught and knew all those people." To which I replied "Oh, right... yeah!".
Then I woke up, realized it was seven o'clock and laughed because I didn't have anything to do today but study. So I went back to sleep.
More astronaught dreams. Time seemed to have rewound itself because now I was an astronaught and was in a similar position as the Apollo 13 crew except, unlike my future colleagues and like Tom Hanks, we all survived even though the Chinese guy from Law and Order SVU was in the crew and his hair was on fire.
Also our spaceship was a Buick LeSabre for a small point in time(NASSA!). It seemed to have transformer like qualities. Oh! And apparently someone had sabotaged the spaceship and that was the big mystery (never to be solved actually).
Then I woke up again, it was ten o'clock but all that was waiting for me was psych notes so I promptly fell back asleep.
This time things get a bit wild. I'm back on the "anniversary of some people's death" but now I'm in the park by my house and everyone is there: York and High school friends. Even you. You were there too. And its some kind of festival. Then some geek source material gets crossed and Patrick Stewarts jumps out of the crowd with a light saber yelling "I'm going to kill the astronaught!". Then I pull out a light saber (I guess NASA just gives them away) and we have the whole "hero v. villain" dialogue. Then the crowd rushes Patrick Stewart and I just walk home, a little sad I didn't get to use my light saber.
That was pretty much the end. There were a few other subplots and flash-backs but its too incongruent to actually write down.
I guess the point of the story is: I want to be an astronaught now.
Also I wasted the entire morning and early afternoon either dreaming or writing about the dream. Take that psychology!
Friday, February 11, 2005
01:37 a.m.
Some things...
Today I bought a pair of sunglasses and wore them around. Uninteresting except for the fact I refused to take them off when it got dark so I would be constantly tripping and freaking people out on the bus. As Erin said, when I prompted her to rate my sexiness, "Ugh... you look blind."
The lid on my toilet must always be kept DOWN. That bathroom is smaller than my closet and thus things are likely to fall in.
It really is smaller than my closet.
To celebrate Black History Month, Toronto1 (local tv station) aired "The Princess Bride".
Sunday, January 30, 2005
02:29 p.m.
I woke up today and my brain was going nuts for some reason. It felt like I had travelled far away somewhere and couldn't connect the sight to my apartment to the thought of it.
Anyways I've figured it out.
Last week (in the dead of the Canadian winter) we finally got our heat turned on. The trick is that the radiators in the bedrooms are broken so you CANNOT TURN THEM OFF. If you turn them off, then NO MORE HEAT EVER.
So after seven days of continuous heat pouring into my bedroom, I cracked a window. Just a crack, mind you. It's still -15 outside.
The result? Well its still really hot (a crack in a window has NOTHING on this radiator) but it smells like "the outdoors" (or how "outdoors" it gets in North York). So when I woke up I thought it was summer. Seriously for ten minutes. Thats what was so disorienting - my entire room smelled like summer.
You cannot believe the low I hit when I realized it was January.
editor's note: this was suppose to be a three sentence entry - you know the throw away ones just so you could say "yeah I updated". I'm sorry so many words were wasted describing something that no one cares about.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
02:38 p.m.
Guestspeaker: "Well at my internship placement they used Photoshop for all their type."
120 people gasp.
I am not joking about this.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
03:17 p.m.
Currently, I am using orange toothpaste. Like bright, HiC colour toothpaste. It was a stocking stuffer. It tastes disguising but when you rinse your mouth, it looks like you just drank a gallon of Cplus.
Also, I want to include this for prosterity... its Jan and 17C outside. I could almost ALMOST go swimming.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
02:48 a.m.
P.S alcohol also effects my fashion choice as right now I am wearing a pink nightie with red plaid pjama pants. I know what you're thinking: hoooooot!
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
02:44 a.m.
I've found that alcohol effects my short term memory rather than long term memory. For instance I can remember an entire night of partying in a flash but when i put on a song, then forget the song is on, then get freaked out because i keep hearing noises? Well... it has to be the vino, right?
(side note: I should have said six dollar champaign but since i can't spell champagne or "howard the lonely blog" I just changed it so fuck you and your nay saying)
Wednesday, December 8, 2004
02:05 a.m.
Okay I have to make the argument that sitting at the back of the bus was awesome as it was the bumpy-est seats in the house (or er bus). And we all know that kids love anything that flings them around. There use to be this huge pothole on Golf Links that would send anyone in the last three rows flying! Strange fact: after riding the bus for over ten years my body has a certain memory for that experience... seriously sometimes I'll be driving my nice smooth Intrepid and tense up at the exact spot where the bump use to be. I should note that half way through highschool the goverment caught wind of this fantastic ride and promptly paved over the bump - consequently ending my childhood right there and then.
Saturday, December 4, 2004
03:17 a.m.
Two snowmen standing in a field. One says to the other, can you smell carrots?
Friday, November 19, 2004
06:39 a.m.
This is the product of being in a depressed mood and deciding to drink. THe following is an entirely onesided arguement and just something I needed to see in print. And I had nowhere else to print it.
Reasons I will not suceed in design:
- do no challenge myself
- do no have confidence in work
- to scared to think of real solutions
- procrastinate
- imposter
- scared to think about attempting anything new
- have never really truly liked anything I have done. Ever.
- keep comparing myself to others.
- cannot see the forest from the trees.
- simply do not have "it"
Am so fucking scared right now it is unbelievable.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
01:27 p.m.
Ok is it sad and pathetic that it I spent 30 mins hiding my head under the covers, whining because its too early to go to class? When class is at 2:30?
I think I would live in sleep if I could.
Personal note: Jessica (oh one who hates sleep!). You can train yourself to only sleep like three hours. I learnt this in psych and immediately thought of you.
Friday, November 5, 2004
01:36 a.m.
Second year: brought to you by Mr. Noodles and Futurama
Wednesday, November 3, 2004
04:11 a.m.
Did you know that, left to its own devices, your body will naturally want to stay up later and wake up later? So eventually your sleep cycle will rotate around the clock. So my gradual progress from sleeping in till 12pm and now 2pm coupled with my inability to go to sleep till 2am and now 4am is completely natural.
Psychology: validating my student lifestyle.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
01:07 a.m.
Is it pathetic that i'm sad that a fictional character died? I mean, we know that our own own lives are pretty precious but who would have thought that made-up people could be so fragile as well? Maybe even more so... its easier to kill them off.
Good bye Tim Speedle... I will miss yelling "whats with today, today?" and "Superb" at you every monday on CSI Miami.
Friday, September 17, 2004
11:56 p.m.
This story deserves its own little entry...
On Wednesday (thanks to Rosh Hashana - no classes after 7pm till Monday morning) a group of us headed downtown to eat, consume alcohol and hopefully bump into various celebrities (girls: Orlando Bloom and boys: Elisha Cuthbert).
We wound up in this small little lounge where the classy female bouncer informed us there is a private party upstairs which is off limits (which was later confirmed by Erin where she went upstairs to use a washroom and was confronted by two larger classic bouncers).
Anyway this place was wild - no schizophrenic. For instance: mainstream crap rap or hiphop music interwoven with extreme indie rock bands (to which even Josh couldnt name) interwoven with eighties metal. The drinks were either cheap ($4 for a vod and cran or Stella beer) to insane ($10 for a cosmo). The clientele were either young and too cool for school (a girl was walking around in thong-shorts and beetlejuice blazer, guy in body suit) to really old people in plaid shirts. The coolest part of the night was that we got the "sexy booth". Basically, in the hallway between the front and back bar, there are two hidden booths inset deep into the walls complete with minimal candlelight. You could easily pass by without noticing us. Needless to say I got competently smashed which just added to the dreamlike quality of the night.
Oh yeah and there was a girl dressed in a leather Xena type outfit in the washrooms. Complete with silverwork spirals on her boobs and pleated skirt. She was also 50.
Unfortunately we saw no celebs but a couple of limos, Escalades and hummers -- all with tinted windows. And, in my imagination, I was in the same club as Orlando Bloom.
Friday, September 17, 2004
11:49 p.m.
Just knocked off another chapter in psych. God this stuff is boring. Do you realize that one whole section, entitled "Psychology is Diverse" was just reiterating that yes, psychology IS diverse, silly! For a whole page! Just steeling myself for diving into my Marketing textbook (which will probably be worse than psych). Okay here is a question to you kids who must routinely do this whole "reading" thing: do I need to take notes on this stuff or can I just mentally absorb it? What do people generally do?
At least I can sketch ideas in front of the tv/with music on.
Geeky design moment: I'm desiging a font this semester. This is scary (fonts are really meticulous, there are like a thousand of little stupid rules you have to follow and everything is gauged by EYE!). But fun. Just think, I will be able to write ransom notes, letters to my MP, and manifestos in my own typeface!
Its extremely quite around here: just me and the Baron this weekend. Which means I can do things like write psych notes but also means that I have to do things like write psych notes.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
12:45 p.m.
I just spent the last ten minutes, curled up in bed, convinced someone was in the livingroom stealing our tv, Nintendo, the Baron etc. In between cursing my roomates for not locking the door behind them (out to class they were), I was trying to formulate the best escape plan ever.
Since the apartment has only one door (and a nice five story drop) I basically had to run, in a "zig zag like pattern" across the dining room and out the front door, taking a right, and down the stairs. All the while yelling "fire! fire! fire!".
Anyways it must have been the wind or something because when I stepped out of my bedroom, there was our livingroom, all warm and sunny. And there was the front door, locked and secure.
Best roomates ever.
Except when they hide my thermometer and refuse to tell me where it is.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
03:26 a.m.
P.S I know I spelt vocabulary wrong and that there is some irony burried inside there. But face it - spelling is for losers and people in English programs.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
03:14 a.m.
I realized that, quite often, words get stuck in my throat. Basically this means that 65% I sound like an idiot, either by spewing out the wrong word, mispronouncing the word or replacing the word with something stupid like "thing". I think this situation is the result of MSN and other programs that let you type conversations.
I (believe) I once was able to speak well. I mean I read a lot, I have the vocabulairy yet I often find myself drowning in a vocal conversation. Basically my heart rate speeds up, my thoughts are flying by and my mouth just cannot keep up. Eventually I work myself up into quite a little headcase and just ramble on and on until I get my point across with simple language and repetition.
Hmmm, that above little point sounded like I go through anxiety attacks - thats really not the case. Its more like at the scene of an accident... like you have just been blind-sided by a car. There isn't any panic involved - just a lot of noise, flashing lights. Afterwards, when confronted by police/reporters/paramedics you just keep mumbling afterwards that "it happened too fast. It was all just too fast...". Real life is just too fast for me to form an opinion and then voice it.
Of course, with the right conversation partner and/or atmosphere I can be witty, intelligent and even speak like an adult. Alcohol helps too. Well, maybe not with the intelligence level of the conversation, but it does help with making the whole thing much, much funnier, at least to me.
Anyways eventually the entire human race is just going to be sealed in UV-protected plastic bubbles, ordering groceries and hair supplies off the internet while communicating with friends via MSN and text messaging; vocal chords and legs withered from disuse. Maybe I'm just ahead of the game.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
11:06 p.m.
I had this giant story written out how my five friends and I found this traditional Korean Kareokee place last night (seriously there was no English sign and you rented rooms to sing in with your friends like in "Lost in Translation") but it became long, and boring for all those who were not there. Instead I thought I would sum it up.
Oh I just did.
Oh and the kareokee machine scored your performance. I scored a sweet 100 singing "It's Raining Men" with Hollie.
Oh and after my not-so-much-fun-and-giggles previous entry, Lydia wrote a sweet little entry on my awesomeness. I suggest you read and worship at my altar.
My stuff now occupies my apartment even though I am still, physically here in my parents house. It's kinda like in one day I switched my home. Now I am just a visitor here. Till Thursday of course.
Monday, August 23, 2004
12:11 a.m.
You know how people always tell you (and by people I mean romantic comedies and teenage tv dramas)to "be yourself"? I mean, it seems like the answer to every problem, every situation. Got shingles? No car? Just lost a limb? Crap at photography? Be yourself and you'll be ok! But what if, to draw another common self crisis problem into the mix, you don't know who yourself really is?
For my entire life, I have never really be able to define who I am. Basically, things just sort of happen, I react, go to bed and wake up to a new day. I figured that, after high school, I'd have this all figured out but lately I'm thinking this isn't going to be the case... in fact maybe I'll never really know who I am.
All my actions,reactions and experience doesn't seem to have an effect... they haven't "built" me into anyone. All I really have is a picture of who I'd like to be.
So I am lead to believe that identity is just some intangible substance, a spirit that follows you everywhere like the ghosts of your dead grandparents.
Strangely enough this bout of philsophical pondering has been the product of watching five hours of "Sex in the City".
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
12:12 a.m.
Nothing really substantial to write so I will fill some space with a list. But not just any list of "Things I like" or "Things I do not like very much" more of "Anything I can think of in the next three minutes":
- Just then, as I was writing that last sentence and placing that colon, I head that little Mario voice in my head go "here we go!"
- I took my first step of becoming an "anal retentive neat freak" today by hanging my blouse in the closet instead of tossing it on the floor.
- Ralph Fiennes is Voldermort in the new Harry Potter movie.
- My grandmother has "land" in Lithuania and she learned that the natives are stealing her trees.
- Sometimes I think I would enjoy being a detective.
- I think I shall take up tennis
- I have the potential to be a decent golfer. Or at least I went to the driving range last week and dazzled everyone with my formally unknown skill in anything remotely sporty. Actually thats probably why they were impressed. Alternative theory, "they" being "my dad and mom" who must be impressed with everything I do so I can avoid childhood trama.
- I am currently reading Douglas Coupland's "Shampoo Planet".
- Methane burns clear so if you're on "methane fire" you can't see it. Which means you just watch your clothes melt away and become convinced that the excruating pain is ghost lightning or something really stupid.
- How many kids go missing in Disneyland each year?
- No one is really in love with the concept of "the future" anymore. I think Marinetti is crying in his grave (he founded a movement called the "Futurists" ... I think you can take it from there).
- I sounded very arty and pretensious there. I am seriously considering deleting that last point but in the interest of truth and the fact that I'm having a hard time thinking of more points, I think I shall leave it.
- Today is Jessica's birthday. She is 21. I still have to get her a present but when I do, it will be a good one (she gives good presents so I have to show her up).
- Next year I swear I will not procrastinate.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
10:50 p.m.
Does anyone else get microscopic cuts on their hands? And has no idea where they are from? I swear to god I'm being attacked by nanobots.
I realized last night I've become an insominac again. I wouldn't really mind except its damn boring and I also mentally subtract how much time I have left till I get up (which makes it worse by the way and yet its so tempting).
I was going to tell the Jack Layton story but Dan beat me to it.
More name dropping: after reading Jane's entry I started asking people if they add excitment to their life by having "contingency plans" - a hiding place in case a crazed psycho went after them in their home/school/work. Well a lot of people agreed but what was interesting was that some people look for weapons instead of hiding places.
Speaking of action plans and insomnia... one reason I couldnt sleep last night was because I had a dream about a dog on fire. So when I woke up I started thinking how if there was a fire right now, how I would get my dogs out (they're locked in the mud room). It basically involves a lot of running, fence jumping, window breaking and leading the dogs to the neighbours backyard instead of the front. Why? Because a) it would keep them away from the fire trucks and thus getting hit and b) its a lot quicker than going around to the front of the house and time is a factor because we would be right by the gas BBQ, dryer, stove... curse you natural fuel!!
Thursday, July 8, 2004
11:20 p.m.
Since I've become a productive member of society (re: employed) my life has become quite mechanical in a sort of mindless blissful way. For instance each day is an excercise in getting up, realizing that its one/ two/ three/ etc. days till the weekend, going to work, coming home, and vegging. The weekends are just as orderly. Get up, do something "social", count the days till Monday. Repeat. There is hardly any emotion, passion or "thought" left in my days.
See, when I was unemployed, my days all melted together. Since there was nothing to do and since I wasn't contributing anything, I started to think. Actually I constantly lived in a state of thought. And while this seems like some grand, intellectual state of being, all this thought power was geared to dissecting my life, mind and basically finding everything that was wrong. Of course, I'd never do anything to change myself, just think some more, creating a huge depressing cycle while trying to discover either the elusive "key to happiness" or "true self" or "meaning of life". Now I don't have time for self reflection and I'm as blissful than ever.
Actually scratch that. See the mechanical metaphor from the first paragraph? Well its true. I can't say that I'm happy. I can just say I'm existing and don't really think about happiness. Which makes me happy... but not.
This is the kind of shit I'm talking about!
Thursday, July 1, 2004
12:38 p.m.
P.S. I realize that the aforementioned Buffy episode is referencing "Soylent Greens".
Thursday, July 1, 2004
12:34 p.m.
So I took the job, as you may have guessed. And it still has not grown any less strange. I feel kind of like I'm on the Truman Show... you know... where everything is for you and you're so wonderful. Yet, at the same time there is something behind the scenes that I don't know about. Something evil prehaps? Like that Buffy episode where she is convinced that the fast food restaurant is serving people burgers. I swear I'm about to flip and start running around yelling "Design is made of people!" or something.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
12:51 p.m.
Some how, in all the strange manners and methods of this universe, my father, the lawyer, has used his connections to set up an interview for a junior designer position.
That is why, after a week of emails, I found myself in downtown Hamilton, carrying and hastily printed portfolio, and climbing some ancient stairs inside an old building.
Second floor, suite 213. Above the cafe. I got to the second floor but it just looked like apartments. Since I didnt know what else to do, I walked down the hallway staring at all the doors until I came to 213. Some doors were open, some were offices, and everyone stared at me as I walked through. Anyways I found where I was going in this strange building. I realized later the best thing I could compare it too would be the stereotypical dentist/ doctor/ private eye offices in the thirties. In the end it turns out the firm owns about five of these mini apartment offices.
After waiting in the tiny waiting room I was shown downstairs to the cafe, where the rest of the interview would be conducted. And thats when the creative director, who thought I was just some lawyers kid he was doing a favour for, scared the crap out of me.
"How would you like to work for us after you graduate?"
Thats in two years. Thats when I enter the real world. This guy, who was very impressed with my designs, is basically calling up all the worries, fears, and insecurity I've been storing up for graduation and flinging them around hapazardly. Now, instead of me trying to be charming, creative and a team player just in the hope that they would consider letting me do their photocopying for the summer, the creative director is trying to woo me. He starts talking about the company, how new it is, how much its expanding (adding another few offices, some more designers) and how I am free to come and use their printers/ G5's/ facilities any time I need it. I could tell he would be an awesome boss... he's young, excited, laid back and obviously likes my work and wants me to ask questions.
Dude it was the twilight zone.
Of course I will take the job. I need some experience, I can do something I love for a summer job and work in a great office. But in the back of my mind is the fact that I'm going to have to "break up" with this firm later. As cool as it would be to work there after school and as crazy as Toronto is, I really want to try my hand in the big city.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
12:47 p.m.
This week I was offered three jobs and one was entirely out of the blue. I realized that one of my key motivations in life is to please people and therefore I have no idea how to call two of these people up and "disapoint" them. I had the same weird problem when picking an university. I would get beautiful glossy pamphlets and acceptance letters from schools I'd never attend. It just made me sad.
Friday, April 30, 2004
02:29 a.m.
Dear Lydia, Young or old, Ted Danson is still spooky.
Friday, April 30, 2004
02:27 a.m.
I opened my window and now my room reeks of summer.
Saturday, April 24, 2004
02:51 p.m.
Sometimes I think I define myself by other people and their ideas, ideals, values, likes/dislikes. The fact that my personality is as mallable as playdough scares the bejeezus out of me.
One of the weirdest aspects of this who "theory" of mine is that, after spending some time with a person, I'll start to mimic the way they talk: entonation, arms movements the whole thing. And I don't even have to be with the person to start imitating them. It's like I go through a Lydia/ Dan/ Jessica/ Scott/ phase. It's not intentional, in fact usually I try to stop it. Case in point, once I was talking to an Austrailian, maybe for five minutes, and by the end I was making a conscious effort not to let an Aussie accent creep into my voice.
Maybe I should have gone into acting. You could just sit me in a room with people who reflect the character and just let me absorb.
So my question is: if I seal myself in tupperware for a while, draw the curtains tight, lock the door and turn on the answering machine, will I find the "real" me? Or will I find out that the "real" me is a crazy recluse who talks to herself and names her furnature after dead monarchy?
I tend to get introspective during exam time. I think its the procrastination.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
01:31 a.m.
The longer my hair gets, the stronger my preference for large hoop earings gets.
Saturday, March 6, 2004
04:42 p.m.
Do you know that when they (by they I mean NASA or some scientific type people) try to make Mars habitable, they are going to fertilize the soil with dead bodies?
"It is vastly cheaper to send dead people into space than live people." Thats a quote from my textbook.
Sunday, February 29, 2004
12:24 p.m.
Today I am heading over to the type labs to get my fingers severed and hair ripped out.
You see, we have to use the old fashion presses which are huge metal machines which look like they are out of the Victorian era and have crunched many a child labourer. In fact last week our lecture even included this little medical gem: "Alright so make sure you've locked the type in. Oh, and if you get your fingers caught, hold them above your head. Anyone know why? Anyone? Anyone? Well if you hold your hand above your heart you won't spurt blood on everyones work."
Last year someone got their fingers and hair caught. Not pretty. I told you all that graphic design is dangerous.
Monday, February 16, 2004
07:39 p.m.
The one thing that is semidistrubing about driving someone around is that heavy silence which can fall between you. I mean, at first you're all like, woo signal, woo turn left, woo yield and then you start thinking "no one has said anything in a while". Its all downhill from there. Now the silence has been named. If there were more than two of you, oh then its fine. Then the silence can be divided evenly and becomes easier to bear. But oh no, not with two of you in the car. And you can just feel it growing there, weighing down inside the car between the passanger and driver seat. You both pretend that its normal driving silence (I mean, a girl has to concentrate right? Noise is distracting) but you both know thats a blatant lie. Then, envitably, someone says something stupid.
"I've always wanted to go to Austrailia" said my old driving instructor this morning. Five minutes later he reminds me to check my mirrors.
Thursday, February 12, 2004
03:37 a.m.
Mid-Feburary Resolutions:
Stop going to bed at 4am.
Stop getting up at 1pm.
Eat regularily.
Drink water.
Finish at least one salad.
Read one design book.
Go 3 times a week and look for inspiration on the web.
Floss regularily.
Stop making everything a big deal.
Buy one more pair of pants.
Stop spending money.
Pay phonebill.
Wear lipstick more often.
Sunday, February 1, 2004
01:25 a.m.
Every saturday night I have to hover in front of my tiny television set and watch old movies on TVO for four hours. This is basically the core of my online class, "Hollywood Old and New."
The first film tonight was forgetable but the second one is a testiment of how a bunch of visual and audio preceptions can change your mood. For some reason, I always get an ephiphany, a reflective mood or even just start to feel older on Saturday nights. Its not always caused by these movies... I dont know. Shit happens on Saturdays that changes my outlook on life... if only for a bit.
But I digress. The film is called "The Big Chill" and for the life of me I am not sure what the title is refering to or how to analyize even half of this movie. Basically a group of college friends are reunited after one of them commits suicide.
So of course the entire time I am comparing my friends to these people and trying to get a glimpse of what is going to happen in the future. Basically we all sell out.
To be honest, as a designer, I pretty much gave up on ideals. A career creating advertisments and corporate logos doesnt involve saving the world. So I'm already a head of the game. I guess that applies to Scott, Kim, Josh and Erin too. I suppose Lydia could never be an artist and thus go to teachers college to teach highschool kids basic aesthetic principles. Dan could either give up writing entirely and use that economics award to go economic things or, if not that, write manuals for hairdryers. Derek of course would give up drawing comics and do something buisnessy. Then we would all meet up ten years later and bitch about all those lost dreams.
I guess I could add that I could never, ever believe that such tragedies could happen. Every single one of those people seem so set on doing something they love, achieve those dreams. No regrets and all that. I mean, we're different than those sad people. These ambitions are real. That is what I feel. However, there is the doubting little elf lodged in my forebrain whispering that we're no better than anyone. That the world is hard, cold and when we're drowning out there, floudering under the weight of these dreams, we will grab onto any piece of security we can find.
This is why I've chosen the most depressing music I have and made a "Bigchill" mix.
On the plus side: Im getting loads of work done.
Monday, January 26, 2004
01:28 a.m.
I feel so immovably frustrated right now. Its like for the past week I have been in this precarious balancing act, pushing all my weight down on the board just to keep myself above, on the plus side, in the black; yet everything is still barely levelling off. But, you know, no sweat... it all works out in the end.
But then some offhanded comment, a little stinging rejection and I fall flat on my ass. All of a sudden I realize that, well, I could fail in a spectacular fashion. There is no written law that I have to be successful. And the only thing I can do is work harder, push harder and hope that I at least stay afloat nevermind flying off.
Tonights bitchy mood brough to you by: Verso!
Saturday, January 24, 2004
02:44 a.m.
Sorry Adobe I love you but...
Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped. Photoshopped.
Come on, you knew that was coming.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
04:20 p.m.
Every once in a while I leave the tv on during the afternoon. Its a nice little noise in the background while I struggle with some odd project. Usually, I just leave the tv on BRAVO (after watching Law and Order) which maybe the most interesting part of the day.
Why? Well, after said police drama they play the weirdest canadian movies. For instance: crazy french teenagers who kill their parents in the thirties and, today, a girl who hitches a ride with three bankrobbers to Toronto. Why? To find her father who, at this point, has just been fired, killed his landlady and set his house on fire.
Now there is just a voiceover reading letters between this French Canadian writer and his mistress. "Now we have permanent residencey in the United States. We are about to take a long trip west..." etc.
Saturday, January 17, 2004
02:35 a.m.
Entering this new digital age... I am currently listening to my lecture for my online course. Then I have to log in and make some sort of grand comment. Very strange. It has never been easier to "skip class".
The only problem is that there are no interuptions, questions so its two hours of hardcore packed in facts. I already have six pages.
Right now Im taking a mental break because the prof is on some tangent about Italian films.
Monday, January 12, 2004
01:13 a.m.
I had three salads in the past five days. That counts for something.
The Austrailians are to blame for the snow. All winter, it has been incredibly mild. In fact, eight days ago I was driving my sister home at MIDNIGHT and it was seven degrees. Almost sweater weather. Now, all of a sudden, there are great piles of snow and minus forty winds. After going to a party last night and meeting some freezing exchange students from downunder, I realized that this is some giant production just for them. That, whenever I protest that "cold Canadian winter" stereotype ("Really. Havent had a white christmas for six years") something like this happens and these foreigners (last year it was a bunch of middle eastern students) just laugh and say "Oh you Canadians are sooo funny. You are just use to the cold."
Of course the other, actually annoying aspect of this weather is that the great chill occured the first day of school when I had to walk across the campus.
Wednesday, January 7, 2004
11:33 p.m.
So I've started to eat salad. I figure its about time that I start to eat green things. The up side is that I can start saying things like "ohh I could go for a salad right now." Now, that may seem obvious and, well, idiotic but whenever people craved salad I always felt left out.
So today I ordered a Ceasar salad from Wendy's. While, yes, I realize that thats not a "real" salad and not "healthy" but I have to ease myself into this new habit. You see, I hate lettice. Well, not "hate" because its basically crunchy water... no its more a dislike mainly due to the cruchy part. The whole texture of lettuice is just gross. So I have to start to get use to that cold crunch with something I like.. namely bacon, crutons and a garlicy cream sauce.
First reaction: it was cold. Ewww. Luckily Wendy's makes good crutons. I ended up eating most of the salad.. leaving those thick, chunky stems behind. It was enough crunching down on the leaves, I didn't need that extra bone-like crunch.
I then proceeded to eat my sub which contained three types of meat... just to balance out all that extra veg I was consuming.
Next week yoga starts with the girls. God, who am I turning into?
Saturday, January 3, 2004
11:12 p.m.
I feel like I have been slapped, but I don't know why.
Saturday, January 3, 2004
11:05 p.m.
For the first time in two years I really want to go to bed before midnight. Oh but nooo, I have to wait to go pick up my sister. Its cold, dark and rainy. Tomorrow I am going to Toronto and will not have to drive anyone anywhere for a month.
I have piled everything I am taking back onto my bed. In retrospec, this was not a good idea.
Tuesday, December 30, 2003
03:05 a.m.
Last night the phone rang at four a.m. Due to my habit of sleeping in during buisness hours, I keep the ringer turned off on my phone. Some sadistic bastard turned it back on so, on this fateful night, when it did ring, I woke up.
Phone calls at four a.m. are not a good thing. Apparently. Everyone knows that. Its basically the banshee call of death. After three rings and four minutes of silence I heard the hushed voices of my parents. The creek and soft thud of my dad's feet on the floor and, ten minutes later, the unmistakable sucking noise of the front door being ripped from the weatherproof liner.
It was then I started, mentally, running through a list of older relatives and evaluating the effect of their death on my rather sheltered 22 year existance.
Grandparents? Obvious answer. Which one? Three remaining were all in good shape. Uncles? Mindy? Ausra and the kids? They left today to drive home to the states. A quick thought to my own brother and sister. Nope. They are in their beds, safe and sound.
There has been one other late night call that I can remember and that one didn't contain bad news. Add that to the fact that I never had anyone die on me (one grandparent I was too young to appreciate and an old relative whose funneral was a blessing) and I knew that this call was bad news. My number was up. Tragedy is going to strike.
So, left with my elaborate imagings, I turned over in my bed and waited for the morning to come. Waiting for my mum to sneak in a seven, rest her hand on my shoulder and tell me the news.
At eleven fifteen I woke up. I immediately knew that it was fake. A phoney. A "close call". Call it intution or the fact that daylight often dispells night-time certainity.
I got up, started to walk downstairs. My mother was standing at the bottom step, looking up.
"Last night your father got a phone call at four a.m." She said, picking up her purse off the last step and turning towards the door.
"Turns out the neighbour's buglar alarm went off and since they're on a curise dad had to go and walk the police through the house."
She giggled.
"When they came to Dan's room, the officer asked 'Anything unusual here?' and dad said 'nope officer, he's a teenager!' A teenager! Get it? Get your coat. I need help picking the dog up from the groomer."
So basically this is just a story to illustrate my overactive imagination and realization that, as hard as I try, there is no pattern to existance. Hmmm thats a bit too philosphical for an ending to my taste.
Did you know that not flossing gives you heart disease?
Tuesday, December 30, 2003
03:05 a.m.
How do you get a heart attack from gum disease?
Thursday, December 11, 2003
03:32 p.m.
As soon as I have tons of time to hang out with people, go downtown and do all the hip, fancy stuff that I should be doing, living in this nations largest metropolis, everyone goes home or starts to study for exams.
I am starving. Yet food is soooo far away. I really need to hire some "help". Butlers would solve all my problems.
Everyone should come see my room as it is incredibly clean.
There are always fires on campus. I swear. Everyday a fire engine races by my window. I suppose its big enough to have hundreds of buildings burn down every year.
Today was Dan's last exam so we are celebrating by drinking the leftover gin (shudder) from the Fancy Party.
The fancy party (see what I did there? that nice little segway? did you see that? yeah?) was an incredibly successful gala event. On monday, we moved all the furniture out of my room, vaccumed, stole a dining table, cooked some pasta, got out the candles and listened to jazz. Then everyone came over and we got trashed Frank Sinatra style... we even bought his favourite brand of gin.
Did you know Gin smells like pine needles?
Friday, December 5, 2003
09:44 p.m.
I should take a page from Jane's book and update all the time.
I have an exam on sunday. SUNDAY! Which is odd but at least its right before the FANCY PARTY!
Now I realize why I dont update like Jane, I have nothing to say.
Friday, November 21, 2003
03:40 p.m.
Update! Update! Full site has moved to: lola.summerlong.com. The journal will, forever and always, remain here though.
Saturday, November 15, 2003
11:12 p.m.
The self above my desk is really a box with a light in it. At first the light didnt work. I even went to Walmart and bought a new flourescent bulb. It still didnt work. Two months later I plugged it in and voila... photons.
I forgot we had a new Prime Minister. Its strange because for my adult or at least politically aware life, Jean has been the head honcho. He didnt really do anything bad and didnt really do anything good. Wait, maybe he did. I just can't tell because I havent been around long enough. Anyways he's gone and yesterday Bono welcomed in our new leader.
Yeah, Bono. I know.
The whole point of explaining my "shelf/light" was the fact that I taped pictures of my friends up on it. Just a single row with 7.5 pictures. Most of them were taken one day on the beach. The sky and sand was really pale. The rest are dark adn taken at random points last year with an entirely different group of friends (those "university" type friends). The 1/2 picture is really two little pictures from a photobooth. I think I was in grade ten.
I created this mellow mix of MP3's so I'm trying to make my entries embody the music. I was going to list the bands but then this would just turn into some pretenious "look at me and my cool taste in music" presentation. Anyways the music reminds me of these little threads.
I just found out that 12 whales beached themself last night in New Zeland and died. Well 11 died on friday and the 12th today... rescuers couldnt move it. They just watched.
Yeah I know.
Tuesday, November 11, 2003
09:47 a.m.
Today seems like some sort of weird half day. I only slept for an hour last night yet its darker now than when I went to bed (rain). So it kinda feels like 5 pm when I know its only 9 am and I still have seven hours of classes to go. Shizbit.
Thursday, November 6, 2003
01:46 a.m.
I think it is now entirely impossible for me to get to bed before 2:30am. That is the ABSOLUTE EARLIEST mind you. This year is so weird.
Two months ago my window broke. Somehow, in a monsoon or something, it rusted open. Now, this was alright for a while... the weather was pretty mild and when it did get a "tit bit nipply" (as every single guy here says) I improvised. Instead of spending fifteen seconds filling in a maintaince request form, I spent an hour taping garbage to my window to keep out the cold. When I was finished, it was a brillant architectural piece of coke boxes, paper plates and cardboard. Whenever it got too hot (which strangly enough it did) i would just peel some of the plates off. It was a great system.
Yesterday I finally got fed up and filled in the form. Then all hell broke loose at the housing department. I guess its a crime to have a window stuck open in North York because all of a sudden everyone was in an uproar. The cleaning lady, Rose, who saw my form got upset because the maintance guy wasnt here, so while I was in class, she got real cardboard and taped up the window proper. Then I started get phone calls from various housing people trying to help. Then the dons came by and offered to try and slam it shut from the outside. Meanwhile, due to Rose's excellent duct-taping job, it was STIFFLING in my room. I was actually hot but quite comfortable in a "Carribean sipping on daquiri" way. Cardboard is excellent insulator. Finally, early wednesday morning (while I am asleep) and frantic knock was at my door. It was the maintance man. While this was his week off, housing called him in to fix my window. He fixed it, apologized for not being in and left.
Hmph.
Thursday, November 6, 2003
01:45 a.m.
The only thing I am indifferent to in this world is cutlery.
Monday, October 6, 2003
03:43 p.m.
I cut my finger on the alphagetti tin. I'm afraid that the artifical tomato sauce bacteria is now invading my blood stream. So tommorrow, if I wake up as a giant, pasta shaped letter, you know what happened.
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
02:04 a.m.
God... okay instead of finishing my work for tomorrow I just played three hours of Trivial Pursuit w/ Dan and Lydia.
Fucking hell.
Tuesday, January 6, 1970
08:37 p.m.
Hahahaha and how much do I love that they spend millions on the design labs and can't set the date on the computers?
Okay I had a yogurt, orange juice and apple juice this morning. Why am I still hungry? WHY?!?!?!
Overheard conversation.... "Alright... there's this web game called "Arial vs. Helvetica" where they battle it out, letter by letter, for supreme sans serif dominancy!!!!"
Dear lord. I'm off to find it.
Tuesday, January 6, 1970
08:31 p.m.
Isn't is strange that, as soon as school began, I start to update more? Could it be due to four hour computer lab classes? I think there may be a direct correlation here....
Right now (almost half way done) the class has run out of steam and its now the "work on whatever" period. Which means I get to check my mail. For two and a half hours.
Actually thats not technically true. In twenty minutes I'll have to join four other people in a "critique" with the prof. Then we'll get a break. Then I will sneak out of class. Then I will repeat the same thing this afternoon, tomorrow morning and tomorrow afternoon.
But when I wake up on my class free wednesday, I know that doubling up was worth it.
Sunday, September 21, 2003
02:04 a.m.
Did you see the bed?! They flipped the bitch!!!.
This is how it went down. At the Ab, while Lydia was distracted by playing darts, Derek and Scott stole her keys and went to the bathroom. Well that was the cover story. They really went back to the residence, went into Lydia's room and flipped her bed up onto the wall.
So, later on that evening, we all said our fake "goodbyes" and while Lydia made her way up the stairs, we (Josh, Scott, Derek and I) ran back and stood in the quad. We had a perfect view into her second floor room.
It was great.
To add to the entire experience, when she looked out her window, she not only saw the four of us HOWLING on the ground, but the a crowd of drunken guys who joined us as well (they thought we were looking at naked people).
Friday, September 19, 2003
01:23 p.m.
Adventures in North York... yo.. Or, ya know, what I did last night in photo form.
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
11:54 a.m.
So I'm back in Toronto. Once again I said I would go to the film festival, once again I didn't. This type of film-fest inaction is quite common up here. First week of september everyone is all running around, talking how they're going, how they never did last year and how this year will be different.
But then it wasn't. As soon as Sept. 14 rolled around, no one had done anything. And the closest brush to fame I had was talking to frosh who had seen Jarvis Church.
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
12:48 a.m.
Im just backing this up.. just ignore it. Unless, you know, you have an interest in design research.
MINI ASSIGNMENT ONE
Wong, Yin Yin. Temporal Typography: A Proposal to Enrich Written Expression. Common
Ground. 9 September 2003
Tuesday, September 2, 2003
11:34 p.m.
My sister went to the fair and bought fake hair entensions. She plans to wear it on the first day of school. Not only do they make her look like a country superstar; disregard the fact that they are more yellow than blonde; it is CARNY HAIR!!! AH!
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
10:45 p.m.
I'm really bad at motivating myself to do things that I really dont want to do. I usually make dumb excuses. Case in point: "Well, mars is closer than its ever been in 60,000 years... to celebrate I won't floss."
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
11:46 a.m.
Today I got my National Geographic and, blazed across the front cover was the word: ZEBRAS!
I kind of forgot that in less than two weeks I'll be moving out again. I really have to do some laundry.
Wednesday, August 6, 2003
09:59 p.m.
My sister is driving and has a habit of forgetting to break.
"ALANA!" my dad yells as she stops, two inches away from the bumper in front of her. "You have to drive like you have china on the dashboard!"
"Huh?" She replies (oh my sister of the poetic tongue). "Do you mean the country or the cups?"
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
11:13 p.m.
When I grow up I want to join the British intelligence agency.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
11:04 p.m.
Give me anything - jewels, blocks, dinosaur eggs - and let me stack them in space efficent ways (which makes said objects explode in a satisfying "boooom") and I'll be happy.
I've never really been one for traditional video games. Super Mario, Doom, Chips Challenge... I get way too involved and become obsessed with not dying. Its character empathy to the thousandth degree. So if I do end up virtually perishing from the violent fits of a snapping turtle a piece of my soul goes with it.
Inanimate objects however... thats another story.
Favourite game of all time: Tetris. Its hard to identify with bevelled blocks. And the satisfication of fitting these blocks together? Wonderful. Dr. Mario - same thing. And now Bejewelled. Its an all out obsession. My record is 40,000 (non-timed).
It gets so bad, that even when I'm a bizillion miles from any sort of thing resembling a computer, I can close my eyes and play in my mind.
Even then I still can't beat 40,000.
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
05:55 p.m.
I've spent the last few hours watching "The Prisoner" - a 60's cult, wonderfully British cheese show. Is about his guy trapped in this artifical "village" (think Disneyland, Mt. Tremblant Resort) which houses people imprisioned for having too much "information". Almost everyone is brainwashed and wear weird 60ies clothes. So Mr. Main Character (named "Number Six") constantly runs around and tries to escape, only finding out he's just a pawn in their game. He likes to yell "I AM NOT A NUMBER, I AM A FREE MAN!!!"
There are these giant white balloon/bubble things that guard the parimeter of the "village". Whenever the writers couldnt think of a way to stop Number Six from leave (ie already did the giant magnet, remote control helicopter) they just make these giant balloons appear and "attack" him (ie "jump" up and down on the victim). It's weird, cause you sit there watching and think "well why doesnt he just use a pin?!" but then, at the same time, find these giant sentries incredibly frightening. Well, except when you can see the string that pulls the balloon along.
Where Am I?!
The village.
Whose side are you on?!
That would be telling.
What do you want?
Information! Information! Information!
I AM NOT A NUMBER... I AM A FREE MAN!
Wednesday, July 9, 2003
03:03 p.m.
This is for hanna as she is stuck alone in her cubicle, watched over by her Snape like coworker. I dont care if my metaphor is weak... its mine and I love it.
Oh wait... Hanna has the day off today. Fuck you Hanna. I never get a day off from being unemployed.
Monday, July 7, 2003
09:20 p.m.
Hello jello.
Harry Potter was wonderful. I actually waited in line and surprisingly it didnt take that long (though please note we were probably 50 away from the front, with the majority of suckas behind us).
Im slowly crawling out of my june-induced slump.
Thursday, June 26, 2003
06:23 p.m.
My will to do something, anything, is slowly crumbling.
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
06:29 p.m.
I just spent the last seven minutes staring mindlessly at things in my room before I realized I had absolutely nothing to write.
Thursday, May 29, 2003
12:28 a.m.
So... I'm sick. I'm tempted to add a little drama to my life and tell everyone I have SARS. But that would just be insensitive. Then if I really get SARS no one would believe me and I'd get eaten by wolves. Or my sheep would. Or... yeah. DON'T YOU RECOGNIZE A LITERARY ALLUSION WHEN YOU SEE ONE?!
Actually that was pretty poor. My apologies to the guy who wrote "The Boy Who Cried Wolf", his family, my mother who told me the story and the thousands of authors who have adapted their own version into filmsy "First Reader" ugh...readers.
Yesterday, for her birthday, my sister got a book called "Campire Stories" which was filled with stories like "The Man with the Hook", "Murder in the Backseat" etc. Its pretty sad when a writter is reduced to rewriting urban legends and pretend that they thought of it on their own. "I was going to be the next Fitzgerald" they would sob before heaving their typewritter out the window, and then pouring their miserable ass a sniffer of cognac.
That little anecdote is fiction... you can tell by the typewritter. Who uses a typewritter? Anyways I'm not secretly stalking these poor writters nor do I hide in their spare bedrooms and using their own phones, terrify them by calling them downstairs.
the call is coming from inside the house!
Monday, May 26, 2003
12:32 a.m.
I just erased about, eh, 250 words which bitch about the cons in my life right now. Bitchandmoan lalalala. I figured that, like in life, I'm just going to ignore my problems tonight and hope, by daylight, they'll be gone. Poof. Destroyed by that little fairy who visits us procrastinators at night and runs amok of our worries.
The world in my head is so much better than reality.
Wednesday, May 14, 2003
04:16 p.m.
York sent me an email today. WOW! I said. But it was just about how their changing the email server. At the bottom of the email theres a link titled "What you have to change to accomodate the new server" and so I clicked on it and went to a wonderful webpage that said "YOU DONT HAVE TO CHANGE SHIT!" (well... I paraphrased).
Why they couldnt add an extra sentence to the email instead of making an entire webpage is beyond me. I want the three seconds I took looking at the page back. I could of used them for, I dunno, like opening Word or something.
Update on life: dooooooooom.
Tuesday, May 6, 2003
10:56 p.m.
This saturday a bunch of "university" people (well if three counts as a bunch... and people as in friends) are coming up/down to visit me.
And you have no idea how excited I am. Really. I mean I want to give TOURS. TOURS!
Lydia says thats fine with her... as long as we get iced cream and go to Shoppers (she has errands to run).
Saturday, April 19, 2003
08:48 p.m.
Dude, today I bought an anklet - you know, one of the ones with bells. Thus when I walk I go "ching ching, ching ching chingchingching."
Friday, April 25, 2003
12:32 p.m.
The Sherpas are a population of people who live at the foot of some of the world's tallest peaks... namely Mt. Everst in the Himilaya mountains. There's this one Sherpa kid, lets call him Roger, who wants to be a doctor. So everyday he goes to school - right? Except "going to school" means poor Roger must walk up a mountain for five hours to even reach the front doors of his high school. Now, most of us good children brought up in the Western society would not be happy with this situation. I'm sure many of us would use some choice words about our daily trek. But not Roger. He just says, with his little Sherpa smile that yeah, its a long walk "but on the way home it takes only three hours because its all downhill."
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
12:33 p.m.
I don't have a job, school or friends who have completed exams (well, until this week). I basically fill my time with sleep and Harry Potter.
Friday, April 18, 2003
12:10 a.m.
So I'm looking for a way to express myself.
Painting doesnt really do it for me. I just can't figure out a way of creating images which suit my moods without using cliches or feeling stupid. I mean I honestly cannot see how people feel that they're excercising their demons through paint. Except for like Pollock and his crazy drippings but thats more like boxing - taking the rage out on something that wont fight back. I mean, if you think about it, even if you had this emotion, this feeling and started to create a picture, by the time youre through its just stale. On a side note, I should probably say that I can usually find something, some "meaning" afterwards. But I dont think that counts.
Actually. Scrap that. I DO believe people can "express" themselves through other mediums, I just can't. So words is where its at.
Sorry for being so literal but I think writing stuff down is more "expressive". You have a feeling/thought/whatever. You write it down. There's no proccess of filtering it visually through your mind to come up with something visual.
So I'm thinking of becoming a poet. Except I'm not a fan of poetry. I mean, there are some poems, lines, words that I love but I would never read poetry for leisure. I just wouldn't - I'd probably pull down some crappy worn junk novel. So theres the other problem that my work would probably be on par with some thirteen-year-old's angst ridden verses. But then again, as long as I'm outputting these thoughts instead of burying them, thats all that matters right?
So I think I'll be a poet but I really dont want to be. Songwritter - that sounds better. Except I know shit about music. So I guess its back to poet.
Or maybe just girl who writes shit down.
So why this sudden need to "express" myself? Basically its just because I'm afraid of bottling things up. Actually I'm not even sure that I DO bottle things up - this is just a precaution. You know, because if I dont, one day, I would just BLOW and slaughter a crowd innocent people. Then everyone would just shake their heads and whisper "Should of been a poet..."
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
12:30 p.m.
You know what I love? Like absolutely adore? Typing on the little numerical keypad on the side with one hand. It makes me feel l44t.
SO I guess this is my first, offical, York-free day. Yesterday I went to some advising thing and they basically said: "HAHA seconds years! We're sceduling ALLLL your classes monday, tuesday and friday (at sheridan) mornings!!! TRY AND STOP US!!! MUAHAHAHAHA!!!". Its sad, but thats really true (well not about the laughing manically, every single required course is on either mondays, tuesday, or fridays at Sheridan). But I will not give up my three day weekends: I REFUSE!!!! Thus I am heavily stacked at the beginning of the week, leaving wednesdays and thrusdays free for my Gen. Ed. credits. Ew.
Monday, April 14, 2003
01:04 a.m.
Alright so I'm home and suddenly in highschool again. Strange days.
On thrusday I was sitting in the design lab one last time (literally as its moving to a new grey glass building next year). I was staring at the screen, cursor hovering over "log out" and I did. I remember making it such a big, symbolic moment in my mind - "log out of first year!" etc. Yeah, what a loser. Then I went outside, the sun was shining and just like that had a Sex and the City moment. There I was, strutting across campus in the sun, inner monologue on full.
p.s. I'm so postmodern I even deconstruct myself!
p.p.s. I'm a second year university student, I can use postmodernist theory to make myself look cool. Like the fonz, but not quite.
Saturday, April 5, 2003
01:06 p.m.
I'm disillusioned into thinking that I'm done. Finished. Everyone else practically is (except for that pesky FACS exam wednesday). But no, I'm far from it. Well... not that far but far enough. Stupid multimedia project.
Anyways this denial is causing me to go all the way to Yorkdale to get my pictures developed.
Chart of Laziness:
I'm too lazy to study so I work on my big project. I'm too lazy to work on my big project so I'm going to Yorkdale. I'm too lazy to get dressed to go to Yorkdale so I'm writing lists about laziness.
Thursday, April 3, 2003
04:36 p.m.
Wow I just this strange pocket of reflective saddness. I just came from my last class. Lots of hugs, trading of the email addresses, "have a good summer" etc. Then I thought, god I won't see these people for almost half a year. Which, yeah is a bit of a downer but they are just class friends, ie friends to hang out with in class. But then I realized that, hey, I have real friends here and the true goodbyes are yet to come.
Then, to "cheer" me up, I watched the pilot of Six Feet Under. Ha.
Another thing I just realized. Nestle (makers of the kitkat which is sitting on my desk) is located in North York. I'm in North York!
Wednesday, April 2, 2003
02:33 a.m.
Designfest All Nighter Week 2003 begins! Night one: painting. Inspiration? Picasso and some bottles. Assignment? Paint something I like. Working? So far...
OH! And I had a nervous breakdown today. I had to run out of my lab, run home, and freak out in the bathroom. Then I pushed myself into denial and started to paint. Tomorrow I will deal with impending crisis - hopefully with grace and poise. Probably not. Take small comfort in knowing that Hanna will be up late tomorrow as well. Like they say: "Dying... like everything... is much more fun with friends."
Saturday, March 29, 2003
01:50 a.m.
Did you know Toronto guys dance? Seriously. It blew my mind.
I've started and restarted this paragraph three times - and the subject always changes. See, I dont think people care that I went to Shoppers today or have a formal tomorrow. It would be some bland, factual report of my day... like I'm spying on myself and recording every move. So you, lucky you, will be treated to a delve into my inner psyche.
Mmm... what could I say... how about a photoshop analogy? Yeah thats creative. Right now the opacity setting of my future is zero. Just a white bunch of pixels. Actually maybe its a 10. Yes, I am 10% opaque. I know what I'm going to do: find a place, a job, decide to live here or Hamilton for the hotter months. Yet I don't have an apartment for next year... everytime I visualize it I just see light...tons of it behind thin curtains that blind me to anything else. Same with the summer. It's very annoying. And also helps me revert into denial. I look around my dorm room and can't accept that in two weeks I'll never see the inside of these walls again. I've never really moved so I've never faced this issue. And I can't even picture where I'll be in the next two/three weeks because I dont know. Toronto? Hamilton? Blur.
Back to my metaphor: hopefully, soon, I will find a place. Make a decision. Get a job. And slowly my opacity slider will glide forward, slowly revealing where I'll be.
So by this time you're laughing and shaking your head: "photoshop analogies? What a geek." Yes it is geeky and on purpose... just a gimick to delight and amuse my friends. And make you think I'm oh so designer-hip. I really don't think in the terms of graphic programs... really. That'll happen in third year.
Tuesday, March 18, 2003
08:29 a.m.
K, I'm in class now.
Man, yesterday I was walking to class and there were tons of people, just strolling along, staring at the sky, smiling and thinking "holy shit."
Even a frisbee game was bred with a snow ball war to create the ultimate of games. Maybe thats what this Middle Eastern Conflict needs... more snrisbee ball!
Out of the 20 plus people who should be in this lab, there are seven of us left. Included the Instructor and lab monitor. Eeek. I would hate to see the monday morning lectures (which are so pointless I haven't attended one since the second week of September when they talked about what the internet really means to us).
Saturday, March 15, 2003
10:42 p.m.
Sometimes I wish the world was backwards. Like four am would be a reasonable hour and we'd all go to bed in the mornings. That way, when I'm up designing, there wouldn't be any crappy informercial porn on tv. Then again, part of the magic of four AM is the isolation, the quietness. And the fact that you can brag about it when everyone else wakes up.
I also wish I was a DJ.
Saturday, March 15, 2003
01:32 p.m.
I am so inert these days. As in last night when I stayed up till four (?!) looking at images. IMAGES. It's for my des img project but still... It should of taken me five minutes. I think my body really refuses to do work.
Another example: right now I should be studying for my typography test. What? A test for type? Sure, why not. Ridiculous.
Oh there's also the interactive environment for multimedia and my book covers. I think I'll be a recluse forever (sorry to all the friends whom I wont be seeing this weekend).
Saturday, March 1, 2003
01:13 p.m.
Wow what a stupid entry that was. Bowls? Pfffh.
Today my hair has decided to throw a party. This is partly due to the fact that, last night, Hanna took on the persona of a crazy french hair expert and sprayed, soaked and spread on thousand different chemicals in my hair. Then, with me, Hanna and Hollie dressed in slutty-style (and Rob and Mike following), we went out for a wild night on the town. What did we do? Did we end up paying a visit to the drag show? Did we see the celtic sensation "Up yer Kilt"? Or, did we drive around for two hours, almost go to Bolton, tried the doors of the closest bar at 1 AM, found they were locked, got lost, ended up in the ghetto, downtown, lakeshore and on the highway back to Hamilton before heading back to campus and playing "Never Have I Ever" with one Orange Woodies, a bottle of "Tequelia Style Liquor" and glasses of coke?
Nights in North York can sure get crrrraaaazzzzzy.
It was the last one by the way....
Friday, February 28, 2003
03:28 p.m.
Today, outside my door, I found a bowl.
"Oh shit!" I squeaked. Then I looked left, then right, then left, grabbed the bowl and hid it under the bed.
A month ago Hanna left her dirty dishes in the bathroom "dish" sink (its the gross old sink we dont use thus it gets the dishes) for a week or two and our suitemates got so fed up, they quietly cleaned the bowls and left them outside the door. Awkwardness for all.
Anyways on monday I had some popcorn in a bowl and, too busy to wash it, I just left it in the sink. Well it was a single bowl and it appeared clean (popcorn residue is transparent) and thus blended into the white of the sink so nicely and I never noticed.
And they're out there. Mel and Emma. I know they are... ready to beat me with spongues and a bottle of Sunlight. I'm scared to leave my room.
Thursday, February 27, 2003
01:35 p.m.
Hollie came. She may come back. Lock your doors...
we went to Second Cup for the semi-traditional wednesday night coffee - expanded as a ton of people came (for those who care if was Lydia, Scott, Mark, John, Justin and I). Then the boys said "Lets play 'War of the Monsters' " then the girls (and Mark) said "Boo.". So we soaked up all the mereiment that the mail alcove had to offer (guest star: Mandi). It was actually amusing as we talked until Justin and Scooter came back from video-game-o-rama to go home. By then it was 12:00/12:30 so Hollie and i went to wait for the roomate to return. Then we made fun of Dana Carvey, H & H left for Stephs and I actually, in some weird fit of motivation because it was probably one thirty, finished my work for today. Hollie came back, we fought off the rapists as she went to her car and, in a moment of danger, steered her, telephonically (yeah yeah) away from Jane and Finch and back to the 407 and sleep.
Thus ends the Hollie adventure.
Oh and there were tunnels.
Monday, February 24, 2003
07:26 p.m.
Today's surprise goes to ... Jane (since I her digital gallery just helped me procrastinate from writing my proposal)
Jesus... As in her dad taught religion.
Animal print drawers... As in furnature.
Nice.. As in she is.
Everything! As in stuff.
Silly Jane.
Saturday, February 22, 2003
08:00 p.m.
Well surprise surprise:
 | Bedtime Bear |
Thursday, February 13, 2003
01:12 p.m.
One day I will bring a camera to class...
Lecture (live)
"Okay now drag the saturation slider till the image is black and white. Or you could go to mode... yes mode.... then grayscale. Now the text tool is in the tool bar. Click and type... there it appears! You can use different colours as well. Use the "move" tool and move the type around..."
Please note that we are exactly midway through the semester and have already completed two major projects. If you can't use the text tool by now, you are screwed.
This class makes me want to bang my head against the expensive Mac flatscreen monitor.
Monday, February 10, 2003
11:49 p.m.
I feel like plesantly surprising someone. Today it will be Hollie. Here is my acrostic ode to Hollie:
Hand-ass (as in "Lady" as in "inside jokes from grade 10").
Otters are cute. I'm sure Hollie agrees (right? right?!)
Linda Her!!!! Hahah that was easy...
Laura is my name and I am friends with Hollie.
I think Hollie is funnier than this poem!
Elephants wish they could wear glasses - just like hollie (occasionally).
Just call me Voltaire. Wait... was he a poet? Fuck no. French philospher/"social activist/civil/human rights guy. He was pro stuff" says my roomate. Fine. We'll settle on Shakespeare. Just call me Shakey.
Monday, February 10, 2003
11:40 p.m.
Slowly, but surely, I am falling asleep. Mmmm sleep.
Sunday, February 9, 2003
11:05 p.m.
My school is extremely close to the Toronto International Airport. When I first got here, I was amazed about the ammount of air traffic and how huge the planes were as the soared right over our heads. All the buildings have airplane lights.
At night, in the cold, the planes look like comets: a ball of light with a long tail. Its like being in a middle of a cosmic storm.
Seven months later I still look up and count the planes. Especially in Type class.
Sunday, February 9, 2003
11:02 p.m.
Haha... I thought I had a midterm on Monday, Feb. 10th when really its on the 10th week of the semester (sometime in March). How humourous!
Still better than my friend Derek who wrote a 3000 word essay and then found out it was 1500.
Tuesday, February 4, 2003
08:36 a.m.
It sounds like someone is trapped behind the wall. This would usually scare me to death but I am in a well lit computer lab on Tuesday morning and my TA is between me and the "noisy wall".
Thus whatever it is will get her first, allowing me time for escape.
Sunday, February 2, 2003
01:52 a.m.
It was nice while it lasted...
For some reason it is now tropical again in the room. I am almost sweating while I type. It was even worse last night when the power went out and thus could not be deluded into being cooled by the fan. Fuck you electricity.
On the "bright" side, hanna and I decided that power+outtage=hanna/laura brand chaos. So we got up and ran through the halls with a candle. However, you should probably note that the incredibly bright emergency lights were on and it was also 6:30 in the morning.
Thursday, January 30, 2003
01:08 p.m.
I am watching my icy pears start to warm and rot (well at least they wont task as good at computer-lab temperature).
In the middle of small, intimate, quiet, classes like this I like to noisly search through my bag, find my orange tic tacs, shake 'em a bit, shake out two little mints then throw back my head and swallow them.
This all must be done while your hands hides the Tic Tac package and you must do it every 5-10 mins. The results: everyone thinks you're kicking back speed. Or, at least, caffine pills in a way Jesse Spano would be very proud of.
I'm so excited.... I'm so excited.... I'm so.... SCARED!
Actually Miss Spano is the new "trend" in York rez these days. Followed closely by Homestarrunner and Jeff Goldbloom.
Monday, January 20, 2003
11:59 p.m.
I'm having a hard time getting back my groove.
I feel like I keep missing the beat. You know, when you're dancing, shaking that ass, and all of a sudden you loose the beat. You're just off and look like an idiot, while everyone else is twisting, jumping, swirling or performing something similar. This even happens to me while I do the "Toronto" -- the name bestoed to the tendancies of people in Southern Ontario to refuse to get up and move at concerts... instead they just stand and bob their head. Seriously, I read this in the newspaper (well "Rosco").
Anyways its a very lonely feeling and it especially sucks with regards to "real life".
Sunday, January 19, 2003
11:00 p.m.
Today my dad said the Raiders would win.
And they did.
I wish I could harness some of his psychic abilities (it must be genetic - right?).
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
10:36 p.m.
I'm living under a huge self-loathing cloud today - maybe even this week. And I hate myself for it.
I just feel like eating an entire box of chocolates by myself... jealously clutching the box to my chest and refuse to share with roomate, Rob or Lydia who will eventually pop by this evening.
Thats the hard part about rez. It's hard to eat food alone.
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
11:08 a.m.
But seriously.
This weekend Jessica is coming to evaluate my life here at York - not really in an offical capacity but still, I value her opinion. Its weird - a meshing of worlds. I hope she likes my friends, and they like her. I hope its not too boring for her - everyone is going home and I have some work to do. At least we have cable.
Anyways Im planning a whole bunch of things that I'd never do on a regular basis (ie downtown clubbing) so my life will seem glamourous and neat.
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
11:06 a.m.
Argggh! I'm sitting in multimedia and we're creating storyboards. We've been creating storyboards for the last hour. I personally finished my storyboard in five minutes while my TA was lecturing on storyboards. I am very story-bored.
Hahahahaha. Oh I slay me.
Tuesday, January 7, 2003
11:38 p.m.
In typography we were give chocolate bars (chocolate bars!). My two loves... fonts and chocolate one at last. Unfortunatly I have to analysize the packaging.
But I still get to keep the free chocolate.
Tuesday, January 7, 2003
05:56 p.m.
Rinsing your mouth with Kerosene is the equivilant to brushing your teeth. And breathing fire.
Hanna is running around in her bra.
The simpsons are on.
I lost my ring somewhere in my bed.
Lydia just walked in.
That potato is eating the carrot.
Von Fish is swimming.
We're waiting for Derek and Scooter. For dinner.
Hanna now has a shirt on.
Saturday, January 4, 2003
04:10 p.m.
Funny story: Back in the day, my dad, Peter (or Petey as I will call him in this narritive as this story takes place in the sixties and Petey is just a sixty-ish name) would walk my mother (Aida) home from highschool. When they arrived at her house, my grandmother, in an effort to "sell" her daughter off, would make these huge, elaborate duck/turkey/goose meals and probably a bunch of strange Lithuanian food.
While she was serving Petey, grandma would repeat "Do you like? Aida make. She's good. Aida make. Aida clean good. Aida cook..." ignoring the fact that little Aida was at school all day and just walked in the door fifteen minutes ago, Petey in toe.
They got married anyways.
Wednesday, January 1, 2003
08:22 p.m.
For some reason I cannot accept the fact that it's 2003... wait, no. Forget that. I can't seem to be amazed/happy/aware of this new year. It just seems like:
a) yesterday someone just decided to make up this whole "new year/2003" idea and use it as an excuse to throw a party
b) New Years has yet to come/we all missed it and yesterday's festivities was just sort of a "make-up". You know... like when people miss your birthday so you go out a week later and while you have fun it still feels like nothing special because its not really your birthday.
I don't know... it just doesn't feel like a year has passed. This is probably due to the fact that:
a) I am an adult and thus cynical and see the true, mundane side of the holidays (ie they are just days... its us human beings that make a big deal of it)
b) I was drunk last night
c) I am unusually fond of these "multiple choice" formats.
Wednesday, January 1, 2003
12:25 p.m.
Today at eleven, like the little half-breed irish immigrant I am, I peeled potatoes for my whole family. This is unusual as I am usually asleep right now - but no worries... I am planning on a midafternoon nap.
Sunday, December 29, 2002
01:53 p.m.
Let's see if I can find something un-mundane to say.
If you haven't noticed, I've been plagued with a bit of a writer's block lately. Actually it's gotten so bad that I can't even imagine writing something amusing. I guess this is an apology of sorts...
On Christmas it snowed like a bitch. Well, why is this so unusual? Because, contrary to popular opinion, it doesn't snow that much in Ontario. We rarely get a nice white christmas and must often settle for a "brown with bits of green" one. Then, like some sort of Christmas miracle, it snowed Christmas Eve. Since I could of cared less this year and thus did not "pray" or "beg" for the white stuff like I did previous years, I cannot take credit for this little miracle. In fact I'm ready to put it down as a coincidence except for the fact that I like the idea that somewhere a little kid's wish came true this year. Fucking kid. I wish I could control the weather and zap annoying people with lighting.
Tuesday, December 24, 2002
09:31 p.m.
Merry Christmas All
Saturday, December 21, 2002
09:33 p.m.
"You have a choice: left butter or right butter, democrat or republician. CHOOOOOOOSE!" - my mom.
For a woman with twenty years of drinking behind her, my mom is quite the lightweight.
Sunday, December 15, 2002
03:49 p.m.
Living on campus so long, and thus using only my legs and a subway line for transportation, I pretty much forgot about cars. Now I'm paranoid of them ("What is that large metal horse yonder? Oh NO! Tis a device of the devil! Get back ye metal beast!"). For some reason I'm convinced myself that the overwhelming sense of dread I get before entering a car is some premonition...that somehow I've become psychic and I know if I get into a car it's going to crash (or something will crash into it).
However, I know, deep down, that I'm not cool enough to be psychic and that these paranoid fears are just a manifestation of my parents' anxieties (its the holidays! there are a lot of drunk drivers around!), leaping out of the way of crazy Toronto drivers, and the fact I can barely walk on an icy street let alone drive on it.
I hate this entry with a burning passion. It's dull. TWO TOWERS IN TWO DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, December 13, 2002
02:22 p.m.
In Manitoba there's a guy (really? oh yes I know how shocking) who likes to get a case of beer, drive out to an empty field, put the car in reverse and let it wander wherever it wants to go (leave a trial of chickens, slow cows and unaware farmboys with sling shots in their pockets in his wake).
Friday, December 13, 2002
02:16 p.m.
So it's been a while. I guess I should super-condense (like orange juice!) the events of november so we're all caught up:
- stress
- got into 1st year design show
- got over exboyfriend (yeah for emotional freedom!)
- stress
- drinking
- AK, Laura M, Daniella visiting (formed giant ordgy-like lovenest when pushed both Hanna's and my beds together)
Oh, I've also designed my own engagement ring at 3 A.M. last night.
Saturday, December 7, 2002
04:56 p.m.
Sorry, my life was swallowed by design for a month. But now I'm back and unproductive as ever! Woo!
Friday, November 22, 2002
12:33 a.m.
Oh yeah must write acrostic poem about my roomate who is somewhere on campus drunkingly dancing on table tops. Well I image so.
Helene. Now engaged to Aaron to horror of roomate.
Anna. Rhymes with Hanna.
Nuts. Im sure Hanna has eaten nuts sometime during the past 19 years.
Not another N.
Angry when I (unintentionally!) wake her up in the morning.
Thus concludes the shittiest shit poem ever created in the history of man (yes that includes the acrostic poem me jess stine and jen wade made Justin for his birthday... the one where we spelt his name wrong). One day, roomate, I will right you an epic sonnet that will last for the ages.
I am so procrastinating right now.
Friday, November 22, 2002
12:20 a.m.
I am such a looser. The pleasures of university life are definately lost on me. Here I am, midnight on pub night, working. Horrible horrible work. But why am I working you ask? Well, ignoring the obvious reasons...
a) Last night American film student Ryan (with the strongest American accent in Canada) hung out with Hanna and I till three o'clock in the morning which was very random as we haven't spoken to him since Frosh Week. This, on my part, was a stupid move. I had class in the morning.
b) get home from class. Pass out on bed.
c) Get up. Watch Will and Grace. Start working on essay as everyone in a ten block radius gets ridiculously drunk.
Anyways funny quotes! YEAH!
"Stick it in YOUR coal shaft!"
"L...l...ounge... Lou... oh fuck. I can't speak. Just sign me up for Canadian lessons."
"Yeah, Hanna your art is... nice."
"...and then he masturbates on a Barbie doll. We used shampoo."
"I seriously will only be successful if I make porn. Its so sad."
"NO! WAIT! I have a funny story. This is how my parents screwed me up. When I was pre-grade two, my mom and dad sat me down and said "We're getting a divorce". But... like they never actually did."
Okay I forget the rest. I was half asleep anyways.
Saturday, November 16, 2002
10:15 p.m.
HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER was great.
Thursday, November 14, 2002
03:42 p.m.
One of my biggest "things" (and I have many) is that I despritely desire to have a career in a field I love and thus live without regret. Thus, when days like wednesdays happen, I get grumpy.
It was just a little thing. One stupid bad mark. Stupid. But it was on this project I literally worked my ass of on. Three weeks of my life reduced to a C+. And I don't even know why I'm so inefficent as "Bill" never comments on our final work.
Anyways this is nothing new. Visual Language is a horrible, meanspirited, evil class. Interesting oh but definatly evil. However whenever I get a bad mark, especially in Visual Language as my success in that class is hanging by a thread, I start to question everything.
Am I in the right course? Why aren't I successful? Is this a sign I should be doing something else? To tell you the truth, if I could see myself doing something else, I'd probably get out of design as quickly as possible. But thats the thing - I can't. I love this program. I couldn't "do" anything else. If I seriously fail this year and get kicked out, I'd end up at home sitting on the couch. I have no second choice. Wouldn't it just be so pathetic if the one thing that your one passion is the one thing you absolutely suck at?
These were the thoughts bumping around in my head while I wandering aimlessly through Sheridan when I should of been studying for the exam in my next class (ok now seriously tell me - is that fair? RIGHT BEFORE MY FIRST FUCKING EXAM!).
SO I had a little artist fit.
Then a reality check: in all my other classes I am pulling an "A" or, at worst "B+". The average in Visual Language is a "B". Currently, even with stupid project, I have a "B" in aforementioned course with only one major project to go. Thus I am doing fine and that whole ranting/bitching ugh...rant is basically just the lack of sleep and food talking. Freshman fifteen my ass. I'm starving over here.
Another "thing" of mine is that I can't spell.
Saturday, November 9, 2002
08:53 p.m.
Two things that strike me as strange:
i) That cleaning your impossibly small dorm room can actually change your inner being. Right now I feel so cool you cannot image. All because Hanna and I cleaned up and put on a CD.
ii) Sharing a room with someone means sharing their life. As I type this my roomate is just outside the door, saying the first hello to her boyfriend since their fight on the phone two hours ago. And I'm sitting here, listening to Saves the Day, a witness to it all.
Ah! Just overflowed with all-over happiness of being in University. It happens sometimes. You're just walking and all of a sudden - wooo! - wave of happiness and sunshine. Then it receeds and you feel normal again: just another cynical, stressed, lonley student.
Saturday, November 9, 2002
07:55 p.m.
In a race for chocolate I sped out of the dorm room, down the hall and crashed through the door into the lobby. I gave a polite nod to the porter and continued my sprint to the vending machine. Fifteen seconds later Hanna bursts through the door and skids right into me. We choose our chocolate, arrange the platter and eat it with forks.
Tonight Mel comes. Our room is the cleanest it has ever been and ever will be.
Sunday, November 3, 2002
12:05 a.m.
It snowed. It snowed.
Yesterday morning Hanna woke up and screamed "GAH!".
Me: "Whhhha?"
Hanna rips open curtains to reveal frost-encrusted campus like holiday musical or similar.
Me:"GAH!"
Yesterday I stood by myself for forty-five minutes on a Toronto sidewalk. It was one long cold stand. I cannot believe how much hatred one can develop for, not only Hollie and Dan who were forty-five minutes late and thus the source of my misery, but at all my friends as they are somehow connected to the aforementioned people (i.e fucking jessica and her fucking store which is right next to fucking star video where fucking hollie works. fuck). Finally they showed up and I was never so glad to see anyone in my entire life.
Tuesday, October 29, 2002
12:38 p.m.
I crave the burrito.
Tuesday, October 29, 2002
01:06 a.m.
p.s. don't tell anyone but (i miss him). SHHHHHHHH!
Tuesday, October 29, 2002
12:49 a.m.
What are you suppose to be thinking as you watch your exboyfriend's chest slashed open, as he's staring right at you screaming for help, on the rez kitchen counter?
Today our rez had the "Haunted House Showdown" and Jon, the recent ex, was apart of the horror I witnessed on the third floor.
Now if I was especially bitter, I would have probably thought "YES! SLICE THAT FUCKING BASTARD OPEN!". On the otherhand if I was still obsessed I could think about throwing myself into the path of the blade. However, as I watched the knife cut through his shirt and reveal the bloody hamburger meat, posing as spilling guts, my only thought was "Wow. What a funny situation I'm in." Then I laughed because he was watching my reaction and I really didn't know what to do.
Another incident... before that entire gorey scene I actually saw/hung around him for a bit for the first time since last monday. It was actually weird how unweird the situation was. Does that make sense?
Anyways it's too late to be writing such emotional drivel.
Friday, October 25, 2002
01:34 p.m.
Quotes of the Week:
OR, I was bored in Critical Issues and made a list of quotes. Please note Wendy Wong was the speaker for Critical Issues and thus recieves a lot of quote time.
"I am Salior Moon - but not the pink one." - Wendy Wong, Design Prof, speaking on identity.
"It's hard to see your face without a mirror." - Dr. Phil
"If your bored on a trip - sleep with a hitch hiker." - Dr. Phil, but dubbed over by David Letterman.
"Me like clouds." - Number one reason why people join the Air Force.
"You feel sorry for this lamp - thats crazy!!!" - Ikea Commercial
"VRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM! F." - I Can Draw Better Than Your Kids Site.
"Extra! Extra! Laura smells!" - Scott, yelling down the hall as he ran by my door and into the night.
"Okay this means I have to kill the pixel man - pixel man you are over." - Wendy Wong, again, talking to her self as she changes the slide.
"...interdisciplinarity..." - Prof. Gillespie, worst prof in the world. He likes to make up BIG words.
"Mr. Nietzche, you recieve a D minus. Your work, 'The Case of Wagner' was boring, pointless and shit. Your examples were ineffective and stupid. Don't quit your day job." - Hanna and I grading the readings we have to do for FACS 1900.
"As a designer, you must take ordinary things and create new concepts. For instance, take a cat and a bus. Make a catbus!" - Wendy Wong.
"Mass media is EVIL! They are doo doo dooooo... I can't swear in English! I'm sorry. I don't know... they are dirt on the floor! DIRT!" - Wendy Wong, yet again
"So the nazi's tried to create a race completely devoid of flaws, faults. They wanted to be supreme superhumanists and make them... ugh, ugh, ugh,... (ruffles through papers for five minutes) PERFECT!" - Gillespie.
"It's not hard. It's not hard! You can touch it!" - Scott to Michelle in Critical Issues (he was talking about his hair... dirty minds.
"You are NOT baking cookie dough on a Thrusday night. It's like friday night, but thrusday. Errr... it's not a loser thing to do... wait it is a loser thing to do." - Hanna, yelling at Lydia and me for our proposed pub night plans.
"That's interesting, everyone in this picture is white. Even the rainbow is white. Perhaps in an ideal world, everyone would be white isn't that right, Rachel? Or should I call you RACIST? Nice try, Hitler. F." - I Can Draw Better Than Your Kids
"You feel sorry for this creamer? YOU CRAZY!!!!" - Ikea commercial.
Monday, October 21, 2002
04:20 p.m.
Dear diary.
The weather is mild. Oh yeah I also got dumped.
Monday, October 14, 2002
12:55 a.m.
Everything in my life right now has almost worked out - almost. But I guess nothing can be too perfect.
A scene from last night at the Casino:
Three women, dressed to kill, enter through the large mahongany doors. Four men, each of whom has donned a stylish suit and could be James Bond (well if you squinted - joking!) followed in their wake. They were dressed as highrollers. As the ladies step up to the change counter, the lowly casino employee gasps.
Lowly employee: Wow aren't you ladies dressed up tonight.
Ladies: Yes, we're high rollers.
Lowly employee: REALLY?! Wow. So how much do you need?
Ladies: Ten dollars - in quaters.
Thus we played the slots, lost it all (but in style!), and drove around for an hour looking for an overly-priced Denny's. This is what happens when Hollie turns nineteen.
Thursday, October 10, 2002
06:24 p.m.
Someone is picking off random people in Maryland and I never knew.
Thats the thing about University - nothing can touch you here. The outside world? Your old home? It's gone. It's located in the dark, empty space just outside campus walls. When you finally breech the fence and return, it seems like University was the dream. It's just like Never Neverland.
That's why war can happen in the middle east and not effect me. Bombs can't fall on York, it's removed from reality. Everything else is just a movie and so you become desensitized to it. You become innocent again. Well an innocent whose legal.
Then one day you turn on the TV and see the real world. That's when it hits you again: reality is horrible and ugly. And I'm glad I live here.
Wednesday, October 9, 2002
06:54 a.m.
I thought I'd be up till one working on a design project last night, but I was wrong. I was up till 2:30! What's so horrible about this? The fact that I had to get up an hour ago so I won't be late for the bus to Sheridan. Fucking Sheridan.
The Queen is going to Sheridan. Will she be there today? NO. She's fucking going tomorrow. I wish she'd get there early. I wanted to have lunch with the Queen. FUCK.
But I do get to go and pick up art supplies.
Tuesday, October 8, 2002
08:49 a.m.
Anyone want to see my first multimedia page? Huh? Huh?
Click here. Be warned we only allowed to use the HTML knowledge we've learned in the course so far. Yes, thats right, thats how far we got in a MONTH.
Saturday, October 5, 2002
03:05 p.m.
I have been staring at this screen for three hours (i.e. ever since I got up). I feel gross. I need to change out of my pjamas. But I can't. My clothes are in another room, rolling, twisting and flopping around in soapy water and thus are unsuitable for wear.
When we had a cat, we tied a bell around his neck so we'd know when he's coming. Actually I really don't know why we did that. I wasn't born when my parents picked him up from his litter and presented him with the bell. The same bell he wore for the rest of his life and that now sits at the bottom of a box on my dresser. Anyways so they tied this bell on this cat like it really mattered if they heard him coming or not. It's not like he was dangerous.
Anyways sitting here, in the corner of my dorm, I can hear everyone in the residence moving around. They all have bells - well keys on lanyards but still produce the same effect. Its so the administration can hear us coming.
In the sixties when this campus was built/moved, they constructed secret tunnels underneith the ground to be used by the military in case we all rebelled or something. Some of these tunnels are fairly well known now and others are not. My dream is to seek them all out, just incase the campus is one day under seige.
Also the ceilings of the dorm rooms are made of asbestos. YEAH!
Saturday, October 5, 2002
02:19 p.m.
My life is now sustained off of taco bell (cheesy gordida crunch - no lettece or ranch sauce. Note to stine: it's good) and microwave pasta.
But what if pizza is more your thing? Well then Pizza Boner is for you!
Friday, October 4, 2002
10:04 p.m.
I never did my laundry today. I was suppose to do it last saturday.
Wednesday, October 2, 2002
06:56 p.m.
I was going to have a whole "fuck the world" entry. Serious I was on the verge of tears all day. I am subpar, abnormal and below average. I should go stab my eyes out with a large stick and scratch my face off.
Then I got home and the most wonderful thing happened, the ONLY thing that could ever cheer me up: I won free art supplies! YEAH! FREE ART SUPPLIES! Just because I entered some stupid draw. FREE ART SUPPLIES!
WOO!!
Fuck but now that I talk about it I'm feeling depressed again. Hurry, someone give me free art supplies again before I run into the Humber River with a pocket full of stones.
Note: That was a Virgina Woolf reference. Since I'm now in university I can do the whole "literary name drop".
Note (again): I'm not suicidal. Just very upset. And alone right now.
Tuesday, October 1, 2002
05:07 p.m.
AH! OH FUCK! Let me renew my love for Lord of the Rings by showing you this: new trailer. Glorious.
Tuesday, October 1, 2002
08:18 a.m.
Just thought I'd let you know that today is the class from hell.
I'm so preparing (after my four hour lab) to have my first, offical, University nap as I finished everything thats due tomorrow and thus deserve a little breakie (versus last week where I stayed up til all hours trying to matt that stupid stupid stupid square thingie).
For Hollie's birthday we are all going to a casino. We also have a mandatory dress code: fancy smancy. Even the guys have to wear suits. Then we can pretend we're high rollers at the Brantford Charity Casino (or if we're luckily, in Niagra Falls).
Man I wish I lived fifteen minutes away from Monte Carlo.
Thursday, September 26, 2002
08:20 a.m.
Yesterday, in the middle of the forth floor commonroom, we built a fort (as it was "fort day").
Don't worry I took pictures.
Then I watched fifteen minutes of the old Batman movie - in the fort-(excerpt:"Yes Robin it was certainly noble of that kind and gentle mammal [porpoise] to throw itself in the path of the torpedio. TO THE BAT CAVE!"). I highly reccomend everyone renting it this very second (though not all at once as then there would be a certain drought of old Batman movies). Anways I had to go research but the crappy kind (ie print out everything and pretend I'm a good student whose been reading away instead of building a fort with my slacker friends who then proceeded to sleep in it).
One more class then FREEDOM! FREEDOM (for another weekend)!
Monday, September 23, 2002
06:11 p.m.
I miss my dogs.
*sigh*. She's really not sniffing the flower... just trying to eat a bee.
Saturday, September 21, 2002
12:58 p.m.
Ever wonder what a dorm room looks like? Or at least my dorm room? Well your prayers are answered. Annoucning the Wonderful Fantabulous Spectacular Laura and Hanna's Dorm Room Tour!!!!
Friday, September 20, 2002
09:49 p.m.
It's 36C with the humidex. That's hot. It's hot, I'm in Canada, and it's September. My dorm room has no air conditioning. My dorm room is above the boiler room. Thus it is extra hot. Thus I have fans. Lots. One on my desk.
I'm hungry. I ate a handful of salt and vingar chips for dinner. I wanted nachos but had no cheese. At home I would of had cheese. I could go get cheese but its dark and scary. The down side of living alone.
After I ate these salty snacks I needed some chocolate. Earlier today I froze Hersey's Kisses. My dad gave them to me before I left last time. He said "Every time you have one..." I thought he would say "then you'll have a kiss from me. But no he said "Every time you have one, you'll have a kiss from the dogs". I am eating the Hersey's kisses. The wrappers are cluttering my desk. Everytime I put a wrapper down the fan turns and blows the aluminum onto the floor. As the fly, they make a scraping noise along the cheap wood. Then I must bend over and pick them up. The proccess repeats.
The whole purpose of the entry was, in two paragraphs, to tell you all that I'm an idiot for being too lazy to turn to my left and deposit the wrappers in the trash can.
Thursday, September 19, 2002
01:34 p.m.
LOOK! I found my brother's page and he writes poetry! Colour me intensely shocked!
Thursday, September 19, 2002
12:57 p.m.
Once my art teacher said that the best thing is to have your work discussed, whether it be horrible or amazing. Medicore is failure in the fine arts.
Sometimes it feels like I'm winning this huge challenge of adapting to a new life and other times... well I feel like I'm not doing that well. My first design critique was yesterday and while the instructor only hated two of my thirteen pieces (which I will freely admit I don't like much either as well and did them in incredible haste so I'd have them done on time) he still didn't react to the rest. Ok except for one that he was sort of positive about afterwards. Its hard because I just want to be fantastic - thats all. And not to brag or anything but I really was quite pleased with few of the pieces I created for yesterday. I was satisfied and thats a lot coming from a perfectionist.
And I know everyone says that it's hard to do extremely well in post-secondary education and that one should expect to be medicore (especially on your first assignment), but I just can't accept that thought for some reason. I refuse to do poorly. I refuse to be an average designer. I will drive myself absolutely insane by the end of semester because I just can't deal with failure.
But what happens if I do sink? What will I do then?
Probably become a spy.
Anyways these were the thoughts chasing themselves around in my mind last night and now, after walking out of class and being ambused by ten different people who I know (thus affirming my value as a person), I'm starting to feel better about everything.
Saturday, September 14, 2002
06:51 p.m.
I'm home right now and university feels like a dream.
Last night I was hanging around with the regular crew (outside the movie theater) when someone suggested that this was just like "old times". Then I realized that "old times" was like two weeks ago.
Friday, September 13, 2002
12:38 p.m.
OH MY GOD! I just realized that its FRIDAY THE 13th! Carol must be roaming...
Carol is the ghost on the forth floor.
Second year: You know that rock out front? The one that says "Carol (last name) 1981-1984?"
Me: "Yeah sure."
Second year: Well that's Carol's rock. She died here. Probably from an illness and she haunts the forth floor!
Me: REALLY?! What does she do?!
Second year: Uhhhh she knocks posters off the wall.
Me: What? But posters fall by them selves all the time.
Second year: NO! But dude! They like fall, in order!
Me: ooooooookay.
Despite the obvious weakness in this legend (no one actually knows why the Carol rock is out there) people still gather every time the lights go out and hunt for her. Then they get smashed and dance around.
Another Winter's story... one day a girl broke up with her cheating, bastard of a boyfriend. When he went out she stole all his clothes, mixed them with cement and created a sculpture/mattress. It now sits in the Quad.
Arts students have the best revenge.
Winters rocks! Except my toilet is broken! Fucking toilet.
Sunday, September 8, 2002
01:41 p.m.
I've buried myself deep into my little hole.
Its weird being here by myself. I feel so out of it.
At home, I spend a great deal of time alone during the day and go out at night. However here, at the big U, I feel like I'm wasting time; that I should be out in the great wide world instead of conversing with you, my oh-so-invisible audience.
Then again I dont know where the people whom I know and may one day call "friends" are. I could be brave (like last night) and go out alone and thus pick up new friends but that gets sooo tiring sometimes for such an introverted person like myself.
Bloop. Just talked to Jessica on the phone. *tear*. I miss friends.
Sunday, September 8, 2002
03:36 a.m.
This is my messy little new space... or at least how it looked when I moved in. I'll take a more recent, ugh better picture when its not 3 am.
Saturday, September 7, 2002
12:48 a.m.
P.S. On a personal note: Jane, you rock the proverbial casbah. Congradulations!
Saturday, September 7, 2002
12:23 a.m.
Yesterday at two am the frosh bosses hiked our frosh ass around campus. We then partook in such activities as... screaming songs to wake up other rez's, pouring bubble bath into the fountain, climbing on sculptures, rolling down giantic hills into other frosh, screaming our super secret chalk-full-of-swearing chant on the steps of the Scott Religious Center and reaking revenge on Bethune.
On the second day of frosh week Bethune pelted us with water balloons. Instead of mounting an immediate and violent attack, our frosh bosses pondered over our problem and came up with a creative solution. So, last night, we snuck over to Bethune College and left, in their sculpture garden, a ten-foot paper mache penis. Then we screamed till they woke up. Then we ran.
Oh yeah and some of the frosh bosses also defiled the "Reflecting Pool" infront of the main hall by skinny dipping in it.
This (and more) was all last night during the "Jurassic Stomp" (did I mention our theme is dinosaurs? B/c it is.). By the time we got in, it was five am (we walked for three hours). Two hours later I got up and headed out to Sheridan for orientation and consequently fell asleep during the speeches.
After the orientation us design kids raced to the GO Station to catch a train to downtown T.O. to meet up with all the other visual arts frosh which do not have to endure classes in Oakville. Unfortunately our train broke down and we were late. This meant that instead of shopping and dinner in the Eaton Center, we ran through the streets of Toronto trying to catch up.
Finally we did. Then we were subjected to more initiations by running around in the giant fountain downtown and successfully squishing sixty frosh into a bus shelter.
Since some of our gallavanting caused ruckus/was not neccessarily legal, we pretended we were from the University of Toronto.
Well the entire point of this trip was to go to the CN Tower and then experience night life. We arrived at the tower just in time to see the sun set over most of South Western Ontario. Then I showed people my house/the vague area where it should be, across the lake. oh! I also jumped on the glass floor.
Unfortunately thats where my fun ended as I was dead tired and, instead of partaking in any of the wonderful tours (Indie Rock, Salsa, Psychic, West Bloor, Bear and Melissa's First date (dinner and a movie), Rainbow, Goth, etc. etc.) I signed up for the "I'm Going to Sleep Tour" (thats the offical name).
Hanna just left. She's going to Robert's house tonight then skipping down home for a night. Yeah for my suddenly single dorm room!
Wednesday, September 4, 2002
08:29 p.m.
Want to know what frosh week is like at York? Well here we go.
Lots of happiness. Everyone (especially fine arts students) are really really friendly. All the frosh bosses are chipper. Its like an alternate universe.
Lots of cheering. Sometimes I cheer, sometimes not. Hanna does not cheer. She and the cheer arent on good terms.
The house "master" is insane. His name is Godfrey and he has an accent. He did the Charleston at our college meeting while some guy was playing the piano.
Frosh bosses: wear red shirts with dinosaurs. Very hyper and friendly. Some are a bit crazy. Force you to wear your frosh shirt or squirt you with a water gun. Whenever a lot of us cheer/obey their cheer commands they shout "Good Good frosh you ROCK OUR WORLD! salkdj klasjd laksjlk skjd!" One frosh boss named "Bear" has apparently been there forever and once he just walked in our suite, told me and Hanna that he use to crash on that couch and then used our washroom. In all fairness our door was open and he knows our roomate.
Events so far: cheer off. dead celeb. dance, Absinth opened, ice breaker games, condom olympics, toga dance, monte carlo night, scavenger hunt etc. More to come. The dances start at two am. I didnt go to the toga party as I feel asleep ("Hanna how much longer till toga? Two hours? Screw it. ZZZZZZZZZzzz.").
Wake up is nice and early for mandatory academic orientation.
Getting lost is easy if you haven't taken a gazillion tours like me.
Line ups are insane. Five hours for a meal card. Glad I got mine pre-frosh week.
At first making real friends is hard b/c you're meeting everyone at once. As you go on, its better as there is more time to chat. In fact just had mini-bonding experience with frosh boss/suite mate.
Hanna (or my roomate) is antisocial and (I think) homesick a bit. She went home today. Sometimes I get hit pretty hard with the homesickness and thus have to get out of my room and do some frosh things. It would be very dangerous if I went home now as maybe would want to stay in such a secure environment.
Making friends in a suite is hard as all the frosh arent on our floor (mostly second years) thus very quiet and not so much visiting.
Suite has ghetto ceiling tiles. Suite is also over boiler and thus very hot. However love suite and would not trade it for cramped little double on the fourth floor.
Very little actual drinking. Sure there are pub nights but so far no wild parties. However have been assured by frosh bosses that no one really drinks during frosh that its all later.
Boat party is suppose to be amazing.
Despite cheesiness am starting to enjoy frosh.
Tuesday, September 3, 2002
02:12 p.m.
I'm here in my new building. It has no a/c.
We chant a lot.
I'm currently debating whether to forsake my dormroom (and antisocial roomate Hanna - ie art class friend) and participate in "ice breakers", an event that sounds very awkward and boring but would bring about new friends (hopefully).
Saturday, August 31, 2002
11:32 p.m.
The countdown begins...
Last night was the Jerome brothers Super End-O'-Summer Bash and thus, being the last friday of this summer season, my time here is almost over. Its just Erin's goodbye potluck tomorrow and then... packing.
I went to visit my new home yesterday (and pick up about a thousand cards in the proccess ie. cards to eat, rent books, clean clothes etc. with) and stumbled across one roomate. I'll introduce her to you. She's Emma and is missing a tooth.
That kind of threw me. So I tried to be completely polite, friendly blah blah (as I will be living with her for a few months) and ignore this whole situation. Luckily she's very friendly and soon informed me that she's in the proccess of dental surgery and she is not normally missing various pieces of her body. Yeah! So then, for some reason, it wasn't so awkward anymore.
I also met her dad who was drilling holes into the wall.
I was also chased by a snake on tuesday.
Thursday, August 22, 2002
01:00 p.m.
Hello, fixed the survey. Please try again so I'll have something to read and thus won't eat my toes in boredom.
Wednesday, August 21, 2002
08:56 p.m.
Oh, by the way, I finally got off my ass and redid the survey, my bio and other little things.
Wednesday, August 21, 2002
08:06 p.m.
How excited am I? Oh very much so.
Everyone has disapeared from my house. It's a bit creepy actually. What happens if they don't return? Huge ass party, my house, thats what.
I have brilliant, white, dazzling teeth.
Tuesday, August 20, 2002
10:17 p.m.
Tomorrow, if you're looking for me for some reason, I'll be at the dentist. They called today, resceduling my appointment from a nice 4:00 to 10:00 am. Now I have to wake up for something. Oh fuck it.
Life gets so complicated during the summer.
Monday, August 19, 2002
05:55 p.m.
Today, while I was changing to join Jess and Dan for lunch (they were in the driveway and giving me about five minutes to throw on some jeans before they spuealled away in a cloud of dust and rubber) the phone rang. It was one of my future roomates! Her name is Melany or Melody (M's and y's, when I'm shocked/excited I forget critical details) and is a second year dance student. The other roomie (besides M, Hanna and I) is Emma (a friend of M's).
The reason I'm telling you all this is that there is a minute possibility that M or Emma reads this site and what a great anecdote it would be if we found out we knew eachother over the internet?! It'd be just one more event which would make my life more interesting/more likely to be turned into a tv movie.
I spent ten minutes on the phone with the roomie, by the way, but Jess and Dan were still idling in the drive way. True friends.
Sunday, August 18, 2002
10:12 p.m.
I HATE THIS LAYOUT! Thats the third time I've complained. Ever.
I really tried to work on it today, really I did, but I'm just idea-deprived. Fuck. I just realized that this is what I've signed on to do for the NEXT FOUR YEARS! What if I never get an idea again?!
The Much Music Video Awards really really really really aren't very good. Which makes me sad. Seriously, if you're ever flipping through the television universe and happen upon the 2002 VMMA's run, very fast, in the opposite direction. In fact you should probably take a sledge hammer to your television right now (go on), so you can absolutely minimize any chance that you would stumble upon it.
Sunday, August 18, 2002
07:13 p.m.
Actually that entire generalization down there (ie last entry) is false. I just thought about it some more. Lets just say its true most of the time.
I always start trying to express some "original", "profound" or at least clear idea (ie People hate tomatoes) on this thing and by the end I always realize its not true (ok only some people hate tomatoes). Or only partially. Or that it doesnt makes sense.
ERRRR its so difficult to be such a visionairy!
Sunday, August 18, 2002
07:07 p.m.
Today I'm all about soundtracks. I've been brainstorming movies and specific songs that I've always loved and, using the wonder which is peer-to-peer "sharing", downloaded them.
Actually I can't just listen to music. The notes and sounds alone do nothing for me, they all have to be accompanied by some memory, person, visual image etc. Thus when I sit here and go through my play list I'm just letting go of reality and slipping into some other moment. This is why I can't just sit in my room with a new CD and methodically pick out what I like and dislike. Ok well I can tell what I DISLIKE but like is different.
I'm just a visual person, that's all.
Sunday, August 18, 2002
12:46 a.m.
Oh time for some late night confessions.
All of a sudden I feel like Claire Danes and I'll tell you why in a moment. Not now, now is just a story from grade nine. I had a locker beside a girl named Brenna who once said that I was the doppleganger (what is this?! Big, misspelled German words?) to Claire Danes. That is the first and last time someone has ever compared me to a celebrity. Do I really resemble her? Lets just say I wouldn't make it into the semi-finals of a Claire Danes lookalike contest.
Maybe I could have borrowed her I.D. Maybe. We have the blonde/brown hair and blue eyes (which is a closer match then many of the "licences" some of my friends carry around). But alas I'm of age (at least in Canada) so such an act is unnecessary. Plus I don't actually know her.
So why, five years later, do I FEEL like Claire Danes? Well, I just visited some site (which I won't even link because I'm too lazy to back track and find the damn thing). On this site there was a picture of a girl who sort of (in the Claire Danes/fake I.D. way) resembled yours truly. So naturally I related and projected myself upon this girl. Then I realized she looked A LOT like Claire Danes. Suddenly, in my head I look a lot like Claire Danes, which consequently causes me to feel like I act in movies and go to Yale.
And these two moments of my life are the most I've ever dwelt on good olde C.D.
I swear to you all I am not on anything but a lack of sleep and stimulation.
Friday, August 16, 2002
09:31 p.m.
Lately I've been repeating things. For instance, listen to the same songs, eat the same lunch, sit at the same computer, watch the same show at the same time. Everyday. It's like I've just been reliving Wednesday (when I stopped working) over and over and over again. Like that silly Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Except I accept my fate more... gracefully. Or lazily ("wait, for the rest of my life I just have to relive today? NO! PLEASE! NO you can't.... ahhhhh fine, whatever").
Friday, August 16, 2002
02:30 p.m.
Despite what she may think, Jennifer Love Hewitt is not "Chris Tucker with boobs".
Thursday, August 15, 2002
04:59 p.m.
When I don't paint for a while, I kind of exaggerate my abilities (in my own head of course). Thus, when I see a piece of art I think "hmm I could do that."
Now I'm painting a wall in our kitchen. I was thinking impressionist landscape. Beautiful, easy and appealing. After flipping through art books my mom choose a Renior. A Renior with about fifteen people in it, landscape AND still life.
"This won't be too difficult will it?"
"Ummmm..."
"Well if it's too hard you can just paint a Pollock (ie fifteen second paint splatters)."
I looked up to the woman who gave me life and realize that, unlike OAC art where I did cop out and paint splatters to represent the disharmony of our world, I couldn't do that to her.
"No, Renior's great. Superb."
So now I'm pretending to be one of the greatest Impressionists on our kitchen wall. While sketching out this beast I realized that we'll never sell the house. While my parents will praise whatever I do because they're parents and they're paying six grand a year for my art education, strangers will not accept a student's smudges on their wall.
Oh well, I'm just going to have to work on it FOREVER.
Wednesday, August 14, 2002
02:10 p.m.
One or two nights ago I finally went out to look at the stars (with a special focus on those which move). A group of us headed out into the cornfield/nowhere land which surrounds our little-farming-town-morphing-into-one-giant-Power-Center-crossed-with-a-suburb. Only one of us thought to bring a flashlight.
It was hot. Thick. And although the patch of sky directly above us was clear, there was lightening on the horizon. No thunder, no rain but lightening. And we were on a golf course. We laid out on the tee-off (six hole I think) and stared up. I saw four meteors.
And I missed "the big one".
Now while I was there it didn't really seem that special. I mean I only stayed out for half-an-hour-ish and nothing too amazing happened; however as I got up to leave I glanced down the long line of blankets, occupied by a nice slice of my friends I realized that this was going to be one of those "this is what I'm going to remember about my youth" moments.
Wow that was a long sentence.
So it was great. Beautiful. A perfect setting. That's probably what it was. The final shot in some teenage movie. The memorable night where nothing memorable happened.
Saturday, August 10, 2002
07:43 p.m.
Guess where I am? Well at home. But I'm on MY VERY OWN UNIVERSITY-BOUND COMPUTING MACHINE!!!! WOOO! My lovely brother has constructed this beast out of spare computer parts laying around the house (plus a brand new spanking video card for all the graphicing I'll be doing come Septemeber). Thus it shall be christened Frankencomputer.
I love Jack Black. Prehaps not sexually, but musically and move-i-ly (?).
And I'm out.
Friday, August 9, 2002
05:22 p.m.
Work zaps all the interesting things right out of me.
Today is Jessica's birthday. Happy birthday to her.
I'm sorry. I really have nothing to say.
Monday, August 5, 2002
06:48 p.m.
I have never spent so much money in my life this weekend. Insanity.
What else is new... oh currently (as in the previous five minutes I spent thinking of something to write) I started playing my keyboard like a piano.
Sitting to my immediate right is another computer. Yes, another computer. Thus I can visit two pages at once! For some reason my brother thought his life would be enriched by adding more computing power to his desk.
My final weeks of residing under my parent's roof are slipping away. This is evidenced by the growing pile of "dorm stuff" sitting in our dining room. Now I have to buy strange, under appreciated things like milk jugs and soap dishes. My mom even packed me apple sauce. Pens, paper, dishes, phone, folder, sheets and applesauce. Oh and a tin of peaches. I don't get it either.
My brother refuses to believe Signs is a good movie, even though he's never seen it. "It's just like The Patriot" he says, and then his friends snicker and give him a high five.
Last year I was positively frightened and anxious about University. I was dependent on family, friends and dogs... none of which (or practically none of which) will be in Toronto with me come September. I seriously believed that I wouldn't be able to cope. Today, of course, I can't wait to leave, start a life and own my own iron. It just shows how much a person changes.
Tuesday, July 30, 2002
04:34 p.m.
Today I was in a bank. And so was a crazy lady.
She started screaming incoherantly. Then she ran up to the teller right beside me. I was just waiting for the gunshot.
Then security came. Then she tried to cash a cheque but it was post dated. Then They let her cash it anyways; you would too if a maniac was screaming and running around in your bank.
I used lots of "then"s on purpose.
I went to a cottage on the weekend. Lovely cottage. I spent a lot of time laying on the floating dock. So much time that if I lay down now I can still feel myself swaying.
And then I feel the dock spiders crawling up my arms and the serene moment is over.
the ABOMBINABLE SNOW MAN!
According to Christine (when playing Outburst and drinking a Rio Grande), a common name for a dog, besides Rover and spot, is "Jack Russell Terrier".
Friday, July 26, 2002
10:48 a.m.
I am at the cottage.
Well not now, but I will be.
Wednesday, July 24, 2002
10:06 a.m.
Oh yeah and someone email me the howard password b/c I can't get in.
Wednesday, July 24, 2002
09:51 a.m.
Exciting night...
First my lovely car, who has never given me any problems, blew a tire on the highway. Me, being dumb, thought the sudden loss of control was due to the "wind". Then I thought we hit something/one and were dragging them off the exit ramp (it was a bumpBUMPbumpBUMP noise). Then I realized it was a flat.
Luckily I was not alone: I had Jess. Jess assured me that she had some idea of how to change a tire because she thought she read an article on it in Seventeen.
I love Jess. She's a math genius girl but I wouldnt drive a car that she tinkered with. I wouldnt drive a car I tried to fix either.
So we called the automobile club and they did it for us as we stood around looking like helpless girls. Especially me as I was :
a) wearing a skirt
b) had no idea what was the licence plate/year/number to my cell phone (though the auto people couldnt miss us: ie to semi frantic girls jumping up in down in a Sunco parking lot).
However we did redeem ourselves by finding the spare tire and getting it out of the trunk (which was difficult - I never knew tires were so heavy) even before our auto-saviours-in-the-manner-of-Christ came. The guy even commented on our prowless. While this comment could of been/probably was sarcasm he looked like Mario from Mario Brothers (well to me anyways) so I let it go.
To reward ourselves and our cool survival/real world success, we went and ate ice cream/waffles.
So I was feeling pretty good about myself. I couldnt wait to get home and tell my parents a rather embrodered story about the dramatic evening ("and then, there was a HUGE bang and we started skidding like mad and we were crying but I kept my cool and eased into the parkinglot - I even backed into the spot!"). I mean my parents worry about me when I'm sitting at home watching tv so I was ready for the pity and sympathy. But noooo my brother beat me too it.
He just had to go and get admitted into the hospital.
Pff.. showoff.
For the last three weeks he's been REALLY sick. When I got back home last night, it was to an empty house. And well, my sister. They were there all night. Literally I got a call at six this morning saying that dad was coming home for a nap. They brought Mark in at nine and never saw a doctor till three am. I just dropped my dad off and picked up my mom (who hasnt slept in 48 hrs and started to repeat herself when talking to me) and they STILL have no idea what it is (flu? anmonia? appendicitius?). He looks fine. When I went this morning I thought I'd observe a shriveled, doped up shivering little boy (mostly from computer withdrawl) but nope. He was laying there making fun of Alana.
Good part of this whole debacle? NO WORK FOR ME!!!!!! HAHA! Take that will indexes!
Thursday, July 18, 2002
09:19 p.m.
Today, insteading of working, I went on a boat cruise.
And it rained.
It hasn't rained in two months. My life is a comedy.
HAHAHA and you thought you were getting a REAL entry.
Friday, July 13, 2001
04:36 p.m.
AH! I hate some people.
I am in want of a change
Wednesday, July 11, 2001
05:59 p.m.
The other day I saw a fully grown man with short arms in a tailored suit. I later learned (as I work in a law office) that he's a judge. That made me so happy.
Wednesday, July 11, 2001
05:58 p.m.
"Hey baby I ain't no Fred Flinstone but I can make this bed ROCK!"
Wednesday, July 11, 2001
05:56 p.m.
Sorry, I work now. Work hates webpage updates so I try to keep them seperate.
Friday, July 5, 2002
04:36 p.m.
I work at a law firm where I index wills. Yup. Seven hours of typing in names, dates and numbers from little index cards into a computer. Needless to say I must make my own fun. So I play simple games.
a) The Oldest Will Game: 1900. That was this morning. Thus the Oldest Will Game is over b/c they threw all the wills out preceeding 1900.
b)Funny Name Game. Like Peebles Hendrike. Or Henry Higgins (AHH!). OH! Funny story: Today I was typing away (blah blah). I was doing the "H's". So I'm imputting Mr. Hewood's information into the machine, double check and then flip to the next card: Charles Hey. Thus, when added to the database (last name first), my screen read "Hey Charles". I laughed for fifteen minutes straight and I'm not joking ("HEY! CHARLES! Hahahaha! HEEEY! CHARLES! HAHAHA!"). Finally I composed myself and moved on to the next card: Mr. Hey's wife, Doreen. Unfortunately they're both dead (oh). Thus I amused myself for thirty minutes and earned seven dollars.
c)Spy Game (Without Robert Redford or Brad Pitt. Oh haha). Now in this one I'm either a 40ies-esque spy girl or a more modern day version (depending on what I wear). I get to play this one when a card is missing information and I have to go searching in the ancient "Will Vault" to get it. Sometimes I walk with a limp to disguise my identity.
d)Murder Mystery Game (what happened to the italics? I dunno!). This is just guessing which spoiled heirs offed their rich aunties for money. Played with a British accent (well at least I have one in my head) and an Agatha Christie attitude.
e) The Date Game. This is where I get excited when the date on a card has special signifigance (oh! its my sisters birthday! Oh its Jenn's birthday! Oh! Thats today!). Since I have yet to find a card with my birthday, the rules/standards of the game are getting lower. I.E Say if my birthday is May 19 (which it is) and I find a card with April 19 or May 17: then I win and get excited.
These are all the things I do to keep myself from going insane.
Thursday, June 27, 2002
10:50 a.m.
Today I must babysit the little cousins. I haven't be in charge of children for five years. I'm scared that they'll overthrow me in a bloody coupe. That's why Jess is coming over. She'll be my boogyman (or woman).
Yesterday Hanna and I shopped for dorm decorations. We basically picked everything out, second guessed ourselves and put it all back save a lamp and candle holders - two things we dont need.
But they're very pretty.
Our whole "concept" is exotic, eceltic, "worldy", gypsy-like with veils. Well cheap exotic-eceltic, "worldly", gypsy-like with veils.
Just like Mrs. Weller: "We need veils. Veils! Veils! ominmous veiling!" (That only made sense to five people, however maybe I'll clear it up a bit if I say Mrs. Weller was a highschool drama teacher).
Tuesday, June 25, 2002
03:16 p.m.
Last year it was dreadfully hot. Stine, Jess and I, ie those without day jobs, would constantly hang around my house and wish for a pool. Any pool. Bitch bitch bitch moan moan moan. Then, on Jess's birthday, she got a kiddie pool. This was in August. "Fridge-crossed-with-swimming-pool" August (yes that is stolen from Briget Jones' Diary). Kiddie pool was never used.
Fast-forward to June 25, 2002. Eleven A.M. I get a call about a pool; a certain kiddie pool. We just needed to blow it up first. It's 35C today and climbing, so my reponse (and Jessica's whole attitude) was basically:
"Kiddiepool! Ilovekiddiepoolstheyaresogreat!Yeahforkiddiepoolscantwaitforkiddiepoolsthiswillbesomuchfun!gooookiddiepools" and so on.
After the first two hours (of blowing the sucka up- which included a failed trip to the gas station air pump), our joy started to waver. Stupid huge-ass kiddie pool. It was 38C and we were sitting on the ashvault watching the old air pump cough, sputter and grind air into this thing. Addy (Jess's boy and the other memeber of the kiddie-pool opening party) amused himself by constantly duct-taping the pump onto to pool and proding it with his fingers, pretending that he knew what he was doing/when it would be done. Jess and I, however, rolled around on the ground out of frustration. We also made sandwiches. After two more hours it was ready.
Then we sat in ice water (Jess put ice cubes in it) for an hour and I went home.
We have decided NEVER to deflate it.
Monday, June 24, 2002
08:48 p.m.
Last night my little digital life meshed with my even littler real life as I met Leah. We made her kiss a haunted tree. She's such a sport.
Having nothing to occupy my thoughts, I've started to obsess about myself and shorts. I hate shorts. I'm lazy. I should go and run. I shouldn't eat a popsicle. I shouldn't have slept in till tweleve and then take a three hour nap at two.
However I tell myself that since school has not offically ceased to be (that kicks in on wednesday when I drop in to collect my marks), I'm not really wasting my summer. Nope. These past few days are a pseudo-summer. I can waste them because they dont exist.
Shhhhh don't burst my bubble.
Next week I must work. Then maybe I'll stop thinking about dumb things.
Sunday, June 23, 2002
02:02 p.m.
Thanks to the terrific and wonderful Sarah and Christine, I can now enjoy delicious pan bread.
Friday, June 21, 2002
04:40 p.m.
Ahhh it feels like someone's been kicking me in the back of the neck. And that person's name is calculus.
Yeah I know that wasn't really funny.
Exams are over, and so the summer shinanigins begin.
Since I've been hibernating in a little nest of exam reviews and thus ignoring everything fun and interesting, I really have nothing to say.
Monday, June 17, 2002
03:45 p.m.
Arrrgggghhh. Exam time. I just feel like floating away...
Thursday, June 13, 2002
11:17 a.m.
Big geek moment (to those who care less,sorry I just have to say it): GILES IS BACK ON BUFFY NEXT SEASON! Wow. Between that and my new life at university next year is looking pretty smashtic!
smashtic (said with little accent on the "smash"): new word. Meaning exciting, scary, monumental.
Thursday, June 13, 2002
11:06 a.m.
After my bout with the "wall o' spiders" on tuesday (well...there was a wall of spiders), I have, once again, been bombarded by a plague of arachnids. Okay maybe not a plague (there was just one) but it confirms all my paranoid therories that spiders are out to get me.
Picture, if you will, me walking up the stairs last night - sleepy and ready for a nice 7 hour nap. All of a sudden I look up and theres a giant spider on the ceiling, over the stairs (and right in front of my room). Now usually I'd scream and get someone to kill it with a kleenex but heres the thing: they've learned. Those damn beast have evolved human-like reasoning skills because the spider was sitting right over the stairs and thus untouchable. Unreachable. I cried.
I swear I could hear him mocking me.
No one could get it and so they all went to bed. Except me. I was on spider vigil. I knew that as soon as I went to bed that it'd scuttle across the ceiling and duck into my room. But I wasn't going to give it the chance. I'd wait all night untill it moved and then... smush. (Smush=waking up my dad and forcing him to kill it with a kleenex).
Ok I lied. After five minutes of "Spider Watch 2002" I got tired, found the vacuum and sucked that sucka up.
Ok OK I got my dad to get the vacuum while I stood on the sidelines screaming.
You know what the sad part is? I was still worried that somehow the frail beast survived the suction of the vaccum (like James Bond) and was waiting, waiting inside the machine to craw out and reek its horrible revenge.
You know what the scary part is? This whole spider attack is part of a worldwide offensive... go read Jenn's journal... she knows whats going on.
Thursday, June 13, 2002
11:04 a.m.
Vague, general, philosphical statement (oh boy): its really funny how much stuff I actually write on here and all the stuff I leave out (unintentionally!). Its like either way I'm half a person.
Sorry, ok thats done.
Monday, June 10, 2002
11:47 a.m.
Ooo look at me, I took a quiz.
Your song is: Solitary Shell
Which degree of inner turbulence are you?
This quiz was made by Dionae
Saturday, June 8, 2002
05:33 p.m.
Nightime. Busy street. Station wagon full of girls (and Adam - the driver). Convertable seats in truck. Seat belts for everyone.
Hollie: Ewww those guys beside us are checking us out.
Camera pans: green van: two guys staring at us in the car. Everyone: "Ewww/gross/ugh/*sarcastic waves*/Addy (Adam) go beat them up!"
Strange car signals, and pulls behind.
Jane: AH! Now they're following us!
Hollie: Hey they have 'bling bling' strobe lights
.
Everyone: hahahahaha thats so James Kim.
Strange, mini-club-in-van van then pulls up on the other side, right by my face. Strange van rolls down window.
Strange Van: (flashes badge) Police. pull over.
Everyone: oh shit.
Then they proceeded to:
- Accuse Addy (Adam) of drinking
- Accuse us of stealing the car
- Accuse us of hiding drugs
- Accuse us for not wearing seat belts.
- Accuse us for carrying around a vodoo doll
- Sexually harass Addy (ie saying "Your pants are falling down" five times in a row)
- Accuse us of transporting alcohol
- bug hollie's licence
- Make us late for the movie.
...and of all counts we were innocent. In fact no one got a ticket. Silly cops harassing us wholesome movie-going children.
Thursday, June 6, 2002
11:08 a.m.
For some, reason my allergic-to-logic sister stayed after school yesterday to look at the stage. Why? I guess to make sure its "stagey" enough for her final monologue in drama. Now pay close attention: for the last five months she has spent over an hour on this stage EVERYDAY.
On a side note, her monologue is somehow a combonation of the life of Demi Moore and the spectacular spectacle which is "A Chorus Line".
Tuesday, June 4, 2002
07:03 a.m.
I never want to archieve since I dont know where the pages go!
Instead of sitting in calculus class I am sitting here at my computer,waiting for eight-thirty. Eight-thirty is when the Advising and Liason office at the Fine Arts Faculty at York University is open and thus are able to adivse me. Yesterday I picked my scedule for next year and last night I decided to changed it. I'm waiting to change it. I'm deathly afraid that something will be full and its back to the drawing board but I heard White Stripes and then Nirvana (Smells Like Teen Spirit) on the radio today and decided that it will be a good day.
Four day weeks next year! WOO!
In more, bitter news, I didnt get into Queens Fine Arts (bastards). I wasnt going to go, and its not a good program but rejection always hurts. Then I learned that two thousand people applied to the 110 spots of the program I'm in and for 110 spots. Plus I'm in the top 10%. That made me feel a little better.
A lot actually and I dont mind bragging about it on here.
My dad told my brother and sister I was staying home to watch the Korea/Poland soccer game because "well her friend Hanna is polish and her friend Jessica is Korean and so its a 'big game'". I hope he never tells them the truth.
Thursday, May 30, 2002
07:47 p.m.
I want to update more.
Oh wait I'll just complain again. Why is it that whenever someone bitches they always feel so apologetic?
In addition to watching National Spelling Bees, I've also read a whole Dilbert comic strip collection (hence the bitterness towards life in general).
Thursday, May 30, 2002
07:34 p.m.
Inarticulate rant: stupid stupid...blargh just stupid. For some reason I am all frustrated and confused about next year. All that previous enuthasiam is gone...*poof*... and now its just impending doom. DOOOOM. Its not what I want. But it is or it could be? I hate this.
If you dont know, I accepted my offer for a bachlor of design in april at a shitty school. Its ugly and gray and in the ghetto. The only reason I'm going is that its the only school that has this program and its a really really really really really really good program. But when I tell adults about my plans they just sort of smirk. "No but really, its an amazing accomplish to even get accepted into this program. Design is big." "Oh yes dear I'm sure it is." BLAHHHH! So I guess one part of this mess is my selfesh need to be praised.
The other part? Its ugly, gray and a long way away from anything. Plus my second choice is a smaller, beautiful old campus, basically perfect for me. BUT its program is just fine arts. Thats it. No REAL application for the real world.
Now last week I was all fine and dandy with the situation but now I'm starting to second guess. Which do I love more: design or plain olde fine arts?
And I dont know.
Plus everyone else is sooo happy with their situation. They are sure of where to go. They're excited while I'm bitter, twisted and cynical.
Sorry about all that... I havent gotten
a) any enrollement info yet and my appointment is MONDAY
b) any word from my second choice as to whether I got in or not
And so I am just... I dunno...blah! Plus there's nothing to do in here. I just feel trapped and when I'm trapped every little issue just attacks. I mean I watched an entire Spelling Bee championship today.
I really need to go out this weekend (thank god for Hollie's BBQ!).
Sunday, May 26, 2002
05:20 p.m.
I like it when people update. A lot.
Mmmm there's an arby's in the mall...mmmm.
And so ends the crapiest entry in the entire history of the universe (due to my brother kicking me out of his chair).
Saturday, May 25, 2002
05:30 p.m.
"But what the townspeople failed to realize was that for fifty years the prison was under the control of vampires".
Last night at one am I was huddled in Andrew's basement watching Italian TV with the people I spend my friday nights with (namely hollie jess addy mike andrew brent give or take a few people). Basically the entire premise of this show was an Italian guy interviewing people at a club in Montreal and asking them the same four questions for an HOUR (and everyone giving the same answers because they were dumb questions. Well everyone but the drunks. They were a bit more creative).
Here's a sample (imagine booming techno music):
Q:"Ok why do you think this club is called 'Plastique'?"
A:"What?"
Q:"PLASTIQUE! WHY IS THE CLUB CALLED PLASTIQUE?!"
A:"Huh?"
Q:"WHY IS THE CLUB CALLED PLASTIQUE?!"
A:"Why is the club called 'Plastique'?"
Q:"YES!"
A:"Oh. I dunno."
Q:"Ok next question. What is your favourite object made of plastique?"
A:"WHAT?!"
...and so on until the END of TIME.
Actually the questions guy was just trying to get someone (anyone!) to say that their favourite plastic object was a dildo (and thats not a joke... seriously he was trying very hard and would suggestively raise an eyebrow and prompt 'you know you're favourite toy? Eh? We won't tell! You can tell us ANYTHING!').
And so passed friday (actually we did go out to a restaurant earlier so we aren't total freaks).
Wednesday, May 22, 2002
10:50 a.m.
I've been nineteen for four days.
I'm sorry. I usually try to write things which have universal appeal but, as a favour to all those who were cottaging-it-up this weekend I have to give a moment and write down some inside jokes as everyone knows how exciting it is when you're mentioned on a website. It sort of confrims that yes, you do exist.
SO to Jenn, Crystal Hollie and Rue: EHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Dumb sluts. "I dont have a till back here". "ahhhh...yello?" Boob-cake-icing. "I'm GONNA GET TRASHED!". Rue loves boobs. Cupid Central. Handsome dads. boiled/bbqed/baked/microwaved hot dogs. the "loon". Spice World. "Hollie? Do you have to pee yet?!". Steven Tyler fish. Steven Tyler jacket. "I want to get yelled at by adults!". Quoting sophies. Sesame street bagel. lady bugs. "Kick". "Big Pimp'n". Did the leafs win? Muzak (sp?). "Eww thats gross! Brush your teeth in the bathroom!". Dirt farm. Ace! Crystal drinks!
And so on.
Have you seen Zoolander? Do you remember how HE thinks he won the VH1 model of the year but it was really Luke "funny nose" Wilson (or his brother I forget which)? And then he feels all dumb and embarassed? Yeah well that happened to Susan Lucci at the Emmy's. Haha. Dumb slut.
Thursday, May 16, 2002
01:38 p.m.
Long Weekend...cottage...celebrating my 19th (and thus reaching legal drinking age) Canadian style. Woo!
I love my friends. They're grand. Everyone. Even you. LALALALALALALALALA (pre-birthday glee).
Today Mr. Pedder (calculus teacher) told us how he got engaged...
Mr. Pedder's girlfriend (now wife): "If we're going to get married this summer, we better start planning so I can get a dress."
Mr. Pedder: "ugh...ok."
Another funny story involving my friend, Jess, and her younger brother, James, who calls himself (and his friends) "The Allliance" and sings along to backstreet boys, Celine Dion.
James: "I want to get some chrome on the wheels of our car."
Jess:"Why the hell would you want to do something dumb like that?"
James:"Because it'd be bling bling."
Whenever I think about these stories I laugh. Hahahaaha.
Wednesday, May 15, 2002
10:56 a.m.
Hollie, who works in a video store, has informed me that my site is named after porn.
If your skin was ripped off your body in one fluid motion, would you die right away? I mean eventually, probably in a couple of minutes even, the shock to your system, temperature change, exposure to the elements etc. would kill you but for about thrity seconds you could walk around going "Oooo look at me! I'm insides-out man! Muhahahaha!". Of course this is what did not happen on Buffy last night.
Monday, May 13, 2002
10:58 a.m.
Here's a joke I just told Jenn. If I actually know you in real life, don't read it because I'll probably want to tell you one day and then it'd all be ruined and my life would be in shambles.
Q: Why do elephants paint their feet yellow?
A: So they can hide upsidedown in your custard!
Thursday, May 9, 2002
11:42 a.m.
That whole last entry was just an excuse for me to slip in the fact that I went to a party on saturday and found out that abortions are free. Not that I need one or even support them, its just a weird piece of information.
My brother doesnt believe that I'm a spy. This is even after I snuck up and ambushed him...twice. Man, if I was ordered to take him out, he'd be a goner right now. Did you know that Canada has an intelligence agency? CSIS. Its either very good and secretive or nonexistant since I learned that from reading Tom Austin mystery novels in grade school. See Tom Austin is a boy from Winnipeg who travels all over Canada and some how always manages to find trouble/mysteries...the nut. It educated us young Canadians on geography, history and canuck super-stealth spying techniques. Anyways he wanted to be a CSIS agent.
Last year my grade tweleve math teacher told us to work for the CSIS you had to get a government job, any government job, and take a test. He knows this because he use to work for the governement. Even though he refused to tell us what he use to do, I don't think he was a spy; to teach us parabolas he made a work sheet titled "Home Home on the (doman and) Range".
Sunday, May 5, 2002
09:03 p.m.
Education outside the classroom: subconsciously everyone believes that things you learn in school are more important than those "things" you learn in the outside world. Thats why people discourage you from dropping out at sixteen.
I know this isnt a blindingly original statement, but it just occured to me how that we "learn" all the time. Like last night at Jane's party I learned abortions are free. And if you think about it, this silly piece of information could be more important, more life-altering significant to someone than the derivative of the inverse of tan.
Thats why we should have parties instead of school.
Saturday, May 4, 2002
03:17 p.m.
Yesterday I went to go see spiderman and when I got home there was a spider in my room.
oooooooooh how ironic.
new email address? yup. Since I've always loathed hotmail (for the same unexplainable reason that I hate Kristen Dunst) and figured that when I have to supply a email address for school, work etc. it would be better if "showgirl" wasn't in the title. Plus this one is shorter.
Thursday, May 2, 2002
04:45 p.m.
Do you know how much i hate this version? A lot. Ugh blah. Ok actually i just despise the superficial bits stuffed here and there to make a good design portfolio piece (who else would care about my "inspiration" behind the page anyway. I certainly don't). Stupid quote too. Gah blah gah...
Sorry, don't mind her, she's just a bit sick right now and feeling that gross self-loathing often brought on by microscopic bacteria. I wonder what her page would be like if she only wrote in third person? Would she annoy you? Maybe she'll try it.
She's just too lazy to fix anything right now... I guess she probably shouldnt complain then. However she will fix that damned quote as soon as her computer, complele with adobe photoshop and images, will stop being a git and connect to the internet. Hehe..git.
While she's been sick she's read four novels and now that she thinks about it, they were all British.
Anyways she wants anyone to send in quotes at her brand spank'n new email address lolatheshowgirl@hotmail.com. Is this just her cheap way of getting more email? Prehaps.
Wednesday, May 1, 2002
11:45 a.m.
New email account! lolatheshowgirl@hotmail.com. Sorry its so long but i hate having an email address with numbers in it.
Monday, April 29, 2002
09:15 p.m.
So this is what happens the day i start my excercise program... I get mortally ill. Bah! I hate sickness. Die die die...
On another "not so good" note, my email server isnt working so I can't get mail. Double poo. I was going crazy today with being sick/nothing to do but luckily Jenn stopped by with some of my old books (and then some). The "then some" being the Hobbit (which I havent read) and a homemade bookmark from my special customer at the erotic massage parlour (though jenn assissted in the illustration of the bookmark). Yeah!
Friday, April 26, 2002
06:02 p.m.
More quote fun (hey, don't I have a quotes page? Shut up you!)
"Golden, Ripe, Boneless Bananas, 39 Cents A Pound."
- Ad in the "Missoulian" by Orange Street Food Farm
"The internet is a great way to get on the net."
- Bob Dole, Republican presidential candidate
"It's time for the human race to enter the solar system!"
- Dan Quayle, former U.S. Vice President on the concept of a manned mission to Mars
"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society."
--Mark Twain
"You are welcome to visit the cemetery where famous Russian and Soviet composers, artists, and writers are buried daily except Thursday."
(in the lobby of a Moscow hotel across from a Russian Orthodox monastery)
Friday, April 26, 2002
05:59 p.m.
Britney and Justin belong together:
"Every relationship I've been in, I've overwhelmed the girl. They just can't handle all the love. " .
--Justin Timberlake
"I get to go to lots of overseas places, like Canada."
- Britney Spears
If you don't know (and I really dont see how you could) I'm bored and looking around goodquotes.com.
Friday, April 26, 2002
02:40 p.m.
Gnome, tweleve o'clock.
Monday, April 22, 2002
10:43 p.m.
All of a sudden I just got very very frightened.
I should really update in some sort of substantial way.. but I'm not.
Today I watched "Worst Witch" and "A&E Biography on SNL". Needless to say this has been quite a random tv-watching day.
Hmmm Jimmy Fallon *gurgle*. I should admire him more often.
Since the school play is this week and since our school does not contain a stage and since our cafeteria must suffice, all the lunch tables have been moved into the foyer/lobby/big space by the office. It was very strange... I walked into school today and had to pause for a moment to think "Hmmm... theres something different...".
Thursday, April 18, 2002
11:11 a.m.
To add to that last entry, its funny how this whole leg-covering war blew up during the heat wave. It's also funny that the principal who made up the rule is a man. Furthermore its extremely humourous that the guys have been wearing wear their pants down to their knees for years and nothing has been done about it. Oh hahahaha...
I'm not sure if I'm bitter, amused or outraged.
On another note... the heat wave continues and theres a party tomorrow.
Thursday, April 18, 2002
10:58 a.m.
Due to a small group of skanky-Britney-Spears-wannabe- grade nines, were not allowed to wear knee socks with our kilts anymore.
As you may (or may not) know, I go to a Catholic school and must wear the "catholic school girl" uniform everyday. and knee highs are great. Why? Well besides being THE fashion item in 1995, they are a lot more comfortable than tights (even though wearing knee highs means you have to shave all the time).
Apparently since these freshman skanks roll their kilts up to their boobs and then wear thong underwear (what?!), our BRILLIANT administration believe they can weed out the root of this immorality by making us all wear tights. Yes thats it! By stuffing us into hot, tight, ugly blue tights we're all sure to find God, repent our sins and turn to a life of celebacy! Why didn't the Catholic Seperate School Board realize this earlier?!?!?
Of course everyone is outraged, especially since the administraition thought this problem was so immediatly and deathly serious that they changed the uniform code in the middle of the year without a meeting of the uniform council (headed by both teachers, students and whatnot). So one girl called the local paper and they ran a story. Then the Toronto Star/Sun got wind. Then the news stations. Before you know it my aunt emails my mother from Phillidephia to let her know that the "battle of the knee socks" has crossed borders.
*le sigh*. what a fucked up world we live in.
At least I only have two months left then off to art school where I can join the crowd and wear capes all day.
Wednesday, April 17, 2002
02:11 p.m.
Pictures are fixed (and the heat wave continues).
It's really too hot to write anything... I'm going to take a "siesta" (oh how contentiental of me). You see, when its hot like this "aftertoon-nap-o'-procrastination" gets a more romantic, cosmopolitan title.
Tuesday, April 16, 2002
04:26 p.m.
I can't believe it. It's April 16. I live in Ontario (Canada) ie land of ice and its fucking 30C (about 86F). Beautiful. Wonderful. Hot. I'm in my sundress/pj thing (I can't decide if its pjs or a dress) and I'm hot. I am wearing no sleeves and sweating. You think I jest?!
On another note, shower crayons + me = 1 1/2 hour showers.
note: for some reason my ftp program decided to bite me in the ass and not work properly so unfortunately the pictures do not work...... yet.
Monday, April 15, 2002
03:08 p.m.
Hey I just realized that I'm not going to be a spy. Mmmm. Quite depressing actually.
Monday, April 15, 2002
02:56 p.m.
I got into my first choice. York/Sheridan design. I actually got in last week. It's been a strange week. I mean with the single tick of a pen I've created my theortical future. Theoretical as in if I don't get hit by a bus/rabid cammel tomorrow/any other of life's wacky curves.
After I got in I went to the big T.O. to see the graduates show. I got the closest anyone can get to seeing where I'll be in four years.
Again theoretically.
It was strange to see all the graduates beaming, hugging parents etc. as it was one of the biggest days of their lives, while I ambled through, collecting buisness cards and thinking about the twenty-minute-rain-soaked walk back to the bus station. While they're going to remember this the rest of their lives, next saturday I'm going to be wondering just what did I do last weekend.
You know, us gals are huge bitches, but we bond like sisters. It's fucking amazing really.
That last paragraph was just to lighten the cliche-like mood of this entire introspective entry. Just incase you didn't get it.
Friday, April 12, 2002
09:29 p.m.
AH! GAH! I just turned on the tv and there was my grandmother DANCING! Apparently they recorded the show she was in for television. Ah this is a very weird moment of my life (and I thought I'd like to share it with you).
Tuesday, April 9, 2002
11:41 a.m.
I've decided that if I can't get my Bachlor of Fine Arts (or Design), I'm going to be a spy.
Saturday, April 6, 2002
06:18 p.m.
I'm playing chicken with the doorbell
Saturday, April 6, 2002
06:17 p.m.
Hmm writing vague sayings is a fun way to update without, you know, really updating.
Saturday, April 6, 2002
06:17 p.m.
Oh the irony of it all.
Saturday, April 6, 2002
02:32 p.m.
Grrr
My little sister's boyfriend just broke up with her, which is fine because I never liked the guy. And THEN later on he phoned my sister and told her that he still sort of liked her and he was feeling all bad blah blah and he'd call her back. The problem was my siter already talked to my sister was a "waste of his time". And That he didn't feel bad enough to try and go see on of MY friend's band's concerts tonite (which is a 16 plus show). I am SO tempted to tell them to turn him away from the door. Or at least kick him. So if any of you out there go to the Sewing With Nancie show tonite and see a midget with a unibrow - thats him. Ass.
BTW he still hasn't called back.
It's kinda funny in a weird awkward way to tell the guy you're seeing that you have to be home early tonite so that you can have a "I hate boys" pity party with your sister.
Saturday, April 6, 2002
12:24 p.m.
Am I a love pariah?
Anyways this past week I've realized that my dad's a good guy because of two things:
a) on easter when my family wanted to see my entire portfolio and thus have my emotions, ideas and inner thoughts paraded around aunts and uncles who I only see twice a year and mummble "oh well THATS interesting" my dad was the only one who respected my decision of "please god no." And then when they all ignored my answer (headed up by my mother) my uncle rushed up into my room and started to display my work for all. During this time my dad helped me escape to Jessicas to avoid the embarassment of my grandfather filming everything.
b) yesterday he drove me all the way to Kingston (3 hrs away) for an interview, spent 1/2 hour in the car looking for an Arby's for lunch, didnt eat anything during my 4 hour interview and then was perfectly willing to drive another 1 1/2 hours in the opposite direction of our house to Ottawa so I could see the art gallery and the drive 4 1/2 hours back home. We didn't end up going because I discovered that the art gallery would close before we got there but it was nice that he'd go out of the way to do something special like that. Awww.
Enough about that. Hmmm I really have nothing more to share today. Sorry this entry wasn't scandulous or anything.
Tuesday, April 2, 2002
03:50 p.m.
In the small little subburban town which I call my home, there is a fairy big house which sits on the corner of the first intersection on our little "main street". This is where one of the more eccentric citizens of my fair town use to live.
Emphasize "use to live."
Apparently he was quite successful in something that earned him enough money to buy this huge house and its immense property but then by some mysterious circumstances, well mystertious to me anyways, he lost all his money and was forced to sell the house. The house but not the land, oh no not the land.
Well at least not all of it.
On a little corner of this piece of land he's set up camp. He lives in a tent (a nice tent mind you) but a tent nonethelesss.
Understandably, his house is still, after a few years, up for sale. I can just image the sales pitch:
"Oh yeah you got there your indoor/outdoor pool, master bedroom with onsuite, pool room, spa and oh yes, and a tent with a crazy man who lives inside. You may want to keep any small children/cherished family pets away from him."
I dont know about you but if I bought that house, I'd get real nervous and lock my doors at night.
Cause, you know, he's got to be bitter.
I think I'll name him Trent. Tent Trent.
Monday, April 1, 2002
04:50 p.m.
It's weird when you read someone's jounral for a very long time and then get big news like this. It makes you realize they have lives (unlike yourself) outside of entertaining you.
Sunday, March 31, 2002
09:33 p.m.
This is my grandmother un-bunnied by the way.
She can still do the splits and hula dances. She also went to clown school this year however you would never guess it if you met her. She's still one of those "oh dear me" types.
Sunday, March 31, 2002
09:27 p.m.
We were waiting for my grandmother. There was a knock at the door and she came in. That's when we realized that my grandmother likes to dress like the Easter Bunny. A scary, murderous one at that.
Sunday, March 31, 2002
12:00 p.m.
AH! They're putting an Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall! Arby's in the mall!
Sunday, March 31, 2002
11:59 a.m.
Did you know in france that instead of an Easter Bunny a giant bell from Rome flies into Paris to deliver the chocolate?
Saturday, March 30, 2002
01:42 p.m.
Last night a bunch of my friends (and I) went to see Lord of the Rings. Some of us have seen it, others hadn't and some like Jess really really really really didn't want to see it but we clubbed her over the head and dragged her there. Half-way into the movie (when the first formed the nine members of the fellowship) we realized there was nine of us and me and aly fought over who would be an elf. Well today someone sent me a quiz and i AM an elf so there :p. Maybe not one of the fellowship but still a character with pointy ears, celestial costumes and can (probably) walk on snow (ie elf). Hehe the quiz even gave me a tag:
 | Galadriel "If I were a character in The Lord of the Rings, I would be Galadriel, Elf, Queen of Lothlorien, wife of Celeborn and grandmother of Arwen. In the movie, I am played by Cate Blanchett." Who would you be? |
Sorry I had to have my geeky moment there.
Thursday, March 28, 2002
05:05 p.m.
A HAHA! Just went here and was informed that there exist, in this wild and crazy world, actual mini-horses which lead the blind!!! You know... instead of dogs. And they wear running shoes. This almost makes me want to poke my eyes out!
Click here for more information.
Thursday, March 28, 2002
05:02 p.m.
I think I'll start to go here more often. I also think, since I have nothing else to do right now, I'm going to "surf" around and use this blog as sort of a chatroom where I chat to myself and write little pointless entries - like this one!
Thursday, March 28, 2002
04:59 p.m.
I hate HATE HATE that quote over there (look to your left, under my big stupid pseudo-candid shot). It's from a movie somewhere and though everytime I read it, it makes me groan it is so true. Or at least it was when I put it up. Even then I hated it and knew I'd regret it.
Thursday, March 28, 2002
11:48 a.m.
Do you know why blogs (with the exception of Bobby's) are so boring? Because the majority of us lead boring lives but for some reason we feel the need to promote our boringness by recording it on the net. If we were smart we'd start to make things up.
Or start to lead more interesting lives.
I mean, if Superman had a blog... now that would be quality entertainment.
I know I'm a bit dim for realizing this TODAY after seven years of online-jounralling-it-up but its so obvious that I really never even paid attention to it. The exception to this cosmic theory is your real life friends, since:
a) there is a possibility of them mentioning your name in their entries
b) there is a possibility that you may learn something new about someone you actuallY CARE about (or don't care about).
c) there is a possibility that you would find out that they are secretly in love with you or that they secrety despise you and such admissions would make your life more interesting and journal worthy.
Sunday, March 24, 2002
02:35 p.m.
I am in such a mood to paint but for some reason I just can't start.
Last night I went to watch some friends in a Dance Competition. About every fifteen seconds I'd mumble "I want to do ballet/acro/hip hop/somethingelse". One dance solo consisted of a girl in a long black dress singing a song without moving. Dance confuses me sometimes.
Most of the solo's were to love songs while the dancers wearing skimpy/sexy/Britney like costumes, skipped around. My best friend had a solo and she was definatly the most scantilly clad (what a skant :) in just a tight red bra thingie and a practically non-existant skirt. How do people have the guts to wear these things infront of a crowd of hundreds I'll never know. SO we were all surprised when one dancer wore a straight jacket and rolled around on the floor pretending to be insane. I guess that was brave too. I don't think she won tho b/c a)people (in general) don't care for such blantant experiements and b) her dance, if you took away the "concept", was just rolling on the floor.
Still it was better than the girl who sang.
Saturday, March 23, 2002
02:33 p.m.
For some reason I'm really craving a Caribbean beach today, but I can't go so I'm doing the next best thing: wearing a lot of turquoise.
Friday, March 22, 2002
03:20 p.m.
This journal and my personal site are united once again. Hazzah! For more me goodness, go here (right here).
Best friend and I did not go on said roadtrip. Her sister caught a ride home with her man so I just went over to bestfriends house for lunch. I was disapointed because there would be no Arby's but c'est la vie.
How did we spend the time? Watching liposuction, muttering death threats to the Crocdile Hunter and being entertained by giant animals and turtles. Oo the fun. Then she left for her dance competition and I went home and realized that people were still at school. I love my half day education.
When bestfriend's sister came home she had a surprise. Arby's! She didn't even know that we were obsessing over it all day. Just one of the ways fate kicks in and tells me that life can turn out alright.
Thursday, March 21, 2002
09:20 p.m.
When my dogs lie down they look flat.
Thursday, March 21, 2002
11:29 a.m.
I haven't seen my "best" friend in... well ok a week. But before that it was longer and even then... this is my best friends. Girls and their best friends are suppose to talk to eachother everyday and overanalysize every moment so they can fill it with hundreds of inside jokes.
Well my "best" friend is no a highschool drop out (joking! she finished a semester early) and instead of having massive ammounts of spare time, she has three jobs and dances. I however, who is still in school, has so much free time (damn i jinxed it now) that I could send all of you pieces for christmas for the next five years. So our paths don't cross very often.
As you can see, this is very upsetting (to me anyways). Drifting friends always are. I don't know if I should call her my "best" friend. That sucks. But I will anyways, and not just for appearance sake, but because she earned it.
Anyways tomorrow she has the day off so we're going to Brantford in the afternoon for a road trip/pick up her sister.
This is goodness b/c
:
-yea! seeing best friend.
-they have an Arby's in Brantford.
Wednesday, March 20, 2002
09:05 p.m.
One more interview till this journal is back on the old(e) site. Hurrah!
I lost a link. It was magical. One morning (in the literal sense... it was like 2 am) during winterbreak I stumbled across the blog of a girl, its purpose being to chronical her new quest to "follow her dream". So she quit her boring job and is (still trying I presume) to make it as a designer/illustrator or something. Since I decided to practically do the same thing, except sooner (ie avoid the hateful career and go right to artschool) I guess something clicked. Unfortunately I turned my computer off without saving the address. Now I can not find it anywhere. Shame shame shame. It times like these, when my favourite sites have not been updated and I am ripping out my nails in boredem, that I miss that inspiring little site.
Whenever I get a good mark in chemistry, my mom starts to bring up how nice it would be if I become a doctor or dermatologist or an orthodentist. That way I'd have lots of money and time off. I usually sit there silently, and definatly, but in my head the same thoughts are a'running. This conversation usually ends with "but whatever you do, we'll support your decision" and "money doesn't really matter, it'd be nice to have no finicial worries, but as long as your comfortable."
I really lack on to that last thought. I wouldn't mind NOT being rich or living in a small apartment (as long as its clean). I guess the only "perk" I'd want is to be able to travel... but if I live in London, European travel would be cheaper (no flights!) and I'd live there anyways. Happiness. Happiness is my goal (and my mantra).
It hurts though, that they don't really respect my choices. I mean they support them, but they mock them too (my parents were bachlors of sciences before law and thus always made fun of the arts people). In fact they would have a hard time respecting my choice if I was going into just a plain old BA. This whole lack of respect is infuriating, especially since I've always been quite in love with intelligence, with being considered "smart". What will happen after art school?
But then again, I'm proud that I'm going into the arts as well. I've always been a cautious person and hated it. Now I'm actually taking control.
Note: Really though, I think it'd be a lot scarier to go into medicine.
Anyways I can stop fretting as its too late: I've applied. They just have to accept me now.
OH GOD! What if i'm not accepted to ANYTHING!
Monday, March 18, 2002
07:24 p.m.
Oh yeah and I've never been to Disneyland. Just DisneyWORLD. Apparently theres a difference. So just amend those previous anecdotes when you read them.
Monday, March 18, 2002
07:19 p.m.
On my fifth birthday at Disneyland I got/bought a Snow White dress. It was the exact replica of the "real thing" except it was smaller and had a patch with Doopey sniffing a flower on the skirt (why? I dunno). Anyways, as I was watching the famous Disneyland Parade (which goes on like every fifteen minutes) Snow white saw me, gestered at my dress and blew me a big kiss.
...And thats the closet I've ever gotten to a fictional character.
Monday, March 18, 2002
07:14 p.m.
When I was seven we went to Disneyland and I bought a "princess hat". It wasn't a crown, oh no, it was one of those cone hats with satin lining and lace/ribbons streaming down from the tip. I wore it around all day with my "rip-off" shorts and neon green tank top which had a teddy bear on it. I also had one of those clips on the corner of my shirt to give it that "shirt-ponytail" look which was so fab in the late eighties/early nineties.
I was hip.
At the end of the day I was riding on a shuttle and a littler girl asked me if I was a princess. In a huffy and (well I thought) royal voice, I answered "Yes." She gave me a curtsey.
...And thats the closet I've ever been to royalty.
I actually lost that shirt-clip thing that day in Disneyland. I always had a sneaky suspicion that Goofy (the only character I saw) was a kleptomanic who was particularily attracted to tacky eighties plastic fasion accessories.
Sunday, March 17, 2002
09:22 p.m.
Opps...
I wasn't suppose to say some of that last entry. Sometimes I forget people read this (and other times I'm hyper-conscious of it). I suppose this is what happens when your brain becomes public property.
Sunday, March 17, 2002
03:19 p.m.
I just feel like blogging. That's what happens when I read too many journals.
My little friend Dan has been squestered. Dan is in grade eleven but is the most mature grade eleven I've ever met. It's seriously impressive. Well mature in an immature way. You know, like university boys. Mature but very immature. Anyways Dan prefers to run with us mature/immature older 18-20 somethings folk (as opposed to a lot of the immature/immature people in his grade). But this means that his parents are worried. Especially when we keep him out late, buy him black nail polish (ugh that was me) and other stuff. And now he's buddies with Andrew who is not only a year older than ME, but who is also of the homosexual persuasion. (note Dan is not gay). This has freaked his parents out a lot. Now good old Mr. and Mrs Dan are friends of the family and have (in the past) been a lot more leanient (sp?) than my folks but this is getting ridiculous. I mean I see where they're coming from but they should be at least open to meeting some of us and seeing us for who we are: big harmless geeks not drug dealing, gang members.
Oh and to make the situation a bit more confusing Dan is my friend Erin's little brother.
Saturday, March 16, 2002
05:14 p.m.
Time just can't seem to make up its mind. First it's crawling and then all of a sudden its four o'clock. And now it's slowing down.
I don't understand why people want to work so badly. I mean of course there's the money, but apart from that teenage parttime jobs aren't that fullfilling.
I'm being peer-pressured into fun (noooooo!).
This is one random entry.
I'm...trying...to..write...something...amusing...butican't. Sucks.
Friday, March 15, 2002
01:24 a.m.
I went on a driving adventure today. I saw something very cool, but I am sworn to secretcy (unfortunately). I think revealing it on the internet would qualitfy as a major infraction on my promise but won day, after some secret events have taken place, I will tell you all. With pictures (oo!).
Did I talk about the blind date yet? I forget. Well it went very well. He's very sweet, nice, we get along great plus many other desirable adjectives yet I don't know. (idunnoidunnoidunno). I am, how you say "action packed with issues". Jess says that I make these issues up sometimes and this gives me more issues. Isn't that an issue? See how confusing my life is? I'm always second guessing my thoughts, feelings and reality. It sucks. But then again I shouldn't spout off too much b/c who knows who's listening and when I may eat these words. (Do I mean any of this? Or is this all in my head?)
The best thing to do: wait and see. I mean, I still dont know him really if you think about it. He doesnt know me. I mean everyone has an "act" for strangers.
I hope that last paragraph/major body of type doesnt sound like totally bullshit/teenage girl trying to "poetically" express herself/vague. The whole reality is I'm very vague on the subject itself, hence the little clairity. Maybe I shouldnt even write this stuff. Ahh well its one am.
I'm way to protective of myself/thoughts/feelings even towards my closest friends. It's not that I have any deep, dark, secrets, its just that I have a hard enough time telling people what kind of music I like. It's just that sometimes I unconsciouslessly spend so much time keeping people out, I forget they aren't the enemy. The closest analodgy would be love affairs in grade six. When you had a crush on someone you tried so hard not to let them know. I mean the worst possible scenerio would be if they "found out". Of course that's ridiculous because then people would never hook up. Yet even know, eighteen years and all, I still find myself thinking along the same patterns. The double whammy is I love to spill to people and I love it when people trust me with their thoughts/feelings/secrets. Thats why girly-sleepover-bonding is so much fun. There is so much more to be said, but Im tired and spent and may say something wrong.
Wednesday, March 13, 2002
05:27 p.m.
Oh yeah not-so mystery date is tonight.
With this sudden rash of a social life, Hollie and Jess say they can hardly recognize me. They say its a good thing and that I should keep it up by getting someting pierced. This was at Sinkin'ink (the 'local' tatoo/piercing parlour) and was basically just their way of trying to get me to join their piercing hobby because it would cause them great amusement. I did, however, mull over the dare to call myself Lola and speak in a British accent next year and thus fool the entire undergrad student body at York for four years. Jess said I'd probably slip up and then everyone would hate me. I agree.
Sunday, March 10, 2002
11:14 p.m.
Update on blind-date: Well it's no longer a blind date since I accidently met Mr. Mysteryman on friday. The mutual friend who was setting us up had a musical extravaganza show. Apparently he also went to my friends new years eve gathering and so everyone actually knew who he was. Then we had one of those awkward conversations. We still have yet to go on a now nonblind date.
I think I should be more outright.
Tuesday, March 5, 2002
11:24 a.m.
Went to a drama festival last night and let me tell you there's nothing like a bunch of highschool students trying to bring life to a Samuel Becket by play and furthermore convince other highschool students to like it.
Basically they had three giant stone vase like objects sitting dead center with three actors standing behind each. For about twenty minutes the actors did some choral speaking, some poetic lines and left everyone in the audience whispering "what the fuck?". Actually I loved the first five minutes just because it was such a screwed up play. I mean what were those vase things? But even the wackiest play gets tiring after a while. And just to extract even more amusement from my tears, they repeated the entire thing. Twice.
The highlight were the lines "little dingy" and "I'm coming" (because every teenager is always in a sexual state of mind) and when, about half way through, Dan leaned over and whispered "I think those vase things are ping pong paddles."
By the way, the "offical" interpretation was that these three people (two women and a man) were involved in a love triangle and they are accounting for their woes in limbo. Hmmmm...
Ok ok I have to say this: the actors were amazing. How the hell did anyone talk them into doing this?!
Historical Background: Samuel Becket is a playwright from the Absurdist movement. This means that all his plays were fucked up (in a good way).
Sunday, March 3, 2002
12:46 p.m.
My mind works in weird ways. For instance, I can memorize the elements of the periodic table (in order) but ask me to add thirty three and nineteen (like Bobby), Im okay with the three plus nine but by the time I have to carry the one over and add three plus one, I've forgotten the "4". Tweleve minutes after I hung up on York Univerity (who was informing me that my art history interview is on monday) I forgot what time I was suppose to be there. This is why I can't be a waitress.
I also get lazy and don't really try to clarify my point.
My sister woke me up at eight today to tell me her boyfriend (Will or Willy Wonka as me and my brother have affectionally named him) may break up with her. Apparently he has a "hunch" that when they talk they are just "friends". But then again he needs time to think it over. I told her to dump him and then start a blog. Then I went back to sleep.
And thus the morning passed.
Saturday, March 2, 2002
12:24 a.m.
Twenty minutes ago I was eating a brownie sunday. Now, since I've brushed my teeth, my mouth tastes like mini-chocolate chip ice cream. Oh the delights of daily living.
Update on the "Blind date that never happened" situation: we're all going to try again and go see 40 Days & 40 Nights. So if he sucks, I'll have Josh Hartnett to console me.
Thursday, February 28, 2002
12:12 p.m.
Let's try something new... I have exactly thirty eight minutes to kill before Law & Order is on. I can only eat my lunch when Law & Order is on. I'm a bit psycho like that.
So anyway my challenge is to write a blog for these thirty eight (now thirty six) minutes, and its your duty to read it.
Well I have to do something.
This is what happens if you finish school at eleven BTW.
There are just somethings in this world that are hard to believe - like the secret immigration trials in the US of A. Apparently they are arresting Arab immigrants and detaining them in solitary confinement for an indefinate period of time without even charging them with a crime. All their evidence, hearings, proceeding are kept secret so much so that the accused cannot even attend his own case. Some of these detainees cannot even contact a lawyer -- they simply disapear. Now this is especially disheartening when most of these people are found innocent and are released after a few months/weeks with apology. And we're not talking a handful... more like 2,000 people! After taking Law and watching Law & Order everyday, this arbitrary justice is hard to believe. It's scary how an act of hate can contaminate everything.
Twenty eight minutes...
For lack of creativity and general teaching skills, my chem teacher deicded that since she was away she'd just make us peer edit the labs we were suppose to hand into today. Peer edit? Yes peer edit. There's 76 minutes I'm never going to get back...
Today a lady ran infront of my car pushing a baby carriage. Luckily I had the presence of mind to slam on the brakes. I think she was a nanny, she actually looked a lot like the lady who babysat me when when I was three. It's amazing to think I got this far with out a fatal incident or even loosing a limb. Well not just because of the psycho-nanny-who-was-possibly-my-nanny, but just in general. Its an amazingly dangerous world.
Wouldn't it be funny if I died from being hit by a cookie truck driven by an elephant? I know you all would feel really bad, but if (god forbid) I did go that way, feel free to laugh. I would.
Oh, telephone.
Back. AH! Six minutes to go. This thing is going to be massive.
I am so in love with hotchocolate right now. I've been drinking a cup of that power-mix stuff every morning like coffee. Yesterday when I went to visit Aly (the best friend) at her new job in the Second Cup, I ordered hot chocolate. Oh. My. God. There is absolutely nothing like coffee house hot chocolate.
My stomach is slowly eating itself. The dogs are having a mini riot since someone had the misfortune to walk by our house and grad their attention. The clock is ticking... why do I always have to wait? Two minutes!
To my profound lazy delight, my manager has not sceduled me for another week. Now I can enjoy the benefits of having load of free weekends without the guilt of being unemployed. The downside is, however, I do not get paid. Hm.
Done.
Sunday, February 24, 2002
10:21 p.m.
If you blow into my dog's face she will lick you. She's crazy like that.
Sunday, February 24, 2002
06:06 p.m.
WE WON!!!!!!!!!
Friday, February 22, 2002
01:07 p.m.
GO CANADA!
Monday, February 18, 2002
09:19 p.m.
Hmm how do you write a "autobiographical sketch" which "highlights your achievements"? This I am going to find out.
Well to get me some free money I have to write a bit about how wonderful I am and send it to York U (like they don't know already). I also need a transcript of my grades. Now this scholarship info is DUE there, on the admissions desk on friday (yes I procrastinated) yet for some reason my school will ONLY print out transcripts on THRUSDAYS. In case you are not familar with the postal system in Canada (and why should you? I'm quite vague with it myself), my letter will not go, well anywhere, in less than 24 hrs. I mean even now I'm pushing it. Why is my life so twisted?
Go Canadians!
You know what's so great about ICQ? You get those extra five seconds to think about how you are going to phrase an expression so you can always sound like someone on a tv show.
Sunday, February 17, 2002
12:25 p.m.
Hmm I wonder who will see this?
Since chica*boom is being mercilessly evaluated I removed my jounral for practical, impractical and many degrees of practicality in between.
Maybe if I just stoppped writting for a while I could start over again. I mean everyone would stop visiting, everyone I know and don't know. Then I can start to write a little more honestly and not be so concerned with people. So I could be reckless...
Even the fact that this little diary-like space is disconnected to my page as a whole gives me the illusion of freedom. But I know that there are my journal-junkies out there who don't visit chica*boom via it's proper address but just type in the URL of my journal at pitas. So I know they're listening to this.
E! Correspondant interviewing Ewan McGreggor:
E!: So, I know you've been nude in movies before...
Ewan: Yeah
E!: Well I just want to know, has it ever been hard?
Ewan: Excuse me?
Sunday, February 10, 2002
11:10 a.m.
I just realized that in my sleep (or, more realistically when I was at my portfolio evaluation) my sister painted whiteout over some of my keyboard keys and then, with an orange marker, traced little arrows on them. Damn her. Thats what I get for leaving orange markers and whiteout laying around.
why why why why why?
At least if my keyboard is ever stolen by a bunch of keyboard bandits, who are subsequently caught by the police, I will be able to positively identify my keyboard among the thousands of others they've hoarded.
And now for some concrete news which actually has a direct consequence upon my little life:
a)portfolio evaluation- I am "reccomended for admission" (apparently - yeah!) but it doesn't mean I get in. They still have to interview a lot more.
b)mystery date- was a no go. My matchmakers never phoned with the information. So it was a very anti-climatic saturday.
BTW: I'm revamping the site. On wednesday I have yet another evaluation (this time for a design course - god will it ever end?!?) so I'm tinkering with chicaboom to make it evaluator-ready. I may also dismantle this journal section for a few days. I think it'd be very distrating if, when I show up for my interview, Mr.Proffessor/person-who-is-holding-my-future-in-his-hands, says "I'm so sorry Saturday night didn't work out. Are you going to try again?" Although I serious doubt they'd be so interested in the affairs of an eighteen year old girl like me. I mean if I was a superhero then things would be different...
Did you ever think that celebrities take on other identities and write online jounrals?
Wednesday, February 6, 2002
06:21 p.m.
If I wasn't going into the arts I think I'd want to be a diplomat. You know, so I can have diplomatic immunity and be superior to the general public.
I have a blind date (or mystery date... I like mystery date better b/c its more myserious and less of a disability) on saturday. I just found out his name: Mark. AH! It's the same name as my brother. This is strange already.
Actually I'm surprisingly un-nervous. The only thing that has got me worried is that stupid Blind Date show. By total coincidence I've been watching it recently and now I'm paranoid that all of a sudden, during desert, he's going to have a giant thought bubble appear over his head, thinking rude thoughts. But then again, I'm just being silly (or am I). I guess at the worst I'll get desert and some good blogging material.
Tuesday, February 5, 2002
10:15 p.m.
Portfolio shmoolio.
My whole value as a person is being reduced to six pieces (and a sketchbook). Oh and also my ability to bullshit.
This curve represents our society's escape into the blahblahblahblah
I'm getting sick of this. I need clarity.
Sometimes I wonder if they entire 'artworld' is a joke. Really. I mean no one REALLY believes the deeper meaning behind some of these things right? I mean, it's all a secret joke we artist play on the majority of the world full of buisness majors right? Please shoot me if I ever start to believe any of this.
Wait no. Ok I buy some of it. The really not out there, "I am spreading peanutbutter on licence plates which are nailed together to form a giant cross " kind of art but I mean if you a woman holding a letter, staring out the window and say 'look longing for love/despair' whatever I'll believe you. Though it has been done by the way. I mean that's the classical art. Any art from the beginning of the century I can like but when it starts getting into minimalism and headless maniquins riding bikes I'm leaving. Well unless you're making fun of it all and then I'll laugh. Muhahaha. Yeah just like that.
Saturday, February 2, 2002
06:00 p.m.
Blackhawk Down? good
Exams? Alright
New Classes? Fine
Snow Day? Oh yeah.
When I dreamed that I couldn't go to any of my semester two classes because no one ever told me where they were, Aly told me that I had strange dreams. This was a few nights ago. I haven't even told her about last night's bedtime performance.
I had a dream that I was driving around with my friend Hanna (who's polish -- this is important for later). Anyways we met up with her family at this big hall/park thing on the waterfront. It was some Lithuanian/Polish place(I'm Lithuanian); which, as it turned out, was hosting a Lithuanian-Polish ball. It was a real ball too, and it was very strict with manners and customs etc. a la Princess Diaries. The only problem was that I didn't know what to do. Luckily Aly (who mysteriously showed up) and Hanna tried to help me by telling me when I could go up to the buffet (all you can eat!) and what to choose. But since I was an idiot I kept screwing up. That's when Aly and Hanna and Hanna's family turned mean and made fun of me behind my back. So I had a dramatic exit - you know tears streaming down the face, people mocking me in Lithuanian and Polish from the doorway, and me collasping in the middle of the park.
So that was when I decided to 'show them all' and for the rest of this ficitious evening I acted like a princess and I even won the Princess Award. Yeah apparently at the end of the ball they choose a princess. Me. Oh yeah I rock.
Besides being the most confusing dream in the world, its one of the best dreams I ever had. Why? I actually 'won' in the end. Ususually I'm dating a dream guy and he'll break up with me/die/turn out to be a murderous robot. Or I'll be an actress at the Oscars and, yup you guessed it, my name is called but when I get up there the presenter (who has justturned into a giant St. Bernard/chicken and speaks Gaelic which I mysteriously understand) laughs at me and says 'Just kidding!'. This whole fact use to piss me off because it meant that even my subconscious thinks I'm a loser. Anyways I felt much better after last night. Who knew all it took was my best friend and art friend (& her family) to stab me in the back at a Polish/Lithuanian ball?
By the way, Aly is neither Polish or Lithuanian but Ukrainian and something so I don't know how she got invited to the ball. The Polish/Lithuanian community is just letting in all the rift raft these days.
Tuesday, January 29, 2002
08:23 p.m.
Do be do be doo.
I always come online when I'm bored. Since I'm a boring person I'm usually on several times a day which just makes me more upset because people do not update several times a day. Hell, I dont even update once a week.
Ok i do now, but that sounded better than 'every few days'.
Would YOU eat explosive pizza?
Oh! Jess just called! Acutally I am on the phone with her right now! How groovy (Jess says "ooo"). Hehehe.
Jess says she would like to say.... ugh no. she has nothing to say.
See how I fill up this little space with nonsense?
Anyway I've just shamelessly crashed Jess and Addy's date/plans to go see Blackhawk Down. But Jess says thats ok and I reallly reallly want to see the movie but no one else does (except for... Jess and Addy). So I'll be the third wheel this evening. Anyway Josh Hartnett can be my date... even if he's on screen (well ok he's not really there)
blah blah this is making less and less sense... time to walk the pooches!
Monday, January 28, 2002
11:25 a.m.
I'm not one of those people who can lounge around in their pjamas all day. I mean I can lounge (and sleep for a respectable ammount of time) - just not in my pjs. Everytime I get up I have to get changed before I do anything, ANYTHING (even if its just into a new pair of pjs for lounging) or else I feel gross.
Like right now for instance.
I get to stay home today because I have finished my exams. Unfortunatly I couldn't sleep in because I had to book a profolio interview with York U. You see all last week I've been calling them and they have been annoyingly unreachable. Anyways I finally got a hold of some lady (who told me they did not have the interview/evaluation dates yet and that she'd call me later. YEAH! I thought. I'm A head of the game. I'll be able to get my interview in like March and thus making some beautiful art. Unfortunatly the lady I talked to was wrong either because she is a mischivous poltergiest who likes to screw young hopeful art students or she just didnt work there because on sunday Hanna broke the news that she called friday and got an interview on the last day that wasn't booked: Febuary the Eight. Feburary the fucking-next-week eight.
Then I flipped out because it was sunday and I couldn't call York to yell/get an appointment. I mean, who knows how many people called after Hanna? Prehaps the only date left is Feb. 2 (THIS SATURDAY and the first day of interviews).
So I had to wake up during morning buisness hours and phone York to make sure I could get in on the Eigth. After two tries I made a connection with a real live person who DID work there and who was the one who sent me all the annoying application/work. Anyway the Eigth was still empty. In fact the phone call was the first thing I did. Thats right folks, I completely rejected my normal routine and left on the old pjs
This is how much art school means to me.
Actually I still have them on. As it turns out exam week and the weeks full of studying which preceded it meant I didn't do any laundry. The only thing that's clean is my grad dress. Seriously. So now I have to sit, stewing in my pjs waiting for the dryer to stop.
Bah I feel soooo gross.
All this and it's not even noon yet.
Monday, January 21, 2002
05:47 p.m.
Today, the monday of exam week, I got my application package for the York/Sheridan design program. I have to fill out a little questionaire on my knowledge of the history and concepts of design. Ok, seriously I don't even really know what design is. Bah! Then I have to write an essay. So I panicked for a little bit. But then I calmed down. I mean, I can always visit my art teacher, guidance etc. for some help and I have a while to do it right?
Oh no that's wrong. Apparently they have to recieve my application next monday. NEXT MONDAY! Not only does that give me ONE WEEK but this ONE WEEK is also exam week! fuck you admissions at York/Sheridan!
No... wait... I don't really mean that *ah!* please please please accept me...
Even though this isn't my first choice (partially b/c i have no idea what design would entail) I'm still upset. I was starting to really consider the program.
Hmmm since I'm using this page as a part of my portfolio (webDESIGN! see I know something) I better delete this entry before my interview.
Thursday, January 17, 2002
05:50 p.m.
Heh... i just realized i never changed the email address within my survey when I switched from gurlmail to emote. Whoops! Anyways the suvery is now fixed AND revamped.
Wednesday, January 16, 2002
03:58 p.m.
Photojounral for sometime two weeks ago
2:Dan finds some shaggadelic fabric.
3:I find better fabric.
4:Dan doesn't agree.
5:Jess doesnt appreciate such antics. She is a "serious" fabric shopper (yeah right).
6:When you have a digital camera you don't have to worry about wasting filming taking pictures of dumb stuff.
7:Hollie gets game right rolling.
8:AH HA! Proof!
9:GAH!
10:Jess, Jen and Stine think game right is groovy.
Friday, January 11, 2002
04:08 p.m.
a photojounral
1:Aly's mom is coming home tomorrow. Aly needs some groceries.
2:These are my kind of groceries.
3:We need wonderbread. We find pineapples instead!
4:Eureka!
5:Aly craves watermelon. I find apples.
6:Aly gets an idea.
7:My Aly, what larger...err... melons ya got there.
8:Actually it was Aly's idea...
9:If you ever need to buy a sitting dog (that's really laying down) I know where you can get one real cheap.
10:We didn't do it!
11:Au revior!
Wednesday, January 9, 2002
06:20 p.m.
Why do geese enjoy cementaries so much?
There is this huge cementary by our school and when I drove past it a few days ago I thought the tombstones were moving. Then I took a closer look (which was very difficult/dangerous as I took my eyes off the road) and it was hundreds and maybe thousands of geese. I almost pulled over and took a picture. So anyway I thought "So thats where they put them" because before there use to be hundreds and maybe thousands of geese on our football field but they have mysteriously disapeared. I'm assuming those are the same geese. I mean how many geese can one city hold?!
Thursday, January 3, 2002
12:55 a.m.
AH! Fucking pitas. It took me fifteen minutes just to get in. I hate how sometimes pitas just seems to disapear from this dimension just when i need to blog and reappear a few hours later, laughing in my face because of the control it exerts over my life.
Well I've done my daily net routine (check howard, check main, check various sites) and then proceed to blog. I usually do this. This is why I can say that I feel the complete opposite as Dan. I love the break. It makes me hate school. Actually the reason I'm loathing a certain educational institution right now is that I am a lazy ass and have not started on the pile of work I HAVE to do. I mean the last few years I've been a pretty good 'self-motivated' learner. Now I feel like I'm back in grade nine which scares me because it was the shitest year of my life so I don't really feel like a repeat.
Why am I feeling all deja vu-ish? Because grade nine was characterized by my tendancy to stay home and sleep, thus escaping the reality which school forced upon me. The only difference is, now that I'm 18 and licenced, I go out and stay up late, so it's not such a lonely existance.
Is this making sense?
So anyways now I have guilt/responsible/strength issues to work on. I mean I should have some will power right? Ummm no. Totally gone. And thats scary because that kind of strength or freedom (if you will) has always been almost a goal... you know to be independent from every influence but myself. Unfortunatly I am the opposite of that (and hence my quest) but now I'm slipping and I can't stop.
And this IS a very. important. year.
This doesnt make sense does it? It's just a rambling rant. OH! Perfect example. Today I was going to go to bed early (i.e actually ON wednesday see?) but it's already almost one o'clock! I can't stop! It's a strange addiction. AND I've been telling myself this EVERY NIGHT.
Now it's thrusday and i've wasted my precious break.
And THAT scares me because another issue (besides wanting of will power) is that I'm paranoid I'm wasting my life or am going to. I realize I'm young. I realize in the grand scheme of things 18 is not that old. But it is possible to waste eighteen years of your life. Eighteen is the end of childhood, the middle-age of youth, supposidly the best fucking time of our lives, and I'm wasting it. Well that's my opinion anyways...
Ok I had so much more rant left in me but i got distracted by ICQ and Aint It Cool News (BUFFY SPOILERS hurrah!) so I kind of lost my pace and train of thought. Oh well... long enough entry anyways. I hope pitas isnt being an ass and will let me post!
PS I didnt... i have to retry a bit.
Friday, December 28, 2001
11:26 p.m.
From Thrusday Dec. 27 2001
1: Dan, my backseat partner (woo!), is happy to see me.
2:Damn! Our plans are foiled because...
3: Jessica is shocked and appaulled!
4:Don't cry Dan!
5:Jess and Dan brainstorm for ideas while I take pictures. It's decided that we wait for Hollie and Jane to arrive so we can think of a new plan/yell at them for their ignorance of coffehouse hours.
6:Addy, who is in the front seat and works at Shopper Drug Mart, cheers us up by showing us battery lip-chap (what?!)
7:Finally Jane and Hollie pull in! Nice ass Jess...
8:While Hollie and Jess discuss plans, Jane comes over and makes a silly face. Ahh silly Jane.
9:Jane also gives Dan the Ten Commandments she stole from the school's 'Biblical Garden'. She's going straight to hell...
10:New plan! Find a new coffee shop (Tim Hortons) which is open 24 hrs (non-holiday hours)! Yeah!
11:Hmm, What will Dan order?
12:I've already choosen my donut (the strawberry one).
13:Addy tells us the strange, perverse things he got in his stocking this year (a flavoured what?!)
14:Hollie (in motion) doesn't like getting her picture taken.
15:Jess is initiated into And then we drive home (at warp speed).