Happy New Year!

Wow, I don't know why I keep putting off blogging for so long, cause things just keep piling up for me to write about, and I end up with these silly catch-up monster blogs. Well, here's another.

First, some general greetings. Happy New Year all those that apply, I wish you a healthy and productive 5756! (Let's party like it's 5699) (That was very lame)
And Happy Birthday Aunt Mer! Hope England's treating you right.
And one bit of housekeeping. My last blog, focussed on placating my mother, seems to have come out much more squicky than I intended it to. She read it and said 'it brought a tear to my eye'...I had to control the impluse to rush to the computer and delete said blog immediately. If you know me, you know how much I detest being wiggly. I wasn't being wiggly. There was no intended gooiness, I was stating facts. Learn it well, people, there ain't no jello here!

And now, on with the show.
For a girl who's unemployed, I'm deceptively busy. Sunday Mom and the brother and I went for a hike. A really, really long hike. It probably wouldn't have been so much except that no member of my family should be relied upon to:
1)know a direction...ever
2)be able to find a path
3)be willing to follow rules of most kinds.
The result? We spent two hours tromping through cross-country, totally uncharted territory (that led to someone's backyard, given, but I prefer to imagine us as true explorers). Apparently, I'm still the adventurous one in my family (who'da thunk it?). The brother and I scrambled up some rocks, and the entire time he muttered repeatedly in my ear 'Is this a good idea? This is not a good idea.' And when we went off-trail, Mom kept insisting we go back to find the path! Bah!
Anyways, it was gorgeous, even though it was too warm for fall (I love fall, and Mom's going to kick my ass for insisting, again, that it's time for the warm weather to vamoose.) (Yeah, that's right, I said 'vamoose', you wanna make something of it?)

Monday was dinner at my great aunt's house, which was very tasty. It's always good to see family, and I got to talk shop with my uncle (technically cousin) who teaches me all sorts of stuff about arts and craft. I've been carving this block of soapstone he gave me, and he promised to score me some super-fine drill bits so I can make what I'm carving suitable for my beadwork. I can't believe I'm actually reaching a point where having a room in my future house be a 'studio' would amount to more than just an empty desk with a selection of never-used pencils. I'm psyched about those drill bits!
(I KNOW I'm a geek, stop telling me old information.)

And then there's work, where we're training our new manager (yeah, that's right. I'm training my boss. What kind of messed-up system is that?) She's not bad, but there are always a few bugs to work out. I only worked a couple of shifts this week, but sales are good again, and I'm left with more time for job hunting, which goes on...and on...

And I think my social life is making up for lost time, or something. I go to Lauren's tomorrow, it's the holiday over the weekend (enjoy that turkey, folks), Monday I'm meeting an old Mac friend for a movie, tuesday and wednesday I work, thursday I was invited to lunch but that's Yom Kippur, so I'd suck as a luch date (no it's not a 'date'), which makes a week from tomorrow my first available day. Not to mention that a friend from pub. class has been trying to arrange a night for us to get together for dinner for, like, three weeks (which is reaching a state of rediculousness, this oughtn't be so hard). This is very odd for me.

Oh! And Mom and Aunt Laura (who's another not-my-aunt-Aunt, but who is also not a cousin) and I went out for Japanese and I totally ate sushi! It had no fish in it, but it was...well, not 'great', but edible, and certainly not bad. I figure if someone I need to impress wants to take me out for sushi ever, it's just easiest for me to become temporarily vegan. Chickens grow on trees, right?

Oh, and Mom and I ate Swiss Chard tonight. Kale was better.

And now it's late and I can't think of anything else, so I'll say goodnight folks.
Goodnight, floks.

Teasing my mother

Okay, so I don't get how or why people buy jewelry. Last week, the store loved me. I swear, I was so on, I could have sold a thumb ring to a duck. This week (and I haven't changed anything about my selling style), I can't give this stuff away if it were sugar-coated. It's as if, last week, the collective unconsciousness was in a spending mood, and this week, the world is being frugal. I guess I'm just baffled by the trends.
Our manager, Melissa, was sick all last week, so I all but took over the store, working every day. It wasn't too hard to do, which I'm hoping lends credence to my idea of owning a bookstore someday. I could totally do that.

Nothing new to report on the job hunt. I didn't get much done last week cause I was stuck in the mall so much, but yesterday was good, productive, and I have a plan for today too. It's just hard to do, draining, and it's times like this when socialist communism starts to sounds appealing.

My socail life is starting to have a little 'life' again, though. Last weekend I got together with Laur, Kev, Mark, and Kristen. Kristen is Lauren's sister, and it was the first time I'd seen her and Mark together. He seemed really happy. Kev was sick but it was good to see him too- it sucks that we're all so spread out. It's been much too long since Laurie and I have spent any decent time together, and I think my wit and personality are suffering from the lack.
The five of us went to Playdium, which is a big dark room filled with video games (the kind you put quarters in, except they use cards). I suck at driving games, but I'm pretty good at shooting things. No real surprise!
This weekend I went with Laur and Kev to see Kev's place in Shelburne for the first time. Shelburne is...quiet. It was relaxing, but I get why Kevin spends so much time gaming. (Sorry, Laur.)
Also, Laur and I have been invited to dinner with David (a friend of mine from publishing class) and his girlfriend- it'll be fun if we can ever find a day when we're all free! I'm looking forward to it despite avoiding David's email because of the very very overdue article I still owe him for his website. I'm still working on it, I swear!
And I've (strangely) been invited to the Mac Humanities formal, which is on a boat in Toronto this year. It's probably too much money right now, plus there's my lack of a good accessory for my arm (which usually doesn't bother me, but it would help with my excuse for being there). Not to mention the fact that I no longer have a vaid connection to either McMaster or Humanities, and I'm left with very few good reasons to go. It would be nice to see Shesh and Lunchbox and Kat and all the rest again, though. But I really don't want to be one of those much-older-than-everybody losers who still hang around despite having graduated years before a la Dazed and Confused.

Then there's Rosh Hashonna next week, where it'll be good to see family, and I can wear my new skirt that hasn't gotten much play since I bought it. And I'll bake- I've got the best recipe for apple bread- I'll blog it later. I'd bake today (it's a good day for it) except Mom made chocolate banana bread the other day, and I have to wait until that's gone. (Which I kind of hope is soon.) (Sorry, Mom.)

I shouldn't have said that. I recently got reamed out by her for...well, I think the gist of her opinion is that I selectively blog things about her that, when read together, make her seem foolish. Which I totally take issue with. It was she who didn't want me to write about her life, so I keep my comments about my mother light, and it's not my fault that she's really funny sometimes. I don't blog untruths. And I don't really get how being over dramatic about kale vilifies my mother.
But, in an effort at peace offering, here;
My mother is clever. She's taught me more than any other person, ever. She's much cooler than a lot of other moms out there, probably most. She's one of my best friends, as well as being my Mom. I wish to hell I could have known her in the sixties and seventies, the wildchild. She's got more balls than most, and even though she's hilarious sometimes, she's never really foolish, and almost never foppish. (Mom, if you wanted to never have been foppish, than the rendition of 'We are family' should never have been 'jived' in the car. No, you will never live that down.)
But no matter what, she's still funny. Okay, so she doesn't even get some of her own hilarity (re: the coversation in Chapters), Oops, I didn't tell you about that, here it is:

I found her in the cookbook section, flipping through vegetarian recipies, looking for a mushroom stew recipe she 'remembered reading once'. No, she didn't know which book it was in. No, searching on the internet would not be easier, quicker, and more smart, stop teasing your mother.
Mom: (reading out recipe titles) "Autumn vegetable stew, served in a pumpkin"
B: (dubious) In a pumpkin?
Mom: Yeah, vegetarians do that. They like to serve things in other things, cause they think that makes them taste better.

I lost it at that. She doesn't get what was funny.

Oh, and I would like to make it clear that neither my mother nor I are in any way against vegetarians, or against 'putting stuff in other stuff'. Really. I had an uncle who was a vegetarian, for a while. Long story.

Anyways, I guess all I really wanted to cover here was that, she's not just a clown running around in my life, if that is the way that she has been (inadvertantly) portrayed in my writings. She's cool. Really.

Maybe now she won't be afraid to share the address with Jerry. ;)

Help meeeeeeee!

The horror. The horror.
Mom went shopping...for dinner...and brought back...kale.
*shudder*
And that's not the end of it.
She's threatened...she's promised...after this, we're moving on to Swiss chard.
She's evil, man. Pure evil.

Meet Burning House

Look, I got pictures! And I'd like to introduce you to my group from the final project of my Humber class: Tracey, Fiona, Morgen, Allen, Chris and I.

A boring week

Well, I've been out of school just over a week, and things are still going okay. My resume has been overhauled (or more accurately, demolished and re-built from scratch, stronger and better- I have the technology), I've actually applied for something (kind of a feat for me. For some reason, I always hit a speedbump at this point), and even though I have neither interview or job on the horizon yet, I HAVE spent money I shouldn't be spending on outfits for them! Yeah, this past week has been a bit of a shopping spree (two skirts- and I barely ever wear skirts- some kick-ass shoes, a suit jacket, a poncho-ey thing that I had to fight my mom for, a new purse...this list goes on).
Friday was a party at Laur's new place- to warm it up- which was a fair success. I love Laurie's friends, they're hilarious, and I wish I could have stayed longer, but circumstances conspired against me. On the other hand, my driving record is getter better in leaps and bounds (I had the car that night, and my newest vendetta is a war against my mother's opinion on my driving skills. She thinks I suck, which I do not. My record is CLEAN, baby.) So yeah, I left the party early, but then I went driving downtown Toronto on a friday night, and took the HIGHWAY home. Who can't drive now, hun?
Other than that, life is boring. My room is clean, my sales at the jewelry store rock, and I have to make a foray soon back to the Ham, cause my bead supply has holes in it. (Heh, heh, I just realized what a very, very lame joke that was).
There wasn't much to say in here, but I'm making an effort to blog more. I hope your lives are more interresting, but only in the good way.

Goodbye Humber, how I will miss thee...

Wow, so it's been, like, half a month since I last blogged and there's a lot to catch up on. I know that I haven't been the most reliable updater this summer, but that should soon change, seeing as how today is my second-last day of school. This news is kind of mixed good and bad, since I'll be blogging more thanks to free time (yay), but have free time thanks to no job waiting for me (boo). I shouldn't say that- there is a job waiting for me...I just have to find it. The prospect of doing so, however, is...terrifying is the word.
I keep waffling between this surreal sense of over confidence ("I just finished the best course out there, I have so many contacts, I did so well, blah blah my greatness blah...") and nail-biting paralysis fear ("Oh god it's so hard to find something and my resume isn't done and I suck at interviews and why would they ever even consider me for this they won't even look at me they'll see my cover letter and probably laugh, I suck suck suck...")
Thankfully these seem to balance each other out, so far, so I have not yet talked myself into a pile o' goo. The goo does loom, however. It's a thin line I walk.
I'm also aware that I'm one of about twenty people in my class feeling this way. Wow, how we all fit in one room together, I don't know.
But that's what's happening now, and you all have about a month in the Life of Bethany to catch up on. Ready? Go.

The final month of my program was us creating our own (fake) companies. By the end of the month, we were exhausted, the companies were way more real in our minds than we ever anticipated them becoming, and we were proud. My group, whom I love with all my heart, named our company Burning House, and we publish non fiction, socially relevant, controversial titles (both illustrated and not).
The final presentation, which included a panel of very distinguished judges bent on chossing a winner, picked...us! I'm still in shock.

Following that, there was about a year and a day of sleeping, one helluva party (monday), lots of picture-taking and even a cake with a story.
(You want the cake story? Fine. There was a long, drawn-out discussion over things to have written upon our cake. We didn't want it to say 'goodbye', and felt that 'good luck' was just as bad. 'Revolutionize the Industry' was suggested, but I think there was resistance about taking orders from baked goods, plus, we'd need a bigger cake for that. In the end, no decision had been made, as the only thing we could agree on was that we'd all be happy to eat it. With that in mind, my classmates got to the store and asked to have the cake read 'Yeah, cake!' Simple enough, right? Apparently, no. The lady writing down their order wrote 'Yay cake', and in a room full of now-editors, this was not good. But hey, it's only icing, right? When they picked up said cake, and opened the box, we ended up with a blue cake that said 'Yay'. Not even an exclamation point. It was the sardonic, final-day-of-publishing class, blue cake. It was tasty.)

...And that was the end of my class (yeah, I took two days to write this post). I got home, changed, and went to help Lauren move (goodbye ghetto, hello...well, I think it feels English there, mostly because of the roundabout att he end of her street, but I think Laur thinks I'm nuts). Then we drove for ever and ever looking for food. We found it, in the end, but it was a near miss.

Anyways, I have to go now- work to be done. Oh wait...no there isn't. But my room's a friggin mess.

My brain hurts

Hello all,
I'm at school right now, and ought to be working, though I'm finding that it's basically a useless attempt right now. Ironic, since the project I'm working on is titled "Useless Design", heh heh.
This month is completely devoted to one big project, where we divide into groups, create a company, a list of books, and all the financials, and then pitch it all to a panel at the end of the month.
I love my group. I really like our books. I'm having fun. But I'm also so freaking tired. Being creative all day is like cross-country skiing or something.
But now I gotta go- there's a grindstone waiting for my nose.

The Best Bad Movies

Sometimes it’s the worst flicks that seem to speak to you. Not in those powerful, undeniable messages that you get from the very good films, not in the too-loud voices you get from the too-good films, and certainly not in the screeches that blast most commonly out of cinema doors. No, sometimes it’s the ones that are just bad- the teen flick that uses shampoo as a metaphor, the chick flick that was written entirely in clichés- that seem to get you. You can’t understand why you like them. Why is it that you seem to find it okay to watch them over and over again? You know that they aren’t good. You know that they are badly written, filled with heavy-handed symbolism, and that parts are so abashedly cheesy they make you cringe. But you always go back for more. The next day when it’s a rerun. The next month, when you spy it at the video store. The next year, when your best friend asks ‘what do you want to do tonight?’, and you know that, once again, it’s time. There must be something valid in them. Buried under the scrap, there must be something worthwile that pulls you back. The idea. The image. The concept. I like to think that, whatever it is, it's there, and instead of it being the driving force it was supposed to be, the message is hidden. It's been buried, often under a lot of crap, but it's there, and you go back to it over again. There are reasons to love those bad movies. It makes them valid. It makes us valid for watching them.
Do you know what I’m talking about, or am I totally out in left field? I’ll admit, I’m writing this in the afterglow of one such great bad movie.
Do you have one (or a few?) What are they?

Pottermania

I love Pottermania.
In the US, more than 6.9 million copies were sold in the first 24 hours of the book's release. In Canada, somewhere in the vicinity of 700,000. At one release party in Britain, over 800 copies were sold in about 40 minutes- that's 20 copies a minute, and three copies every second.
And who's reading? Click the link!

Running to catch up

First, no- I haven't died. I'm just very, very busy.
I know what you're thinking, and no, I wasn't forgetting about, or not intending to blog about my family reunion. I just got a little out of order, that's all.

First of all, the big news this year belonged to my cousin. A huge kudos to him for having the guts to walk into a room full of family and say “you all remember my wife, don't you?” (It should be pointed out that he got himself hitched about three weeks prior to then, under a veritable veil of secrecy.) I could NEVER have done that, but it was obviously what they both wanted, and they're both really happy with the way they did things, and so, props and congratulations to them for doing what made them happy. More people should do the same!
The rest of the weekend was pleasant and restful- there was shopping for art glass for one aunt, talking books with another. Mom even managed to stop being so manic…a little…near the end…(no, really, she had a good time). And there was plenty of food!

Honestly, though, my aunt looking for art glass ought to have stayed an extra week- the following weekend, I spent all of Sunday with Laur, walking around downtown Toronto (so much sun- such a good tan!) and there were two street festivals, one of which was an amazing art exhibition. They had great glass!
We went out for lunch at a fantastic place called 'Everest', on Queen street, that had food from all around Mount Everest. They had a clever 'Free Tibet' platter- Tibetan dumplings surrounded by Chinese Chow Mein. It was witty but I didn't order it, so I don't know if it's tasty- we'll have to go back.
Then we went bead shopping, had dinner, and went to see Batman Begins, which was not a total waste of time, but would have been if I hadn't been a comic book kid once-upon-a-time. At least it was dark and air conditioned. It was a good day!

That week following (wow, this is like, a month I'm catching you guys up on- sorry!), my class had a surprise guest speaker, and it was His Excellency Sir John Ralston Saul! (Famous Canadian, five-time author of international acclaim, political commenter and modern-day philosopher, and husband to Canada's Governor General.) He came to talk with us, which was pretty cool- he had a guard and everything- and then (after getting into a fight with one of my classmates in the washroom), called Cynthia (head of my program) to tell her that he was very impressed with us (and there might be a job with him for one of us)! I'm stoked. I just have to do some reading, and brush up on my French…

La visite de Moniseur Saul etait une evenement que je n'oublierais pas beintot. Il faut que je donne mes mercies a Cynthia pour cette cadeau!

Wow, yeah, my French sucks.

And then one of my classmates got hit by a bus. Okay, so I'm being dramatic. Morgen had bike accident that landed her in the hospital, but she's okay now (she actually typing beside me). I went to see her in the hospital. I'm glad she's better.

Work is the same as always. I got a bad evaluation that said I wasn't selling enough, and then, two days later, I made the top five sellers list in the GTA. It was satisfying at the time, but I'm getting sick of both the mall and the corporate stuff that goes with this job. Good thing I interviewed at a bookstore last week. It might be awhile before I start, but I can wait if I have that to look forward to!

Friday rocked. Mark and Kev came up for a visit (we've barely seen them all summer!), and we went to a K-Os concert (think folk rap, with morals. Good guy.), which was a great show! Immediately after which my friends dropped me at a bookstore, where I was in time to get in line for the midnight release of HARRY POTTER! I am overjoyed at the arrival of this book. I have read it twice, but have yet to finish formulating my opinion. As I told Laur last night, I'm still in 'process' mode. It was very…there was just so MUCH!
Mom wrestled it away from me his morning, but I'm getting it back (and reading it again) once she's done. Thankfully, soon I'll have more people to discuss it with.

And the blog just keeps going!

Last night I got a book in the mail from my aunt. Thank you aunt! (Yeah, I'm gonna write a better thanks soon, and a whole lot more privately than this). Its such a pretty book! I need some more time to look it over before I bring it to class and let these guys paw all over it (ha ha) though…working so much this week!

Also went to a friends' gig this week. Chris, a classmate of mine, is in a band called the Salingers, and I really like their music. I'm gonna have to go to more of their shows. Maybe I'll be a groupie…

Anyways, we've come to the (disjointed) end. I apologize profusely for my recent not-here-ness. I'll do better. At least we have something to look forward to- I'm (hoping to) go to Cedar Point next weekend. Hooray for roller coasters…

Stolen Survey

TWELVE MOVIES (in no order):
12. Garden State
11. Hackers
10. Billy Elliott
09. Empire of the Sun
08. Harry Potter
07. Romeo & Juliet
06. Run Lola Run
05. Down to You
04. Amelie
03. Empire Records
02. American Beauty
01. The Royal Tenenbaums

ELEVEN GOOD BANDS/ARTISTS:
11. Coldplay
10. Anyone from the Garden State Soundtrack
09. The Clash
08. U2
07. Collective Soul
06. Moby
05. Prodigy (props to the past)
04. Our Lady Peace
03. Dido
02. T-Rex
01. Iron & Wine

TEN THINGS ABOUT YOU:
10. I have a dark sense of humour, and think a lot of disturbing stuff is funny.
09. I love just about all pets, but want a cat.
08. I consider changing my name on a regular basis.
07. I want to live in England.
06. My favourite colour is green.
05. I love my bad choices.
04. I love noticing things that others don't.
03. I can spend an entire day in bed with a book, not moving.
02. It bugs me if the volume on the tv (or similar thing) does not end in 5 or 0.
01. I'm odd, and I like it.

NINE BOOKS:
09. Harry Potter- JK Rowling
08. Motherless Brooklyn- Jonathan Lethem
07. The Time Traveler's Wife- Audrey Niffenegger
06. Jabberwocky- Lewis Carroll
05. Dragon's Blood- Patricia Briggs
04. The Gashleycrumb Tinies- Edward Gorey
03. A Complicated Kindness- Miriam Towes
02. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy- Douglas Adams
01. Good Omens- Terry pratchett and Neil Gaiman

EIGHT FAVOURITE FOODS/DRINKS:
08. Thai food
07. Apples
06. Mom's brisket
05. Mocha mocha frappaccinos from William's
04. Baguettes
03. Juice boxes
02. Balsamic dressing
01. Chocolate

SEVEN THINGS YOU WEAR DAILY:
07. Several rings
06. Bra
05. Deodorant
04. Underwear
03. Four earrings
02. Shirt
01. Cucumber Melon body lotion

SIX THINGS THAT YOU HATE:
06. Closed-mindedness
05. Sticking my foot in my mouth (and I do it often)
04. Drivers who don't make way for emergency vehicles
03. Judgement
02. Condensation on cold drinks
01. Intolerance

FIVE THINGS YOU DO DAILY:
05. Brush my hair
04. Read
03. Wash
02. Go on the internet
01. Feel guilty or worried about something

FOUR SHOWS YOU WATCH:
04. Gilmour Girls
03. CSI
02. Scrubs- at Laur and Hugh's
01. Six Feet Under

THREE PLACES YOU'VE LIVED:
03. Sarnia
02. Hamilton
01. Toronto - dear god, I need to improve that list before I die.

TWO THINGS YOU WANT:
02. Enough money to live a reasonable life (I'm willing to work for that- I'm not looking for it to fall from the sky)
01. More time

Summer storm strike

Today is one of those days when the air is thick with moisture, and the world is so humid it seems like the sky is pressing down on you. The sun is strong but looks watery, and also seems to be doing it’s best to lay itself directly on your shoulders.
When the afternoon is getting tired, the sky, in that strange way it has in summer, gets bluer and greyer by degrees, storm clouds gathering disguised as clear air, so the sky itself seems to be thickening.
Then comes that stretched-out moment, when the world gets still, when the wind dies down and even the plants seem to hold them selves stiff and ready, until the tension breaks, and the first, fat drops hurtle down.
Traveling along, the air gets thick with that smell particular to mid-summer; that sharp, hot smell of overheated asphalt sizzling in the rain. Then the rain pounds down into soft skin still warm from summer sun, instantly passing through layers of cloth, and clothes get heavy and clingy and seem so much a bother.
Ears ring from almost constant thunder, and laughter bubbles up in response, growling playfully back at the sky, trying to out-do each other.
Standing on the balcony above, looking down, goosebumps from unseen breaths of air ghosting across wet skin. There is so much rain beating the world that the air itself is dark with it, the treetops whipping through the wind like seaweed through rough waters.
Lightning strike, sudden and violent, breaks through the wind and rain and thick air of summer, hisses with power, heat and burning light like screaming, like rage, like prayer, pulses down, a fist pounding the earth, and the tree across the way shudders in its own weakness and succumbs, splitting jarringly, falls as though floating, struck and spent, to earth.

A long day

Hi all.
My class is spending the whole day in computers, so this might just turn itself into a monster blog.
Class is good, great, very challenging, and backbreaking in turns. This past month has been just as intense as the last one, and the upcoming week is going to be very busy. I think a lot of stress, frustration, and lack of sleep kind of came to a head yesterday. Basically, as much as we've been learning, and as great as it has been, a lot of us are still worrying about marks and working really hard on our assignments (a little too hard, we've been told, but it's hard to break the habit), and trying to juggle our time and our nerves is...hard. Yesterday a lot of people were feeling very frustrated and stressed, and I guess we kind of lost it a little.
Cynthia came in and we were talking about assignments and tests and things, and there was a lot of discussion about what we as the students need and what the teachers are doing and saying. Cynthia is really good at calming people down, and she's fantastic at explaining things, which I think helps a lot. The talk yesterday helped, but I think we maybe need more of those talks. I might suggest it to Cynthia, for the next class.
Part of what's taking up our time these days is extra stuff outside of class. Tonight is a wine and cheese for the Children's Writer's Class that we're invited to, and I want to go, but there is SO MUCH WORK to get home to (besides, I promised Mom I'd be home for dinner- she's making fish).
But you get the gist, with the busy and the crazy making.
There is one thing taking up my time this weekend that I'm so happy for, though. In I'm Telling You for the Last Time Jerry Seinfeld talks about hearing of Hallowe'en when he was a child;

"What? Someone's giving out candy, who is giving out candy?...EVERYONE WE KNOW is giving out candy?! Wah-I- I have got to be a part of this, I'll do anything they want- ...I can wear that!"

Now. Replace the word "candy" with "books", and you've got my EXACT attitude about the Canadian Book Expo, this sunday, to which I am most definitely going! (No, I don't have to dress up in costume, but if they wanted my left arm in payment, they could have it. (I need the right one- it's the one that writes and turns the pages).
I'm sure I'll have gushes to say about it after sunday.

Okay, and here's a little thing that will make you go "What?! Why in hell is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"
So, what happened? Well, I was at work last week, and there was about a half hour left until closing, and Melissa and I were getting antsy to go home, despite our low sales. So, when we got a 'high roller' in, who wanted to spend a pile, we were kind of stoked that our sales would go up. But these two guys came in, and they were all not-nice (to say the least), and they we're getting a very large pile together. The one guy kept wanting suggestions from me, saying "What do girls like, what do you like?" Everything I handed him just went in the pile- he didn't care what he was buying.
That was when Melissa and I started to get nervous. Those guys weren't acting right.
As soon as they were done, Melissa rang everything up, and it took her forever- they had over $1500 of stuff. When she told them their total, the guy pulled out a bunch of very obviously fake cards. She hesitated to take them, and the guy started muttering threats, so only we could hear. We were afraid, and there was no way to call security (there's no place hidden from view where I work, and no emergency button like there should be), so she ran the cards through. They were all accepted. Just before the guys took off, the one grabbed a handful of stuff from the bag and set it back on the desk, and said "Here, these are yours." so, what, we were getting paid off? Fat freaking chance! We locked the stuff in a drawer, closed ten minutes early, and ran home!
The next morning we'd calmed down and called head office and the police. Everyone said it wasn't our fault, and our jobs are safe and there's nothing for us to worry about. We still feel bad about it, but what can you do?
The only question is, what happens to the stuff they left behind? We're waiting for a decision from head office. I should find out saturday- I'll keep you all updated.
Meanwhile, I'm not as upset as I was. When it happened, I was like, "I don't like the big city anymore! I'm moving back to Sarnia!" Now...well, trust me, Sarnia is no an option. But I hate working in a freaking MALL! I'm fully looking forward to burying myself in the nice, safe world of publishing.

Oh! And I've recently confirmed that there is no more training or certification needed for publishing in other countries. When I finish this course I can get a job in Canada...or Britain, the States, Australia...ANYWHERE! Bah ha ha! World, you are my playground.

Yeah, this blog was a little random.

One thing I love

So, Laur's at my place and we're putting a frozen pizza in the oven, then going to turn on a movie. Mom's oven has no timer. Worried that we'll burn the place down, or at least be eating char for dinner, Laur asks how we'll remember that something's in the oven.
"I'll get Phil to let us know," I say, distracted with the putting of the pizza on the hot rack.
Laur is slient for a moment, then,
"How will a plant let us know when our pizza is ready?"


...


So, what do I love?
I love that my best friend not only knows that I have names for both my plant and the microwave, but that she knows which one is which.

Revel in Gore

"The world is full of beautiful stories...you're not going to hear any of those tonight."
So began the fabulously disgusting reading I went to last night, featuring CHUCK PALAHNIUK! I can't believe that fate had him in Toronto and doing that same reading about which I've been reading just a few days after I discovered it. Destiny looks after me again! (And, I love living in the big city.)
Let me start by saying that no one fainted. Apparently, Torontonians are a tough bunch. But residents of Calgary aren't- his publicist told the crowd during his intro that they'd lost no less than five people at the last reading. I'm vaguely disappointed that no one went down, especially since the author was obviously doing his best.
Let me explain; the reading occurred in Indigo, which is a big place, but could barely contain the four hundred (at least) people who crowded in. It was hot and cramped and there weren't any seats unless you got there two hours in advance.
He handed out air fresheners. He handed out three hundred meat-scented, steak-shaped air 'fresheners' that he insisted we open and swing around. Eew. REALLY.
He was a fantastic speaker who was extremely talented at taking hilarious, disgusting, sad and sadistic stories and never allowing his audience to see them as abstract in any way; he was very good at keeping a human face on his characters. He spoke (even before he started reading) about the sick things people did, and told him about. He spoke about a guy finding out he had HIV, a guy who took pictures of dead people, and teenagers who commit suicide by accident.
Then he started reading. He told "Guts". This is the story about which the article I linked was about, the story, apparently, that he had 'retired' in view of the reactions he was getting. I was thrilled when he announced it.
The story was just as gross as the rest of his talk. It was great.
The crowd was good, too. It was a very young, kind of anti-establishment type crowd- very rock.
He took questions after, though he'd already made a point of talking about the rediculous comments and questions he usually got. For instance, those people (in the States), who ask him "Do you want to come to our fight club?" To which he sarcastically responds; "Yeah, like what I really want is to do this, and then go get punched."
He got some great questions, but was also a clever enough speaker that he made what would normally be mundane answers into interresting responses. For instance, the question "What do you aim to do with your writing?" to which he answered, "I aim to amuse myself. [These readings are] like sex; I want you to be there and be quiet until I'm done."
He was funny, and he gave out prizes (other than the air fresheners). He had us rolling when he spoke about being scheduled for readings following Erin Rolston, who wrote his true story about being caught in a rockslide and having to amputate his own arm with a swiss army knife. This was funny because the prizes Chuck had were rubber severed arms, which the bookstore workers kept unpacking beforehand, and thinking it was all a very distasteful joke. LOL!
All in all- man, was that a good night! He was a great speaker, and I'm glad I went. And, since I'm sure you're wondering, no, I did not even get woozy. In fact, I think I was one of the few who were laughing at the parts that few others were finding funny. What can I say? My mind has sick depths which boggle even me...
I'll leave you with a last memorable comment by the author;

"How we digest our lives is by making stories out of them, and retelling until we wear them out. We write to control our stories, and not be controlled by them."

Stuttery whales in design class

Okay, so I'm in design class and trying not to sound like a kindergarten student; "Scott, the tail of my whale is all messed up...again..."
We're trying to make a book cover (a duplicate of the teacher's), for practice. We're supposed to be learning graphic design, but I (and I'm not alone here), kind of, well, suck at it.
It helps that what we're doing actually takes, like, years of study, but that only helps us feel better, not do any better. My whale keeps going all stuttery.
At least he still has fins, though, unlike those of some of my classmates.
We're an odd pod.
And on that jabberwockian note, I'm going to sign off...I don't think I'm terribly interresting today.

I've gotta read this!

I know I just blogged, but then I surfed, and check out what I came across.
Damn.
(Click the title for the link).

Call this a recap

So busy. *Sigh*
Okay, a quick recap (and I do mean quick) of the past weeks:

I saw a deer. In Toronto. And I wasn’t hallucinating, either- Eggroll saw it too.

I spent a great couple of days crashing at Laur’s and Hugh’s place. Fun, not long enough, and I (regretfully) had to flake on the last day, so many apologies to them, though honestly I had started to feel like I was neglecting the Mom by then, so it was with mixed feelings that I dragged my ass home. Especially since she was making me do work(!)

Class rocks. Finance is the bane of my existence, but I live for fieldtrips. We’ve been to House of Anansi, (small, independent, very metro-funky-chic), Random House (the hugest, very cool, money and power, baby!), and today, Goodman and Goodman law offices (literary and entertainment agents- very who’s-who, totally connected, impressive). The information is fascinating and plentiful, as are the perks! We keep getting food, stuff, BOOKS even, plus the use of these very corporate-cool boardrooms all day- I feel so professional in them. Random House and G&G were actually pretty similar, in looks, anyways, but some of my classmates said that that was where they felt the ‘belonged’, and I didn’t agree. Random House was just as corporate and professional and posh, but there was a different air about the place. No matter how corporate it was, they were still a bunch of book geeks like me. The lawyers weren’t. Passionate, given, which was great to encounter (the head guy we were talking with told us all about ‘nurturing’ his author clients), but it wasn’t just books for him (he handles others, like Kim Cattrall, which spins him once again into the realm of super coolness, but I digress).

Work is fine. I was down about it for a week or two there, but I think things are improving. They just hired a new girl who seems really nice, and having someone to depend on (or, more accurately, take advantage of), and give me a little slack will be awfully nice. I’m looking forward to having at least one day that I can CHOOSE what to do with, even if that does turn out to be things like homework and cleaning the house. At this point, so little that is needing to is actually getting done, that I’m actually relishing the idea of even getting to do that much.

I went to the doc this week- first time I’ve met her, and she’s nice, and now I’m getting an Epi pen (as in epinephrine, so’s as I don’t do that dying thing if I get stung by das bees). I’m glad to finally be getting one, not that I’m going to let down my guard or anything (hey, a 16/17 year record is not one I’m looking to break!), but seeing as there’s an apple orchard in the middle of my school campus, I thought it would be adviseable to have the escape route just in case. Clever me.

The family reunion is coming up. Totally looking forward to it, dying to see everyone and to talk to people…we do this a lot less often than we ought to. Mom has given me a deadline for getting my room together in anticipation of being invaded by Atos’s, and then there’s the not-so-subtle hint she gave me the other day; “We can start baking any day now, you know.” Maybe I’ll make some extras and take them to class- make me some friends.

Arrgh, what else?
I bought the new Coldplay CD today (X&Y). It’s friggin FANTASTIC. Seriously, people, go buy.

As for books, there’s nothing new up my sleeve; I’m back on my favourite drug- Harry Potter. In anticipation for the next big release (37 days, 4 hours, 31 minutes, 11 seconds as I write this), I have begun again. Going slowly- I’d like to say because I’m relishing them, but the truth is, I’m just struggling to squeeze in any decent reading time. I still plan to be done the fifth by the night before the new release, though. Determination!
I’m also happy to announce that my publishing class is just a wrapped up in this as I am! (Well, maybe not *quite* as much as I am, but it’s hard to reach my heights). (Yeah, even I ROFL at that one.)

In any case, there’s a dirty kitchen, a pile of homework, and a brand-spankin-new CD waiting for me- I’m out, folks. Talk to you all, sooner or later, though I have design class…tomorrow?.. maybe friday…one of those…blog then.

Design class again

Okay, so it's very pathetic that the only time I can find to blog is during breaks in my design class, which is sadly only once a week (I enjoy it so), but I'm tired of saying I'll blog more, blah blah blah.
So I won't.
Friday was awesome. Lauren was back in town, along with Kevin and Mark, and we all got together and went out for Indian food and watched movies and basically got as relaxed as possible. Much needed vegging occurred.
Saturday I worked, then sprang my frinds on my Mom (oops), and everyone crashed despite the best of intentions to watch all three Starwars movies.
Sunday, work again, then Michael, Mom, the brother and I went to Buffalo for shopping. That was fun, though I am ashamed to admit that I was actually out-shopped by my brother. He did VERY well indeed.
I did okay. There's always room for more shopping.
Speaking of which, my fingers are itching for the new Coldplay CD. Anyone heard it? It's the first thing other than a book that I've really wanted sinse I started this class.
Oh, and about books. Read 'The Time Traveler's Wife' By A-something Niffenegger (I think that's the name). VERY GOOD READ. (Mostly for the ladies, though).
Anyways, I've slipped, once again, into rambling mode, so despite the lack of usual or consistent updates, I'm logging off, folks. Hopefully I'll have earth-shatteringly interresting news later, though honestly there ain't much on the horizon.
Except the family reunion, over a month away, which I am eagerly awaiting. And the fact that Mom has threatened to evict me if my room isn't clean and unpacked in two weeks.
Hello homelessness! My new address: cardboard box, crap-filled alleyway, Toronto Ontario.

Thank Goodness for Hassles and Screwups

Okay, so the other day I'm at school, and I have no money on me, and the ATM is broken. No big deal. I try to call Mom at lunch, on the pay phone, to make plans for after school. I use my credit card, I dial her office, no answer, I hang up before the answering machine answers. I call her cell, same thing. I cease and desist trying to get in touch with my elusive mother, go to the college bookstore and buy a couple of books for class. Then I go to class. During break, I attempt one last time to contact Mom. My card gets turned down by the phone. WTF? I'm miles from my limit, it worked an hour ago, and it's the same phone. What's the deal? I get pissed, go home at the end of the day and call the bank.
They froze my card. They thought it was stolen. (The books I bought weren't THAT expensive!)
They have me confirm my recent charges.
Books? Yes.
Phone calls? Yes.
Monthly deposite to an internet service provider [I'm worried it might not be right to put the name down]...wait. No. Nooooooooooo.
They say I've been paying said internet company for many months!
Thank you for informing me.
(Eventually) I get in contact with Internet Service Provider Extrordinaire. Hello, why are you taking my money?
Blah, blah, mistake, blah, blah, confirmed inactivity, blah...refund.
REFUND, BABY!
I'm aware that technically it was already my money, and that it's not free, and it's not really a pleasant surprise, whatever. It still feels like an unexpected windfall. Yay me.
So, I guess the moral of this story is...thank goodness for hassles and screwups.

Found a moment to write

I can't believe I've been reduced to this, but I'm blogging on a campus computer during a break in my design class. I guess a busy girl's gotta do what a busy girl's gotta do, but the fact is that I really am getting fed up with the disconnectedness this schedule is beginning to instill in my day-to-days.
I got an angry email from Shesh this morning for being unreachable girl lately, and I had to cut a phonecall with Hugh short the other night, and have yet to get back to either of them.
Okay, so I'm busy, you get the gist.
On the other hand, I'm learning a lot, (like, supersized learning), and I'm getting everything done (so far, and at the expense of some, very small but vital, amount of sleep).
My classmates and I are getting long well, still trying to remember each others names (I think I'm losing the race on that one, but so far no one seems to be holding that against me), and the teachers and guest speakers who've been coming to see us continue to be really interresting and positive about our future. It's not like University, where, if they spoke about future profession at all, it was always in amorphous might-happen-but-probably-not-for-most-of-you terms. Here, it's always "when you're out in the world doing this...", or "When you get a book that you want to look like this...", or "when you're publishers...", or (from a particularily optimistic speaker), "when you're the head of the company..."
I love it. It's like it's real. A career.
I didn't mean to make that sound so cheesy.

I'm trying my best to keep school from becoming my whole life.
The job is going well (have I mentioned the job?). A jewelry counter in the mall, small but apparently profitable, fun so far, easy going, and they give the a great friggin discount- Mom's doing flips. (So am I).

Oh, I just remembered something I've been waiting to blog about for the longest time, but have been waiting to do- my masterpiece.
I made this little beaded thingie (doll, objet d'art, whatever), and I gave it to Hugh (the first one, anyway). It stared out simple, and kind of just grew. It turned out kind of...impressive. I feel weird writing that, like, prideful or whatever, but people seem to like the thing, that's all I know. We (the fam) went to my aunt's house for passover and I showed it to my uncle, who was pretty jazzed about it. We talked art for a god long time, which was pretty damn cool. My uncle (cousin, technically, or second cousin, whatever) is a woodcarver. He gave me a block of soapstone- I'm going to try and make my own faces for my next spirit dolls. Though I already have two other faces waiting to be worked with. That'll take some time. Right now I'm working on a strand of lime coloured pearls.

Anyways, my time is up here. Blog more if the chance ever presents itself! Love to all!

I guess it's a whole new life...

Toronto is intense.
I moved here exactly a week ago (go me!), and this week has been SOOO long! I would have blogged about it much sooner, but…
Okay, to start at the beginning- the move went well, smooth and not too terribly long, and the only casualty was my keyboard, which was promptly replaced, hence the wordage you’re all now receiving. (P.S; R.I.P. my keyboard, which died untimely of a Vanilla Coke drowning).
Great big thanks to Mom and Michael and most especially to Hugh, couldn’t have done it without you. Now if only I didn’t have to do it ever again…
Spent Saturday recovering energy (not very successfully, blamed mostly on my mother, who seems to think that 9:30am is sleeping in), and trying to sort/unpack boxes. Also not very successfully, as I am right now sitting surrounded by, you guessed it, boxes.
Sunday we went shopping. Desperately needed, and I actually got some nice stuff, stuff I needed (as she keeps reminding me), though I mourn the spending of that much money, which could have bought…so…MANY…books…
And Monday was the beginning of school! (Yeah, great summer vacation for me, right, two days? *Laughter sodden with sarcasm*) (I want to know who decided that sarcasm was a liquid. Now there’s a leap I wouldn’t have made on my own.)
My new program (four months of the Creative Book Publishing Program at Humber College in Toronto, for those of you who can’t keep up here), is well, let’s just say it accounts for a lot of that ‘intense’ comment this entry started with. Eight hours a day (give or take), with an hour lunch, lots of classes, tons of teachers/lecturers and guests, and an amazing amount of information. I have no doubt that this will be hard, but so far I am Really enjoying it; it’s interesting and the people I’m meeting are amazing. My classmates are the most diverse, eclectic group I could never have imagined, and we’re getting to know each other and everyone is friendly and we’re having a lot of fun (or at least, I am). It’s fantastic to get to spend time with a very large group of people…just like me.
A true biblioholist may encounter another, maybe, once every long while, and usually only in the context of a bookstore. The meeting is most often a fleeting one- generally we’re lone nomads of the darkest aisles. But here, oh, here I have found an entire fleet of us, a pack, a… a band of biblioholists. (Forgive me, I’m very tired).
Talking books all day is fucking fantastic.
Sorry.

And that’s where I’m going to end this, even though there is much more to this week that I intend to enter here at some point, I’m afraid it’ll have to be a second part to this entry; I’m beat, and there’s still much to do…

Oh, I strongly suggest you all go listen to the Garden State soundtrack (trust me, and simultaneously forgive me for not telling you this earlier!), and read…something. Always.

Cheesy Goodbyes

The end.
Today I wrote the last of the last of my exams. I have no more. I have no more essays or tests or anything. University is done.
That feels really big, but right now I’m feeling pretty big, too. Like, it’s over, and that’s okay. I can swallow the fact.
Okay, enough of me being up with the cheese-wigginess.
Tonight I went out to dinner with Shesh (girl I worked with at the Pond, who was also in a class of mine- new friend), and a group of her friends. Then we went to a house party. They’re a great bunch of people and I can’t believe this is the only time I get to meet and spend time with them. It’s a downside to leaving- I would have liked to be part of their group. I’m planning on trying to stay in touch with them, through blog and messenger and email and all things electronic, but it won’t be the same.
To Kat, Kait, Farhide, Lisa, Lunchbox, Kelly, Doom, Shesh especially, and all the rest, I’ll miss having class with you, I enjoyed spending what little time I had with you, and I hope you remember my face.

To those, like myself, who are emerging, fresh-faced, into the world post-University, remember that we didn’t learn everything in those classrooms, the graffiti we left on the desks won’t be our only mark left on life, and that it’s normal and most especially okay to be aimless after college.
And apparently, I can’t escape my own cheesiness tonight, so I’m logging off while I still have a shred of dignity left. No more yearbook-esque-isms for me.

A busy week, to say the least

Sorry for the drought in blog updates-exams, you understand.
Laur came over last Sunday and we spent a couple of days relaxing, hanging out, catching up, and starting to pack up my room. I owe her a big thanks for the help.
Finished work at both my jobs this week, too. Leaving is intense, but I’ve known for awhile that it was coming, so it’s not that bad. At the bead store Deb gave me a gift certificate as a bonus and going away gift, which was super sweet of her, and I’ve decided to save it till I can come back there- it’ll be my excuse to visit.
Wrote one exam on Saturday, it went fairly well, and then trudged through the VERY cold rain to meet Mom and Michael, who drove me to Toronto so I’d be able to make it to Passover dinner at Aunt Rose’s. That was a wonderful night, and I had the best time.
Sunday was cutting fruit, a rock and gem show with Mom, and dinner with Michael’s family, which was only terribly awkward at first. No, honestly, it wasn’t that bad.
And then two interviews for jobs in North York on Monday, one of which looks pretty promising. I’ll tell you more if something comes of it.
Came back to Hamilton that night, which was strange- Toronto is really starting to feel more like ‘home’, I think because of Mom’s new place, and the knowledge that everything in I had in Hamilton- school, jobs, friends, house- is all ended or ending.
Studied a little and had my final exam early this morning.
I have two days left to pack, and I move on Friday. Mom is renting a truck and Michael will be coming with her, but neither of them is very good for the lifting and loading stuff, so I’ve sent out a cry of ‘help!’ to my friends. It’s difficult getting organized- everyone is so scattered and busy this time of year, it’s a huge production just to get two of us together in the same place at the same time. Hopefully we can all work something out by Friday, and that’s all I’m going to write, because otherwise it’ll sound manipulative, and a lot like begging, which is not my intention.
Anyways, I’m going to dinner now, talk later!

Have a Proverb

Never meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.
~Unknown

Not Strangers

Want a story?

He was born in Georgia, and not very long ago. Fair-haired and golden-skinned, he was a child who shone in the sunlight. He was bright and full of laughter and energy, and could never be persuaded to sleep until after sunset, though his parents knew if they waited until then, he would be good, and even easy to lull to sleep.
He loved to be outdoors. Rainy days always left him less enthused, quiet and lethargic.
On one sunny day he was playing in the backyard, swinging on the jungle gym and rolling around with a stuffed puppy named Bruce. He stopped rolling, sitting on the warm grass, squinting at the bright sky. His mother asked him what he was thinking. “I have a secret,” he told her, but would say no more. She fed him hot dog pieces with ketchup, and he went back to his playing.
That night, while being tucked into bed, the boy whispered to his mother that he wanted to tell her his secret. “What is it?” she asked, and he told her, “The sun shines just for me.” The mother smiled at her son, enjoying his odd comment. She kissed him goodnight, and he fell asleep quickly.
She didn’t forget what her son had told her, though it was only a passing comment that he never repeated.
That winter the family went on a trip to Toronto, where the father had a business conference and thought his son would like to see snow for the first time. There was no snow when they arrived, though, just many clouds and cold wind.
It was the last day of their visit and the mother and son were walking along the sidewalk, hand in hand. They passed a young woman walking in the opposite direction, and as she passed by, the boy looked at her, and she smiled back at him.
She was older, but not so old that she’d lost that magic that belongs to the young. She was more quiet than exuberant, she smiled much but seldom laughed, her hair was dark but her eyes were bright. She liked the summer and reveled in the colours of autumn, but she waited all year for the winter. Since she was young, she’d always been able to smell the snow that was ready to fall.
She stopped walking when she saw the boy looking at her. She leant down, level with him, as he approached, his mother watching pensively from behind. “I have a secret,” the boy told her, just as he’d told his mother so many months before.
“I know your secret,” the girl quietly smiled as she said it. His mother’s brows dipped in curious confusion- what was this stranger going to say to her son?
“The sun shines just for you, doesn’t it?” the woman said. Before the mother could register her shock the stranger continued, “Do you know my secret?”
The little boy smiled and looked up at the slatey clouds overhead. “It snows just for you.”
And as the first flakes the boy had ever seen started to float down over the city, the stranger-who was not at all strange to the boy, nor he to her- smiled back, and nodded her head.

David Suzuki ruined my day!

This sucks, today sucks, everything sucks!
Stupid landlords and worker guys who take my stuff!
Stupid jeans that rip and wear out and become unwearable!
Stupid buspass in my other jacket pocket, does me no good when it's at home!
Stupid sneakers, unworn and sore-foot-making cause I have to walk because of the stupid buspass!
Stupid class that is cancelled for a guest speaker that we weren't even told about!
Stupid David Suzuki!

This day had better start shaping up, or I swear to god I'm gonna go mental on it's ass.

Joy and invasion and craziness!

Okay, I know I've only been providing snippets (at best) lately, and I'm sorry for that, but so much has been happening!
I mentioned before the program at Humber College in Toronto that I was applying to? Well, a few weeks ago I was invited to an interview at the campus. The place is pretty nice, right on the water, and lots of small, older, stone buildings scattered about. Apparently, it used to be an asylum. (!)

The interview went well, I met the head of the program, and we talked about all sorts of things- well, all sorts of book things. Anyways, I left the campus feeling pretty good. I even bumped into Hugh on the subway on the way home, which was a nice surprise.

After chewing my fingernails for about a week, I finally got a call from Mom- I'm in! Yay me!

That made this past week crazy. I had classes, in which the profs are all getting frantic because the term is almost over, and they're cramming the last bits of their lesson plans down our throats faster than we can chew. I had one and a half exams to write, and a presentation (last minute, but that couldn't be helped), to do, and then a hurried trip to Toronto to help Mom move and to fill out my acceptance forms (yay!). That trip was super quick, but taxing- so much work, so little time!

I got back and had to work all weekend, and I found out (no, we weren't informed of this beforehand) that the new landlord just took ownership of the house. That shouldn't have been a big deal, except that apparently he went into my room and toured people through it while I was in Toronto. I am super pissed. I don't even know his name, he's never introduced himself to any of us, and he made no attempt to contact any of us before he did this. From now on I'm making sure I lock my door, and I've written Article 20.3, item c of the Tenant Protection Act (A landlord may enter the rental unit without written notice to show the unit to prospective tenants if, before entering, the landlord informs or makes a reasonable effort to inform the tenant of the intention to do so.) on the message board on my bedroom door. He wasn't around this weekend, but as soon as I see him that ass is losing some skin.
I'm so sick of dealing with the sh*t this house comes with.

Not to mention that after a few lovely, true spring days, I woke up to a blizzard Saturday morning! I swear, the weather was better in December. Oh, and to top it all off, last night was daylight savings time, which I completely forgot, and so I'm getting dressed this morning, and about to do my hair, when I get a call, and Shesh is like, "Are you coming to work today? Cause you have the keys to the store..." And I was freaking late and we opened like, a half hour late and it's all my fault. At least there's nothing they can do about it. I mean, what'll they do, fire me?! (Ha ha, gone in two weeks!)

Oh, not that everything is going to hell in a handbasket. I worked the last several weeks at the bead store without taking much stuff home, specifically to save up some credit so that I can fill my beading needs completely before I leave there (having to leave the bead store is definitely one of the worst things about being done with the Ham), and on Friday I did the first of my splurging. That was and is SO MUCH FUN! Even if I don't get to go to a bead store for a good long while, I have plenty to keep me occupied for awhile at least.

Oh, and one of my housemates is gone. Apparently, Krista has moved out (I say apparently, because she has yet to come and talk to me at all). I feel a little snubbed. I mean, she likes me- she brought me a shirt from the Bahamas! I took care of her cat! (Okay, so he turned a little pink, he was still healthy!) Maybe I'll see her later.

Anyways, there's more, but I'm tired and I'm afraid this'll start to turn into me rambling. I have a good movie to watch, and a whole lot of beads to go play with. Have a good night all!

I love that I love this so much!

Okay, so if you've looked at my blog at all lately, I'm sure you've noticed that I added a *working* Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince countdown. Totally aside from how cool it is to have something so visual on my page (since I'm a no-pictures kind of blogger), it's no secret that I'm a Potter fan.
I just found out that the Scholastic marketing plan for this book begins on the 100th day before release (it boggles my mind that they're even bothering with marketing; this book is selling itself really well already), but as a fan who plans to reap all the benefits she can out of this promotion, I'm not complaining.
What I'm looking forward too most? There's going to be a Harry Potter crossword in the New York Times- I've gotta get my hands on that!
Anyone know where I can get the Times in Hamilton?

Great easter weekend ingredients:

Fresh groceries,
sunshine,
pile of kids movies,
pile of books,
almost no work,
a friend or two.

I'll be leaving Kingdom Come

When I was little, my family used to take long car rides up from the Sarn to StKitts to visit my grandparents. We would drive along the 403 and we had certain landmarks. One of the best was the 'waterfall', a pitiful small drainage-pipe flow over the rocky top of the Hamilton 'mountain'. Mom would call, 'here's the waterfall guys!' and we would ooh and ahh over the trickle, which had a habit of drying up to nonexistance in summer and freezing to icicles in winter.
On one trip, Dad didn't come with us, and so one of the kids got to take the front seat. The brother won the toss, so he rode up front the whole way there (I read in the back). When we got to Hamilton, Mom pointed out the waterfall, and I lowered my book briefly to ooh and ahh on cue, and then we went back to our carride activites; Mom silently driving, me reading, my brother laying back, carsick. This particular trip (bro was maybe four or five), he was staring out the window, and when we drove through Hamilton, he started to get really really worked up. You know that state kids can get in, when they're excited and scared and focussed all at once, and they just get super aggitated, like a speed freak on three double espressos? He was like that. It took Mom a while to get him calmed down enough to talk. Finally, little brother managed to turn around and point out what he had seen- his all important find.
Did you parents ever tell you that if you weren't good, they would 'kick you all the way to Kingdom Come'? It sounds bad in text, but Mom usually said it in jest, when she had to fulfill the 'Mom role' by punishing us, but when she really didn't want to.
Apparently, for years the little brother had been imagining 'Kingdom Come' (which I think is actually a reference to the bible). He found Kingdom Come in Hamilton. Officially, it's the 'Cathedral of Christ the King', and it's built on a small hill that overlooks the highway. (I linked it- click the title).
I've kind of always liked living in Kingdom Come.

My attitude was fine up till now...

Fifteen minutes to midnight and I am so tired and my head aches (not to mention the self-inflicted bruises I've got leftover from Friday, a.k.a the day all coordination left me) and this essay is already overdue and everything I write is crap. I don't want to take another day to finish it, I want it over and I want my friggin life back aready, but that's not going to happen. I'm so sick of this. I feel like everything that I do, that I enjoy and that makes me me to the outside world (everything that keeps me human) gets put on hold when I hole-up to write essays like this, and yes, I can hear you all out there shaking your heads and muttering things about "well, if you'd only planned better...", but right now that's pretty useless. I got out two huge essays this week, plus worked four shifts at two jobs and look after the roommate's cat...that's friggin enough for right now.
And yes, it's only midnight and I could probably stay up the seven hours until class starts and write something, but if what I'm getting down in type right now sucks ass, then how can I hope to continue, let alone finish something worthy of being handed in?
This is the kind of thinking that leads me to conclude things like 'taking an extra day to write this (and making it, therefore, better) will probably save me more marks than I would lose in late penalties'.
Well, my mind is useless now, so I guess I'll just go to bed and get some (probably stressed and therefore restless) sleep. I'll finish the damn thing tomorrow. I promise.

I can't wait!

Always the bad balanced with the good…

First, Mom and Dad and the brother and I lived together.
Then, Mom and the brother and I lived together.
Then, Mom and I lived together.
Then I went to live in an all girls dorm, but I spent most of my time with Kev and Hugh.
Then Mom and the brother and I were back together!
Then it was Kev and I and Hugh, then just Kev and I, then Kev and Hugh together with me with two girls, then Hugh and I (with Laur and Kev back in the Sarn).
Now it’s Hugh and Laur living together.

So, what is this confusing and altogether tiring tirade heading toward?

This summer, what was supposed to be Mom and the brother and I together, just turned into Mom and I- and possibly Lauren!
Way to make a full circle of it. I know this is ridiculously preliminary, but I love this idea. I’ve been looking forward to bunking with Mom again, and I’ve always wanted to live with Laur (heck- I’ve tried everything else)!

Oh, and a great congratulations goes out to the little bro for finding himself a place to live- it sounds like it’s going to be a veritable bachelor pad! Good times!

I think I used my sanity as a bookmark... and lost the book

Trapped in my bed
And losing my head
Molehills of work
Are drowning me dead

Mountains of stress
Make sanity less
Nothing gets done
And my room is a mess

Because all of these papers
Are barring my capers
All of these tests
Are stealing my jests
All of this stupid essay
Is making me cray-zay
(Yeah, I know that was weak)

Just get this week done
And free time will be won
Hand the crap in
And then have some fun!

Master of the funny-walk

I have two tests and three term papers due in the next week, which super-sucks. I have actually started working, though, which is a good thing. Spent four hours today, on my bed, lying on my stomach, feet up in the air, reading sociology books, only to rise, my spine going snap-crackle-pop, and both feet all pins-and-needley. Not pleasant. Funny to watch though.
Just let this week (and all it's necessary accomplishments) be done soon!

Bustin out all over

Okay, so I've been hesitatey-girl with this news, cause I am painfully aware of my history of musical career ideas. Doctor, writer, artist, bookstore owner, chef (I don't know what I was thinking that summer) and, following a much longer list than I have here transcribed, there was teaching (which stuck for a surprisingly long time). (Yes, that was past-tense).

Basically, I think the teaching idea was 'safe'. Mom certainly liked it, probably because (I think) she could imagine me actually making money that way (a luxury many of the past ideas didn't afford her). I should have realized that teaching wasn't really what I wanted to do when...oh, let's pick one: when I freaked out about leaving McMaster at all, when I failed to do any of the mandatory volunteer work, when I buried all the teacher's college brochures under dirty laundry, when I completely ignored deadlines for applications...I am one of the best people out there for avoiding things I don't want to do, I swear.
In any case (after that shameful admission that I can't quite believe I'm putting online for all to see, but then I guess that I didn't really make this blog to tell you all about my day-to-days, as boring as they are. I wanted to take risks here, I wanted to be honest and real. So, take a deep breath, and forge on, girl), I have found what is right for me. (Really!)

I want to be a publisher. Isn't that perfect?! Anyone who knows me will tell you, I'm all about the books. I'm that girl who hovers in the puffy chairs in the student centre always with her nose buried in the pages. I'm the one who won't buy a purse that's too small to hold a paperback (or the Order of the Pheonix, if you've ever seen the purses I carry). I'm the classmate wearing the eau-de-library cologne, the one with all the papercuts, the one whose walls are papered with post-its of book-release dates. I can navigate any Chapters in the southern Ontario region with my eyes closed.

So, I decided that being a publisher would be good, and I'm almost scared about how excited I am about this idea. My first plan was to go cold-calling all the publishing agencies I could find in the GTA after graduation, which was, let's face it, a flimsy approach at best. But, thankfully, I have a best friend who often takes better care of me than I do, and Lauren found this new program mentioned in a magazine. It's called the 'Creative Book Publishing Program' and it's running at Humber College (in Toronto) in May. So, (proving that this really is something I want to do), I immediately got off my ass and started the application process. So far, the head of the program (who sounds really nice- we've been in contact already) has been totally helpful and really positive, and I'm getting fairly psyched about this whole thing. I just hope I'm not jinxing anything by writing about it.

Anyways, I still have this essay to write for it, and an interview, but I'm almost looking forward to it. I really do think this program, and the job that (hopefully) follows it, are made for me. And this program is brand new, which makes it seem...well, do you ever get the feeling that certain things in the universe are happening just for you? I guess the cosmos are looking out for me.

Plus, I get treats! My mother was in Florida this past week, and it turns out that she and her sisters went to a bead show (and guess who lucked out???). Mom reports that I have a veritable fortune in dichromic glass to play with (yay!), and that I have at least a couple of orders to fill! I can't wait to get my hands on those pretties! (And make them prettier).

Anyways, I have Oscars to watch, as do all of you. Hope your springs come early!
Love B.

Good day

If you want the shortest distance between two points, don't ever send Tricia and I to find it. I don't know what it is about us, but every time we get together, no matter where we're going, we can never ever find it on the first try. I can tell you, though, that it is possible to arrive at a destination by traveling solely in u-turns.
After a slow start, Tricia and I made our indirect way to the Butterfly Conservatory, which was cool and we got a lot of pictures, hopefully good ones. Then to Niagara-on-the-Lake, where she bought me Celtic knot silver earrings for my birthday, and I got Greaves jam (the best) (blueberry rocks), and then we stumbled upon the chocolate shop Mom found, which is unexpectedly under new management, but the lady there assures me the chocolate will stay the same. After that, because neither of us was hungry enough for dinner, we drove to Ikea, where I got a new bowl (black, heavy glass, textured- I have a weakness for pretty things), some plants to put in my new bowl (I hope I can keep succulents alive), and some boxes because I never have anything to keep my stuff in. Then we were starving because Ikea is one of those places that distorts time, so we went to Tucker's Marketplace (an all-you-can-eat place) SO good! All in all it was a good day. Now if only I can get my shit together for the rest of this week...

Fuzzy At Best

It's about an hour after midnight, on the first day of Reading Week (no classes, huzzah), and I should be sleeping because I have this indefinite, ill-planned and fuzzily edged day to look forward to with Trish (ex-housemate) tomorrow, where we are going to Niagara. I'm looking forward to it, for a few reasons, including the fact that this will be the first time I'm out and about on my own in that area. I hope that my fuzzy-at-best knowledge of streets and direction in St. Catharines, Niagara-on-the-lake, the falls, and area will keep us from, oh say, driving off the escarpment or something (to make this analogy clearer, I envision Trish and I plummeting a la Aunt Robin in days far past).
I don't know if anyone can understand this (probably imagined) relationship I have with, and feeling I have for this area. There is something special about the place that your family roots are all attached to. I know that the generation before me might focus more fully on Russia being the root-area for us, but I might be just a tad too far removed to agree. St. Kitts is my roots. My mother is so connected with that place, and I love to hear old stories of hers, and to have her point out places that used to be significant to her, even though some of her stories range from long tales, involving old family homes, terrific storms that recall Titanic-like movie effects, and unexpected fowl visitors (are geese fowl? They are, right?), to short (or, more appropriately, abbreviated) tales, like "There was an old condemned house down there where my friends used to go to...what do you want for dinner?"
Right now my mother is in Florida, with her sisters. I am fairly jealous, though friends, books, beads, and lots and lots of TV call to me, and make me look forward to this week. I definitely am not looking forward to the reading that needs to be done over reading week. Bleah- that's the only time I'm going to mention that.
Here's a point that will make you smile, mom; you have sun, and highs of 25 degrees. We just got what looks like about 2 feet of snow! Yay!
Yeah, I just watched a parade of snowplows drive by. Seriously, there were three.
Anyways, I'm rambling. I wish that this week could be pure relaxation, but unfortunately there always seems to be something to focus on. Oh well, the thing that needs focusing upon right now, is sleep. Goodnight, friends. Have a good break, all.

Happy Birthday to Me

Well, fair readers, it's finally arrived. My birthday is here (as of thirty-two minutes ago), and I am twenty-four.
Wow that's a big number.
Well, I guess, technically, I'm not really twenty-four for another...seventeen hours or so (that right Mom?). That's when the namesake of this blog comes true. Fairly proud I've made it this far...

Really tired, so forgive the randomness of this blog.

Instructions from Lauren on what to do today (well, today after sleep. Sunday day, if that's any more clear):
Live it up. It's all about you - eat icing for breakfast. Wear socks that don't match just because you like them together. Stay in bed as of 7pm. Floss with licorice. HAVE A GREAT DAY!

I plan to follow her suggestions...they sound pretty good. Except I plan to modify 'floss with licorice' to 'eat lots of licorice', cause, her way...eew.

Anyways, even if the day is on the lame side of awesome, seeing as how I have to work and then study for Monday's test on Russian myth (unenthusiastic 'yay'), I plan to blog again and tell you all about it (sarcastic exclamation point)!
Good night for now...wish me many happy returns. (Except I like all my gifts, so there won't be any of those. Most are gift certificates so far anyway. Yay- looks like reading week is shaping itself into a no-guilt shopping spree for me!)

Okay, now I'm birthday-rambling. Birthday-logging off now. Good birthday-night.

Water, tests, metal, money.

Ever had one of those days that feels an awfully lot like you're the subject of a movie? Like there are a bunch of people out there watching something akin to 'Garden State', or 'Amelie', or more fearsomely like 'Being John Malkovich', but it's you up on the screen?
Wanna know how I woke up this morning? A bunch of books on a shelf beside my bed shifted. Books knocked over a closed bottle of water, there for watering Phil the Philodendron. Water bottle fell over to the shelf behind my bed, and knocked over a vase full of bamboo and gross algae water, onto my pillows, and hence, all over my hair. Waking up in a wet bed I'm sure is never pleasant and always worrisome, but when the water is trickling down the sides of your face, you know something's gone real wrong.
So, after a pile of soppy wet paper towels, a hurried shower, and change of sheets, I went to class. Where we wrote a test I didn't know about. Boo!
Had lunch with a friend from my next class where we grilled each other for the test I DID know about, wrote said test in one of those stereotypical college amphitheater rooms, where it takes a full eighteen minutes (I timed it) for the burnt-brained invigilators to hand out the tests.
Got the hell out of there and went to work. Deb gave me a present! I got a watch with a white band and two cute little glasswork hearts, in green. I'm going to make a lariat for the hearts.
Deb left and I had a class to run tonight- Chainmaking 101- and Brian showed up to teach it. Brian's pretty cool, he's in Comp Eng at Mac and makes his own jewellery. He's got a site, click on the title of this blog, I'll add the link.
So the class goes okay and the bus ride home is not so mundane as usual, cause Brian and I talk and it turns out he knows Mark (same program), and I get home and there's a letter for me and it's some bank that I have never done business with and they're offering me a loan. Who the hell gets random loan offers from foreign banks in the mail? What is this, like, "Well, she's dug herself in this deep, why not give her a shiny new shovel?!" This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard of. I've learned my lesson! I'm never taking out another loan again! Car, house, horse, whatever, I'm paying cold, hard cash from here on out, and not a cent more than what I can afford, then and there. Can't afford it? I'll go without!
And if I ever start writing this blog from my new home: #1 Fridgebox, Crackhead Alley, Ontario...you'll know why.

Adventures in Printmaking

After finally breaking down and purchasing a brand-spanking-new box of plain, sad, boring little bandaids, I've retuned to my finger-sacrificing hobby. I have tentatively finished three cuts (full pictures on blocks, not yet printed). So, tonight I decided to open up an actual bottle of ink for the first time and make a proof print (like a test print; you use crap paper instead of the good stuff. It shows you where further work is needed on the cuts). I was very careful. I got out newspaper to cover the floor. I took off all my rings, and tied back my hair. I changed into my hair-dye pants. It should have been quick, clean and easy.

Unforeseen obstacle to the quick, clean and easy plan: Buzz, the idiot freak-cat.

Picture the peaceful tableaux; a girl in neat pigtails leans over a beautiful art-nouveau inspired nameplate design, rolling black, sticky ink, in a quiet, neat manner.
Now, interrupt that tranquility with the dive-bombing out-of-nowhere mania of Buzz, the Godzilla/feline fiend! Claws extended, ears all kitten-perky, he attacks!..In the middle of a puddle of ink.
Here's an obvious statement, readers: kitten + printing ink...No good can come of this. And trust me, none did.

I suppose this could have been, all told, a minor problem, except for the fact that I (and I admit my mistake here, though I do so begging your understanding for my surprised and upset state of mind at that moment, which caused my reaction) screamed at the top of my lungs, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU LITTLE MORON?!"
Which had the all-too-predictable effect of sending poor, inky Buzz TEARING ALL OVER MY ROOM!

After a ridiculous chase around said room, which should by all rights have been accompanied by some snazzy pursuit-music (preferably featuring the all-too-unappreciated banjo), a messy pigtailed, inky handed Me carried, by the scruff of his evil little neck (which might just have been the only clean piece of him), an understandably disgruntled Buzz to the bathroom, got him even more disgruntled by shoving him under the faucet and giving him a good dousing, and then threw him back into Krista's apartment.

Alone, peace restored, I returned to my room, tidied, fixed my pigtails...and watched tv for an hour. Printing suddenly seemed not-so-worth it. And kind of...tame.

Quiet evening after a visit home

I've been away the last few days visiting Mom. She has a cold- a sinus thing- so right now I'm taking bets on whether I'll get it or not. I think my odds are pretty good though- I feel fine and I very rarely get sick. VERY rarely. Though I probably just jinxed myself.
It was a good few days and Mom got me a birthday present- a gift certificate to Chapters. She said, when she gave it to me "Some day I'll get you a REAL present for your birthday"...But I don't really get what that means. Her believing that free books is not EXACTLY what I want, at any time, and for any reason, is fairly suspect, and makes me think she's forgotten who I am.
And we went shopping. I got new pillows (I love pillows. Really. Frankly there are more pillows on my bed than there is space for a person. Luckily I'm not that big a person). And I got some funky clothes, and a DVD I've been wanting for a long while. And more books. It was a prosperous trip!
Anyways, I got home and now (well, after I write this), I will study for the test I have tomorrow while watching the movie Amelie (I can't function without background noise, so don't give me that look).
I love that movie. It's clever and pretty and the first time I saw it was a weekend I'd gone back to Sarnia to babysit some girls from my old neighbourhood, and Mom came to their place after I'd put them to bed and we watched Amelie together. Mom complained right at the beginning that she'd forgotten her glasses (it's a subtitled movie), so, thinking she couldn't read the lines, I proceeded to read them to her...through the entire movie. It wasn't until after the film finished that she bothered to tell me that she could read the subtitles, but that she'd let me continue because she thought I'd enjoyed doing it. Which I kind of had, but the news was disconcerting, nevertheless.
Some movies don't have to be good to bring you back over and over, if they carry your own good memories. I guess I'm just lucky that this one is.

Life is a series of vicious circles

Okay, so I do a bunch of lino cutting and shred my digits, so I use up all my bandaids fixing said digits, and won't do any more cutting until I get more bandaids, but I can't find the bandaids that I like anywhere...and so I will do no more lino cutting? Well, that conclusion sucks.

Okay, so I don't do any studying at work cause I'm at work, and I don't do any studying at home cause my computer is a distraction, so I go to Mark's place where he says we'll read, except he has two monitors on his super-cool computer, so I have to try this out... and so I do no studying. Well, my attention span sucks.

Okay, so I'm working on a new beading project, but I don't bring it to the bead store with me because I have other things to do there, and while I'm at the bead store and trying to do other things, I find more beads to buy...so I start more projects. Well, being idle sucks.

Okay, so I haven't seen my Mom for any decent length of time because I'm so busy, so I make no plans for reading week so I will not be busy, but Mom is going to Florida with her sister over my reading week...so now I have no plans. Well, I'm SoL.

I'm getting dizzy from all these circles.

Can't type- too few fingers

Arrgh! How many times am I going to do this? I know that I said I wanted the printmaking set, I know that I am having fun doing this, and I really like the current project I’m working on, but how many fingers am I going to sacrifice to this hobby? For those of who who don’t know, printmaking involves cutting a design into a piece of hard rubber (in this case, linoleum) and then inking the plate and printing it onto a paper to make the design. The problem? The linoleum I have is hard-good for the image, bad for my digits. You see, cutting the design involves a lot of gouging with this wicked little tool called a lino cutter- which frequently pushes off the lino, out of control, and (mostly) ends up embedded in a finer or two of mine.
Now, I KNOW that this happens. I KNOW that this is a risk, and its actually one I am perfectly willing to take. But I still have the bandaid on my middle finger from last weeks' mishap, and today I have to put on another one on my thumb- fine, so I look like someone who tried to stop a fan while it was plugged in, I can accept that. But it’s when I stab my thumb AGAIN, THROUGH the bandaid, that I really start to question my choice of pastime.
But then again- Van Gogh gave up an ear.

Train of thought

Okay, so I have this night class tonight and even though all I really want to do is not to go, I go, and it's snowing and cold and I get to class and Chris (the friend) is there and we spend the twenty minutes leading up to when the class starts complaining, cause no one really wants to be there, and the classroom's really really hot, and finally the prof arrives and spends the first thirty minutes talking about the term paper that's not due for the next seven weeks, and you'd think he'd be helpful except he begins by telling us that what a successful essay really needs is to begin with a 'jazzy title', and you've got to be kidding me- a jazzy title?
So I get home from class, and I do a little beading, and I do a little cleaning, and I think about doing some homework, but I've got all day tomorrow, so I procrastinate, and by then it's getting late, and I have an early class tomorrow, with Oliver (the crush), so I want to look good, so I push the button to turn off the tv, but I've got the remote upside-down (new remote) so instead it just flips to another channel, and there's this movie starting and it's Donnie Darko, and I've never seen it, but I think that Martin (the roommate) has mentioned it before, he said it was really good, which should have been a warning in and of itself, but instead I get interrested, and so I start watching, and now it's really late and I'm going to go to bed, but the movie isn't done and there's this damn scary bunny in it that is seriously freaking me out.
I'm going to kill Martin.

Godzillablog continued...

Yeah, I talk, like, A LOT, so this is a continuation of my last mile-long blog. It’s Godzillablog.
New Year’s Eve was a humble affair this year. My friends and I got together at Laur and Hugh’s place in Toronto, and we stayed in and had pizza and played games- especially this fantastic version Laur made of the…you know that Friends episode where Ross makes the trivia game about the Friends, and the girls lose and they have to switch apartments? Lauren made that, about us. It was very cool, and Lauren, I would like a copy. No! (Brainstorm), you should put it online so we can all add to the questions. The game will get huge!
We watched the ball drop on television and went out on the balcony and yelled a lot. It was pretty classic- or clichéd, however you like to see it.
Saturday was tame, we went out to this diner that should have been cool, but, it being New Year’s Day, at breakfast, the place (and the staff) were a little frenzied. Then we drove home.
Sunday I worked at the toy store, which should have been a calm day, except that some vandals had smashed in one of the giant display windows that night, and we spent all morning dealing with getting the glass taken out and boarded up. Falling glass can be REALLY loud.
And then I had classes again. My professors this semester are, well, characters is probably the best way to describe them. For anthropology (myths class), the prof really knows his stuff, but that means he talks really fast, and often in Old Norse, which apparently we’re supposed to be able to follow. Add that to the fact that we have a section of 300 students in a classroom built to hold 250, and it makes for a trying course. But I really like the subject matter. Then I have a class on Science Fiction, which I’m really looking forward to, but on Wednesday (the second class), our prof just never showed up, which, frankly, is not very confidence inspiring. Finally, there’s Music for Film and Television (stop rolling your eyes, I can study whatever I want!). The prof is a very rotund man, with a thick beard…frankly, a Santa candidate except for the plentiful and often inappropriate jokes. He’s kind of a riot. I had his class today, and it would have been fine, except that the weather sucked ass, and three busses blew by before I finally got on one, and then (five minutes late), I get to the class and the location has been changed, so a group of us who all ran in at the same time are just standing there, staring at this sign that’s redirecting us to MDCL 1350, until one of us finally speaks up and voices what we’re all thinking:
“What the hell is MDCL 1350?”
Fifteen minutes late, wet, very cold, and frustrated, we finally zeroed in on where the new class was (new building on campus, still under construction), and it’s this humongous auditorium- it turns out all the sections have been combined, for ease (just what about 550 people in one room with a fat guy yelling at us, though we still can’t hear him because he’s a technological infant and can’t work a portable mic, is easy?).
Anyways, the week (and this blog) is finally over. I have a weekend to get to. Wish me luck!

Catching Up

Okay, I’m not going to waste my time saying ‘I should have blogged forever ago, sorry, blah blah blah’, cause you all know I’m thinking it and it’s a waste of time. So, I'll just jump on into the catching up, deal?
I finished my last exam in about twenty minutes, give or take, and I have my fingers crossed that that’s a good thing. Yes, there is a possibility that if I went and looked online right now I might find out for sure, but frankly, my bravery meter is pretty low at the moment. I’m sure the number won’t change if I leave it unrevealed for a little while longer.
In any case, the first semester is done, tg, and I can get on with my life, or whatever. I keep telling myself I’m ready to leap head first into the next semester, but I’m not really sure whether I’m feeling it.
After that last exam, a whole lot of work, some frenzied gift shopping and some wonderful heaven-sent SNOW, I made it home. Home sweet home.
As Mom put it, “I pity all those people out there who don’t know how to do Christmas properly.” For the record, ‘properly’ is a whole lot more food than six people need (and there was only three of us), more movies than you can count (literally- I tried), and lots of laying about.
Mom was hilarious. We’d barely walked through the door when she started ‘casually’ mentioning presents. The brother and I smiled and said, “Mom, if you want a present, just say so.” Over and over she responded “No, whenever you want to exchange them is fine- I’m in no rush.” She said this about eight times in a twelve hour period, so finally we (the kids) laughed and indulged her. We opened gifts after breakfast, and then- you guessed it- watched another movie. Or rather, the first one of that day.
I think she was pleased with her gifts. I hope she was.
I, on the other (and more selfish) hand, got a great haul. From the FABULOUS art book the brother got me (Andy Goldsworthy- he’s my fave), to the perfect perfect snowflake necklace Mom found at the One-of-a-Kind Show, to the print supplies I have yet to make use of, I loved it all. I had also asked for a set of drawers that I saw at Ikea that would be great to keep my beads in. Unfortunately, I’d not only forgotten that I’d asked for it, but I also failed to realize that, coming from Ikea, they wouldn’t come preassembled. Result? I tore the wrap off a very heavy box to reveal little wooden pieces. They were the ends of the drawers, but they looked like--
Me: “You got me building blocks!” (Slightly confused excitement).
Mom: smiles, proud of herself, oblivious to my…obliviousness.
Me: “No, really, what the hell is this?”
I then tore the rest of the wrap away, saw the instructions, and the light of revelation finally came on.
“Oh yeah! Thanks!”
I should mention here, that my brief but baffled belief that my mother had bought her twenty-almost-four year old a set of building blocks my not have been so wildly inconceivable. Just a couple of years ago, on the same holiday, my mother smugly handed me an oddly shaped package that turned out to be, well, a fish. A stuffed animal trout, actually. Odd, but very beloved, I have named it ‘Gefilte’.
In any case, my holiday may have been short, but it was sweet. I had to work on the 27th.
The rest of that week was normal, and very restful, and I was pretty happy with it. I built and then started to paint my new bead drawers, I sketched out designs for prints, I thought a lot about cleaning my room, and I might agree with myself to do that sometime soon. I read a lot, though not what I wanted- Lauren has my fifth Harry Potter and she’s holding it hostage and it’s starting to drive me insane.
On the upside of that subject, the sixth book has been announced for release on July 16th, 2005. I AM SO EXCITED!!!

Essay master

Twenty ducks, in a gaggling group, mish-mashing themselves in confusing circles, jostling and moving till the whole thing resembles nothing more than a squirming mass, is much less desirable than a neat row of ducks, all in order. Try to count the unorganized bunch:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, no, wait, that’s…1, 2, 3…hey, you get back! Oh for heaven’s sake, I give up!
Even if there are a few good, nice ducks in there, they get disguised by the jostlingness of the gaggle.
However, just a few neat ducks in a row is easy to count, and even if there aren’t as many, they’re still more impressive.
This is the way that I ace university exams.
I am the duck herder of essays. I can do what few others can do: make my ducks look impressive, even if they’re plain. I am able to make things all nice and organized, without even trying. I can take less information than a normal essay needs or ought to have, and talk so that it sounds like I’m making impressive statements about…nothing.
I am the magician, I am the sneak-thief.
I can give order to disorderly ducks, without even trying. Call me the ‘Babe’ of exam essays. Give me any topic, and I’ll be happy to baa-ram-ewe a pass.

I think the mouse is a Jew

Wow- I haven't blogged in like, forever and ever. Contrary to what I'm sure you must all be believing, I haven't died. I'm still here! And please forgive the unexpected and extended absence. In my defense, there was a blog written during this period, though when I went to publish it, the site lost its head and deleted my post. Since said post was about working until all hours of the night and early morning, I'm sure you'll understand that I didn't stay up even later to re-type it. Sorry.
In any case, here I am! In the past two weeks I've been busy...
Finished a couple of essays, the last on the aforementioned night of very very little sleep. After said night, I went to class, and fought to stay awake, until just before slipping into a coma, had a nice little conversation with someone who touched my shoulder before leaving to catch his bus and I SHOULD NOT be writing about this and I'll say no more since if you've talked to me at any point during the last two weeks, you already know what I'm referring to and are thinking me even more ridiculous than you had ever suspected before this point.
In any case, I went to the bead store and worked all day, finished taking a beading class that evening, then hopped on a bus to Toronto to visit Mom for a couple of days (I know- I have no idea how I did that on no sleep either).
Mom was a peach and let me sleep in the next morning, so we didn't get to the one-of-a-kind show the way she wanted to, but instead we got our nails done and then went to my Aunt Rose's birthday party. That was a fun night, though I won't go into details (I'm thinking of writing a story about it- the literary gems of that night are just too good to pass up).
A few days later I was again in Toronto (this time with marginally more sleep under my belt), and shopped till I almost literally dropped, then hooked up with Lauren and had very Jewish food at the Pickle Barrel (there ought to be one of those places on every corner).
I got back to Hamilton on the first day of Hanukkah, and (shamefaced admonition) I forgot about it until talking online with Hugh that evening. After swearing online, I hurriedly dug my menorah (a very ugly tin ruler-shaped thing that technically belongs to a friend of Mom's) out of storage, and then realized I had no candles. Tried to get them the next day and was out of luck when I discovered that (contrary to my memory), they were not sold at the grocery store. So, it was that on day three of a religious holiday I walked into a Jewish market and asked the lady for a pack of candles, and when she gave me a 'look' (the you're-an-obviously-Jewish-girl-buying-Hanukkah-candles-on-day-three-of-Hanukkah-evil-eye look), so I stumblingly told her (through my teeth!) that my roommate had left my box of candles on the radiator. The 'look' evaporated and she laughed at the idea of my one giant Hanukkah candle. Mom's surprised that the sky didn't open up and strike me down with lightening then and there. But ever since I've lit the candles like a good girl! I swear!
Though tonight I was lighting them and stopped in the middle because the mouse came out and looked at me...maybe it's a Jewish mouse. Maybe if I put a piece of knish in there I'd finally catch him...
In any case, I've been pretty much work, work, work and study, study, study lately...
I have two more exams left, and hopefully they'll go well, and I promise to blog more often...though it might be after exams!
Even if I don't blog soon, you can be sure to find a full account of the holidays after the fact, present lists and descriptions included, and feel free to fill be in on your hauls as well- hopefully you'll all get what your hearts desire!
Have a good night everybody, and good holidays, and for heavens sake, pray for snow, cause the thin, quick-melting tease-snow we've had so far is just not good enough. (Though maybe the sky is just giving me a chance to go buy new boots before I really need them)!