This is why I hate my alarm.

This morning I had a very enjoyable dream. Instead of arms, I had wings, and there was some sort of enormous warehouse environment, and I had some superhero type friends, and we were fighting some evil dude and his minions, but all that was secondary to the flying. The entire dream I was soaring around the warehouse, going super fast, or super high, weaving through the aisles. It was amazingly detailed, I could feel the strain in my arms as I took off, the effort needed to make altitude, the feel of wind under my wings. I even landing on the top of a wooden pole, like one of those old wooden power poles, and I almost lost my balance because I had only my sneakers to stay on. It was SUCH an awesome dream. I fricken love flying dreams.

And then I woke up, and I've been pretty depressed all day. It's a commonly expressed sentiment, but by god I wish I could fly, more than anything.


Anyway, I'll be home soon, and won't have to worry about school anymore, which will be lovely.

I have a headache.

S the other day I stayed up all night to do a project (which is probably crap anyway), and the next day in school I kept falling asleep in class, which was likely very noticeable as I sit at the front and stuff. And we learned about acupressure points that make you wakeful, and they worked so I didn't fall asleep again.
ANYWAY, the point of the story. Normally, when I am tired, I draw in the margins of my books to keep me awake, but on Tuesday I fell asleep while doing that. Which meant I sleep-drew a little bit, which made my day. I'd drawn an elephant head, and when I woke up there seemed to be this bird-shaped tumour on it's back that kind of tapered off into nothingness.

Book Reviews

I've read a few books recently, and I thought I would share my opinions about them here.

1. Bloodtide, by Melvin Burgess
Set in London after a catastrophic few years, this dystopian novel has a very promising start. It follows the story of a 14 year old girl and her twin brother, and chronicles around a decade in their lives. The story begins with a treaty between the two rival gangs that rule London, to unite and join forces against the half-men, constructs of a forgotten time in humanity and about whom little is known. The premise is a good one, but the very few of the characters invoke empathy. The novel is violent, graphic and disturbing, but it lacks an anchoring character to make sense of it and drag it out of gratuity. Book 2 is especially disappointing, as too seldom the suspense is terminated prematurely, leaving you unsurprised at the apex. The people and animals in the novel have little redeeming value, despite reacting realistically to the situation, and perhaps that it why it is ultimately unsatisfying; the reader expects the protagonists to rise above their situation, to master it, instead of being an eternal victim trapped by circumstance. Basically an alright book, but not really for those who are sensitive to violence, or awkward sexy stuff (I don't mean that all sex is awkward, I mean the sex that happens in the book is).

2. Mouse Guard: Fall 1152, by David Petersen
This is a graphic novel, set in a fantasy world where mice have underground, medieval civilisations. Three of the elite "Mouse Guard" are sent on a routine mission, and discover a conspiracy with far reaching consequences. The story is simple to follow and gripping, and the characters are distinct and personable (and adorable). The art is fantastic, and drives the story, as it can go pages without dialogue. The settings are varied and rich, and while it is detailed, it is not overly busy or distracting. My one complaint is that the action scenes are sometimes a little difficult to follow. Overall very entertaining, I would recommend it to anybody.

3. The Outlander, by Gil Adamson
Now THIS is a story about a protagonist who rises above. Set in Western Canada at the turn of the century, this book follows the flight of Mary Boulton, a young woman widowed by her own hand, and chronicles her adventures. The book starts out slow and was initially a little confusing, but it soon picks up and becomes difficult to put down. Adamson's writing style is uniquely fascinating, laced with subtleties that give the narrative a rich and complex feel, while keeping the story flowing. The pace and language of the novel changes drastically throughout, keeping the reader bound to Mary Boulton's surroundings and circumstances, and convey emotion and tension very well. One of the best books I've read this year.


I own all these books, so if you would like to borrow one let me know in the comments and I'll bring them home with me for Christmas.

Prepare Yourself.

In lieu of important school work I am gonna tackle some of my unfinisheds, so there oughta be a lot of drawings coming in the next couple of days.

First off comes this horse. I have been drawing a lot of horses lately, and this is mostly due to the fact that there are a LOT of tutorials on how to do this. There are also a lot of tutorials on wolves, so I expect I'll move on to canids at some point. This particular horse has a lot of anatomical issues, but I noticed them after I pretty much finished, so I don't really want to redo it. Lazy!


















I also expect that I'll start making real backgrounds, but that will probably be when I am happier with what's in the foreground.
I want to go to Michael's, and buy a selection of those little plastic animals for references, because searching the Internet is not that much fun. Plus, Toys!

I have also been attempting to brainstorm ideas for a comic, because I think this is excellent practice and a good way to track progress. I've thought of an idea of a rat detective, the adventures of a baby crocodile, and a lady minotaur so far. I seem to be staying away from people, which is good because I cannot so much draw them. I will give you, my public, some character sketches and preliminaries to critique, and please toss your own ideas out. Should it be a serial comic, ala Lackadaisy? A serial interspersed with social commentary and witticisms, ala Shortpacked!? Or should it just be a day to day, whatever I feel like drawing, like the Perry Bible Fellowship?
(You should also check out The Abominable Charles Christopher)
Also, is it obvious I found the hyperlink button?

Warning: Severe Self-Deprecation Ahead. You are now entering the Mopey Zone.

America, you kind of rock.

Obama is PRESIDENT. HELLS. YES. I AM RIDICULOUSLY STOKED. I am very fond of this man.

Apparently I have to moderate posts now... Curious.

Sup? I've been super busy recently, and I need to buy plaster and set it for my art project, or else the TERRIFYING woman in charge of the studio will massacre me. Haha. In other news, Calico Jack (my fish, remember?) has died, but Charlie and Adonis seem to be doing most well. I would post pictures, by my camera is broken or something, the stubborn thing.

Next for you I have an addition to my cartoon journal, done in a different way than usual, as it describes my whole week and also has a bunch of stuff I just felt like doodling. It won't be hard to tell which is which. I highly suggest you click to enlarge so you can admire the details. Mostly the horse.



I want to hear more from you.

2 am.

A short post for you this time:

Alright, because people apparently enjoy reading my nonsensical rants, I'll try to remember them for you. I have taken Nomad's suggestion and procured myself a tiny notebook wherein I shall write my brain brews.

To get you all started, here is a quandary I pondered the other day, in a new segment called

Wulf's Perplex!

If marketing and commercialism was free of sexism, racism, classism, homophobia, and the like, would it be a bad thing? Is the inherent persuasive nature of our consumer culture damaging? Does being aware of the manipulation of marketing tools keep you safe? Are people aware?

Hey-o

Hey, so update time.

Living with the brother is I'm sure going to work out, although I may gain 50 pounds. We have aerosol deodorant fights, and fights where he bashes me with a water bottle and I try to remove his skin with me claws, and it's all rather a load of fun.

We have also got ourselves 3 goldfish, whom I adore already. You will be spammed with pictures. One of them has spots on the tail, which if they spread I'll have to do fun things like a salt dip, which worries me so much. Ugh. I'm silly.

I haven't had much drawing time, but I've got a few irons in the fire on that front that'll soon be done for your perusal.

I also hope to be updating more here, once I've got myself paced.

Pacing is proving to be difficult, because once again I find myself very behind in my readings. This would not be a big deal if I was in first year, but I'm not, so I need to get on that before I become irreparably behind.

I am also taking a full course load of 5 classes for the first time since first semester, and 3 of them are anthropology's and 2 of those are 3000 levels, so yeah, really quite high on course work. For you, a list:

1 4 pg paper
1 observation exercise
1 interview exercise
1 research proposal
7 tests
4 2 pg papers
weekly group presentations
1 15 pg term paper
1 6 pg paper
1 8 pg paper
1 large group project

The papers add up to 41 pages total. That's a 6th of a novel. (ish.)

My courses are pop culture anthropology, methods knowledge and ethics, medical anthropology, art history, and women's studies.

My mother is not pleased about the women's studies thing. I think she thinks it's a class full of 1970 radical feminazi lesbians. I really enjoy it, however. While it hasn't made me more feminist (like I could be) it's enabled me to more fully articulate my feelings on the matter, and to grasp how big the issues really are. (Hint: ENORMOUS) I also sometimes get fired up with feminist fervour, and I kind of wish I had someone to rant to when that happens.

Art history is super fun, actually. That would be a course I failed before, but apparently the teacher, who is the same one from the first time, didn't remember me from her class (though where she remembers me from I don't know.) Of course, she found this out when I reminded her and now she thinks I'm an idiot. But it's still fun.

My anthropology courses are interesting and difficult and otherwise unremarkable, except for medical anthropology. I'd had the professor before and found her to be a decent teacher, but she's decided to implement weekly group presentations. I DO NOT WANT. I'm finding it really hard to dredge up any enthusiasm whatsoever for this, and mostly just find myself dreading it. I don't mind group presentations when they're the exception rather than the rule, and I don't mind in class group work, but meeting outside of class every three weeks (there's a cycle thing I don't want to get into) and then choosing a groups presentation arbitrarily to write a 2 page paper on due the week after the topic you choose? It just gets really confusing and hard to organise and I don't wanna.


I think I'm going to cut myself off here to tell you guys that I really miss you, I loves you, and I'm going to do my best to be in the best contact I can.

Oh, internets.

So since I have moved, I do not have internet, hence the dearth of updates. Sorry. But we should have it installed mid next week, and then I will be able to live again.

So, living with the brother:

It's going well. The use is somewhat clean still, and dishes get done generally within 24 hrs. We've had no major disagreements.

There are, naturally, some adjustments to be made. My brother, for instance, eats nothing in moderation. We make some cookies? Brilliant, but he eats them all at once, so I must also eat my share before he finishes his, or watch as it all disappears. Also, K-Y visited this weekend, and while I do not mind his company, my brother gets a little ruder in his proximity.


School is going well. And uneventfully, so that is all I have to report on that front. Hopefully I will have better adventures to impart next time we meet.

The end is nowhere in sight.

So the past 2 days, every waking hour has been devoted into moving. Hurray. But the flip side of that is I got my house almost all set up, so if people wanna come down and admire, that could be arranged.

I have a bunch of angsty stories about my mother, but I figure since I'm not a teenager anymore, I'll suck it up and let it go. (Ha, I wish myself luck.)

Next, we have my latest tablet offering. It started out being a Riker-dog, but somehow lost all of the jowls and the ear volume so now it's kind of Jack Russel terrier-esque. I should probably use reference photos eventually, but my fur technique, if not my anatomy, is slowly improving. I still pretty much blow at shadows and shading though. Enjoy, anyway, and let fire with the feedback. (click to make it big, although maybe you shouldn't!)

Omnivore's 100, wot I stole.

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/€80/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

There are probably more, I will google them. But for now, 25%

On how I'm odd.

So I'm less upset over China's Olympic deceptions than it seems I should be. I really don't know why that is, as it kind of seems like a thing I'd get riled over.

On the flipside, I find it outrageously annoying when robots are used as comic relief. That fire extinguishing robot from Iron Man, for example? Just about ruined it for me.

I was gonna say more, but now it's late.

But before I go: how come I don't get no comments? (cept from Redcard?)(Thanks Redcard.)

Alcohol poisoning? Delicious! I'll take 2.

Yeaaahhhh, so never ever drinking like that again. Maybe no drinking ever. Blurgh.

And to the people who took care of me and cleaned up after my sorry ass, you're rockstars.

Especially you, jo.

Dear America,

So yesterday night I watched the Beijing Olympic opening ceremonies, and it was one of the most genuinely beautiful things I've ever seen.

And then this morning, I find out that an American group is going to picket the funeral of that young man killed on the Greyhound. Why? Because they believe his murder was divine retribution against Canada's immoral laws. And PETA is using his death to their advantage too - "This is why killing animals is wrong."


Dear America,

You've really disappointed me. I've never been a fan of your foreign policy, the Bush government is an international embarrassment, and your electoral process is a joke.
But most of all, I cannot stand the ingrained, blatant hypocrisy that runs through everything you do. Don't get me wrong, all of your people that I've met have been lovely. My question, though, is what THE FUCK happened to the separation of church and state? I realise that your country was founded on the principle of religious freedom, but frankly, I ain't seeing it. In a time when doctors are refusing abortions and emergency contraception, when pharmacists are refusing birth control, when the singular argument against gay marriage is religion (neglecting the fact that all the rights of marriage come from the state, not from the church), this hypocrisy is dragging us back into the dark ages of human rights.
So what I would like you to do, America, is get some control over yourself, and your religious right. Stop letting them rule the way you present yourself in the world. I promise, it won't be the end of everything. And tell them to stay the hell away from that man's funeral.


Oh, and PETA? I don't mean to belittle your mission, but get a frickin' life.


- from a (very) concerned Canadian

Me, a bum.

Alright, so because I cannot let anyone have an original idea without doing my best to ruin it, here goes my, far inferior, cartoon journal.



Click to make it better!

And because I'm never done being an idiot, it's youtube video time!


This one needs no explanation.


This is an interview with Salvador Dali, and the artist (same guy as the first) chopped it up, reordered it and animated it.




Lastly, muppets.

Is moral support a buddy who helps you not kill people?

I am so over the Alberta hating. Especially the oil rants (because perhaps some of the redneck rants may be warranted.) I'm especially irritated by people from other provinces bashing Alberta, for so many reasons, not the least of which but easiest to state: where's the national pride and loyalty? We're all one pretty good country with a lot of potential, and infighting never got anybody anywhere.

Now, the arguments. First, there are the people who complain about Alberta being so wealthy and the other provinces not so much. Um, it's not like we purposefully went back in time and buried some dinosaurs and plants in our province. Also, when one province is rich, it's good for the entire country - the entire country's GDP goes up, the employment rate goes up (you know how many people from the eastern provinces work in the oil business? All of them.) I'm talking to you, people complaining how Alberta doesn't share. And I'm sorry, but since when has being successful been a bad thing?


Another argument I hear a lot is the pollution angle, and how Alberta's oil industry is single-handedly ruining the planet. I may be biased through my employment by the industry, or perhaps I'm more informed, I won't rule either way, but from what I've seen, the oil giants (or at least certainly Shell) are extremely concerned with the environment. A great deal of money goes into developing future technologies, making more efficient engines and fuels, and reducing pollution output. And the people who are frothing at the mouth over tar sands? Um, not such a big deal. I know those birds died and all, but the number one issue is the tailings, the leftover sand from the extraction process, and they use THAT to contain the water, which they reuse. Yer damn skippy the reuse it. And each tailings pond and well are close together, and cover a smaller area than West Ed, and the rest of Northern Alberta is pretty much untouched, so migration routes? Not really so much in trouble. Also, I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts that the people who complain about pollution use cars and airplanes and public transportation and electricity. The market is driven by demand - there wouldn't be any pollution without the consumers, a group most certainly constituted by a vast majority of non-Albertans.

Lastly (unless I think of more) are the people who are all "Alberta is too loose with their resources, because we're gonna run out of oil, and then where are we gonna be?" And I confess, I am sort of a member of this group, but since when does it fall to one province to meet the energy needs of the country? I don't see any other provinces stepping up to the plate. And I'd like to - you don't need access to fossil fuels to develop alternative forms of energy. Canada is supposed to be a pretty smart country (except possibly our prime minister, but I plan to have his job someday, and I'm BRILLIANT), so where are our research facilities? Sure, Alberta is hogging all the money so there's no funding, but couldn't the government use some taxes? They're certainly getting a lot from income tax, as I'm uncomfortably aware of. (Nothing makes me angrier than seeing 20% ish of my money disappearing over the horizon, never to return.)

I digress.

Well, that's my rant, and I hope I didn't offend anybody irreparably. Just to make sure, comment with your thoughts, pleasey cheesey?

Random Wanderminds

I loathe the word "scrubby".

I don't want to use the word crisis, because it's not bad, so I'm going to say my mother is having a midlife re-imagining. She bought a bowflex and dyed her hair.

Feeding the dog dry spaghetti is good clean fun.

I really want to go out for drinks and chill with ma peeps.

Also, I made another drawing! Yay! I'm satisfied with it, mostly because I was running out of patience. You can tell by the hastily cobbled background. Still, for not having a reference, I think I did okay. (click it to make it huge)

2 posts in 2 days? What devilry is this?

Alright, so here it is - I unveil for you my very first tablet art. This was basically an excuse to try out some effects and familiarise myself with photoshop, hence the rondonkulously sub-par quality. Still, I hope you enjoy the whimsical tale that is Bike Ride, July 7.

I haven't blogged for a long while - I apologise.

What's new in my life - I bought some goalie pads, so if people want to come over and throw/shoot pucks at me as hard as they can, that'd be a fun time.
For my birthday, I got a tablet, so I've been having loads of fun drawing on my computer, but I am ridiculously slow at it. Nevertheless, expect my first rudimentary efforts to come trickling out at some point.

Here is a survey thing I did a couple of days ago, enjoy it.

1. What is your occupation right now? Technical assistant for Shell.

2. What colour are your socks right now? Not wearing any! My feet are cold.
3. What are you listening to right now? My brother watching youtube videos.

4. What was the last thing that you ate? Ice Cream. With peanuts.

5. Can you drive a stick shift? Sorta ish.

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My da.

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Yes. Go internet soulmate.

8. How old are you today? Barely 20.

9. What is your Favourite sport to watch? Probs football. Or curling.

10. What is your Favourite drink? Gin and tonic.

11. Have you ever dyed your hair? No siree.

12. Favourite food? Indian or greek.

13. What is the last movie you watched? Little Big Man.

14. Favourite day of the year? There are lots.

15. How do you vent anger? I tear, and then try and hit things.

16. What was your Favourite toy as a child? I honestly don't remember.

17. What is your Favourite season? Harvest.

18. Cherries or Blueberries? Cherries. There was a caterpillar incident with blueberries.

19. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? If I send it to them. They have so many addresses, I can't keep track.

20. Who is the most likely to respond? All of them. They love these things.

21. Who is least likely to respond? Probably eve, cause she's without internet right now. (or is she?)

22. Living arrangements? With my family and later just my brother.

23. When was the last time you cried? Today - almost.

24. What are you doing right now? Trying to master photoshop.

25. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending to? The grade 3 ones.

26. What did you do last night? Stayed up way to late reading an ultimately unsatisfying webcomic.

27. What inspires you? very little.

28. What are you most afraid of? not succeeding.

29. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburger ? spicy chicken burger.

30. Favourite dog breed? The big, jowly kinds.

31. Favourite cat breed? The oriental types.

32. Favourite day of the week? What the hell kind of question is this?

33. How many countries have you lived in? Canada

34. What is the last book you read? Serenity bay. So Bad.

35. Favorite Flower? Lilacs.

36. Favourite time of day or night. evening when i have plans

37. Motor car you would most wish to own. Ooh, something vintage on the outside, new on the inside.

38. Favourite unhealthy treat. bagel.

39. Cell phone Ring tone. SOS, ABBA.

40. If you could afford to live anywhere in the world, where would it be. Somewhere canada-ish. or new england.

Indomitable Wit.

A litte story:
So for almost the past week, I've been filling out gaps in an ENORMOUS file of all the core descriptions for the past several years. What this is, basically, is a list in excel sorted by facies and assay (that is, what each part of the core is made of and how much of that is oilsand). Because there is so much information, I have about, oh, 400 core samples to edit, and each of those takes up 30-60 lines. The gaps I am filling are the facies, because sometimes they're missing, and without those the actual information I need isn't present. After I fill in the facies I can use the averages thereof to fill in the rest of the information, which is probably going to take another week or so. Alright, exposition almost half over, hang in there. To fill in the missing facies, I need to call up an actual adobe picture of the core description, which is like a giant graph thing, go to the appropriate point, and switch back and forth between the adobe and xls. files filling stuff in. Relatively straightforward. Only I have crap memory, so I remember the intervals and facies by muttering them under my breath several times (I'm sure to the chagrin of my co-workers) before dashing over to the excel and filling them in. For example:

"76.45 - EFCW, 76.45 - EFCW, 76.45 - EFCW, *switch*, 76.45 - EFCW."

There is one facies, however, that makes me slighty happier whenever I see it, and that is the Black Swamp.

"65.05 is BS. 65.05 is BS!"

Makes me grin inside each time.

Also, by the way, Tuesday was my birthday.

Shameful.

So the other day (at work, I'm baaaad) I read through pretty much the entire archive of my blog, and evidently I've changed quite a bit in 1 1/2 years, which doesn't seem possible but there you go. I use punctuation and capitalisation more, and am much more chipper. Unfortunately, I seem to have gotten less awesome in the ways of late night revelations. I have a few suspicions of why that is:

1. I am actually sleeping now, so my brain is less apt to fire out random observations as it sleep-starves.
2. I am also actually using my brain more in general, so perhaps it is less desperate to make things up to keep in shape.
3. I am much happier. Not sure what this has to do with intelligence, but it's a primary difference so it must contribute somehow. (I misspelled must and spellcheck offered SMUT. Grin.)

I plan to write another chapter of University Common. I still need to cast my new character and plot the sorority, which is kind of putting me off, but if the interest is there I can spin off a chapter no probs. And I'll attempt to make some sort of recap page too or, failing that, I can just make a word document that people can request.

There is some exciting news in my life right now. Things are coming together for me. My brother and I have a condo, which is actually a unit in a four plex condo complex dealy, so very house-like with lots of windows and new flooring and a basement and everything. Very exciting. We'll be moving in late august - anybody wanna help?
My mother has a line on a car. It's an 1988 Honda Civic, but it runs and is very cheap, so that is cool. Speaking of cars, I am also needing to actually get a license, so that will happen this month or early next.
My job is going well, even though it can be extraordinarily tedious. For instance, what I am doing now is scanning core descriptions for 2002-04. Very little fun involved in standing at a copier for 6 hrs a day. I have a team building event later this month, but my father has discovered he is unable to go, so I'll be all by myself, which I find rather terrifying. Good times.

And that is what is going on in my life.

Droopy Dim the Dummy.

So, in between work, and trying to cram in 12 hours of slacking off into the 5 hours I'm not working, I haven't been up to much. Or doing any planning for camping trips, etc. Sorry. Also,very little time for blogging. Sorry. And I have begun to notice that, 9 times out of 10, I blog when I am depressed and/or PMS!, which I suspect is a bummer. Again, apologies. And I'm doing it again. Augh, I vow to hence forth blog more so I seem like less of a whiny bi-otch.

The Daily 'Dote
You know how everyone has that one person they can't help but be an idiot around? It's like they're kryptonite to your brain. For me, that person is Paula's mom. It's horrible. Whenever I talk to her, I manage to forget English so she has to constantly repeat herself. Once, I telephoned Paula and due to some sort of misunderstanding, thought her mom was her and yammered at her for about 5 minutes until she was all "Uh, I'll go get...Paula...." The latest time I saw her was at P-bro's grad ceremony, and she turned around in her seat and was talking to me, and made a curious up-and-down gesture with her hand. As I was leaning forwards to talk to her, I thought she was talking about the pendulous edge of my shirt, and thus dragged it up rather obviously to hide my cleavage. Turns out she was asking if I'd gotten any taller. SO EMBARRASSING.

Speaking of which, I also sent an email at work to someone I thought was my father and turned out to be not (I hit reply instead of forward) and taken thusly in the wrong context and with the wrong recipient, probably made me sound like a rude, mentally handicapped jackass. So there's another person I have to avoid.

Yello!

So, does anyone want a free book? I just finished "Serenity Bay", bought for 2 dollars from a bargain bin, and I am never going to read it again. I mean, it was well written and all, and I'm sure there are a lot of people who like it and connect with it, but I really did not relate.

It's the story of a woman who marries a man who turns out to be abusive, and only leaves him after he starts to hurt their kids. She then becomes independent and such, which I approve of, but then he kidnaps their kids and here come my issues.

1. She didn't leave him the first time he hit her. This doesn't make me angry at her so much as at our society.
2. When she didn't immediately find her kids, she tries to kill herself. Because, in her own words, she is nothing without her kids. I think motherhood is great and all, but no person, IMHO, should ever be defined by another.
3. She found salvation in the Lord. Don't have a problem with religion, or the power of belief to get you through situations, but when the entire last quarter of a book is about Jesus and His power to heal His people, well, it just ain't my cup o tea, folks. I get it that some people deal with crisis through finding the Lord, but it didn't need to be quite so heavy handed. You can live without Him too, y'know. And the preponderance of capitalization, which I have just demonstrated - is that the standard? Somehow it grates me. Wow this is making me sound like a jerk.

To clear it up, this book is fiction and she gets her kids back. So, anybody want it? Free book? No?

Bitchin' about brothers.

So, I'm really tired and hormonal and cramping like a mo fo and my brothers want to play basketball with them, and I did say I'd try and learn to get better. So at the end of a long day at the end of a long week, I get to be reminded at how much I suck at everything my brothers value. And then L called me a bitch, or technically "to stop acting like a bitch", because he insisted there was a difference, and I left, and got the traditional "oh, there she goes, she never tries hard at anything" response, so I collected myself and went back out, only to go back in 2 minutes later; I said I was tired when P kept telling me to run faster, and L goes "oh, you're saying you work harder than dad?" Not what I meant, and I may have overreacted slighty with the "F-you" rejoinder, but I just don't know what to do.
They want me to be good at their sports, which I'm really not, and they seem amazed when I don't get better with their suggestions, so it is all my fault that I'm not improving. I'm not saying it's their fault, but it is certainly not because I'm not trying.
I get so fed up at times. They reprimand and tease me for any sort of traditionally girly behaviour, but at the same time I'm far too butch. I'm just their hideous, masculine embarrassment of a sister. An actual exchange from the other day:

Me: I'd like a motorcycle.
L+P: Oh god no.
L: That'd make you way butch.
L's friend: Yeah, only hot women look un-butch in leather.
L: You'd pull up on your bike, and be all 'wanna ride' and I'd be '.....only if I can drive...'

So yeah, really pissed off and hurt right now. So freaking what if your friends think I'm a big ol' lesbo dyke and that embarrasses you - Is what I'd like to be able to say. But I can't. They're my brothers, and I obviously care way too much about what they think.

This is how much of a nerd I am.

So, the other week I went upstairs, and there was a notice on the fridge from my landlords. It was as follows, and I quote:

The upstairs bathroom will be temporally out of use due to painting. Please cooperate in the use of the downstairs bathroom. We regret any inconvenience this may cause. Time is of the essence!

Isn't that awesome? Or did you not notice? There is an amusing typo in there. "Temporally." "1. Of, relating to, or limited by time." The geek in me is entertained, especially by the accidental additional hilarity of "Time is of the essence!"

I saw it, and nearly spewed some milk. I was all "oh, they must be taking the bathroom back in time so the paint dries sooner." I am a dweeb, I thought you knew.

Amazazing.

Today, I re-re-(re-?)discovered my old livejournal blog. It's lame, and I spend alot of the time referring to myself in 3rd person, but I did find my old bio, and I thought I'd share it with you here.

Name:	rabid_wulf
Location:	Millarville, Alberta, Canada
Bio:	Well howdy, interested reader. I am Wulf. I have written seven novels and have won the Nobel Peace Prize (under a different persona) for my work in suffrage movements in the early 1800's. I am extremely athletic and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. I also happen to be a world renowed authority on saliva, as I have lots of it to study. I really despise cruelty, especially to animals. However, I am not adverse to a spot of torture if the subject is a deserving president, say. I have not had an education, but have given several talks on Einstien's theory of relativity and a few of Descarte's philosophies. I have made a slight amendment to one, and you may quote me: "I sink, therefore I am." My number one goal is to become supreme dictator of the world. Anyway, that is about it. If you want an autograph, stick a wet orangepeel beneath your local mailbox and it will arrive in 30 years.
Interests:	2: classical music, fine literature

Wasn't I a charming child? Of course, if this blog ever gets lost in the sands of internet time, and I find it 20 years later, I'll be very mad at myself for being a pretentious idiot.

Heh.

Given that I am not generally persuaded to show extreme emotion, the other night's post is a little embarrassing in retrospect. I'm not taking it off, nor denying that it happened, because it did, but let's just not speak of it, shall we?

Screw you too, PMS.



It may be because I've been battling with the dreaded syndrome these past few days, and thus am exceedingly melodramatic, but the most amazing thing happened to me tonight.

I was being very depressed, and furious over the loss of my sunglasses, when I went out for a run. So I'm jogging along, and I look up at the stars, because it's a clear night and that's what I do. I locate the first 2 constellations I know, and then I'm looking for Orion. He's near the horizon tonight, and as I follow the stars that make him down, my eyes run into the lights of the city of Lethbridge. And then, here comes the strange part, I start hyperventilating and bawling. I have to lean against a fence. God, the scope! I'm looking at these tiny stars and the distance between them, it's incredible! I wish I could descirbe it to you, the end of the constellation dipping into the city lights, and I realise that the universe is huge. Beyond comprehension. And use, everything on this Earth, the rape, the killings, the hatred, the extinctions and pollutions and sex and babies, it's nothing. We are the tiniest things, completely insignificant, less than a flicker in time, and yet we are made of the dust from stars, and we get to be a part of this amazing and wonderful universe. We'll have lived and died without the nearest star being aware of our being.


I'm sorry if this makes no sense. I'm still crying.

Me being a slime.

Hah, for a second I thought that February came after March, and I was wondering how I'd managed to miss an entire month in posting. But then I got smart again.

Ok, so, Life of Ali:

Went to a real bar, and got drunk! Yay! And I'm not embarrasing when drunk! Yay! And apparently I'm not such a light weight. I thought I was. Here is what I drank: Rum+Coke, Shot, A triple Rum and Coke, and 2 vodkas with orange juice, within 3 hours. And I remember the entire night, and I was in control of everything I said, and my inhibitions were lowered very minimally! There was an idiot cowboy there who kept coming to our table to flirt with the girls, even though he was there with his girlfriend, and I managed not to yell drunkenly at him.
I should say at this point that I'm glad I don't have many friends, and the ones I do have can't afford to drink that often, cause it was really fun and the sort of thing I'd see myself falling into. But don't worry, peoples, I'm keeping an eye on myself.

And more recently, today I got my drama mark back, and (bragging commences) I was the only person in the class who got a grade in the A range! Go me.

These next few weeks are going to be excruciatingly boring, as I only have 2 tests left, and they're not for 2 weeks yet. Blurg. Someone should come visit me.

Grrrr.

Okay, so Nomad/Redcard's recent blog post led me to do some research on male pregnancy. Yes, my mind works in mysterious ways. And I found a site from a medical centre devoted to this guy's pregnancy. And I was SUPER EXCITED. But then, after some research (because I always back up my sources. Always. So important. Ahem.) I have discovered that it is a social experiment. I loathe social experiments. Why do people lie about these things? They fabricate realities about important, ground-breaking, life altering things, and they let people believe it! They don't have any sort of disclaimer or anything! This pregnancy one was sort of easy to see through, because they had a live online sonogram, and that is just ridiculous, but I believed for a second at first.

Why do people trick other people? IT'S NOT NICE TO LIE.

Disclaimer: I do realise that social experiments are much, much more effective when the subjects are not aware of it and thus unbiased and uncensored, but that doesn't mean I have to bloody like it. So, um, not being a sociologist.

That's the link. If you want to see the deceit for yourself.

http://www.malepregnancy.com/



UPDATE: Later, I clicked on another link on that page, which took me to Genochoice, another fake dealy (only this one very obviously so.) The premise is that here you can create a DNA profile of your future child by scanning your and your partner's (or just your own, for a clone) DNA, and be able to fix any defects. Oh, and you scan your thumb, via your COMPUTER MONITOR. I'm not going to go into the science, but anyone with even a rudimentary high school education knows that nothing in the process is possible. No creating individual DNA profiles, no cloning, and certainly no monitor thumb scanning. Ha, and the "expert" was one Dr. Preatner, a prenatal geneticist, and if you look closely you'll note that "Preatner" and "prenatal" have almost exactly the same letters. Tricky.
So I figure, what the hay ride, I'll scan my thumbs. It has 4 options for scanning: CLONE, HETERO, HOMO1 (for lesbians - you need a man, too. Because they can clone, but evidently not fertilize an egg with genetic material from another egg without some sperm. There's the sexism for you.) HOMO2 (for gay men, who do not need a female donor present.) So I click HOMO1, and I have a baby with myself. It "scans" my thumbs - even though I removed them halfway through the process, thinking "Lord, I have my thumbs on my computer screen. This is so dumb." Then, it asks me to make a user name and password to access my results. My user name: H. My password: H. My results come up, and under the category "Behavioural Defects", number 1 on the list, at a risk of 98%, is the "defect" of homosexuality. While I am staring at this somewhat incredulously, Dr. Preatner says, from the safety of a quicktime file, "Hmmm. Doesn't look so good, does it?" I'm kind of angry at this point. Plus, you'd think that 2 lesbian parents wouldn't feel that homosexuality is that much of a defect, and that it would actually maybe fall just this side of preferable, because then they could relate better to their child? Not hating straight kids, though. Just sayin. Oh, and on the bottom, it says "Don't let your children inherit your genetic shortcomings! Upgrade your [gene] profile now!" I was really pissed off. I did HOMO1 again (because even though I am angry, I'm still insufferably scientific) and got a different result, so evidently it's random, because my new child does not have a risk of homosexuality at all - which makes me even angrier. Not only do they call gayness a genetic defect, but it apparently isn't even genetic! (Because you'd think that any child of 2 gay parents has got to have a chance of inheriting teh gay, if indeed it is genetic.)

Then, of course, you have the phony payment page, where you choose what you would like to get rid of/change/add, all for EXTREMELY ridiculous prices. I'm not even going to go into it; I think I've taken enough internet space talking about this...this....RARRGH.

Oh, but if you want to see what is wrong with your baby and therefore you, have at it: www.genochoice.com

My hero is the Dalai Lama.

Registration

That's right, it's registration time for next fall. Sigh. registration always gets me so depressed. I get to be isolated from my almost-friends and I have to meet all new people, and that never goes well.

I am so damn lonely.

Fuck.

As I Went Down in the River to Pray

Alright, it is time for another of my introspective ramblings! Y'all excited?
This time, the subject is religion. Especially religious conversion and missionary work.

My question, or quandary, is people who believe that other people who do not share their religion are in need of saving. You know, those "come into the light, and ye will be saved from eternal suffering" types. In a strictly functional, objective way, I completely understand it - a religion ain't a religion unless there are a bunch of people who believe it, and the best way to get people to believe in something is promise them a better, more fulfilling life. I get it, religion and thus conversion fill a need. But what I truly don't comprehend is that some people really believe that if I'm not Christian, or whatever, my eternal soul (presuming I have one - not the point) is endangered.
What got me thinking about this subject was the following exchange, which I found in the comments of a YouTube video for the titled song.

wacko0500: I don't beleive [sic] in god, but i still love this song. :)

Enoch2: Lord Jesus Christ, please lead wacko0500 to Yourself. Show him your great love and power to save. Let Your will be done. Amen.

This Enoch2 person seems sincere to me, and in a later comment he cites some scripture to a similar effect.
I realise, of course, that all religions are different both between and within, depending on which denomination a person is and even the person him/herself, but I just don't get how someone can believe that simply because I do not share their ideas about the universe and the nature of being, that I am in grave danger. To be frank, it really kind of hurts my feelings. Am I any less worthy than someone else? Are my contributions that less valued? Just because I live my life following the way of peace and goodness and righteousness, but have different reasons for doing so, does that mean I do not deserve peace after I die? Just because I do not believe that Jesus was the son of god, just because I do not believe in a single creating entity? Just because I don't think that, even if there is a God (or Goddess), he/she has nothing better to do in His (or Her) realm of being than pay attention to who thinks he/she is real, and treat them accordingly?

I'm sorry, but if I believed in a God, it would be a God who didn't give a damn if I believed in it/him/her. I want to be judged by my actions, not what I believe to be true about the universe. And I don't want my actions judged by any scriptures, either. In the end, I, and the people I affect, are the ones who decide what the consequences are.

(I also believe that my actions will be judged through karma and samsara: the cycle of being in the universe, but not through any conscious, deliberate means, and that is separate from the issue at hand. Or at least I think so.)

Thoughts? Comments? Don't know what the flaming water stops on a biscuit I'm talking about?

Ruby Red Grapefruit

So this running thing? Actually starting to like it! I know, insane. A truly awful run on Tuesday made me almost give up, but then I thought "Ali, you are being dumb and quitting on this before you even give it a shot. Just like you always do when you think something is going to be hard. Suck it up, and put on your $15 running shoes, and get out there!" And I did and it was great. Go me.

Since I am evidently sticking to this running thing, I'm sure you'll be hearing more about it. I'll try not to be too boring, it's just so exciting!

The Daily 'Dote
I'd almost given up on Ovaltine after an incident when I decided it would be an acceptable whitener/sweetener in coffee. (Hint: It's really not.) Now I've decided I like it. It has 5 essential nutrients!

Ouchies.

So remember that list of resolutions I made? I have actually started one, and I'm even sticking to it. Ladies, I have taken up running. Crazy right? Me, doing cardio? I have decided that the optimal time to run is between 9 and 10 at night, because it is dark and not many people are out, so no one can see me wheezing and running like an ancient three-legged warthog, but people are still awake so I can knock on doors should an emergency arise. I think I should make it clear that I hate having to run (why can't I get fit sitting in a chair?) I hate preparing to run (2 bras - I should go shopping [TMI?]) and I hate the actual running, because I am convinced either one leg is shorter than the other or my body is disproportionately muscled, as my right leg always complains. The one thing I do like about running is not running after running. Feels sooo goooood.

The Daily 'Dote
On Monday I went to a free screening of To Kill a Mockingbird (which was pretty well done, the child actors were good) and on the way, as I was sitting on the bus, I overheard this aged, foreign bus driver talk about how people who refuse to drink think they're better than Jesus, because Jesus drank and it says in the Bible you're supposed to. He was very good natured about it, and I was impressed by his rhetoric. (I realise, of course, that there are many different versions of the Bible that I am not familiar with, and I don't think he was either, but still: very convincing.

Ah well.

Today was a full day. I got up rather late, and as a consequence did not have a shower, went to school, suffered through a very un-entertaining class, slept like a wee babe down in the depths of the fine arts building (I brought my sunglasses today, so I was wearing them with my jacket hiked up to my ears, slumped in my seat. If I'd worn a hood, I would have looked like the unibomber, napping.).

Then I had drama, in which we presented our monologues for the directing class that will be directing us in our last scenes, which went well. Then I went to the mall because I had booked an appointment to donate blood, long story short I can't! Which I was actually somewhat relieved about, because R-Girl was informing me of horror stories. Basically, because I was in a malaria risk area (Turkey) I am ineligible for a year. But I did get to have my hemoglobin tested, which was cool (I am not anemic!), but the puncture dealy hurt like a sonofabitch and I bled all over the lady's glove.

So THEN I went to the store where I got the previously discussed stuffed animal, and found a cheap mug with a duck motif. I really need to stop going there.


And while I'm sure that qualifies as The Daily 'Dote, here is another.

I went to a lecture on Race, Gender and Citizenship after 9/11 (which was as interesting as it sounds), ate way too many cookies, and met a charming octogenarian. He showed me the wonderous prairie view from the balcony (which I was already familiar with) and seemed to sincerely believe that all the world's problems would be solved by making all positions of power egalitarian in terms of gender. I am inclined to agree, but his basis for this assertion was "women are nurturers who instinctively seek out gentleness and kindness, and men are heartless destroying machines." I hesitate to paint the world with such broad strokes, but I try to avoid feverent debates with people on the cusp of senility. (It's true. He was a charming man, but he gave everybody in the room the same careful description of the magnificent prairie valleys.)

Well then.

So today, I learned that I did not get a part in a directing scene. Sad. Later today I was shopping for supplies for my monologue (my teacher suggested I put my hair up, which will be the first time in a decade) and I came across a stuffed animal in a discount bin. The store where I was shopping was one of those cheap stores that sell cheaply made copy-cat products. It's a fascinating stuffed animal, about 14 inches tall, grey, and it looks like a cross between snarf from Thundercats and an old-school Disney animation cat wearing sunglasses. It's interesting appearance, cheap price, and my need of cheering up all added up to me being richer one toy.

As I was searching the Internet for pictures of the toy that I could show you, I found out that it is a character from a book. The book is called Kittywimpuss Got Game, written by a fairly successful (at least by her website) animal knick-knack seller. I don't know why this seems more momentous than it is. Perhaps because I thought it was just a ridiculous, fair-ground, let's-stick-sunglasses-on-it-because-we-have-spare-fabric kind of toys, that to find out it was based on a character...

Sadly, the basketball was not included.

Strangers in the Night

So although my blogger dashboard says this is my 101st post, a careful count of my archives reveals that it's around 105, but some of those I am sure are accidental, completely blank posts and edited posts, because, as in the rest of my life, I'm clumsy on the Internet.

So I have a really slack week ahead of me, and as a result I have reached that stage in boredom where I am paralysed with it. I don't feel like doing anything, and nothing holds my interest. You cannot believe the effort it took to talk myself into getting out of bed. (My father says that if you are bored, you're boring, but I don't think he's felt this recently. In other news, I have an undying love for parenthesis.)

This week, too, was a relatively uneventful one. I did audition for directing scenes, so I am rather excited about that. (Although not many people showed up, and they have a grand total of 24 parts to fill, so if I don't hear back my poor ego might die.)

I have found a website on the Internets with all the Xena episodes from all the seasons with Spanish subtitles, so I've decided I will learn a language in a really passive way. I actually watched a Spanish PSA the other day, and I could understand a lot of it, so my plan is working! Mwahaha! (I am choosing to ignore the fact that my method will only teach me to understand Spanish, not speak it. OH WELL.)

Since my week was so utterly boring, I thought I'd share an anecdote as a precursor to the return of The Daily 'Dote. This happened last Sunday, when I was on the bus on the way back to Lethbridge. I got on the bus at the depot when it was already rather full, and I started walking towards the back looking for a non-suspicious person to sit next to. I always get paranoid when I enter a crowded bus because I fear I will make it all the way to the back without a good candidate seat, and of course you can't turn around when you're at the back, and so you might have to sit next to a scary/hideous person. Shut up, I'm shallow. So this paranoia caused me to take a seat only about a 3rd down the bus next to a kid who looked approximately 15. (This diagnosis was later confirmed when I saw him reading The Giver and The Golden Compass.) Behind me sat a woman of about 40 and her young (5?6? I suck at age guessing. He got stuck in the bathroom, anyway) son.

THUS BEGAN THE BUS RIDE FROM HELL!!!

I did what I normally do during bus rides: fished out my iPod, switched on the tunes, and dozed. Or at least I tried to. Every 20 minutes, the woman behind me had to get up to do something. And every single time, she touched me. It seemed accidental, but she was constantly brushing against my shoulder, or my hair, and one time she put her hand on my head. Every 20 minutes. For a 3 hour bus ride. And she never said anything! No apologies, nothing. Eventually I tired of this and gave up trying to sleep, and devoted most of my energy to trying not to yell rude things at her. Soon, I had to divide my restraint between her and the young man next to me. When he saw I was awake, He put away his book and ostensibly looked out the window, but he was constantly shooting glances at me. Little, darting glaces every 5 seconds or so. Very annoying. And every time I looked at him and caught him looking, he's quickly look away, and then shortly after press his leg against mine. At first I thought this was accidental, but after the 7th time it became clear. Over time, his courage built up and he'd leave his leg there instead of taking it away after a bit, so I was forced to move every instance. Then, for the last 45 minutes of the trip, the woman in the seat in front of me took out her sketchbook. Her seat was slightly reclined, and the man in front of my tormentor was not, so there was a gap that my seatmate stuck his head in. Like, all the way. I don't know why the woman didn't notice him staring at her sketching, because his head was practically against hers. This posture required him to lean over me, further reducing my space. He'd bob back and forth from sitting in his seat (and continuing to stare) and pressing his face in that crack for the duration of the ride. Not subtle bobbing, either. He'd slump loudly into his seat, jolting mine, and then lurch forward again. I hadn't had a proper bus nap, so I was doubly ready to kill him. I swear, it was the most homicidal for the longest amount of time I've ever felt.

Needless to say, I just about ran from the bus.

100th Post!

That's right, lovelies, this is the one hundredth post on this blog. I actually would have gone by birthdays, but I missed it. My blog turned one back in November, so this year I am celebrating milestones in posting instead. In honour of 100 posts of sharing, I though I might go through my blog and pick out some of the best. Then I thought some more, and decided that a) way too much work, and b) there aren't really enough to choose from, yet.

This blog has been with me through the good times and the bad, starting with my very first semester of University. It has helped my stay connected to those I care about, and has proved an able sounding board to my late-night ramblings and neurosis, and for that I am truly grateful. In honour of this momentous occasion, I invite you, dear reader, if you desire, to share with me your favourite memories of this blog. I also invite you to think of a name for her. Yes, my blog is a she. It seems a little weird to me to be so attached to something nebulous and impermanent, something that lives in the realm of the transient, fickle Internet, so I figure why not go whole hog, embrace the weirdness, and name the thing.

And in November, when she turns 2, I'll think of something better to mark the occasion.

Bloargh.

So as I am leaving for a bit more than a week tomorrow, I have some perishables to finish (as I am not taking them on the bus. Not all of them, anyway.)
List:
3 apples
3 bananas
2 huge grapefruits
1/2 large tub cottage cheese
4 containers yogurt (vanilla and prune [prune yogurt makes my day])
1/3 of a 2 litre milk carton
1/3 loaf bread
1 1/2 bags of salad
1/2 slab halva (although it'll probably keep)
1/2 bag baby carrots

That'll be fun to try and eat in under 20 hrs, 9 of which I'll be sleeping. Plus I already ate a box of truffles. (It's Valentines Day and I'm single, I'm entitled to be a pig. Don't know what my excuse is for the rest of the year.)

Plus I have craploads to do.
List:
Laundry
Eat
Clean room (including garbage and dishes on the floor. I am a slop.[Yes, slop.])
Pack
Study for midterm
Midterm
Eat
Sleep
Shower
Leave
Eat
Type up notes for C-Note, which I JUST remembered to do, dammit.
Pay ridiculousy high visa bill.
Try not to kill someone because of cramping-induced homocidal tendencies. It's a pain transference thing.
Eat

Not nessecarily in that order.

And yet I have time to blog. Masterful.

(Oh! I saw Into the Woods yesterday. Which was 3 hours long and thus took up valuable eating time, but still worth it.)

(And the blogger spell checker thing isn't working, so typos are totally not my fault. Well, they are, but that they aren't fixed isn't. I could copy-paste this into word. But I won't.)

That's not really what you mean.

One of my biggest pet peeves is people, especially women, saying they're not feminist. I want to aks them : "Oh, you mean you don't think women should be paid the same as men? You mean you don't think women should be able to walk the streets at night and be able to feel safe? You mean you don't want women to have access to all sectors of society?"

AUGH. People should say "I'm not a radical feminist." Then I'd go "Oh. Me neither."

Mind Fffffff-rolic.

I was waiting in line at the convenience store on campus today because I wanted to buy an "Aloe Beverage". (I just wanted to try it, and it had chunks of aloe in it, and it tasted very sweet, and reminscent of something I cannot quite recall, but not the point of the story, I digress.) And next to me in line was a candy rack, and on it were bags of corn nuts. I've enjoyed corn nuts since they were invented, not half due to that marvelous commercial with the pencil chewing boy, but something had always struck me as just a little..off about them. And today, I realised what it was. Corn nuts look like decomposing teeth. Honestly.

And I do hope that my weeding through countless pictures of people's disgusting mouths in order to find a good example is appreciated.

I've never claimed to be a sensible person.

Speaking of being sensible, I just spend rather a bit of time on youtube, which is a frequent destination, and this time I have been watching EastEnders, which is a delightful British soap opera. The episode I watched was most interesting. See, there's this teenaged girl, Zoe, (played by Michelle Ryan, but younger [even though she's only 4 years older than I am and she played the Bionic Woman. Bad show, but still.]) and she's convinced that trundling off to Spain with her dear old uncle would be just the ticket. Her sister, Kat, vehemently objects. They run into the street and have a rather loud row, in the heat of which this exchange happens:

Zoe: You're not my MUTHA!

Kat: Yes I AM!

Zoe, and the audience, are stunned. What a delicious turn of events! They run off into their house and continue their discussion, Kat being reluctant to discuss it and Zoe being a teenager. Oops, I mean emotionally confused (not that I can really blame her). Apparently, Kat was sexually abused by an as-yet-unknown party and got pregnant at 13. There follows an arguement, with Zoe all "My whole life's been a lie, you liar, didn't you want me, etcetc." and Kat being all "I was freaking 13." So Zoe was raised as Kat's sister even though this whole time Kat really wanted to be her mother but couldn't because of her mother and father. Zoe wants to know who her father is, Kat insists she forgets. So that's all settled, and then Zoe says something about how splendid it is that she's going to Spain, as there she'll have time to sort this all out. Kat, who had forgotten about this, promptly forbids it. Zoe wants to know what the big deal is, and then Kat diverges from the topic, and begins to tell Zoe about how her father wanted to know who Zoe's father was too, but she couldn't tell him, because HE IS HIS BROTHER. That's right, ladies and gents, the dear old uncle who wants to take young Zoe to Spain is actually her great uncle/father/rapist bastard.

Long story short, watching that episode made me want a baby. How sick am I?

Hazy Shade of Winter - My Semester Resolutions

Yesterday at 3 AM after reading probably 10 pages of quotes, I made some resolutions. I decided, yet again, that the only way to affect change in my life is to change my life, and I intend to do so. Of course, as we all know, resolutions are much easier to adhere to very late at night, so in the interest of follow through, I though I'd put them up here and so be accountable to the internet. In no particular order:

- no more chocolate
- more fruits and vegetables
- go for a run every morning
- by the end of the semester, be able to do at least 20 pushups and at least 35 situps concurrently
- limit myself to 2 hours of extra-curricular internet time a day
- use my free time to draw and write (and maybe even socialise)
- spend at least 2 hours a day on directly course related work
- keep regular hours
- start and actually finish a cleanse

And that is it. Starting tomorrow, we'll see how it goes.

Remember: If you can't be funny, be funny looking.

I have decided not to attempt suicide, nor to cultivate an addiction to any sort of mind altering substance, which means I'll never get anywhere as a writer. Tis a shame, as I would rather have liked to try. Perhaps I will give it a go anyway.

In other scintillating news, I can wiggle my ear. The left one, to be exact.

Goodnight.

Blarg.

So as I went to school on monday, I encountered giant patches of ice covering the street in front of my bus stop. Some water line broke and the sewers backed up, so there was frozen sludge everywhere. And they're tearing up the street, so I couldn't get to my bus stop, so I had to go to the farther one and was thus late. And then I got two midterms back, and did alright on one and pretty crap on the other.

And then today I had a midterm, and my incredible studying skills meant I did it on 2 hours of sleep and it was harder than I expected. And then I admired the poster sale again, but completely forgot about buying the poster I wanted to buy:

Which is alright I guess, seeing as I have nowhere to put it (and I fear my mother being all "You bought this? For yourself?" and me being "I...like Pink Floyd..."). Still, if you peeps could keep an eye out for it so I can buy it somewhere else sometime. Oh, and then, even though the weather has been warmer (hallelujah), it is still windy, so all the slightly melted snow has been blown around collecting the grime from the gravel, so everything is coated in a delicious layer of brownish-grey.

In conclusion: bad week so far.

P.S. And then I had a nap which involved a dream where my anthropology prof was in a wheelchair for some of the time and we were BFFs. Which was really kind of strange and disconcerting, as we got up to mischief and then went on a cross-country bus/lecture tour.

Alas!

As I was typing the title, I got a picture in my head of a old man, who seemed to be a cartoon, saying "Alas" or "Alack" or both, but I cannot remember where he's from. Bonus points for whoever can.

So I haven't posted for over a week, and I would feel a little bad about that, but I don't really have anything to say at all. Twas a VERY uneventful week. Also a very very cold one. I think mother nature is holding her own against global warming so far.

This weekend, I've been watching Torchwood (the new season).

****SPOILER ALERT****

It is really quite tragic how everyone Tosh loves dies. They should really stop doing that to her. First her alien girlfriend gets sent to the centre of the sun, and then her WWI era boytoy dies by firing squad. Lordy lordy. But Ianto and Jack is the cutest thing ever. (I like how only Kes and Jo will know what I'm talking about. OH WELL.)

****SPOILER OVER****

I have also been watching a horrendous show called Cleopatra 2525. It is truly hilarious. It has Gina Torres, who I normally like, but on this show she spends 97% of the time with her eyeballs bulging out of her head. The only reason I've been watching it because it is so corny. (Okay, and because it's by Raimi and Tapert, the men behind Xena, which is another ridiculous show that I was obsessed with.) Ok, I admit it, also because of Victoria Pratt and her hynotising abdominals. Seriously, they are magic and unreal:

I am choosing to ignore the fact that evidently she's the kind of woman who wears camisoles to premiers. In any case, it's a highly amusing (and highly feminist, barring the skimpy outfits) show, and most if not all of the episodes are on youtube. If you're bored.

So that was a super boring post, which really just proves my point - I have nothing to say.

Introspectivity

So yesterday, in a blur of manic energy brought on by less than 3 hours of sleep, I whipped up a couple of melodramatic blog posts. The last one is rather embarassing, but I've decided to leave it. A blog is an online journal, meant to record events as they happen, so it's staying for integrity's sake. It's all true, of course, just keep in mind I'm not nearly as affected by last year as I made out in that post. I consider it a minor lapse in my determination to make lemonade. (But I'm still pretty serious about the Buddhism.)(And anthropology is still interesting, but I don't think it would have done me much good had I not already have the mindset and potential nessecary. Knowledge from the world without the potential wisdom to use it from within is like using a hammer without an anvil. Finding something I enjoyed doing helped just as much as what I was learning from the doing, if not more.)

Hope you are well.

Wednesday Night, 6:50 PM

When you reach that University-going age, the adults in your life feel obliged to tell you all about it. Not necessarily specific experiences, but how they wish they'd gone, or how they did go and it changed their life, and altered their reality forever, was the best time of their life, etc.

And for the longest time, even after I started University, I had NO IDEA what they were talking about. University was just a repeat of everything else I'd done in my life - school, money, laundry, interpersonal interaction (or lack thereof), only more so and without anything remotely resembling a support system. I'd think to myself "Is this it? Seriously? The fantastic experience every one's told me about? It sucks! I don't know if I can even take more of this. This enlightening thing better happen soon, because I am falling apart." I pondered ways of ending it. I didn't make a plan or anything, so it didn't seem serious at the time. Now that I'm in a healthier state of mind (and I am), I realise that any thought like that is serious, although I don't think I would have done it. I've always been a rather happy, content person, so it just didn't seem real to me. I'm me! I'm not THAT unhappy. I'm not that girl.

Well, I was. And then I took my first anthropology class. I didn't realise it then, but anthropology probably saved my sanity, or at least played a big role in its recovery. It struck a chord within me, and I began seeing even more sides of life (though I've always tried to see as many sides of an issue as possible.) Everything I looked at, I took apart in my mind. I took nothing for granted. I realised how absolutely blind I had been. My new found ability to analyse things was key when I directed my focus on myself. I realised that nothing in life is certain. I didn't have to be unhappy if I didn't want to. There are infinite possibilities, infinite time. So I took another anthropology class, and it kept happening; I kept gaining perspective. Eventually, I rediscovered Buddhism. I've always been fascinated by it, but now I started learned more about it. I've decided it's a mindset I will do my best to cultivate. The idea that I am just a tiny part of an infinite whole doesn't scare me, it comforts me. The universal principles around which the doctrine is based resonate with me, as do the "commandments", if you will. I won't get into the specifics now - I don't know everything I want to know yet, but if the interest is there I will expound on the issue later.

That hesitation of mine to discuss things that I have not learned about fully is one I have always had, but it is definitely more common now, again because of anthropology. In most cases, I consider this to be a very good thing. There is too much ignorance in the world without my jumping into things headfirst, without all the facts. But there is one area in which is really kind of sucks, because until I have all the information, I have to suffer.

(I live in fear of my mother reading this blog, because she did find it once. But for once in my life, I am going to proceed anyway. That said, mom, if you are reading this, please stop. I know the whole internet thing voids the privacy thing in theory, but please. P.S. I'm not pregnant.)









I think that all the people who are still reading this lengthy stream-of-consciousness will know what I am talking about by now. God, I can't even type it. Well, guess. I know you can. The thing is, I can't tell other people, admit it to the world, not because I am ashamed, but because I don't even know if I am capable of a relationship involving... aspects of physical intimacy beyond friendship. (Romantic or emotional intimacy - I can do those.) And that is all I am going to say, or I will be venturing into Sex and the City territory and to be frank, that show made me squeamish. Suffice it to say certain things cannot be said to my family and/or complete strangers without the successful completion of field trials that lead to a conclusive resolution.

I hope my catharsis wasn't too boring/shocking.

I just found out Heath Ledger died yesterday.

I'm reeling; I liked and respected the guy.

The strange thing is how much it shocks me. I didn't know him personally, I didn't know his demons. People die everyday, and I don't know them either, but somehow it doesn't affect me the same way. Such is the nature of celebrity - a small percentage of people who carry the admiration and values of millions. They are our role models and moral compasses - they are not supposed to die, be sick or angry. They aren't supposed to have drug problems, emotional problems, mental problems, problems with the law. They are supposed to embody the perfection that the Western world blindly, desperately believes in. It's okay if we don't live up to our full potential, it's okay that we don't have the perfect life, because someone does. So when a person I look up to, respect, and admire dies, so does some of my reality. I don't know what the real world is. I don't believe anybody does. Who knows, it might be glorious and peaceful, if people truly have unlimited potential. But what if they don't? What if the greed and ignorance that consumes us is it? What if the world is a horrible place, where even the most revered among us cannot attain the dream?

So I don't want to know the truth of human existence. At least not yet. I'm terrified to find out, and that is a reason I mourn Heath Ledger.

Imagination

My toe has been acting up today. The baby one on my right foot. It is all painful, and seems swollen. Maybe I stubbed it?
I was pondering on my toe when I thought to myself: what if it is cancer? Or necrotizing fasciitis? Then it'll have to be amputated! And I thought that the loss of a baby toe was a loss I could live with. What body part do you think would be the least traumatizing to lose?

In other My Creepy Body news, my intestine seems to be strangling my uterus. I think I'm with my intestine on this. That uterus can really be an obnoxious bitch sometimes.


MONDAY TOE UPDATE:
(Not that I think anyone really cares about the state of my toe.)

It has ballooned up. It looks like a little cocktail sausage. A very painful, hot sausage. My current theories are now gout, arthritis, or aggravation by my shoes compounded by the fact that I think I broke it a while ago, and also compounded by the fact that I keep stubbing it, which hurts like a mofo let me tell you.

Yay for Goals

So instead of going to bed so I can get up and not die in class tomorrow, I was perusing the Internet. More specifically, I was looking at the Mountview Academy site. And I was thinking to myself: "This seems awesome. Why am I not super excited? I wish it focused more on movies. Is there such a thing as a film school? My god, there is, isn't there?" So the next hour was spent perusing film school sites. GUESS WHAT. I have a goal in life now! My goal is to finish my social science degree here, and then go to the Vancouver Film school! (Or the Toronto or the Victoria School, but those are second choices.) I will take their 4 month intro to acting course, and then hopefully get invited to their acting program, and maybe also take programs in writing for TV and make up/prosthetics for the film industry! Yay for over educated! And I like that all their courses appear to be 12 month dealies. My only concern in money. YOWZA. Each year tuition is, oh, the cost of a small car. So I guess I shall be working all summer, and part time in the school year, because I do not like debt, but I really wanna go. So hooray for a future. Of course, I could be almost 26 by the time I'm done... I forgot my point. That is not old at all! LIFE PLAN! FILM SCHOOL!

P.S. Comment! And tell me a) that I'm an idiot, or b) I'm not really a totally unrealistic loser?

Terrible Day

Today sucked.

1. It snowed, and I got my blue shoes dirty.
2. My back/upper neck hurts.
3. I scuffed my brand new extra fancy leather gloves that I got for Christmas.
4. My scene partner forgot her script.
5. I messed up my knitting a bit.
6. I'm all crampy.

Instead of dealing with this mediocre day like a rational adult, I feel like a little kid in grade 2 who's just had the worst day of her life.

2nd Full Week of School/Spreading of Anger (Not Very Buddhist of Me, Sorry.)

I've been listening constantly to the Simon and Garfunkel compilation I got for Christmas. I relate to it really well. It's almost like there's a synergy (sorry, I hate that word too). But really, they manage to say everything I want to and convey all I feel, but better and to a tune.

As the title of this post says, I'm going into my second full week classes. Things are going... Not nearly as well as last semester. Only one of my acquaintances from last term is in a class with me. Also, in acting, my scene partner for our first scene can't act. She is only in the class because it's a requirement, not because she has any drama aspirations. And I do admit that mine are more wishful thinking than actually goals, but I'd like them to be goals someday. And this may sound egotistical, but I can act a lot better than her. And she exhibits one of my pet peeves: when reading aloud, she constantly messes up words. Not a little, a little is fine. Like one or two words a sentence are wrong, so her lines make no sense when she is reading them. She did get better as we went though, so hopefully she'll fix all her mistakes soon. I really don't want to correct her, as that would be basically telling her she can't read. Ugh. Maybe I'm being uncharitable, but I'm full of PMS right now, and I believe that excuses me almost anything. My character swears a bit, so I shall release my secret tension that way.

My other classes look pretty manageable. One of my anthropology classes (not the one with the professor I'm stalking) has 3 tests, and all of them are in-class essays, which are one of my least favourite methods of evaluation, so I'm slightly concerned about that, but I'll meet with her at some point and I'm sure that will help assuage my fears.

In my sociology class (Deviance, Conformity and Social Control) we watched a movie last class called Ballot Measure Nine, which was that story of a bill they tried to pass in Oregon in 1992. Basically it was an amendment to the constitution that would allow discrimination based on sexual orientation in areas such as employment and housing. The exact text of the amendment proposed was "All governments in Oregon may not use their monies or properties to promote, encourage or facilitate homosexuality, pedophilia, sadism, or masochism. All levels of government, including public education systems, must assist in setting a standard for Oregon's youth which recognizes that these behaviors are abnormal, wrong, unnatural and perverse and they are to be discouraged and avoided." (To be clear, I agree that pedophilia is unacceptable, as are sadism and masochism when taken beyond a boundary.) The "Yes on 9" group was run by the Oregon Citizens Alliance, and they used the most homophobic, manipulative hate tactics I have ever heard of to try and get this thing voted in. Their campaign slogan was "No Special Rights", which is simply evil genius, as what they were fighting against was equal rights. And they used discredited studies as evidence, like saying all homosexuals are also pedophiles, and all homosexuals engage in some sort of coprophilia. It made me sick.
I guess I just wanted to pass around some rage. I'm not going to get into the whole freedom of religion thing right now, nor am I going to discuss the issue of homosexuality in a class on deviance. Because that would take forever, and I think I've ranted enough for one post. Later, I'll rant. If people are interested. If they aren't, I shall write angry essays offline.

So I'm feeling a little disconnected, unmotivated, lonely and lackluster right now. I do hope It doesn't devolve any further, as I really don't want to repeat last year's pit of despair experience. My at-home, 100% organic remedy is blogging! This way, I can communicate with a world beyond my bedroom, and connect to my friends, and fend off isolation. I'll try to do it at least twice a week. As always, comments are lovely lovely crack.

I also may email you homies at one point, but first you need to email me at my hotmail with your preferred contact address, or I won't. I'm sorry, but I don't want to send mass emails to people who won't actually read them because they are rotting in a forgotten account.