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.