And so it goes...

...that I would listen to a guitar and feel. That I would reminisce and be aware of life, and time, and how much things have changed. How much is still the same. My mild discomfort, my curiosity, my shame. The chords, the words, my heart.

I don't know what I am doing here. In trying to explain it I lost myself, lost my words, and realized I didn't know. I still don't. I tried to find some way of coming to terms with everything, and was left with dry eyes and red wine.

I want to cry out. I knew what the matter was, fleeting so now it is gone. That somewhere I feel disconnected. That somewhere I feel demeaned and let down, rejected and hurt. Somewhere I seek solace in empty arms. Sometimes all my heart does is sing.

That I know who I am, and what I am. That I know who is wrong and who is right. That as much as I rage, I am comfortable here, and as much as I cry I know the truth. This is good, and right. No matter what happens, tomorrow is a goodbye forever. That maybe all of this is because I don't know how to say that, that I am afraid of endings.

Such is life, such is an ending. At least I have arms to come home to. They are my own.

Train day

Its a beautiful day out, too bad I can't enjoy it here, since I'm heading off to the 'poo in a few hours. Huzzah for trips! All the more recent insanity will certainly be diminished somehow by a small town.

Roomie apparently doesn't like being ignored in bars, as he spent an hour initiating msn conversations with me last night and hinting that he was getting laid while assuring me that none of the girls he mentioned were servicing him sexually. Such a strange guy.

I feel like I've entered some sort of zone... ("its like that twilighty show about that zone") except that nothing has really changed. I am looking forward to this trip immensely, and I'll try to update while I'm there. Otherwise, check back for an action-packed first week back.

(in a campy announcer voice) Care returns to Beer Pong to reclaim her title: will she succeed? Or will she get drunk and hit on by Buddy once more? More 80s-related shenanigans at J-Room! Will Curly live up to his promise of being a real funny stoner? Will Care get her Oxford admission letter in the mail? Will there be any academic conditions? All this, and more, NEXT WEEK! Tune it, and find out.

Some semi-disaster

Seeing the ex at a bar = bad
Seeing the ex at my bar with a girl = disaster

At least I was with someone who managed to keep my mind off it! And I was way hotter than her (this was confirmed by my company, so I'm not just deluding myself)... as Ray said, "at least he has traded down." I know this to be true: I'm not upset as much as I'm kinda disappointed that I can't have sex with him if he is dating someone else! That and the age-old conundrum of liking someone merely because they don't like you... here's to hoping I get Curly hopped up enough on goofballs next week to put out... or that I finally give in to Buddy's prodding. Its not that I don't have options, its that the options which present themselves are too easy. The grass is always greener, and such.

The impressionable were not so impressionable today, but it was all good, as I said, as long as I can get through to one kid, its all worth it. Frustrating as teaching is, there's something very satisfying about it. Not enough to make me do it though... its the academia or nothing.

Rockin' out to the 80s, I think I'll make myself some food (not counting the brownies I ate for dinner), and settle in. Tomorrow for baking and packing!! I can't wait!

Contented Sigh... aaaaaah

I have been swaggering around town in a garish new hat, seeming to say, "Look at me, Rex Banner! I have a new hat!" Wait... that's not me... that's Homer.

Saw Inside Deep Throat last night. Brief review for the movie-going public: Its pretty decent, maybe not worth a full $10 admission, but worth the price on Tuesdays (or for students at Cinema du Parc). A bit over-dramatic, nonetheless it touches on some very interesting notions. My favourite was not really elaborated on, I'd like to see an entire documentary around it: the vcr has destroyed porn. Indeed, I agree it has. Now, I'm off to rent Deep Throat, all those clips made me really want to see it. Maybe see Deep Throat first, then this movie. I guess Lovelace's talent is amazing, but I think most girls could manage it with a little practice ;)

Have spent the last three days trying to let Oxford sink in. The good news? It hasn't. I am dying to get my proper letter so I can tack it up on my wall. With the Oxford crest and everything. I can't believe that I'm going to be studying there! It has been hard for me not to talk about it non-stop with people: people who have, to varying degrees, been happy for me. I am really proud of myself and it feels really great to have others validate it. Maybe that is self-absorbed, but this is one point in my life where, for the first time, I feel it is my right to be self-absorbed. Its Oxford! Its a good thing I have a nice variety of friends so I can spread it out a little bit.

As for the rest of my life, reading week kicked off with nothing more than an 80s dance-party in my apartment and a night in with my friend Mary Jane. It was hedon-a-licious. The rest promises to be much more interesting, teaching tomorrow, baking and volunteering on Tuesday, then I'm off to the 'poo for some debauchery. Its gonna be sweet.

Reading weeeeek!

So passes the week of insanity, capped by the most insane thing ever happening just yesterday. As I said to Danno, who is heading out to the LSE next year, it feels like I have always been going, it every time it occurs to me its like "holy shit, what are they thinking?!"

Had celebratory beer with Curly last night, wrote my last damn midterm today and scampered home. I wish it wasn't cold and blowing snow right now because I'd love to go shopping or go get chocolate but am not willing to put up with the snow. I am debating just staying home tonight, venturing out far enough to rent movies.

There is no sanity level for this

I GOT IN TO OXFORD.

Its pretty un-fucking-believable... frankly I don't know what they are thinking. I wrote my application letter the night before I mailed it... and it sucked! I mean... do they know who I am? I can't even study properly, I can't go to Oxford, this is the most insane thing that has ever happened. My grades aren't even that amazing. I mean what are they thinking?!!

Okay, I'll admit that I cried on the phone with people. And yes, I have called almost everyone I know. Frankly I'm impressed that I have held myself together enough to eat and shower.

I have an exam in an hour. I must read my notes and pretend that the oldest and most respected English-speaking university in the world didn't just admit me to a masters program. Me! Masters! An MSc no less! Take that North American university system!

"Whoo hoo! I'm a college man! I won't need my high school diploma anymore! I am so smart, I am so smart, s-m-r-t, s-m-r-t, I mean s-m-a-r-t."

I am going to Waterloo next week, so I will be able to thank one of my references in person for the letter, since I'm sure that's what clinched things for me. This weekend I will write letters to my other two professors. An Harpo, I have to tell Harpo. I can't wait to see him, I can't wait to go, I am so excited I could... christ I don't even know, but writing an exam is not a good option for me right now.

Okay, must read notes, Oxford does not admit students who fail their midterms.

Sanity Level - Fudge

Hmmm lets see: I came home, felt ill, and suddenly its midnight. How do I let this happen? Numoy would call me a slut. In fact, she already has, several times.

I have accomplished some things though! Like putting together a lifetime first legitimate set-up (t-minus two weeks, I feel so devious!) and talking on the phone to Curly for over an hour. In a panic after hanging up the phone I realized that not only are we actually the same person (both of us hating to sleep when we knew people in the house were still awake clinched it for me), but that my crush has deepened. Its bad enough that Numoy ceaselessly makes fun of me for it (having never met him, I don't know what she is on about - said in my mock sarcastic voice), but now I might really like the guy. Its that damn habit of wanting what I can't have. Ah well, there's always 'going out of business sex' right?

In other news... came to the realization that I am numb regarding the ol' ex. It was pretty remarkable. Seeing him and just thinking 'meh'. I was giddily pleased, and laughed. In my empty apartment my solitary laughter sounds strange and lonely.

Sanity Level - Coloured Cream... Green

Definitely Green. Well, its nice to have marks back, and for writing a midterm drunk I figure its a good grade. The whole 'multiple midterm' business threw me and now I'm better prepared for the next one.

Still feel mildly wretched, I am debating bailing on Thursday's night out, not because I am a failure (so Noel, don't you dare suggest it), but because I don't know if I can handle an entire night with those drunk girls. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but after being mildly enraged after an hour, I think several might be pushing it... Especially since they will only get worse as they drink. I shouldn't be pluralizing, it was one more than the other. Should a better option arise I will take it, but Numoy and I might have a study date. I seem to have a fuzzy recollection of Buddy suggesting some Thursday night shenanigans, but I think it involved a competition... his dad being in town... and... judging it. I think I politely (read: drunkenly) declined.

On the bright side I am thrilled to be getting my hair tidied up tomorrow, having promised a fair number of people, mostly men, that I will not cut it all off. It is currently a snarly, alcohol-induced-sleep-knotty mess, and I am so excited for my head massage.

Oh yeah! And I ran into Roomie today in one of those odd twists of fate that makes me wonder if such things really do exist. I left work early, ostensibly to study for my exam tomorrow, but in reality because I felt so wretched that I had to crawl home and die slowly while drinking tea and watching the Simpsons. I ran into Jeanie on my way through campus, and paused to rehash our evenings. Just as she is bidding me adieu, I catch Roomie walking up. Weird. So we walked and talked on his way to class, with the usual male-ego-induced conversation (blah blah blah, I am the centre of the universe, God forbid that anything goes on in your life that I might want to ask about) followed by an awkward, "Good to see you," on his part. That line has never stuck well with me, I feel like its fake no matter how sincere it sounds. But it was sincere, the tone was kind, and you know, it was good to see him. Just one of those little random things that makes days interesting!

Sanity Level - Golden

Oh man. Well now that my head has stopped trying to jump off and roll away... I can try to come together with a recap of last night. It ended with me finding five dollars. I'd like to preface this journey into my memory with a quote from Homer (Simpson that is), "Well of course, everything looks bad if you remember it!"

After meeting with some girls from Vancouver for 'drinks' (from which I abstained), I went for a walk because it was still too early to meet everyone at the bar. The girls reminded me of why I need to get some new friends at home, not in a bad way, but just in the 'wow, you guys aren't like me at all' way. So I went to Pharmaprix and bought a Creme Egg (mmmm, easter), and ate it in the park. At this point I had twenty dollars. This is important in terms of doing the 'beer tally', because when you're drinking pitchers its way harder to determine.

The conversation pre-pong was slightly awkward, but started to chug along nicely when Christa and I discovered a shared love for Futurama. "I'm going to a movie with friends!" and "Whoah! My hands are like... huge! And they can touch everything but themselves!" We went through three pitchers among five of us. Played some fooseball, which I really suck at, before noticing that boys bearing ping pong balls had arrived. I scored some balls. In the non-sexual sense.

Apparently I am a beer-pong idiot-savant... or at least drunk-savant. We killed the first game and only lost the second by one cup. This is where things start to get a little fuzzy. At a pitcher per side per game, things got a little fuzzy pretty quickly after the game. I recall some really inappropriate conversations about circumcision as it relates to sex, one which my 'new best friend' (as he referred to me after our beer pong victory) was very emphatic about. My favourite part of the conversation? His 'worst pick-up line ever' story. Graphic language warning, but he's right, it is the worst. "I'll let you suck my cock, and then I'll fuck you in the ass." Yeah, right. Who would go for that?! Oh, Oh, Noooooo (picture me doing the thumbs-up, thumbs-down thing).

I wandered off to chat to familiar faces, and delivered our pong accoutrements to some friends looking to start a game. I was loving everyone, it was time to sit down.

After everyone but me left (damn kids, living far away), I spent the next hour talking to Buddy, and telling him how I should be getting home. At about 2:30 he pointed out to me that it had been an hour and I still hadn't gone home, so I left. Its a fine line with him, we agreed to work a shift together next month, and his hug lingered a bit too long (then again, he may have thought I needed propping up), followed by an offer to walk me home, "All flirtation aside," (again, maybe he didn't think I could get there safely). He's a great guy.

Its time for me to drag my ass down to class in the blizzard. As I said to Noel this morning, "There are two kinds of hangovers, the body hangover and the head hangover." The nice thing about the latter is that you want to die, but it passes. Mine has passed, and I've got to run!

Sanity Level - Mint'n'Cream

Oooh ooh ooh, who's a machine? That's right, its me. Two midterms, broken by attending a wine-n-cheese. Mmmm, free. I decided after five minutes of reading my notes that my hour-long break would not be effectively used reviewing. So I wandered on over to the Arts Building, knowing that John was effectively running a wine and cheese fantastique. Indeed, I walked in, blinked, and heard a voice. "Hey Caroline! Red or white?!" Haha! As Ian said towards the end of the shindig, that is the right kind of friend! Two and a half glasses of cheap wine and a whole lotta cheese later, I wandered down to my midterm feeling buzzed. Whoo.

Eighty-one questions later I'm home, waiting for my clock to roll over then its off for drinks and later, beer-pong! Huzzah! The week of insanity continues, lovely and amazing.

Sanity Level - UhOh Oreos!

I have lost my fake lip ring. For some reason this bothers me far more than my impending doom. At least I have a plan for slowly poisoning myself tonight. My girlfriend is in town from home and I think she thinks that Montreal makes me crazy. Its not that, its more like... well... that currently I happen to be mildly off-balance and coincidentally in Montreal.

I think at this point all I have in my hand is a Simpsons quote.

"All right brain, you don't like me, and I don't like you. But let's just get me through this, and I can get back to killing you with beer."

Sanity Level - Chocolate

I feel good, good, caffeinated by now and good. I did hit the snooze button a fair bit this morning ("Snooze... need more snooze..."), but Jo rang me from work and jolted me out of bed. Over the course of our conversation I realized how much more I knew about chemistry than I thought I did. This was amazing news.

So I'm not really worried anymore. Noel threatened last night to change my sanity level to crumbled up cookie bits, but I'm okay, I'm good.

He is an AGENT OF CHAOS, however, so I must dutifully spread that chaos.

Sanity Level - Peanut Butter and Chocolate

I just transcended a sanity-level, just this instant. It was great. I was sitting quietly at my table, reading over my chemistry notes. Then I caught upon the word 'lipitor'. Before I could even read a definition, my mind and body reacted: "Lipitor" I growled, making it sound like the name of a monster from a kids tv series or comic book. "Lipitor!" And I moved my arms up and down, robotic, showing my invisible audience how Lipitor would stalk its victims.

Just telling myself that in twenty-four hours I will be drunk.

Sanity Level - Coffee'n'Cream

So... as it goes I haven't really accomplished much. I am officially the worst studier ever. EVER. I am filling out forms for summer programs and talking to people online, reading Dinosaur Comics and listening to Soundgarden. This is not helping me get good grades! I can't focus on this silly 'work' business.

Jo pointed out to me this morning that I seem a little on edge. It seems that stress no longer registers with me consciously (although I wish it would, it might motivate me to study). Instead it just manifests in other ways, like me snapping at people. And telling the campaigning morons that I loathe their little paper flyers that people are just going to throw away. Shame, Shame on all you campaigning morons, you wasteful, selfish bastards! No... come to think of it I'd probably do that anyways. Dan beat me with his hat today though, maybe he expresses stress that way?

Okay self, I'm going to make a bargain with you: If you study, really study, and don't dick around until your bedtime, you can eat chocolate. Deal? Deal.

Wow... maybe I'm a little more crazy than coffee'n'cream after all?

Sanity Level - Chocolate

Paper. Check
Previous Paper. Check
Forms for Registrar. Check
Lunch for Library. Check
Fifteen minutes to spare. Check

Clearly I'm on top of this... so why do I feel mildly frantic?

Jo gave my paper a read-through and a resounding A (at the least A-), so now I have nothing to worry about. I trust him more than I trust my half-witted TA.

Sanity Level - Mint'n'Cream

Its just after midnight, the beginning of Monday. I have finished my essay, it is good. I ate the rest of my oreos, they were very good. After tomorrow I will purchase cheap valentine's day candy on sale at Pharmaprix, so now I have incentive to study so I can take the time to walk up there to get it on Tuesday. What a lame-o life I lead...

I also spent some time sending e-valentines to people. It was fun sending my jaded friends really sappy love ones, as if to point and laugh saying, "haha, you're bitter." I have managed to stave off the love-cynicism, although I was recently entertaining thoughts of semi-bitterness about men and love, so perhaps I am just as guilty as they are... *sigh*. Well, happy Love Day to those of you who, like me, are single and lovin' it. The rest of you (lovey and singleness-haters alike) can suck on an egg... I've heard they are tasty and don't raise blood-cholesterol. Unless they are chocolate eggs. Mmmmmm, chocolate.

"So those creeps at the egg council have gotten to you too!"
"No, Homer, its not like that..."

Sanity Level - Still Oreos

I have a handful of them left, which I will eat as dessert. The paper is writing itself very nicely, and I'm confident that tomorrow evening and Tuesday morning I will be productive in my studying (who knows, perhaps I will even go to the library!). Therefore, I justify a break to shower and cook dinner, which I will eat while taking a Simpsons break. WhooHoo!

Sanity Level - Oreos

I just explained my plan for the week to Noel. He thinks I am crazy, and perhaps I am. After reading over the messages I am fairly convinced that this plan will end in trouble one way or another. I'm just hoping its the good kind of trouble. SO, I have decided to log this crazy week for everyone's pleasure, including my changing sanity-level according to the patented Oreo-Cookie-Sanity-Meter (thanks to Noel for creative input). This will end with a post on Saturday when I get home from work.

The transcript of our conversation for your reading pleasure, and as a background to the project (edited for the sake of brevity and coherence):

Care - On the bright side, I've found some way to fit 4 midterms, one paper, 10 hours of work and 2 nights out drinking into one week... or at least... I'm finding a way... and one haircut... I'M A MACHINE
Noel - that's pretty impressive assuming your paper and midterms didn't crash et burn.
Care - I won't crash and burn, I haven't written any of them yet
Noel - oh this is this COMING week?
Noel - you're a madwoman
Care - but I have faith!! IT will go well! I will triumph and prove that I can have it all and earn the $80 some odd dollars to pay for it! Mwahaha!
Care- I've typed all my Islam notes, am making chemistry flash cards, have read all the articles and have a basic concept for the paper. Paper due tomorrow, study all night and again all day Tuesday, two midterms on Tuesday between 4 and 8, drinks with Romy and beer pong with Naomi and Mike. Drag myself out of bed, study Wednesday morning, go to class, go to work, study all night for my Earth Science midterm, haircut Thursday morning, study all afternoon, write second Islam midterm, go home and study for earth science some more, hit the bars for the night, get up Friday, review notes one more time, write Earth Science midterm at 1:30. Come home and die
Noel - and you will
Noel - die
Noel - but good luck

So: Plan for the rest of my day? Finish my flash cards, write the history paper, review my Middle East notes. Tasty Delicious Oreos.

Empty headed

I was thinking more yesterday, and Friday for that matter, than I am right now. Call it academic brainwashing, all I can bring to mind is what I've been reading, my interesting thoughts have fled. Even lying comatose through the latter half of Dazed and Confused was more mentally stimulating than this. Maybe that was just the second-hand pot smoke.

Last night proved in my mind the unparalleled power of a guitar to vastly increase the attractiveness of men (not that I didn't know already, but any doubt that remained was washed away completely). I mean, this guy was not at all attractive, but he was perhaps the most amazing guitarist I've ever heard. Consequently, when he played, I contemplated jumping him, and five seconds after he stopped I'd snap out of it and wonder what was wrong with me. Even aware of the effects of a guitar, I was helpless to resist.

The rest of the band was passable, but this guy was phenomenal. His voice was sometimes Bob Dylan and sometimes Mick Jagger, his hands possessed by the two Jimmy's and his body given over to the moves of Roger Daltry. I could close my eyes and believe it was 1974. At one point I could have sworn he was replaced by Chuck Berry. It was a great great night music-wise, and I'm glad to have decided to go with the longer walk and the more expensive beer. Outside of the music my evening was awkward, with nowhere to sit down (troubled me until the band started) and a companion that I wanted not to touch me. I hope my awkwardness didn't show.

On the bright bright side, I was reasonably productive today, looking forward to being moreso tomorrow. AND I got to have dinner with the lovely and charming Numoy. It was the typical date-night for us, rife with cracks about 'crust' and mimed bludgeoning, topped off with slut-laced banter. And a cheese pizza that was almost too good to be legal. To top off my evening, I was pleasantly surprised to find that Curly and I are on amazing terms (I will credit him with prompting my frequent use of the word amazing), and have a Dazed and Confused night planned for after the break. I'm excited and thrilled that he gives me so much credit, more than even I think I'm worth. He's a great guy.

Hangover shirt

I'm wearing my hangover shirt. It doesn't really signal how I feel, as much as how my night was. To be honest I feel pretty good, that's what one gets for hitting the bars ludicrously early and dragging home by 2am. I even got seven and some hours of sleep! And I ate pizza.

Model resurfaced last night, and if all goes well I'm heading out with him (and perhaps his cohorts) tonight. It was so easy I didn't even realize it had happened until Jo and I turned the corner. It was leading me towards the usual Cafe Campus evening: too much cheap beer, vodka (yuck) and dancing around wearing somebody else's hat and sunglasses. The hat was too small, but it didn't matter.

Speaking of Jo, I hope he doesn't stand me up, because making a breakfast date with someone as you are leaving the bar... not necessarily the most solid plan.

And I had strange dreams that are only just coming back to me... Roomie was in them, as was Apartment Boy... but I went home with Curly and a cat came with us... or maybe Curly was the cat. He transformed into a cat after we had pencils thrown at us for taking off our shirts in class. Oh well, at least that cat knew how to drive a stick shift...

Russia

When its quiet at work I'll chat with my coworkers about where we'll all end up. With a chunk of us graduating, these conversations turn to travel and joe-jobs and things to keep us occupied until we summon up the courage to go to grad school. A few weeks ago, I commented that I really wanted to go to Russia. Couldn't really explain why, just that I wanted to go. A girl from Lithuania argued that it wasn't a good idea: Russia is really dangerous and especially so if I don't speak Russian (of course, I don't, although that could be remedied). The third cashier stood up for me: I don't know this girl very well, she said, but she seems tough, she could handle it. The conversation ended, I didn't want to get into an argument over something I knew I was going to do if I decided I wanted to do it. I'm crazy that way.

Today I'm ringing through when my Lithuanian coworker comes down the stairs. On her way out into the blizzard, she stops.
"When are you working next?" Now this is a fairly common question. Its like joe-job pleasantries: along with 'how are you' and 'what's new', and the student pleasantries 'how are your classes/midterms going', we have 'when are you working next' and 'hey when is payday'.
"I don't know, I have a lot of midterms... not until next Wednesday... how about you?" I am pleasantry-ing along here.
"I'm working almost every day next week, mornings, but I wanted to talk to you about something."
My ears prick up. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, I know someone in Russia who wants someone to go there and teach english to his son, they'd be live-in, he'd pay all expenses, you'd have time to travel. I thought you might be interested."
I swear my heart stopped. I froze. Smiled. Told her I would drop by next week to talk about it.

Then the fear started setting in. My God, Russia, for a long time, living with a Russian family, learning Russian... teaching... Traveling... my god. So I got scared. Yes I know I'm jumping the gun, but can you imagine how amazing and terrifying that would be? I've got goosebumps just thinking about it. And you know? I'm just crazy enough to think that's an amazing idea. Will definitely keep you all posted.

Funny, I was reading over some posts from my old blog and thinking how I had been with someone much less crazy than I was. Then wondered if I was as crazy as I thought I was. This clinched it: only a headcase would be so thrilled at the opportunity ;)

False Spring

I resent the snow blowing past my window, I'd been enjoying pretending it was spring. I forget that here, spring doesn't really happen. Instead, the temperature bounces between winter and summer until one day its not winter anymore. Its about this time that I look for cherry blossom trees and tiny purple flowers after the rain.

Its amazing how my body still itches for it, knows deep-down somewhere that at home, the seasons are starting to turn. That along the streets in my old neighborhood, those pink flowers are coming out, and for one perfect week all the trees in the city bloom. I would walk to school, jumping up at intervals along the way to touch the branches and be caught in a flurry of petals. Waiting for rides, we would climb up and steal the flowers, tossing them behind our ears. Nothing will ever speak to me of spring like the cherry blossom trees.

They don't last very long, I think if they did we wouldn't notice them.

Before the trees on my street were cut down when I was about fourteen, and replaced with smaller maple trees, I remember waking up on a chance morning each February, to look outside and see the street suddenly full of pink.

But here, on a cold February morning in Montreal, the flurries are snow, and there are no flowers in the streets. And here, I have obligations and responsibilities, which I have been ignoring for far too long. In Montreal, spring is usually false.

Links #2

Okay, so I've been browsing the old Metafilter and have come up with more neat stuff. Sure, getting dressed and going to school would be a better idea than sitting here typing, but when was the last time I got out the door when I wanted to?

Head to the moon. Amazing site, you can catch countless more images from their archive. This is a metro station! (More neat metro photos here, worth seeing). I can't sift through them all to find you a neat one, but do give them a shot... not all are amazing but many are worth seeing. Some even have music!

Also, for time-wasting goodness try the generator blog.

Thanks to that site for making me late for work... again. Will I ever learn? Probably not. Away!

Funny days

I've had one of those funny days. Days when I am funny and the world is funny back to me. It started last night with Numoy...

"Why is this called 'Personal Lubricant'?"
"Well what do you want them to call it? Genital Lubricant?"
"Yeah... and what the hell do they mean by 'improves intimacy'?"

"What do you call a man with no arms and no legs, hiding in a pile of leaves?"
"Heeheehee, HOT DATE!"
"Slut! You do not!"

"That's sick! I can't believe you just told that joke! Asshole!"
Ten minutes later: "Hey what's that dead baby joke? I want to write it down."

If I had a dollar for every time I said that something seemed like a good idea at the time...
"Ah, walking here brings me back, so many memories... so many disturbing, wrong, inappropriate memories of things I probably shouldn't have done."
"What, like the pickled shit? That was right here."
"Oh! I totally forgot about the pickled shit!! I was thinking about that night at Jupiter when that sketchy guy insisted on driving me home. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I have the bible at home... somewhere... hidden under a stack of Satan."

"What did I tell you, its dumbshit poker, and my dumbshit is on a roll."
"Oh yeah, well my dumbshit is the Ace of Spades."

"I can't believe we just collectively ate cookies."
"Mmmph."

"I don't want her to have my cooties, I don't give my cooties to just anyone you know."

One night

Wandering home in the morning, abnormally warm, and I sang as I always do. As much as I'm not meant to think of it, I know I will be leaving soon.

"Left a good drug on my tongue, and I know I should write about the dizziness."

Running into Roomie, and god he is so contrary, arguing with me for the sake of disagreeing. I know how brilliant he is, and how adverse to compliments. And how much he reminds me of another person, who feels contrary because he is afraid of what agreement might mean.

"But I can't do that, can't do, I gotta keep my good composure, and swallow everything I want to say."

And the lights waved over my head from the top of the tower, my night was like any other.

"I'd take away the acid if I thought you'd understand."

Case of the Mondays

Attempting to get through my world of chem lectures... and yes I know that the reason I have to do them at home is because I bailed on it last week to eat dinner instead... Inevitably leads me to posting another useless post, with commentary on last night's par-tay, which I enjoyed but probably shouldn't have ended up at. Still, after dealing with Thursday's mistakes I couldn't just go to bed without some sort of adventure... mad props to Ray for sending me out there against my better judgment. I can't believe I just said mad props.

My body hurt so much this morning I could barely roll over and hit the snooze button. Three times. Until the pain forced to me get up and eat something. It was ten, and I was wondering what the hell Buddy had put in that purple punch. I recalled making a Family Guy reference at the time, when the keg was finally dry and I resorted to what literally was a garbage-can-full of punch... well... rubbermaid container full. I felt like I was sixteen again, when the point of mixing was to eliminate the taste of cheap white rum. Debating whether I was drinking a roofie-colada, I lost track of time, and suddenly realized I was too far gone to stop Buddy from attempting me. I promptly took myself home, despite his expressed desire for me to crash there. I swear I thought it was way earlier than it was. Turned out to be almost two when I rolled myself into bed.

In my state this morning I forgot to skip my history class (screw you library seminar) and spent a deliciously wasted hour with Jo enjoying the abnormally warm weather. We debated the extent of our singleness, and I lost, as I generally do with Jo. Being my realistic friend, I chose not to run him with the Curly situation, and instead gave him the opportunity to laugh at me as I regaled him with stories of my online dating escapades. I maybe managed to convince him that if I was online, there must be other cute girls online too. He has always told me how he cannot comprehend why men don't follow me around in droves.

Speaking of not being followed around, ran into Roomie for the first time since that epic Friday at Biffers a few weeks ago. There's a trend developing right now that I can't quite put my finger on, but he is still himself through and through. After speaking with Ray about everything else last night I feel like I'm the one winning. Yes I know, as Numoy was quick to point out, it is not a game, but damn do I ever feel good for having a point or two. On that note, I should go punish myself for being so petty and immature. Off for drinks with Numoy, I am sure my body will hate it.

Superbowl

So going to a Superbowl party having very little interest in football... a great time, am way too drunk to type right now... this is an amazing effort.

Buddy may have tried to sleep with me, I was pretty drunk, might have misread things... I explained that I've never been with anyone as a boost to my self-esteem and am not about to start. No matter how many times I get rejected I will never use sex to make myself feel good. Rock on.

Pennies on my floor

I don't know how they got there, but there are two of them. I think they are keeping each other company. I know that's what I'd be doing if I were on my floor...

Ottawa was a great trip, so many thanks to Jenna for putting me up. Of course we walked around the Parliament buildings (less obtrusive than I'd expected) and skated on the canal (mildly mushy, but I still feel much more Canadian now). My favourite quote/moment (after the set from our pre-drinking escapades) has to be, "So I get up and stumble out into the kitchen, and there's 'No-Pants-Jenna' passed out on the couch." No pants indeed. Questions arose the next morning: How did she get there? How did the keyboard fall out of the desk? Why are there little muddy footprints across the living room floor? Why don't I remember paying the cabbie? What exactly did I say to that guy? My favourite question asked the night before: Why aren't you having sex with that guy right now? I had several good reasons actually, and frankly, none of them were any of his business.

Of course, being shown a good time ends some time, and my brutal train was delayed and I got home and almost cried when I was running late for Rajeev's birthday dinner and my jeans were too small (okay, I had a fat day, what do you want from me?). So, I figured that crying wasn't the best plan, that I didn't feel much like shmoozing anyways, and I gave in to my exhaustion, watched Clerks and went to sleep. Amazing.

Clerks, by the way, is so much funnier after you have spent some time as a clerk. I loved the conversation about 'types of customers you hate'. If you are confused, please refer to my post from Tuesday of last week.

As for the rest of my evening, there's a Superbowl party in the works and apparently a keg with my name on it (as well as a 'garbage-can-full' of punch... yikes) so I might be heading on up. Beforehand, however, there's still the fallout from Thursday to be dealt with, so I will try to read while I wait for a phone call. Stay tuned...

Quotes from my evening in Ottawa

"He's fuckin hot, but he's got a small cock and puts a finger in your bum."
"Uh... yeah maybe don't introduce me"

"I mean... what are you gonna do? Pull it out and give me a Dirty Sanchez?!"

"Everytime I see her I think, haha Gross Vagina Girl! You have a gross vag... Guess he's the one settling now."
"I guess vaginas come in all different shapes and sizes... I'm lucky, I've been blessed with a nice vagina."

"I'm pure... yeah pure til I get into bed!"

8am

I woke up this morning wearing one sock. I'd like to think that it means something. I don't feel hungover as much as I feel tired, which was the point of taking things easy last night. I figure I will sleep on the train... which I'm sure will be packed. Which means I should really get my sorry ass in gear and in the shower... if I was already in Ottawa I wouldn't have to shower because my hair wouldn't smell like smoke! Bah.

The place that's the best...

Okay, so I'm mildly drunk, but that doesn't diminish in any way what I did tonight. And maybe I did go in with alterior motives. Whatever. Kissing someone for the first time is the place that's the best. Regardless. Its just so sweet. And I have all weekend to think about that, as he does, until I come home. Ruining a friendship or beginning something new? That's for us to decide.

Sprit in the sky

Its a song I'm into right now, go download it. No time for chatter as I'm packing and running off to Ottawa to visit Jenna. Whoo! Catch you on the flipside.

Not a morning person

Anyone who knows me will know that I don't do well with mornings. Sure I can pull off civil, maybe even coherent, but pleasant and chatty is definitely pushing it. Too bad I'm a cashier. Who even goes to buy their books at nine in the morning? I sit there clutching my coffee and silently asking, what on earth do you think you are doing?! Its not even nine yet? Why are you here? For the love of God why?! Its hard to treat the bag-taking, annoying, generally moronic individuals with respect at most times, but before my coffee has kicked it, its near impossible. So I started keeping a mental tally of all the 'bad customer etiquette' I encountered on my five-hour shift. Here it is for your reading pleasure:

1. People who take bags. People! So fine, sometimes you need one (ie: tons of books, your backpack is full) but if I can be environmentally aware so can you. If you ask me for a bag when you don't need one, I will give you my patented 'you-wasteful-asshole' face, and if you don't change your mind as a result (and the face does work sometimes) then I will no longer be friendly. I am a nice chatty cashier until you piss me off. It's my world too, how dare you be wasteful.

2. People who ignore me or stare at me blankly when clearly I need their input. This ranges from putting books in front of me (or worse, behind my computer so I have to reach around to get them), staring blankly when I say "its on the pinpad for you" and hand you your debit card right next to the damn thing, staring at me when I hand you a pen and your receipt to sign. Especially when you decide its not important to tell me you are making a return until I have rung everything through. Jackass. And then acting like its my fault. How do I know you are returning the book unless you tell me? The world does not revolve around you. Jackass.

3. People who talk on their cell phones and then ignore me when I ask for things like credit cards. Doubly bad when they are making returns.

4. People who don't pay attention. Wake up, when I say next I mean next now, not when you wake up.

5. People who get upset with me over store policy that I have no control over. I am a student, I am their bitch, you are making me your bitch by complaining. Please don't put me in this position. I can't badmouth the store in case my manager is watching, much as I would love to commiserate. Nor can I risk pissing off my bosses just to override policy for you. Just accept that the store has shit policy and get over it. If you ask a manager I'm sure they'd be happy to pretend that the policy doesn't exist just to make me feel and look stupid.

6. People who wait in line for ten minutes and then don't have their wallet/money/cards out. What were you doing for ten minutes? Do you realize that the line doesn't end with you? Would you be upset if you had to wait those ten minutes because somebody was dicking around in their pockets trying to find their money? Hell, its not my time as much as it is your fellow man's time... do us all a favour and be prepared.

7. People who don't understand that I use a computer with our inventory programmed into it. This goes for people who tell me the price of something when I comment that there is no SKU or ISBN number. I need this number. Its great that you know the price, but that doesn't do me much good. Our inventory is programmed, if I don't scan it as sold we won't have a correct inventory and I will get in trouble. Also, how do I know that its $4.95? Be patient while I call someone or find another one.

8. People who make a big stink. Please. Leave me be and make a stink at a manager, I am not paid enough to deal with your attitude problem. I have to leave mine at the door when I come in, no matter how shitty my day has been, you could do the same.

9. People who add things to their purchases after I have rung them in. You suck. No of course its not a big deal, but seriously, how much time does it take for you to pick candy? Doubly bad when you walk away to fetch something, leaving me with a transaction in progress and a big line of people thinking that I'm the one causing the delay. Its not me, its you. You suck.

10. This one's the kicker, and it happens all the time, believe it or not. Sometimes I will scan something and the barcode won't be recognized. I will comment, so the customer isn't left in the dark, that the item 'didn't scan'. They will reply, thinking they are the be-all and end-all of wit, "Heh, does that mean its free?" and laugh, looking at me for a response. I used to play along so they'd think I was nice, but by now it just pisses me off beyond all reason. You are not funny. Do you seriously think its the first time I've heard this? I've heard it so much that it makes me unjustifiably and ridiculously annoyed. Now you've upset me. The rest of this transaction will be awkward because you are a gimp. Are you happy now? Hmm? Who's the comedian now? Asshole. Take your bag and go.

Happy February

My insomnia is back with a vengeance. Oh yes. There I was, smug as hell, thinking how I'd conquered it and wasn't it great that usually I fell asleep within ten minutes of going to bed la la la.

It seems my brain/body caught wind of what I was up to.

(Voices should be Batman-and-Robin-esque from the old TV show)
Brain: Boy, what a great set of dreams, but I can barely remember them! Must have been sleeping pretty deeply.
Body: Yeah! I feel really rested these days!
Brain: Yes... A little too rested if you ask me... there's something fishy going on here...
Body: What do you mean? You don't think...
Brain: That's right! She's sleeping properly.
Body: What will we do!
Brain: We'll make her tired far too early, then when bedtime rolls around she'll be wide awake. Mwahahaha! MwaHaHaHa! MWAHAHAHAHA!
Body: Good call.

The following week....
Body: Gee whiz, you know, I don't think I like this new plan. I'm feeling really tired.
Brain: Yeah, me too, but now we're stuck with this strange sleeping pattern and I can't seem to change it.
Body: Aw shucks. I'll just hit the snooze button...
Brain: No! You fool! We'll be late for work/class/getting things done and being productive!
Body: *whack* zzzzzzzzzzzzz
Brain: zzzzzzzzzzz

Read me for free

"Our love was, comfortable and so broken in... she's perfect, so flawless, I'm not impressed, I want you back." - its a song about love, about how sometimes perfect is so wrong, how what we miss is the imperfections. I miss his imperfections. As much as I know, and oh he's such a bastard sometimes, and everyone tells me so. I can see him smile and my head still turns. The funny thing is, whenever I had him in the past I was so half-assed about wanting him. So I guess that proves without a doubt that we want what we can't have, and can't be bothered to want what we get. I can't even remember who I am talking about, which I guess goes to show that I'm a head case about men right now: really though, what's new?

After such a crazy weekend, I can't seem to get myself focused on reading, as much as it presses me. It seems to take more and more to entertain me, more and more pressure to get me to sit down and work for more than a short while. Ridiculous. I came in here to check my email and its been an hour or so. Let's face it, I can't go to grad school next year because I would actually lose my mind. Not that I am banking on getting in, but you know, its good to have a plan: insanity is always a good plan.

Ah and I'm rambling for the hell of it. Spent Sunday afternoon walking, as it was barely below zero here in Montreal. Wandered my way down to Chapters and read their travel guides for a while. As Krista said: if they could, I'm sure they would read me for free too.