Happy Halloween!!

I'm going out as un tigre! So much fun to be had! I love pretending I'm something not! ;)

And isn't he the shit, though?

I don't know if I've ever brought these to your attention before but I doubt it. Behold! The Strongbad Emails! If you've ever heard me say in a strange accent such things as "For good or for awesome" or "On a scale of 1 to Awesome, I am super great" or "Possibly, quite possibly, even possibly fourteenth base" or sing "Checkin' my email", then now you can feast your eyes on "the source of all [my] witticism", as my best friend so nicely put it.

That's some F'ed up S!

Whoa, it's been a weird couple of days. The apex of weird came today when I went to my Italian tutorial. First, a bit of background info. In first year university, if you stay in residence here at beautiful Wilfred Laurier University, you will have a brother/sister floor. Because I was in an all-girls res, we had a brother floor. Now, that I am out in my own place, there is no official brother apartment, but you might say that my flatmates and I have a quasi-brother apartment. One of my flatmates was dating this guy for two years and we are all kinda friends. My flatmates have become my surrogate sisters and those three young men my surrogate brothers. Well, last night at four in the morning, one of the three boys walked willingly into the cop shop with a pound of weed taped to his chest asking for in all seriousness the "robots who worked for the government". 6 o'clock this morning the other two boys were awakened by the cops banging on their door asking for the third. I get to Italian tutorial this morning and a guy in my class who was roommates with one of the two remaining boys lets me know of this situation. I'm like, "whatever, he's blowing it out of proportion." Nope. Definetly not. Turns out the guy just strolled into the police station with a pound of weed taped to his chest! As was previously stated, that's some f'ed up s. When you think you can't be anymore confused by life, it sends you a Dali.

A bit of a continuation to

I hate my temperament

I can't seem to shake this feeling that I need to be alone. I know that I can't be alone because I'm such a social junkie, but I just don't feel like I'm giving myself enough attention right now. What am I living for? Really though? So I can go off and find a man to marry and give him a laugh and some babies? Is that what I'm living for? Am I even laughing for myself anymore? I've made this huge tapestry and I can't tie off any of the ends because it just keeps getting more complicated. I want to run off into oblivion for awhile but it's just not possible because I have an Italian composition due tomorrow and a Comedies proposal due on Thursday and where is the living is all this school? I apologize if as of late I've been a little off but you're just going to have to deal with it a little longer because it's not going away any time soon.

This was written in session and I didn't read over it so if it makes no sense I apologize again but I'm gonna go with some "no delete" here.

Two days, bitches!!!!

Only two days till the magic that is Scarlet's Walk the new Tori Amos album. If you're looking for some inside info on tour stuff and the album, you know where to go. I must say that it should be wicked awesome, considering that I have heard ninety percent of it already because I cheat and download it. I'll buy it though, don't worry. I'm too excited not to.

I hate my temperament.

Today, in choir, I was joking around with the people who sit around, when my choirmaster commented on my temperament. I believe it was something along the lines of "How do you do it? To be so lively on a daily basis. It does make the world a better place though." Don't befriend someone like that; they're never like that all the time. It's extremes: mountain and sea bottom. We can't control it. At about four o'clock today I couldn't keep a smile from my face and now... well, happiness seems like God; it can't possibly be real. Be my acquaintance. It's safer that way; you're never exposed to whatever it is that has grabbed a hold on my ankles, tripping at every step. The killer is that I'll be fine tomorrow. You'll see me smiling, babbling about something trivial like my breakfast cereal. (Mmmmm... Wheatabix....so wheaty.) Mention this little blog and I'll just say it was a passing mood. Just know that you've been warned.

If Classics 101 was a man, he'd calling me right now, begging me for more, cause what he had this morning was so good. My midterm: excellent, marvelous, thorough, exact, AWESOME!! I do not think it can be expessed in any other word but AWESOME!! I haven't taken a history course since grade 11; I've been pretty frightened this year. Though I've been comprehending the material, I was skeptical of my ability to absorb the exact information: dates, Greek names, archaic democratic terms. I've been bothering the people I've been talking to by spontaneously spurting Greek facts, but this morning all that paid off. My exam was 5 identifications from 10 and an essay from two topics. I could have written about all 10 topics and both essays. When I read the exam, I actually chuckled. The teacher came over to ask if there was some kind of grievous mistake made and I just said, "No, I'm just surprised, that's all." So, that is my one and ONLY midterm, overwith. Good luck to everyone else who still has midterms. I wish you love. Break something unimportant. :)

And now I hate it even more

I am going to kill my italian prof. I've been busting my ass for the past three days because I thought that I had two midterms this week; one in Classics, the other in Italian. I went to my Italian class today and, of course, the first questions presented to the teacher are about the test, which is in the syllabus. Now, I have been studying the two chapters which my tutorial leader told us would be one said "test" but the Italian prof told us that "No, non é un esame. É una composizione. Consegni la composizione per lunedì." Needless to say, I thought that was a load of cazzata and I thought she was a troya. It clearly stated that it was "esame tre" and that it was on "23 ottobre" which is definitely not "28 ottobre". And I could have been studying for Classics. She will pay, oh yes, she will.

My head has been excremented on by birds thrice. Twice in my dark brown hair. I felt disappointed when the excrement landed on my shirt. Why should it be so unlucky?

That's quite a long time

I just realized that I've been doing this for over a year now. I went back to read my first post and realized that I had no idea who introduced me to this piece of crap. Whoever it was either never blogged or, like most, quit after a short time. I've always considered myself quite fickle and that I have stuck with this for so long kinda makes me have a little more faith in my powers of commitment. When I started it was just for kicks, to alleviate some stress, and I really didn't think I'd stick with it this long. (I also started with dial-up which could be why I didn't think I'd stick with it.) I also started blogging at the beginning of this time of separation from everything I'd become accustomed to living with and have now become accustomed to living without. Quite honestly, I didn't think that university would last either and it seems to still be going, though slowly, especially Classics. Ugh... My brother used to say that he was going to die before 21, and I think I always half agreed with him, that life couldn't possibly go on that long. Once you hit twenty-one, where do you go? Now, I think that's when real life starts. I started this page because life was becoming too surreal. (Also, because I thought it would be a nice showcase for my writing, which I've chosen to share, um, once. Tool.) Life is still too surreal. A friend of mine asked me if she could pinch my cheeks the other day and, after she had, I had to wonder why. Because we’re out here doing it, what we always thought we might but never really expected to do, Nic had to pinch my cheeks. To make sure I’m real and that all of this is real. All the time I invested in dreaming was panning out to real life and my journal/sketchbook couldn’t hold it anymore, so you guys have to put up with this crap. Damn this real life, damn youse!

I just want to make it known that Here in my head has gone through some design changes that I really like. Of course it is to coincide with the new album, "Scarlett's Walk" which is to arrive in less than two weeks. YAY!! Check out the Diagnosed Sound for some mad fine live downloads from the new album, as well as some lovely stuff from the old albums. Check to wreck it. :)

Dude, I am such a cat.

Do you ever have those particularly wonderful days that still leave you with the desire to break something? I know this is a North American "nothing to live for" phenomenon but I'm nearly positive that it can't just be myself. I had a great Classics class followed by a wonderful Shakespeare's Comedies. Next I went home, had a bowl of steaming hot delicious chicken noodle soup that was crafted by my own hands. Handed in my Romantic Lit essay which could very well be the best essay I've ever written in my life, follow by a doctor's appointment where they told me my mild chest infection would be gone within a week, which is great because Butt is coming down to K/W in a week. Perfection. School was complete and I had a nice dinner with my flatmates. I ended my night by talking to my best friend for longer than I've allowed myself since I've gotten back to school, and yet, by no fault of my friend, I just wanted to scream and smash bottles and all I could think was "why am I doing this?" It's as if the wonderful things are water; misery is a big, fat steak. Water just doesn't fill me. I'm happy, which is the strangest part. Luckily I stopped myself before I succumbed to the desires. A friend of mine used to always say "The mind is willing, but the flesh is weak." I'm pretty sure he was talking about sex but I think it's applicable here too.

Just call me Jamie freaking Oliver

Okay, well maybe I'm not that great, but I did just make my fine self some chicken noodle soup from scratch. Yes, that's right my fine feathered friends, I boiled old chicken bones, spent an hour picking the meat off said bones, chopped veggies, and salt and peppered it myself. Took me all afternoon but now I have a big fine pot of chicken noodle soup that doesn't come from a package and look all fluorescent yellow. It really isn't that big of an accomplishment but it sure feels like it when it takes all afternoon. I also must have called my da about 7 times to ask him if certain things were normal. "Da, is the broth supposed to go cloudy?" (It is.) "Da, do I put the veggies in the pot in stages?" (No, you can throw them all in at once.) "Da, do I have to cook the pasta before I put it in?" (No, you just throw it in raw.) "Da, when do I throw it in raw?" (About fifteen minutes before the soup is done.) "Da, when do I put it in the containers for the freezer?" (Leave it in the pot till tomorrow, then put it in the freezer containers, and, no, that won't cause food poisoning.) My da is so very helpful. I wonder if Jaime Oliver's dad is so helpful? Probably not.

Why is it not winter break right frickin' now? I'm so sick of this school bullshit. My visit home was way too short and I really don't want to be here in the K/W right now. I know, some people didn't even get a Thanksgiving holiday and that blows my ass but I did, so why do I feel like I didn't? Come on, snow and Christmas. Where the f are you?

I thought this was interesting.

Why I haven't blogged in 4 days

I'm sick. Really sick. Can't sleep, stuffy nose, coughing sick. I tried to say have a nice weekend to my friends as they were driving away on Thursday and ended up doubled over hacking for 5 minutes. The worst part was that I was under the underpass at my school and there is a fierce echo there so all you could hear was my extreme coughing. Please excuse me if I don't blog for a couple more days. I'm probably sleeping.

Who knows when all this will change? Tomorrow, perhaps...

I am complete. If right now was not enough, then I'll never have enough. I have enough love and happiness to fulfill my basic human desire for companionship. I'm too busy to worry about someone I need to get in contact with to tell them that "yes, I still need you and, yes, I still love you, and, of course I still miss you". I have essays, tests, classes, sleep and, duh-dum-da-DA, a social life. This year, school is top of the priorities, when last year it was down below "blogging", but as you can tell by the frequency of blogs this year, it's actually listed below classes. Work should never be number 1 when you have this much living left. It just wouldn't jive, but I realized that now I'm 20. Many of my readers felt old months ago, but this month it was my turn, only the problem is that I don't feel old. I felt old at 19. Look at how big the number nine is. There is only one number bigger than 9 and that's ten. 20 is just a 2 with a zero. So young, so ex-innocent. I think that would be the most appropriate made-up word for what I am right now. I'm not experienced yet but I've passed out of innocent. I'm in the land of nothing and for right now, nothing means alone, or at least not actively searching.

I feel like I'm writing another porn paper

Last year, for my communication studies class, I wrote a paper on pornography. It terrified me to write on such a controversial subject but I wrote it because I felt as though it would make a good essay. I did well on the essay but I'm getting the same feeling as I'm writing the Women's LIt paper: I'm gonna crash and burn. Let's just hope that, as I heed the advice of Dr. Moore to take some chances with my essays, I'm not totally wrong. :S

School and I have a love/hate relationship

AHHH!! I just can't get the motivation up to do anything. I have an essay due on Monday in my Women's Lit class on the treatment of female sexuality in Aphra Behn's The Disappointment and Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market and I just can't bear to start it. I've got pages upon pages of notes for the damn thing and I've formulated my thesis but I can't seem to start the actual writting. I'm ready to start writing but I can't bring myself to do it. I think it's partially because it is the first essay of this year and, once I write this essay, I have either an essay or a test due once a week for the rest of the year. GAH!!

How my parents are the coolest

Okay, many of you won't think this is the coolest but I was greatly appreciative. Today, as some of you know, is my birthday, which I am spending in Waterloo. Today, I killed a Shakespeare's Comedies test and my choirmaster showed his benevolence by allowing me to skip a choir pratice to go see Ani. (1 absence = 1grade point lost. He says that's not applicable in that situation.) Most triumphant. When I got home, my roommate Vicky told me that a "surprise" arrived for me today, which I thought was "We got you a present and it's in your room." Wasn't I surprised to find that there was flowers sitting on my bedside table. I was expecting the girls to buy me a juice jug, because they wouldn't let me buy me one, so at first I was like "what the f?" I noticed there was a card saying "Happy 20th Lala, Love Mom and Dad". It's surprising how perceptive parents can be sometimes. I've been nagging everyone to buy me flowers for like six months and my parents came through. So cool of them. :)

Why Pippi Longstocking is the shit...

(You'll understand this if you know I'm a coffee addict. If you didn't know that, well, I drink approximately 3-4 cups a day. That's cutting back from the ten I used to drink. I can't quit cold turkey so I'm trying the old cutting back method. It's not working so well.)

I read this poem in my Women's Lit course and I thought you might like to read it. It's called The Disappointment and it was written by Aphra Behn during the Restoration period, which followed the Renaissance. Now, the poem is long but I suggest reading it all the way through. If you don't get it about half way through, fret not. Behn lets you know exactly what has happened at the end. It gave me quite a chuckle. ;)

Note: At midnight, the weather was "Waves of Torturous Remorse". I thought that was the forcast for the day but turns out that that was the forcast for the 1st. Dash it all.