I didn't realize how well my flatmates knew me until tonight. I was standing with 2 of them in the kitchen, waiting for my pitzza (pizza on a pita) to be finished, thinking about settling and wasted love and being alone but not lonely, when Lara says, "Oh, Alysia's thinking." Of course, I'd said nothing so I inquired as to what she was implying. "You have this way of softly sighing when your thinking. It's like ...", at which point Lara demonstrated with startling accuracy the noise I didn't know that I make when I'm thinking. After the demo, Adg chuckled, agreeing that the sigh was indeed a near perfect replica, including, "That's our Alysia, the one and only." I know that my face hides nothing, but these women now know my noises, God/desses bless them. It is comforting to know that no matter how many people at school/work/play see me as just a clown, I can go home to people who value my subtleties without my knowledge. For someone as outlandish and extroverted as me, that is the best present I could get. I may complain sometimes, but I really do love these women.

As they are the best flatmates in the world, they correlated their birthday presents for me, giving me a Mexican Hat Chip & Salsa Bowl which plays a Mexican hat dance, a hand blender for dips and soups, and a recipe book of blender things. These women are truly awesome. Party at the Lava Pit!!

If you are a friend curious about someone's upcoming birthday, I have the perfect present from John Allison from Scary Go Round, a great comic out of the UK. I goes a little something like this:

Isn't it amazing!!!!! I'm in love with shirt. I've already let my parents know that I am getting it for myself if they don't get it for me, I love it that much. I could be a secret scary friend. *makes devilish face, looks in the mirror* Or not.

So, I was hobbling around campus today, when I saw an alert notice. It turns out that there have been three attacks on women in the past three month a block from my house. This gives me cause for alarm especially since one of the attacks was in the school that I would walk through to get to school, if I could walk. It's still the school that my flatmates walk through. Also, on the now infamous Alysia-hates-this-street-for-wrecking-her street, a man walked into a woman's house and attacked her. Let me remind you again that this street is a school away from my house. I'm a little freaked out considering my vulnerable state right now. Seems like a perfect time to plug:
Take back the Night
Thursday, September 18th, 2003 @ 6:30 at the Victoria Park clock tower, Kitchener, ON. Take Back the Night is an annual symbolic event where women march as a symbol of our basic human right to be where we want, when we want, alone or with another, without the protection of men, and without the threat of violence. Though women march, men are invited to come out and support women on the walk and have refreshments afterwards. Anyways, there are walks all over North America. There is probably one in your town/city/village. If there isn't one, there is perfect opportunity to test your organization skills. :)

English club rocks the Casbah! I'm really excited about the year to come. English club, Amnesty WLU, Resource Co-ordinator @ the Women's Centre, LSPIRG and Jazz choir. Busy, but it's what I want. :D

I forgot about ... for a week.
A week of real pain,
unfabricated
scraping
harsh pain.
A week of me
forgetting all about
...
Pain makes me
less reflective,
which suits me fine
this time when
memory is on
an essential
sabatical.
I just hope I can
make the transition on my own without
stopping everything
for a natural
plastic
me.

"Only you, Alysia"

Once, in first year, I stapled my finger. I was playing with a stapler and I just stapled it, right into my index finger. Most people are familiar with my clumsy, fidgety nature, which often leads to such things as a staple in my right index finger. I'm telling you this so, in case you aren't familiar with my particular temperment, you'll understand why I'm wearing an AirCast right now.

It's Wednesday, and I'm walking home from a satisfying day at the WLU Frosh Fair with the Women's Centre. I'm 2 minutes into my 10 minute walk home when my baby blue/lime green sneakers decided that potholes were the place to be. Only half way in, they decided, mmmmm, not so much about the potholes. My ankles turned and I heard that distinct crack of breaking something. After a few moments of harsh scraping pain, my stunned brain said "Walk it off, honey, walk it off." With a blank face and a slow step, I made the remaining 8 minutes home on what I found out three hours later is an ankle with 3 torn ligaments. When I saw the doctor, he asked me whether I could walk on it. I told him that at the moment I could not but "I walked home on it. I'm a pretty tough broad." He gave me the prognosis and a prescription, then asked me what pain killers I had taken. Of course, I'd taken nothing, because I don't think of taking pain killers. When I told the doctor this he reeled, saying "well, you are a tough broad." Thank you, Doc. I'd like to think so, but right now, I'm not feeling so tough. I came home to my Mom, cause I'm having trouble walking up my stairs and I felt bad having my flatmates do everything for me.

Why am I telling you this? I'm telling you this because I have never done anything close to this before. I'm accident prone but normally they are minor, staples in fingers. Also, I've got a fuckload of pent up energy, which may turn into long-winded, winding blogs. My apologies if that happens. Just thought you'd want the chance to laugh, shaking your head while saying "Only you, Alysia." :)