Ok so Song of the Arbitrary Amount of Time is The Cheapest Key by Kathleen Edwards. I liked this song the very first time I heard it on CBC Radio 3. It's a tune that in-beds itself in your brain. and you're glad it did.
This lady seems like she would be a hilarious person to know. And I'm pretty sure she is a Neil Young fan - which, obviously means she has sublime taste.
And Imma throw in a song that is currently - and has on and off since last year's Juno Awards, when I heard it for the first time - causing me to burst out in fits of singing. Little Bit of Red by Serena Ryder. Sooooo goooooood. Ryder has a bit of a Melissa Etheridge sounding voice, but distinct. I imagine from the sound of her singing that she must have a marvelous laugh. A bit throaty, not high pitched, but not monotonous.... just riddled with character.
Plus I love the line "come here, I'm gonna smear another colour over you." The lyrics are sweet, and I'm quite partial to a rhyme..... but it's really the delivery of this phrase that is just perfect. Like she's squeezing 'here' and 'smear' out of her throat and then just letting the rest of the words bubble forth.... Just listen to it.
So there y'are. Two lovely Canadian ladies and a sampling of their music.
Ok now enough of this procrastination. I haz studyin' to be did. So ver ver much so. Teh whole of the Medieval times in England worth of studying.
Showing posts with label not studying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label not studying. Show all posts
Monday, April 19, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
ps.
I am writing gratuitous amounts of uninteresting posts in an effort to legitimate the fact that I am not studying.
I think it is working.
I think it is working.
Monday, December 14, 2009
"Raise a glass to mend....
My room is a mess and must be cleaned and I have an exam on Friday that I need to do some hard core studying for, since I know next to nothing about the material. Sooo.... naturally, I'm here, honing my procrastination skillz.
It has been many a day since last I wrote. And I call myself a writer...
Right well, I never did a review of the Gaga concert. But really, what could I say that you couldn't infer from my open invitation for her to marry me? I dunno....
It was like being at a play, I suppose. A play with an ambiguous story line and a near lethal audience. I had to have CONSTANT VIGILANCE (Mad-Eye would be proud) to ensure no one accidentally crushed my 11 year old brother.
She had multiple costume changes with each get-up more ridiculous than the last. I'd say my personal favourite was either the black spiderweb type body suit she had going on or the space-age Bowie-infused glittery light-up extravaganza she wore for the first few songs. Or maybe the Cleopatra-style golden bondage suit. There really were too many to choose from.
How 'bout this one with the built in external rib-cage?
(If you click to embiggen, the pictures will only get blurrier. I wouldn't recommend it)
But more than the madness of her clothing (if you can call it clothes.... not sure it quite falls under that category. Maybe underwear. Or art) it is her voice that sets this woman apart from many disappointing pop tarts/stars of today. She can actually sing. She has inflection in her song, emotion in her voice... she sounds legit. And if I'm gonna pay for a concert, I better damn well get to hear the artist's voice, real time, coming from their actual mouth.
The show began with a projection of a free-floating Lady Gaga on a screen that made up the 4th wall of the stage, with a count-down in the corner to when she would appear. [Note to anyone planning any type of show: count-downs make EVERYTHING way cooler (I mean think about it, what usually follows a countdown? Something crazy... a spaceship launch, a bomb, New Year's.... the anticipation drives people into a frenzy, I'll tell you that)]. When she finally became visible in her light up costume beyond the screen she sang "Dance in the Dark," off her new quasi album.
Madness ensued in the form of a stellar set. High-lights included: her questioning of the audience asking "DO YOU THINK I'M SEXY? DO YOU WANT TO FUCK ME?!?" (My brother was minorly horrified.), her intimate rendering of "Speechless" with just her and the piano (which the whole crowd seemed to know despite the fact that it had only come out around five days prior to the concert), a dentist chair on which everyone seemed to die at one point (even the Lady herself),
and the time one of her backup dancers lit her a cigarette and I thought 'man, someone should give her a bylaw ticket, how funny would that be...' [Ottawa has a no smoking in public establishments bylaw].
She finished up with an encore of "Eh Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)" and "Bad Romance" which she sang from the centre of a giant metal Bohr-Rutherford diagram minus the electrons.
When I showed a picture of that to my mom she said it must mean Lady Gaga thinks she's the centre of the universe.
"No mum," I replied. "Then she would have to believe in a geocentric model of the universe, and I'm sure she's smarter than that. Surely she only thinks she's the centre of the solar system."
I'm so cheeky.
But in a very scientific, I-can't-help-it-I-have-only-two-social-skills way.
The only quibble I saw was when she seemed a bit iffy on when to come in for "Beautiful and Dirty Rich." I could have sworn I saw her motion to a dancer in a questioning fashion, but then, who the fuck knows what I saw, the crowd was so thick and tall it was a work out to see anything at all.
Speaking of shortness, my poor bro. He's about up to my chin. Many people took pity on him and pushed us ahead of themselves.
That went on for a bit until we hit this wall of bitch. It was several girls who were just nasty about making fucking sure that this little 11 year old kid didn't get any further. I completely understand people not wanting to let us past them, we never pushed to get past people, and I'm surprised we got as far as we did. But these girls were quite wicked. They were calling my brother names to each other just loud enough for him to hear and using their asses to push anyone behind them backwards. For some reason they felt entitled to more room than everyone else on the floor. I wanted so badly to break them. Instead I spent a good deal of time devising ways to get away from them before I flew off the handle. My brother took to calling their ring leader "the whore."
Other people on the other hand, amazed me with their kindness. Some people took it upon themselves to ask others if we could move in front of them. But one girl - and whoever you are, I wish you would read this - saw my bro and put him on her back for a bunch of songs. So thank you soooooo much to the girl with brown curly hair and a purple and black scarf for being an amazing human being and restoring my love for humanity just when I thought it was gone due to "the whore" and her posse.
Putting him on my back wasn't nearly as effective as putting him on the tall girl with the purple scarf, but that's what I did, after the she left. Dear lord he's heavy. It didn't help that I tried to dance with him up there.
So there you have it.
O and Kid Cudi, the other opening act after Semi Precious Weapons, was a'ight. Not quite my cup of tea, but I enjoyed it and his rappiness. Brother dear, though, actually fell asleep standing up during his act. I just looked down in the middle of "Pursuit of Happiness" to find he had his eyes closed, oblivious to the roaring crowd. It was ok though, since he had no way to fall down, as we were packed in too tight.
.... all the broken hearts of all my fucked up friends"
It has been many a day since last I wrote. And I call myself a writer...
Right well, I never did a review of the Gaga concert. But really, what could I say that you couldn't infer from my open invitation for her to marry me? I dunno....
It was like being at a play, I suppose. A play with an ambiguous story line and a near lethal audience. I had to have CONSTANT VIGILANCE (Mad-Eye would be proud) to ensure no one accidentally crushed my 11 year old brother.
She had multiple costume changes with each get-up more ridiculous than the last. I'd say my personal favourite was either the black spiderweb type body suit she had going on or the space-age Bowie-infused glittery light-up extravaganza she wore for the first few songs. Or maybe the Cleopatra-style golden bondage suit. There really were too many to choose from.
How 'bout this one with the built in external rib-cage?
(If you click to embiggen, the pictures will only get blurrier. I wouldn't recommend it)
But more than the madness of her clothing (if you can call it clothes.... not sure it quite falls under that category. Maybe underwear. Or art) it is her voice that sets this woman apart from many disappointing pop tarts/stars of today. She can actually sing. She has inflection in her song, emotion in her voice... she sounds legit. And if I'm gonna pay for a concert, I better damn well get to hear the artist's voice, real time, coming from their actual mouth.
The show began with a projection of a free-floating Lady Gaga on a screen that made up the 4th wall of the stage, with a count-down in the corner to when she would appear. [Note to anyone planning any type of show: count-downs make EVERYTHING way cooler (I mean think about it, what usually follows a countdown? Something crazy... a spaceship launch, a bomb, New Year's.... the anticipation drives people into a frenzy, I'll tell you that)]. When she finally became visible in her light up costume beyond the screen she sang "Dance in the Dark," off her new quasi album.
Madness ensued in the form of a stellar set. High-lights included: her questioning of the audience asking "DO YOU THINK I'M SEXY? DO YOU WANT TO FUCK ME?!?" (My brother was minorly horrified.), her intimate rendering of "Speechless" with just her and the piano (which the whole crowd seemed to know despite the fact that it had only come out around five days prior to the concert), a dentist chair on which everyone seemed to die at one point (even the Lady herself),
and the time one of her backup dancers lit her a cigarette and I thought 'man, someone should give her a bylaw ticket, how funny would that be...' [Ottawa has a no smoking in public establishments bylaw].She finished up with an encore of "Eh Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)" and "Bad Romance" which she sang from the centre of a giant metal Bohr-Rutherford diagram minus the electrons.
When I showed a picture of that to my mom she said it must mean Lady Gaga thinks she's the centre of the universe.
"No mum," I replied. "Then she would have to believe in a geocentric model of the universe, and I'm sure she's smarter than that. Surely she only thinks she's the centre of the solar system."
I'm so cheeky.
But in a very scientific, I-can't-help-it-I-have-only-two-social-skills way.
The only quibble I saw was when she seemed a bit iffy on when to come in for "Beautiful and Dirty Rich." I could have sworn I saw her motion to a dancer in a questioning fashion, but then, who the fuck knows what I saw, the crowd was so thick and tall it was a work out to see anything at all.
Speaking of shortness, my poor bro. He's about up to my chin. Many people took pity on him and pushed us ahead of themselves.
That went on for a bit until we hit this wall of bitch. It was several girls who were just nasty about making fucking sure that this little 11 year old kid didn't get any further. I completely understand people not wanting to let us past them, we never pushed to get past people, and I'm surprised we got as far as we did. But these girls were quite wicked. They were calling my brother names to each other just loud enough for him to hear and using their asses to push anyone behind them backwards. For some reason they felt entitled to more room than everyone else on the floor. I wanted so badly to break them. Instead I spent a good deal of time devising ways to get away from them before I flew off the handle. My brother took to calling their ring leader "the whore."
Other people on the other hand, amazed me with their kindness. Some people took it upon themselves to ask others if we could move in front of them. But one girl - and whoever you are, I wish you would read this - saw my bro and put him on her back for a bunch of songs. So thank you soooooo much to the girl with brown curly hair and a purple and black scarf for being an amazing human being and restoring my love for humanity just when I thought it was gone due to "the whore" and her posse.
Putting him on my back wasn't nearly as effective as putting him on the tall girl with the purple scarf, but that's what I did, after the she left. Dear lord he's heavy. It didn't help that I tried to dance with him up there.
So there you have it.
O and Kid Cudi, the other opening act after Semi Precious Weapons, was a'ight. Not quite my cup of tea, but I enjoyed it and his rappiness. Brother dear, though, actually fell asleep standing up during his act. I just looked down in the middle of "Pursuit of Happiness" to find he had his eyes closed, oblivious to the roaring crowd. It was ok though, since he had no way to fall down, as we were packed in too tight.
.... all the broken hearts of all my fucked up friends"
Friday, October 30, 2009
halleluuuuiaaaaaaaa glory be.
Journalism Prof is my new most favourite person for giving us a week extension on our huge, ginormous, stupid, spiteful assignment. It doesn't quite make up for the fact that he assigned it in the first place, but at this point, it comes pretty damn close.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
I am tired. Hear me Snore!
Hello all. Remember me? The one who writes this blogge.... or doesn't these days. Just wanted to say:
Damn exams to hell.
I have a mid-term tomorrow. And the next day.
So obviously I am writing a post, when I should be studying. Erg I make myself so mad.
What has happened done recently? Not much. A bus driver drove past me whilst I stood in front of the door practically crying to be let on. I was published in my uni newspaper. It I turned 19 somewhere between this post and the last one. It snowed today.
And I am slowly headed towards a breakdown. But it's cool. I've always (and have probably mentioned this before) wanted to experience a padded room.
Family invaded my house over Thanksgiving (which was last weekend, because I'm in Canada, and that's how we roll. Also, pilgrims and Native peoples would never have a picnic in November, because that would be stupid and in the snow). Usually only one or two relatives trek on over to O-town for spankgive'r, but this year hoards and fleets of them came from all over the place to take care of my mother who just had surgery to get some cancer out of her neck (really, it was her thyroid that was taken out, along with some lymph nodes). We had a whole smorgasbord of family here.
So with the family everywhere and going to the hospital and cleaning for guests and being sick (with what I'm gonna say was SWINE FLU. runn for yourr livvvesss ahhh...) and making sure I was a proper fucking host to all the relatives all around (and I love them to death, but I am so goddam busy with school you have no idea, and they are reeeaallly distracting) in the absense of my mother, I haven't gotten any school shit done, I haven't done readings, I haven't been to all my classes, and I can't even manage to write a proper sentence (see this one is going to be the run-on sentece to beat all run-on sentences) and now I have a mid-term tomorrow that I didn't even realize I had until yesterday. So fuck.
That is why I'm headed for a breakdown.
Now I shall study.
Damn exams to hell.
I have a mid-term tomorrow. And the next day.
So obviously I am writing a post, when I should be studying. Erg I make myself so mad.
What has happened done recently? Not much. A bus driver drove past me whilst I stood in front of the door practically crying to be let on. I was published in my uni newspaper. It I turned 19 somewhere between this post and the last one. It snowed today.
And I am slowly headed towards a breakdown. But it's cool. I've always (and have probably mentioned this before) wanted to experience a padded room.
Family invaded my house over Thanksgiving (which was last weekend, because I'm in Canada, and that's how we roll. Also, pilgrims and Native peoples would never have a picnic in November, because that would be stupid and in the snow). Usually only one or two relatives trek on over to O-town for spankgive'r, but this year hoards and fleets of them came from all over the place to take care of my mother who just had surgery to get some cancer out of her neck (really, it was her thyroid that was taken out, along with some lymph nodes). We had a whole smorgasbord of family here.
So with the family everywhere and going to the hospital and cleaning for guests and being sick (with what I'm gonna say was SWINE FLU. runn for yourr livvvesss ahhh...) and making sure I was a proper fucking host to all the relatives all around (and I love them to death, but I am so goddam busy with school you have no idea, and they are reeeaallly distracting) in the absense of my mother, I haven't gotten any school shit done, I haven't done readings, I haven't been to all my classes, and I can't even manage to write a proper sentence (see this one is going to be the run-on sentece to beat all run-on sentences) and now I have a mid-term tomorrow that I didn't even realize I had until yesterday. So fuck.
That is why I'm headed for a breakdown.
Now I shall study.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Calm the tweeting you big Twit. (that was a complement)
You know what i don't like? Twitter.
People are going crazy over this thinger, and I don't get it. Are they just super psyched that they can, in great detail (or as much detail as you can fit into 140 characters or less), chronicle their life as it occurs? Yes I think that must be it. People can't go around announcing to everyone their life's story, so Twitter is the next best thing.
But I will never get it. No sir, not I. I do not want to be a tweeting twit or whatever they're called.
I mean really, do I ever need to let people know what I'm doing at all moments of the day? No.
Maybe if I was doing something worth updating people on every five minutes like fighting an epic battle in Antarctica against rabid penguins or sky diving from the International Space Station (which wouldn't work, I know....but could you just imagine?) I would get it, but as it is all I'd have to put up is "shit, my prof's mic isn't working again and I can't hear her tiny mouse voice because I'm not sitting in the front row" or "bkdwiuf I'm drunk and Metric is whoaaaa awesomeee..." or "at this point, ALL I WANT OUT OF LIFE IS TO RIDE THE NEW DOUBLE DECKER BUSES THAT ARE CRUISING THE TRANSIT SYSTEM!" (which is so true...). Shit like that.
So I stay away from it, so as not to get addicted to yet another dumb internet thing...like Facebook, or fmylife.com, or this....I have room for only one more addiction in my life an I intend for that to be crack. Just kidding kids. Don't do drugs. Ok, maybe just marijuana, but only a bit.
Could you imagine if there was something like Twitter around in the Middle Ages? Or the French Revolution? Or various other times in history where this technology has no business being?
O My giddy God, that would have been so fucking hilarious.....seriously picture it:
Hey there! KingLouisXVI is using Twitter.
guess they weren't kidding.
11:43 PM July 14th 1789 from Web
just realized my country is planning to storm the Bastille by reading the ParisMob twitter page. C'est une blague? Oui je pense.
7:56 PM July 13th 1789 from Web
maybe I should stop taxing the shit out of poor people....nah.
8:43 AM July 12th 1789 from Web
person in charge of handing me underwear gave me the uncomfortable pair + found rooms i never knew about in Versailles.
3:23 PM July 11th 1789 from Web
apparently food is short in Paris. Marie just told some whiners to got eat cake. FUCK YA!
5:54 PM July 8th 1789 from Web
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ok I had way too much fun doing that, and I've accidentally let you all see how much of a nerd I am. (I use the term "you all" very loosely).
Now I should probably get off this and do something constructive with my life, like all the 10 more pages of an essay have to finish. But I don't want to. I'll get the shakes and start twitching and have all the classic signs of withdrawal.
Plus history essays about women suffrage in Canada aren't the most interesting things to write.
GAH.
Must.. rip. self ...away... from. blogge...
People are going crazy over this thinger, and I don't get it. Are they just super psyched that they can, in great detail (or as much detail as you can fit into 140 characters or less), chronicle their life as it occurs? Yes I think that must be it. People can't go around announcing to everyone their life's story, so Twitter is the next best thing.
But I will never get it. No sir, not I. I do not want to be a tweeting twit or whatever they're called.
I mean really, do I ever need to let people know what I'm doing at all moments of the day? No.
Maybe if I was doing something worth updating people on every five minutes like fighting an epic battle in Antarctica against rabid penguins or sky diving from the International Space Station (which wouldn't work, I know....but could you just imagine?) I would get it, but as it is all I'd have to put up is "shit, my prof's mic isn't working again and I can't hear her tiny mouse voice because I'm not sitting in the front row" or "bkdwiuf I'm drunk and Metric is whoaaaa awesomeee..." or "at this point, ALL I WANT OUT OF LIFE IS TO RIDE THE NEW DOUBLE DECKER BUSES THAT ARE CRUISING THE TRANSIT SYSTEM!" (which is so true...). Shit like that.
So I stay away from it, so as not to get addicted to yet another dumb internet thing...like Facebook, or fmylife.com, or this....I have room for only one more addiction in my life an I intend for that to be crack. Just kidding kids. Don't do drugs. Ok, maybe just marijuana, but only a bit.
Could you imagine if there was something like Twitter around in the Middle Ages? Or the French Revolution? Or various other times in history where this technology has no business being?
O My giddy God, that would have been so fucking hilarious.....seriously picture it:
Hey there! KingLouisXVI is using Twitter.
guess they weren't kidding.
11:43 PM July 14th 1789 from Web
just realized my country is planning to storm the Bastille by reading the ParisMob twitter page. C'est une blague? Oui je pense.
7:56 PM July 13th 1789 from Web
maybe I should stop taxing the shit out of poor people....nah.
8:43 AM July 12th 1789 from Web
person in charge of handing me underwear gave me the uncomfortable pair + found rooms i never knew about in Versailles.
3:23 PM July 11th 1789 from Web
apparently food is short in Paris. Marie just told some whiners to got eat cake. FUCK YA!
5:54 PM July 8th 1789 from Web
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ok I had way too much fun doing that, and I've accidentally let you all see how much of a nerd I am. (I use the term "you all" very loosely).
Now I should probably get off this and do something constructive with my life, like all the 10 more pages of an essay have to finish. But I don't want to. I'll get the shakes and start twitching and have all the classic signs of withdrawal.
Plus history essays about women suffrage in Canada aren't the most interesting things to write.
GAH.
Must.. rip. self ...away... from. blogge...
Thursday, March 5, 2009
coffee, assignments, skipping....fml
I am a silly foolish girl who has had what is likely the equivalent of her mass in coffee this week.
And imagine, despite all the coffee, I haven't won Roll Up the Rim once.....BOO....
Yesterday I told someone the reason why I don't allow myself to skip classes. It is a very good reason. I don't skip even if the lecture could potentially be the death of me, because once upon a time in elementary school, I said to myself "What is the harm of just procrastinating this once? I'll never do it again....." Since that day, I have literally never stopped procrastinating.
So if I ever think to myself, "why not just skip this once?" I may NEVER GO TO SCHOOL AGAIN.
Well, it happened this morning that my serious procrastinating problem caused me to skip lecture. I was sitting on my couch, furiously battling sleep and willing my assignment I started in the wee hours of the morning to write itself instead.
And now, I'm thinking I never want to attend the lecture I missed again.
Funny how that works....
And imagine, despite all the coffee, I haven't won Roll Up the Rim once.....BOO....
Yesterday I told someone the reason why I don't allow myself to skip classes. It is a very good reason. I don't skip even if the lecture could potentially be the death of me, because once upon a time in elementary school, I said to myself "What is the harm of just procrastinating this once? I'll never do it again....." Since that day, I have literally never stopped procrastinating.
So if I ever think to myself, "why not just skip this once?" I may NEVER GO TO SCHOOL AGAIN.
Well, it happened this morning that my serious procrastinating problem caused me to skip lecture. I was sitting on my couch, furiously battling sleep and willing my assignment I started in the wee hours of the morning to write itself instead.
And now, I'm thinking I never want to attend the lecture I missed again.
Funny how that works....
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
I say SIT. No essays please.
Happy March.
March holds no interest for me anymore, since I am no longer in high school, so I don't get March Break anymore. So really, what is the point of March? Exactly, there is no point.
At least two of my four calenders are in agreement as to what I should do this month:
Canadian Wildlife Foundation Calender: "Sometimes the most vital and urgent thing you can do is take a complete rest" - Ashleigh Brilliant
Zen Calender: "Just sit and see what happens." - Buddha maybe? I dunno...
So I can only deduce from them that I'm supposed to sit and rest ALL MONTH, for the sake of my own health, and see what happens. Unfortunately I can already tell you what will happen if I 'just sit' all month long.....I'll fail out of school and my skin could quite possibly start grafting to whatever surface I sit on for those thirty-one days. And that would suck. To the maxx. So thanks Buddha and Ms. Brilliant for not being so brilliant after all.
Nevertheless, I'm taking the advice to heart, and I am sitting here on the couch like a lazy thing on lazy tablets, not doing the essay I have due later today. It is in severe danger of not being done, and I blame that entirely on 50% of my calenders. It's not my fault if I'm easily influenced to do stupid things by quotes I see.
March holds no interest for me anymore, since I am no longer in high school, so I don't get March Break anymore. So really, what is the point of March? Exactly, there is no point.
At least two of my four calenders are in agreement as to what I should do this month:
Canadian Wildlife Foundation Calender: "Sometimes the most vital and urgent thing you can do is take a complete rest" - Ashleigh Brilliant
Zen Calender: "Just sit and see what happens." - Buddha maybe? I dunno...
So I can only deduce from them that I'm supposed to sit and rest ALL MONTH, for the sake of my own health, and see what happens. Unfortunately I can already tell you what will happen if I 'just sit' all month long.....I'll fail out of school and my skin could quite possibly start grafting to whatever surface I sit on for those thirty-one days. And that would suck. To the maxx. So thanks Buddha and Ms. Brilliant for not being so brilliant after all.
Nevertheless, I'm taking the advice to heart, and I am sitting here on the couch like a lazy thing on lazy tablets, not doing the essay I have due later today. It is in severe danger of not being done, and I blame that entirely on 50% of my calenders. It's not my fault if I'm easily influenced to do stupid things by quotes I see.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
fuck it. I'm screwed anyways.
This is what I do when I need need neeeeeed to be working. I blogge.
That paper I mentioned before is about two sentences longer than it was at the time I said "and I'm so screwed."
So I've made myself a coffee in the hopes caffeine will persuade me to get 'er dun. HA. that's a laugh. All caffeine persuades me to do is shake my legs uncontrollably and drum the beat of "Run to the Hills" on the nearest surface.
It is this and other evidence that has lead me to be quite concerned about my sanity.
On a different note, tomorrow is Friday the 13th. ooooo. ominous.
And guess what I'll be doing?
Ya that's right, I'll be in a plane. Flying through the air. No biggy.
Seriously, I've flown on a friday the 13th before, and I'm still here, so I'm not worried in the least. (PLEASE knock on wood on my behalf upon reading this).
I'm heading to the sunny California for my reading week. Goodbye winter, hello beach, UV rays and the inevitable sun burn. Hey, I'm a pasty white Canadian....it doesn't even make a difference that my mother is fully of Mediterranean background, I get lobster-esque at the slightest hint of sun. Of course, it doesn't help that I am in complete denial of this and often "forget" to put on sunscreen. Like in Cuba last year. My most memorable souvenir was the tomato skin I acquired and the constant pain I was in because of it.
Anyhoo. After the 13th comes the 14th, and you all know what that means: Valentines Day.
HATE IT.
Mostly becuase I'm a bitter, bitter old soul who probably got dumped on vday in a previous life. Also because it is really just a holiday invented so stores could sell a bunch of roses and chocolate and stupid teddies that say "BE MINE" when you stomp on their hands. And if you're with someone, it's not like you can just ignore it, because....well, I suppose you could ignore it, but then someone might end up crying.
Even Facebook is jumping on the Valentines wagon. When you navigate to anybody's profile, the first thing you see is a link to give your friend a Valentine gift. YAY. So I gave one friend a gift becuase she came on MSN and was like "give me a gift bitch." How could I not oblige when she asks like that? So she got a thong with the personal message be mine? if not, fine be that way, and a Jason-style face mask with the message Remember: USE PROTECTION! Love _____. (because of course I use my real name with thems. obvs.).
I can't wait to see what she gave me in return.
Well, that's about all I got.
Have a very merry unbirthday. Or birthday if it is your birthday.
That paper I mentioned before is about two sentences longer than it was at the time I said "and I'm so screwed."
So I've made myself a coffee in the hopes caffeine will persuade me to get 'er dun. HA. that's a laugh. All caffeine persuades me to do is shake my legs uncontrollably and drum the beat of "Run to the Hills" on the nearest surface.
It is this and other evidence that has lead me to be quite concerned about my sanity.
On a different note, tomorrow is Friday the 13th. ooooo. ominous.
And guess what I'll be doing?
Ya that's right, I'll be in a plane. Flying through the air. No biggy.
Seriously, I've flown on a friday the 13th before, and I'm still here, so I'm not worried in the least. (PLEASE knock on wood on my behalf upon reading this).
I'm heading to the sunny California for my reading week. Goodbye winter, hello beach, UV rays and the inevitable sun burn. Hey, I'm a pasty white Canadian....it doesn't even make a difference that my mother is fully of Mediterranean background, I get lobster-esque at the slightest hint of sun. Of course, it doesn't help that I am in complete denial of this and often "forget" to put on sunscreen. Like in Cuba last year. My most memorable souvenir was the tomato skin I acquired and the constant pain I was in because of it.
Anyhoo. After the 13th comes the 14th, and you all know what that means: Valentines Day.
HATE IT.
Mostly becuase I'm a bitter, bitter old soul who probably got dumped on vday in a previous life. Also because it is really just a holiday invented so stores could sell a bunch of roses and chocolate and stupid teddies that say "BE MINE" when you stomp on their hands. And if you're with someone, it's not like you can just ignore it, because....well, I suppose you could ignore it, but then someone might end up crying.
Even Facebook is jumping on the Valentines wagon. When you navigate to anybody's profile, the first thing you see is a link to give your friend a Valentine gift. YAY. So I gave one friend a gift becuase she came on MSN and was like "give me a gift bitch." How could I not oblige when she asks like that? So she got a thong with the personal message be mine? if not, fine be that way, and a Jason-style face mask with the message Remember: USE PROTECTION! Love _____. (because of course I use my real name with thems. obvs.).
I can't wait to see what she gave me in return.
Well, that's about all I got.
Have a very merry unbirthday. Or birthday if it is your birthday.
Friday, December 12, 2008
I say, freedom doth taste of gloriousness
once upon a time there was an exam. AND I KICKED ITS ASS.
well, ok, so I don't actually know if I did well, but I think I may have perhaps passed. Which was definitely what I was going for.
And I even studied. In my own, nearly useless way. It involves me spending broken intervals of time (broken by coffee making breaks, coffee drinking breaks, coffee buying breaks, and then the inevitable thousand times I need to pee after consuming so much coffee) reading my notes and text books whilst my brain, who is supposed to be interpreting the words on the page, thinks about other, reeeeally more interesting things. Like how it would feel to punch through a wall, or how much I hate buses. Or my brain just outright falls asleep while my eyes keep to their reading duty. It's eerie, I turn pages and everything, even though my brain functions are next to zero.
O, the buses in my city are on strike and that's why I hate them so much. I dunno if I mentioned that before...anywho, so no buses means that I am either restricted to going places within walking distance or getting a ride. Well, university is much farther than I could walk without getting abducted or dying in a snowdrift, so I had to get a ride from the mother. And i got to school at 7:46am - for my 2pm exam. Well, that's just great right? Six blissful hours of studying more.
I got coffee a few times, moved from spot to spot around campus as I got bored of my surroundings, and eventually, I ended up on the fourth floor of the library. The library is this magical land full of books of every colour and size (that are all completely useless), and where I swear they pump sedatives out of the air vents, because it doesn't matter how much coffee I arm myself with, I can't stay awake. Perfect place to pretend I'm studying and catch a few winks.
Well, I fell asleep with my head wedged between the pages of one textbook praising neoliberalist global trade (fuuuuuun) and my hand saving a page in another talking about "globalization from below" (even funnnnner) and I had a dream. I dreamt I was miniature, as in the size of a Spiderman action figure, and I was given the vital task of globalizing from below, because I was miniature. And apparently that's what miniature humans do?
Well, it freaked me out and I woke up. For that reason and also because my face was painfully mashed into the spine of the textbook.
That is where studying gets you, creepy dreams in a smelly, sleep inducing library. And i think a librarian was spying on me. Maybe I was talking in my sleep. It's been known to happen. A lot.
And that's the saga of my exam. Except for the part when I went and wrote it, but that part is much too mind-numbing to describe. It was just a boatload of writing, some pausing to frantically remember all the not-useless things I studied, and then more writing.
And now I'm done.
I was going to start job hunting and christmas shopping, but there's the whole no buses thing... FUCK BUSES. So I'm pretty well confined to the general area of my neighbourhood. I could get a job at at the grocery store.... and buy fresh produce and curly fries for everyone for Christmas. And coldcuts! yes that would go over well, especially since the presents would be well and rancid by the time anyone opened them. But I think that just adds a certain je ne sais quoi, n'est pas?
O well, no sense in bitching about something I can't change. but I'm going to ANYWAYS!
I don't like this being stuck without transportation thing, not one little bit.
I despise it so much, I'm throwing a fit.
I say, eat shit.
And start the buses again.
before the city goes insane.
have you seen the traffic these days?
it's a wonder we can see the sun through all the extra car generated haze.
so FUCK.
I get in touch with my poetic side when I feel passionately about something.
right, well suck on that.
and bbye.
well, ok, so I don't actually know if I did well, but I think I may have perhaps passed. Which was definitely what I was going for.
And I even studied. In my own, nearly useless way. It involves me spending broken intervals of time (broken by coffee making breaks, coffee drinking breaks, coffee buying breaks, and then the inevitable thousand times I need to pee after consuming so much coffee) reading my notes and text books whilst my brain, who is supposed to be interpreting the words on the page, thinks about other, reeeeally more interesting things. Like how it would feel to punch through a wall, or how much I hate buses. Or my brain just outright falls asleep while my eyes keep to their reading duty. It's eerie, I turn pages and everything, even though my brain functions are next to zero.
O, the buses in my city are on strike and that's why I hate them so much. I dunno if I mentioned that before...anywho, so no buses means that I am either restricted to going places within walking distance or getting a ride. Well, university is much farther than I could walk without getting abducted or dying in a snowdrift, so I had to get a ride from the mother. And i got to school at 7:46am - for my 2pm exam. Well, that's just great right? Six blissful hours of studying more.
I got coffee a few times, moved from spot to spot around campus as I got bored of my surroundings, and eventually, I ended up on the fourth floor of the library. The library is this magical land full of books of every colour and size (that are all completely useless), and where I swear they pump sedatives out of the air vents, because it doesn't matter how much coffee I arm myself with, I can't stay awake. Perfect place to pretend I'm studying and catch a few winks.
Well, I fell asleep with my head wedged between the pages of one textbook praising neoliberalist global trade (fuuuuuun) and my hand saving a page in another talking about "globalization from below" (even funnnnner) and I had a dream. I dreamt I was miniature, as in the size of a Spiderman action figure, and I was given the vital task of globalizing from below, because I was miniature. And apparently that's what miniature humans do?
Well, it freaked me out and I woke up. For that reason and also because my face was painfully mashed into the spine of the textbook.
That is where studying gets you, creepy dreams in a smelly, sleep inducing library. And i think a librarian was spying on me. Maybe I was talking in my sleep. It's been known to happen. A lot.
And that's the saga of my exam. Except for the part when I went and wrote it, but that part is much too mind-numbing to describe. It was just a boatload of writing, some pausing to frantically remember all the not-useless things I studied, and then more writing.
And now I'm done.
I was going to start job hunting and christmas shopping, but there's the whole no buses thing... FUCK BUSES. So I'm pretty well confined to the general area of my neighbourhood. I could get a job at at the grocery store.... and buy fresh produce and curly fries for everyone for Christmas. And coldcuts! yes that would go over well, especially since the presents would be well and rancid by the time anyone opened them. But I think that just adds a certain je ne sais quoi, n'est pas?
O well, no sense in bitching about something I can't change. but I'm going to ANYWAYS!
I don't like this being stuck without transportation thing, not one little bit.
I despise it so much, I'm throwing a fit.
I say, eat shit.
And start the buses again.
before the city goes insane.
have you seen the traffic these days?
it's a wonder we can see the sun through all the extra car generated haze.
so FUCK.
I get in touch with my poetic side when I feel passionately about something.
right, well suck on that.
and bbye.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
i ran into the hangman.... he said it's time to die.
I am in very real, significant danger of flunking the course I have an exam for tomorrow. I am also listening to NEIL YOUNG just now, and he said it's time to die. Great song. Bad omen.
My brother is doing some sort of interpretive dance/diva thing to the song "Old Man." It is distracting me from writing, which is distracting me from studying. And studying is distracting me from living with what little sanity I once had. It's pretty ridiculous how bonkers I feel just now. debilitatingly bonkers.
I believe exams were invented by some inhuman sadist who despised the youth of his day (yes, it was definitely a man....how else could he be so stupid?) and wished to see them all go insane. well, its working.
well, bbye.
My brother is doing some sort of interpretive dance/diva thing to the song "Old Man." It is distracting me from writing, which is distracting me from studying. And studying is distracting me from living with what little sanity I once had. It's pretty ridiculous how bonkers I feel just now. debilitatingly bonkers.
I believe exams were invented by some inhuman sadist who despised the youth of his day (yes, it was definitely a man....how else could he be so stupid?) and wished to see them all go insane. well, its working.
well, bbye.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Shall i compare thee to a summer's day? Have thou lookethed out the window recently?
We have a shitload of snow. It's well beautiful until you have to shovel it. Then it is rather heavy. I was clearing my driveway at about 4 o'clock, which meant it was practically pitch black outside, and I went a little nuts...I'm not sure why though. the neighbours must've all thought I was real special when i started singing all the songs that came on my Ipod at the top of my voice. Then I danced. Then I kicked my shovel into a snow bank.
It was a fun fun time.
When I came inside, I amused myself by watching a bus trying to get unstuck in front of my house. It just kinda floundered around on the snow covered road for 10 minutes, spinning its wheels to no avail. Then suddenly it was free. After the bus was gone, some complete pratt decided to bolt across the road. Well, obviously, it was slippery. But he somehow missed that memo. Or maybe watching a bus slip and slide all over the road made him forget....in any case, he started running. Then, he started flying when his feet flew out from under him and into the air. He probably felt smart when he landed straight on his ass.
Again, fun fun time.
so, yes. now I have an exam on Friday and I haven't started studying yet.
I really don't want to.
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
o, don't they all? seriously Shakespeare. If you have issues with the woman you're in love with, do you honestly have to criticize her for not being able to fly?
haha. I'm sure that's not exactly what he meant.
nightttt.
It was a fun fun time.
When I came inside, I amused myself by watching a bus trying to get unstuck in front of my house. It just kinda floundered around on the snow covered road for 10 minutes, spinning its wheels to no avail. Then suddenly it was free. After the bus was gone, some complete pratt decided to bolt across the road. Well, obviously, it was slippery. But he somehow missed that memo. Or maybe watching a bus slip and slide all over the road made him forget....in any case, he started running. Then, he started flying when his feet flew out from under him and into the air. He probably felt smart when he landed straight on his ass.
Again, fun fun time.
so, yes. now I have an exam on Friday and I haven't started studying yet.
I really don't want to.
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
o, don't they all? seriously Shakespeare. If you have issues with the woman you're in love with, do you honestly have to criticize her for not being able to fly?
haha. I'm sure that's not exactly what he meant.
nightttt.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
ornaments are secret sex adicts
I'm bored. and I have too much time on my hands. I can guarantee this posting an entry everyday thing is not going to last. just til stop needing to study.
the fam and I put up our Christmas tree today. I still have the same decorations I made when I was five and loved glitter (ok, I still love glitter, but only when I'm shoving it down someone's shirt) and it made its way onto everything. there's this one pretty hideous one that may at some point have looked something like a dove in flight, but sadly, the tissue paper making up its wings got completely crushed between an excited nutcracker and a horny angel going at it in storage over the summer. Now it is a dove with clipped wings. Actually, kind of without wings all together. it gets a spot of honour at the back of the tree.
here is a poem:
we put up a tree
it is taller than me
which isn't at all hard to be
and i couldn't put the horny angel on the top
because she and the nutcracker just wouldn't stop
it was going to be longer, but I suddenly lost interest.
anyways, you get the gist of what was going on.
kay. now I'm bored of this. How fickle my focus is...
bbye.
the fam and I put up our Christmas tree today. I still have the same decorations I made when I was five and loved glitter (ok, I still love glitter, but only when I'm shoving it down someone's shirt) and it made its way onto everything. there's this one pretty hideous one that may at some point have looked something like a dove in flight, but sadly, the tissue paper making up its wings got completely crushed between an excited nutcracker and a horny angel going at it in storage over the summer. Now it is a dove with clipped wings. Actually, kind of without wings all together. it gets a spot of honour at the back of the tree.
here is a poem:
we put up a tree
it is taller than me
which isn't at all hard to be
and i couldn't put the horny angel on the top
because she and the nutcracker just wouldn't stop
it was going to be longer, but I suddenly lost interest.
anyways, you get the gist of what was going on.
kay. now I'm bored of this. How fickle my focus is...
bbye.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
this sanity will be the death of me
ok, I ask "Does that make sense?" a whole lot more that is strictly necessary. But it is only because I really and truly don't understand what constitutes something being rational and sane as opposed to what makes something pure, unadultered insanity. Decisions I make, fantasies I have, my reasons for doing what I do....I'm never sure if they are products of a properly functioning mind or if I'm doing all this because I have a brain that is living slightly in an alternate universe where being sane doesn't exist. I have a sneaking suspicion it is the latter, though it does confuse me quite a bit.
Does that make sense? hahaha.
I don't think it does. but whatever, I don't mind being a loon of the first water. Except that I do. sometimes.
now, if you're still reading, and I haven't lost you (I've lost myself, but honestly, whatelse is new?), I'd first like to wonder at why you started reading in the firstplace, and I would secondly like to change the subject.
all my studying paid off I think.
what studying?
the non-existant studying I did.
I actually fell asleep.
and then I woke up at 5 in the morning and decided I needed more sleep.
Awful ainit?
o well. I went into my exam and I did a marathon of writing. my hand bloody hurts now. I think I sprained it somewhere between writing about Louis XIV and babbling about the significance of the Reformation. Louis was a twat. but a very Absolutist twat with a very large, very ultra-cool-with-knobs house. I've been there....and it was tres malade, as the French would say, if they were trying to be American but still refined. hahaha. I amuse myself toooo much.
i'm also terribly sorry about my impromtu little rant about Canadian politics. But it is so fun to complain about thems peoples in parliament because, the beauty of this country is that it doesn't matter what they do, it will always be a fuck up to someone.
.....
so this girl I need to apologize to, she's got a blog. and ya...I'm not sure why I said that, I'm just thinking onto my keyboard. like Mozart. except not. right, so I'm actually the absolute worst at opening up to people. I'm worse than anybody you'll meet. Ever. I don't take pride in that by any means. It makes it really difficult to talk to people about anything real. Unless I'm drunk. get me liquored up and I'll tell you anything. I'll do the things that inhibitions prohibit me from doing regularly.
ok. that's all I've got. but not really, my hand is just tired and sprained.
Does that make sense? hahaha.
I don't think it does. but whatever, I don't mind being a loon of the first water. Except that I do. sometimes.
now, if you're still reading, and I haven't lost you (I've lost myself, but honestly, whatelse is new?), I'd first like to wonder at why you started reading in the firstplace, and I would secondly like to change the subject.
all my studying paid off I think.
what studying?
the non-existant studying I did.
I actually fell asleep.
and then I woke up at 5 in the morning and decided I needed more sleep.
Awful ainit?
o well. I went into my exam and I did a marathon of writing. my hand bloody hurts now. I think I sprained it somewhere between writing about Louis XIV and babbling about the significance of the Reformation. Louis was a twat. but a very Absolutist twat with a very large, very ultra-cool-with-knobs house. I've been there....and it was tres malade, as the French would say, if they were trying to be American but still refined. hahaha. I amuse myself toooo much.
i'm also terribly sorry about my impromtu little rant about Canadian politics. But it is so fun to complain about thems peoples in parliament because, the beauty of this country is that it doesn't matter what they do, it will always be a fuck up to someone.
.....
so this girl I need to apologize to, she's got a blog. and ya...I'm not sure why I said that, I'm just thinking onto my keyboard. like Mozart. except not. right, so I'm actually the absolute worst at opening up to people. I'm worse than anybody you'll meet. Ever. I don't take pride in that by any means. It makes it really difficult to talk to people about anything real. Unless I'm drunk. get me liquored up and I'll tell you anything. I'll do the things that inhibitions prohibit me from doing regularly.
ok. that's all I've got. but not really, my hand is just tired and sprained.
Friday, December 5, 2008
the art of doing EXACTLY what you're trying not to do.
I realllly should be studying right now. I have an exam who's material spans about three millennia imminently approaching (in fact it's in about 24 hours) yet I am on this stupid computer doing exactly what I said I wouldn't do...alternately writing this and playing tetris. ok. sad I know.
But don't you ever feel just completely unmotivated to do what should be done? Like right now, not only am I putting off the massive amounts of studying I need to do to get even a decent mark in this class, I am also putting off retrieving my toast from the toaster. Does that even make sense? No it doesn't. I want toast. And I want it to be at least somewhat hot while I butter it so why am I still sitting on the couch pretending I didn't hear it pop?
Anyways, enough about toast, as delicious as it is.
why did I start this blog?
I think only one of me really wanted to, the other is still looking on as I write this shaking her head at how lame and semi-emo and self-indulgent this is. In any case, my reasons were somewhat influenced by my need for a new way to procrastinate from studying. What, you think it is a coincidence that it is exam season and all of the sudden I neeeeed a blog? Well, I'm sure it's not.
Are people even going to be at all interested?
who am I asking these questions to.... let's see...all Zero of the people who have viewed my shit.
ok. enough of this introspective humbug. I can only deal with so much of that during the day. At night though....it's quite another story. I go all crazy insomniac. It's terrible.
so....Parliament is suspended eh? well, there's some procrastination if I ever saw it. What exactly are they going to be doing for their little six week vacation? Important shit no doubt. Like maybe deciding what to do with the budget so that.... no wait, you need Parliament for that. nevermind.
anyhow.
bbye.
But don't you ever feel just completely unmotivated to do what should be done? Like right now, not only am I putting off the massive amounts of studying I need to do to get even a decent mark in this class, I am also putting off retrieving my toast from the toaster. Does that even make sense? No it doesn't. I want toast. And I want it to be at least somewhat hot while I butter it so why am I still sitting on the couch pretending I didn't hear it pop?
Anyways, enough about toast, as delicious as it is.
why did I start this blog?
I think only one of me really wanted to, the other is still looking on as I write this shaking her head at how lame and semi-emo and self-indulgent this is. In any case, my reasons were somewhat influenced by my need for a new way to procrastinate from studying. What, you think it is a coincidence that it is exam season and all of the sudden I neeeeed a blog? Well, I'm sure it's not.
Are people even going to be at all interested?
who am I asking these questions to.... let's see...all Zero of the people who have viewed my shit.
ok. enough of this introspective humbug. I can only deal with so much of that during the day. At night though....it's quite another story. I go all crazy insomniac. It's terrible.
so....Parliament is suspended eh? well, there's some procrastination if I ever saw it. What exactly are they going to be doing for their little six week vacation? Important shit no doubt. Like maybe deciding what to do with the budget so that.... no wait, you need Parliament for that. nevermind.
anyhow.
bbye.
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