"The Herald Of The Morn"

No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
    --Shakespeare's Romeo and Juilet

See? I'm not entirely nocturnal. By the time I get up the sun may already be on its way down, but I actually do get to see quite a bit of sunshine throughout the day...even if it IS at the END of my day.

Quote of the Moment:
"All the vegetables were happy with their prom dates, except Gary who had to take a leek."
    -- LaserPink's Screenname
...

Try Living In My House

In my house, we have a LAN. My brodder uses the main computer downstairs to which my computer is connected to from upstairs. Therefore, being the avid computer users that we are, if we ever need to communicate with each other we can just message each other using MSN. This has proved to be a very useful setup, especially at night when it is no longer an option to yell at each other while the rest of the family is sleeping...

Me - how come I can't access www.xanga.com???
Bro - it hates you
Me - I hate you
Me - I'm going to fart in your room right now...enjoy
Bro - oops! there goes your network cable
Me - LoL (But I'm sure you could hear it anyway)
Bro - so did half the neighbourhood
Me - @_:@

Me - shouldn't you be in bed?
Bro - shouldn't you be studying?

Bro - i think the milk sour
Me - so don't drink it
Bro - ...yet i'm still having it
Me - why are we still awake?
Bro - because we need to be up early tomorrow
Me - that's RIGHT.
Me - I'm soooo dead
Me - any not-sour food down there?
Bro - nope
Bro - none at all
Me - damn it
Me - I'm hungry
Me - make something?
Bro - i just had cereal
Me - aren't you still hungry?
Bro - no
Me - damn you.
Bro - i actually wanna poo now
Me - that's lovely

It is lovely, isn't it?

More English Math

my·self - pron. My normal or healthy condition or state: I'm feeling myself again.
health·y - adj. Sizable; considerable: a healthy portion of potatoes; a healthy raise in salary.
con·sid·er·a·ble - adj. Worthy of consideration; significant: The economy was a considerable issue.
sig·nif·i·cant - adj. Having or likely to have a major effect; important: a significant change in the tax laws.
im·por·tant - adj Having or suggesting a consciousness of high position or authority; authoritative: recited the decree with an important air.
au·thor·i·ta·tive - adj. Of acknowledged accuracy or excellence; highly reliable: an authoritative account.
re·li·a·ble - adj. Capable of being relied on; dependable: a reliable assistant; a reliable car.
de·pend·a·ble - adj. Trustworthy.
trust - n. Reliance on something in the future; hope.
hope - n. Trust; confidence.

if myself = healthy = considerable = significant = important = authoritative = reliable = dependable = trust = hope,
then myself = important, myself = reliable, myself = dependable, myself = trust, and myself = hope,
so
∴ to be myself is not only important, but being myself also makes me reliable and dependable, and to have trust in myself gives me hope.

Language Proven Mathematically

al·ways - adv. For all time; forever: They will always be friends.
for·ev·er - n. A seemingly very long time: It has taken forever to resolve these problems.
seem·ing·ly - adv. Apparent; ostensible: The story's ending was seemingly perfect.
ap·par·ent·ly - adv. Appearing as such but not necessarily so; seeming: The size was apparently not right.
un·nec·es·sar·i·ly - adv. Not necessary; needless. The violence was unnecessary.
need·less - adj. Not needed or wished for; unnecessary. Her rude words were needless.

if always = forever = seemingly = apparently = unnecessarily = not necessary = needless,
then always = needless,
and if needless ≈ irrelevant,
then always ≈ irrelevant,
and
∴ to say always is pretty much irrelevant.

The Power Of Compassion

One filled with such pure compassion for the human race is powerful indeed; from over 100 metres away, the Dalai Lama's appearance on stage moved more than myself to tears...

On this gloomy April day, the rain fell in torrents and the wind gusted fiercely as the temperature hovered around the freezing point. Inside-out and broken umbrellas filled the garbage cans and littered the sidewalks surrounding the SkyDome. Due to some security reasons, the line-ups to get in stretched back from the gate doors, wound themselves among the abandoned umbrellas, and overflowed onto the streets. Yet soaked to the bone and shivering, the crowds stood patiently, offering each other warmth from huddles and smiles, knowing that the person inside that they had all come to see would offer them the same and would encourage no less.

Half an hour behind schedule, everyone was finally seated and the proceedings began. Twelve Tibetan monks chanted, their voices reverberating throughout the Dome; three Tibetan dancers performed, their singing, laughing, and spinning invoking good-luck of an ancient sort; and finally, teacher and activist, Justin Trudeau stood at the podium to introduce the much anticipated guest and speaker.

"The words I wanted to use to introduce His Holiness seemed to be used out these days. 'Love': I say 'I love my shampoo.' 'Freedom': it's the newest convertible on the market. 'Fulfillment': I can apparently find it in my yogurt."

At the conclusion of Trudeau's humble, gracious, and accessible preamble, the Dalai Lama walked on stage adorned in his monk robes and his hands together in prayer as he bowed to his captivated audience that was on its feet. Tears escaped me as His Holiness touched his cheek to Justin's and placed a white, silk sash around his neck as a thank-you for the well-spoken introduction. The Dalai Lama then made his way to one of the two white armchairs set up centre stage where he sunk into his seat--not like a nearly seventy-year old who is sore and stiff, but like six-year old with a love of bouncy cushions. As his thirty thousand onlookers applauded his presence, he proceeded to wave and wave--he even shielded his eyes with both hands from the bright lights above in order to see into the depths around the stage and to be sure he waved to everyone out there, welcoming us all and smiling all the while.

After the applause quieted down and he motioned for us to be seated, he spoke his first phrase to us in Tibetan, turning to his translator seated in the second armchair to relay his message in English. Unfortunately the translator's microphone didn't work. After a second and third attempt, it seemed like His Holiness's speech was doomed to be delayed for yet another period of time. But instead, the Dalai Lama turned to the audience and smiled,

"I guess since my voice works better, I'll use mine."

And for the rest of the proceedings, the Dalai Lama addressed us in his best English and conveyed his message of peace and compassion to the thousands of eager listeners. His humour made us laugh, his wisdom made us nod, and his own compassion for his fellow human beings inspired us from within.

"Destroying your enemy will not make you better--it is self-destructive."

"Compassion is biological. A baby receives compassion from those around it. Without compassion from its mother or father, it will not survive. We all know how to be compassionate."

"You do not talk 'peace' with your friends. Your friends are your friends and you get along. You only talk 'peace' with someone you do not have peace with--your enemy."

"My physicist friend tried to explain to me physics because I have a keen interest in quantum physics. He is a famous German physicist known all over the world. Really brilliant in physics. While he was teaching me I understood, but as soon as my lesson was over, I forgot and did not understand anymore. Sometimes it is not the teacher, but the student. I am a bad physics student."

"I am not here to offer you answers. I really have nothing to give you. I am just here with you."

After his speech there were questions for him submitted by the audience.

The first: Other than compassion, what other qualities are important to becoming a "good" person?
"Knowledge. Other than compassion, you need knowledge."

And the last, during the answer of which I cried: How can we help you to go home?
"One plane ticket--to Beijing and then transfer to Tibet." *he chuckles*

Despite being a refugee from the country he is the spiritual leader of and having had the Panchen Lama kidnapped from him six years ago and placed under house arrest in an unknown location, the Dalai Lama is still full of smiles, positivity, and, of course, compassion. At the beginning of his appearance the Dalai Lama claimed he had nothing to give his audience, but in truth what he had to offer was invaluable.

Still At It

And there's a reason for it too--Señorita's hogging the blankets. The extra blanket from the next room won't be enough, so I'll have to steal my brother's (he's at school famining right now). See the trouble she makes me go through? It was definitely worth the blog... ;)

At It Again

Exam went well and lunch was definitely worth it on Thursday (there are pictures somewhere to prove it). By the time Dawson dropped me off at home after, I was rounding off my 24th hour of having been awake--it was showing in the fact that it took me two turns of the key before I realized I was turning it the wrong way and was locking myself out each time. By the time I got myself inside and into my room, I had about 30-45 minutes before I had to leave for tutoring. So did I take a nap? Of course not! I changed into scrubs and checked my email/blogsurfed for that time instead. I think I did get to pass out on my bed for about 5 mintues, but by then I had to get up and leave to tutor my kids.

The next five hours I tutored, which wouldn't have been so bad had one of my kids had had his socks on. Oh my god, his feet STANK! They reeked so badly that my little-more-than-whiny cousin who had been tutoring him that day sent him to sit with me (even though I was with another student already) while she ran upstairs to hide. She wouldn't come down until after he left and both the basement and stairway had been Lysol-ed thoroughly. I have to admit though, it was pretty bad. My other cousin had opened the window to try to vent the stench but that didn't help at all. And even though Stinky Feet was sitting at the table next to mine, I had a tough time not only concentrating, but deciding whether or not I would breathe through my nose and smell it or breathe through my mouth and taste it. Blech.

Anyway, to return from my digression...

After tutoring, I headed to meet Dimps at the theatre to screen Thirteen Going on Thirty with Boo and Boo. I still can't believe that movie got us girls to well up so much! It wasn't all that great of a movie (though it wasn't that bad of a movie either); it was probably because we were all tired--or really because we all knew and shared Jennifer's angst. By the time that was over, it was one o'clock in the AM and my 35th hour of being awake--but that didn't stop me. My computer-repair and maintenance guy came over to punch holes in my computer (as he called it) and I felt the need to stay up and keep him company--until 4am. Finally I crawled into bed with a book, and managed to read a short story before ultimately passing out cold.

For thirty-eight hours straight (besides my 5 minute crash) I was awake, and so for twelve hours straight, I was blissfully unconscious. So unconscious that I managed to miss 11 calls made to my cell-phone, a number more made to my house phone, and a house call made to my front door by Squiggly (or it could've been to the side--I wouldn't really know). I wish I hadn't needed to sleep that long. Sleep seems like a waste of time. I wish sleep could be injected through a needle or downed from a glass--something quick and painless like that. That way, I'd never have to miss anything on account of having been too tired or asleep. (*Fishy, I am SO sorry I slept in like that and I WILL complete our swap ASAP. I swear I was so excited to give those to you that day!!! I hope you'll forgive me and that you're having house-hunting-luck down there!)

Having experienced all of that just yesterday and the day before, you'd think that by now I'd have learned my lesson and would STOP staying up so late, but what can I say? I'm nocturnal training to live in Japan.
...

Quote of the Moment:
"Oh, I saw your daughter earlier today--the two of them. You know, the original."
    --Ken, fish enthusiast and sushi chef extraordinaire

Jabbering Randomly For The Third Time

I am being HOed...Dr. HOed that is. I am being HOed on the highest level too. Yet my shoulders are still so sore...

You could tell that I was supposed to be studying today by the number of times I posted. I DID manage to get to study with Vin after a LONG while.

Vin is getting a new car--most likely a Mazda 3--so we drooled about cars today while were were supposedly studying.

I drove Shaky's Mazda 3 the other day...and forgot to put it in neutral before getting out (still so sorry, Shaky!!!).

Gas prices got more expensive as I drove home westward tonight.

At home I ate a whole take-out portion of noodles before heading to bed--TK would've been proud.

I haven't talked to TK in a while--the nights have been chat-less.

Señorita chatted on the phone so long the other night, she had to change her phone twice in order to have enough batteries to keep talking. Figures she wasn't talking to me.

Hun-Gee got a new phone the other day that's pretty and that takes pictures.

Vin complains that his textbooks don't have enough pictures in them.

My book has a dog named Bimbo in it.

Sleep? What Is This?

I waived my right to catch a nap when I chose to participate in the below posted conversation. No matter, however, as I feel so energetic after waking-up getting changed this morning. I've already done some calculations, and according to them, I need to earn only five marks on this final in order to be assured a passing grade--short of a downward bell-curve, that is. On the mid-term, five marks could've been earned by answering 2.5 multiple choice questions correctly. Wish me luck! (yes, all 0.49857484 of you.) I WANT COFFEE!!!
...

T-minus thirty minutes to go...

Note to Self: Do NOT join in on 4-way conversations over MSN at 2am when you are SUPPOSED to be cramming for exams!
...

But it was SO worth it:

Los - mel call him davey,,,,he likes that
Me - sure, davey.
Los - haha
Dawson - awwwwwwwwww...you know what i'm capable of los
Me - Davey, Dave, Dawson, I'm susceptible to jumping on the bandwagon
Dimps - davey's cute.
Los - hahaha....holy Dawson is mr aka. im los and davey is the sidekick
Dawson - los is holmes own theatre sidekick
Los - ur tom o's chum
Dawson - you're like that other guys assistant
Me - does that make you that other guy's ass.?

Dawson - mel...you have no funds
Dimps - you can blame that on me too mel since i'm fair game.
Dawson - blame it on thomas
Los - blame it on j mo
Dimps - blame it on the rain....
Dawson - no rain
Los - haha blame it on the rain!
Me - damn you rain!!!
Dimps - i'm working later than usual. fucking gap
Los - fucking gappy rain
Dimps - haha. fuck. fuck it all.

Me - I sent it to you guys, didn't i?
Dawson - i never got
Los - the malvern maroon protege! woohoo
Dawson - watch out now
Dimps - what's to watch?
Me - your mail boxes were probably too full...hold on...
Dimps - holdin...onto what?
Dawson - send it to my rogers: ------@rogers.com
Los - davey_s@hotmale.cum
Los - ewwwww

Me - *posts a picture of Los's blonde bangs from back in the day*
Dawson - i see it. i'm just taking it in
Dimps - taking it in??
Me - LoL
Dawson - i take that back
Dimps - what, do you need to memorize the way the soft golden tendrils frame his face?
Dawson - ok...if thats what you call them
Los - tendrils?
Me - tendrils--that was pretty good
Dimps - haha. whatever.
Dimps - just trying to be sarcastic...with you know, davey taking it in and all
Me - hehehe
Dimps - drinking it in. living it breathing it
Me - LoL ahhh!
Dimps - can't you feel it, he's in love.
Los - ewww i cant look at him when i eat now, hahaha

And we're supposed to all have lunch tomorrow (today). Thank goodness we started this conversation in order to arrange for a later lunch! I don't miss work, but I sure miss these guys.
...

T-minus 5 hours...

Quote of the Moment:
    "Hey! Guess what? ---'s writing his pilot-test today!"
    "Oh really? Is it the written one?"
    -- A conversation between my mother and my aunt; I won't identify who's who...
...

T-minus 8.5 hours to go until exam two...

Stud·y·ing? What Is This?

Go Leafs Go!!! After tonight, I definitely be-Leaf. Two goals within a minute and a half of each other? It was over by the end of the first period. But that didn't stop me, Hun-Gee, Squiggly, or Boo from cozying up in front of the TV to witness the beauty that was game seven. I did feel a little sorry for Lelime when he was ousted after the first period. He had been solid the whole series and was definitely better than that rookie what's-his-name they put in after. I felt bad for him for a while, until I realized that his name meant "The Lime"--and not "The Line" like I'd previously thought up until this point--and then I had a bit of a chuckle to myself and Boobin's answering machine which I religiously called after every period and randomly during commercial breaks. What a game, what a team--Go Leafs Go!!!

I feel like I should be entered into some kind of witness protection program after tonight. Why? I can't tell you. All I can say is that I heard some thing that I shouldn't've heard, and I saw some things that I shouldn't've seen, and though in all due time these things will be rightfully revealed to the rest of the fan-club nation, I can't say a thing until then. I promised Kri... someone that I wouldn't. But it's KILLING me!!!

*sigh* I suppose it's time to hit the books. But really, I don't have the Sense and Sensibility to really be able to absorb The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, or Tom Jones for that matter, and do I really need to know if The Rivals were Frankenstein and "The Chimney Sweeper" or if they were "The Tyger" and "The Fly"? Because "On Sitting Down to Read King Lear Once Again" and witnessing the "Frost at Midnight", I've already come to the conclusion that this exam's going to be a Marriage of Heaven and Hell--it'll be hell to write, but heaven to be finished! *sigh* I can name the texts, but now I'll have to read them...ick

Exam Time = Random Blogging

It's beautiful out and I want to go out and enjoy it, but not only do I have nowhere to go, but I have no one to go with.
...

The JFC convened at Tim Horton's last night for the first time in a while. It's nice to know that we're all back to being so close at hand again. After Squiggly went home, Boo and I stopped at her place to cook up some of her ever-so-addictive cocaine/pasta salad and then headed to my house to enjoy it and enjoy it we did...until after four o'clock in the morning. Our discussions covered everything from abbreviations to overdoses, perforations to performances.

"Laughter is proof of a connection--a deeper bond."

Boo and I laugh aloud and often. Boo is irreplaceable.

I'm supposed to be studying. Instead, here I am blogging and taking pictures of my gorgeous red hair that I can't share with anyone until Brodder comes home to install my uploading programs. I should really learn how to take care of pooter stuff by myself.

Note to Self: learn how to take care of pooter stuff by myself.

Wake me up inside
Wake me up inside
Call my name and save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become...

...Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life...

...Don't try to fix me--I'm not broken...(Evanescence)

"When something is meant to happen, the whole world will conspire to see that it does."
    --Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Pet Peeve: When people foward those chain-emails that come enclosed within billions of other forwards that claim to give you money for every person that you send it to. They've been around for years now, and have ANY of you seen a cheque yet? I think not. Get the hint.

Go Leafs Go. Boobin Be-Leafs. Belfour is a wall--that man is a machine that should be mounted on a pedestal for all to gather around and admire. Go Leafs Go.

I am going to study my readings now. However, studying can mean reading in bed which in turn can sometimes lead to an unexpected afternoon nap. If this is what happens during the course of my studying, I will not fight fate. It was destined to be so, and you can't argue with Destiny. ;)

It's hard to deal with the fact that the things you need are not always the things that you want; and that the things you want are not always the things that you can have. They say that honesty is the best policy, but what if being honest puts you somewhere where you don't want to be?

A single moment can change an entire year, and a year can end in a single moment. The worst is when that moment ends up lasting for days as it repeats itself in your mind's eye over and over, and everytime you wonder why it didn't work out differently, or why it worked out as it did, or wishing that it never happened at all. I'm sorry.
...

"Goodbye" - Alicia Keys

How do you love someone
That hurts you oh so bad
With intentions good
Was all he ever had

But how do I let go when I've
Loved him for so long and I've
Given him all that I could
Maybe love is a hopeless crime
Giving up what seems your lifetime
What went wrong with something once so good

How do you find the words to say
To say goodbye (find the words to say goodbye)
When your heart don't have the heart to say
To say goodbye (find the words to say goodbye)

I know now I was naive
Never knew where this would lead
And I'm not trying to take away
From the good man that he is

But how do I let go when I've
Loved him for so long and I've
Given him all that I could
Was it something wrong that we did
Because others infiltrated
What went wrong with something once so good

How do you find the words to say
To say goodbye (find the words to say goodbye)
If your heart don't have the heart to say
To say goodbye (find the words to say goodbye)

Is this the end are you sure
How should you know when you've never been here before
It's so hard to just let go
When this is the one and only love I've ever known

So how do you find the words to say
To say goodbye (find the words to say goodbye)
If your heart don't have the heart to say
To say goodbye (find the words to say goodbye)
...

I've never shared my bed with anyone, but tonight it feels so empty. My bed feels empty, my room feels too big, and it feels like everyone's asleep but me. It's one of those nights that I want company during, but I don't want to have to do or say a thing. Remembering is hurtful, looking ahead is difficult, and experiencing the present is excruciating. Nobody said it was easy, but when did it get to be so hard?

Sometimes the solitude is so profound it seems to swallow me whole. It smothers me whole. It smothers me so that I can't escape, but only bury myself deeper into the realization that I am totally, utterly alone and that there is no one out there who can rescue me. For once, love is not here as my shield, life-line, or saviour. I have never been the best, nor will I ever be the best. All the encouragement and support I tried to motivate myself with was false and empty. I have no sustenance to me. People walk right by me without ever realizing I was there. I am good for nothing, bad at everything. Success is not written in my stars, and I am not the master of my destiny. As independent as I strive to be, someone always has to show me the way first. I have never missed my chance because opportunity has never knocked on my door. Nobody knows me so nobody could like me. My best efforts will never be enough. I am neither pretty nor ugly; I am plain and boring and blend in with the crowd and am forgotten. I dream without an end of reality. The only thing I can do is feel sorry for myself--at least I'm good at that.
...

Kraft Dinner is such a lonely midnight snack.

Careful What You Wish For

The immediately previous post to this one was actually supposed to be posted last night. I was going to finish that post and then settle in for the long study haul till my exam at 2pm this afternoon. I had even cleared off my desk and set up my books and notes in preparation. But alas, as I rounded the third paragraph of that post, the power suddenly cut out to my computer--I didn't post, I didn't save. It took me a second to realize what had just happened, and then another second to realize that it wasn't just the power to my computer, but to my whole house. I ambled out to the hallway in tmie to catch Brodder's cry of "Aww crap!" rise from the office downstairs. By the time I reached the hall, I could see out Brodder's window and saw that it wasn't just my house, but the whole city block that had lost power. KC had mentioned wanting to be able to see the stars again like that night of the North American Blackout this summer and I had concurred, but I hadn't quite been ready for it just at that second. After finding the flashlights and lighting the candles, my brother passed out on my floor (apparently he runs on electricity too) and I gave up on trying to study. Instead, I peeked outside and up at the stars. The sky eventually clouded over, but I saw those stars clear as a bell, just like I'd wanted to. The power eventually came back on at about 3 o'clock in the morning, but by then my whole house was asleep.
...

I was clearing out my "inbox" from downstairs today. It's basically a file amonst a bunch of others in which my homework, mail, bills, and other crap gets put into when other people have found them while cleaning the house and neither know if it's garbage, nor want to seek me out and ask. So as I cleaned it out, I found a piece of writing:

I told him. I hadn't meant to. I meant to hold onto it indefinitely to see if I could do it. See if it would go away. I still believe it will go away. Temporary--like most everything else in my life.

It's in my handwriting, but there's no date, no names, nothing else to indicate who "him" is or what "it" is that I'm referring to. I suppose it was temporary afterall.

I Thought It Was Going To Be Random...

"Sunny day
Sweepin' the clouds away
On my way to where the air is sweet..."
...the lyrics to my song of the day...can anyone identify what song it is? Day two of the boo-tiful weather. And they've forecasted the weekend to be in the teens! I can't wait. I think to prepare I'll start oiling the bearings of my rollerblades tonight.

With such boo-tiful weather outside, I was tempted to play hookey from all my responsibilities and go out for long, leisurely, and mostly aimless drive in the car to the limits of civilization and beyond. Where's Squiggly when I need him? Last summer--mostly on Sundays--we were overcome by this reckless mood more than once and jumped in the car to see what the roads would unwind for us. If Squiggly was around, I'd for sure have left my Kids to tutor themselves and gone on that drive...Sorry Kids.

However, since Squiggly wasn't around to go for a drive with me I managed to get myself to tutor my kids, and the drive there wasn't half bad. Not just because the sun was out and the music--Damita Jo--was up, but because I had some sweet company along the ride. Most of the way to tutoring I followed a black Cadillac CTS, much like the one that Squiggly picked me up in last year and let me take for a test drive. The CTS stopped at the next stop light and I admired its powerful luxury from behind for a bit until I noticed a shiny red Mitsubishi Eclipse pull up along next to the CTS. What were the odds that me in my mega-Previa mini-van would have the opportunity to gawk over two beautiful examples of modern engineering at work? The two cars were side by side and at the front of the line at the light. Neither of the drivers noticed me noticing them, but they certainly noticed each other. I'm sure you can figure out what happened next. There were no nodding of the heads, but there was an unspoken challenge in the coinicidence of their cars meeting side by side such as they were. The light changed, and they were off. I know that they weren't racing, but I also knew that neither was about to be outdone by the other. Their acceleration was slow, but steady, and though I'd been the next car right behind them, they were quickly leaving me behind until there came a curve in the road that by the time I'd rounded, they were gone. Boo-tiful. Simply boo-tiful.

I miss my sunroof. Despite the great weather and awesome company I had on my drive, I would have enjoyed it that much more had I had a sunroof in my car. Anyone who's ever owned a car with a sunroof will understand what I'm talking about. Ever since we got the new car, I've been without a sunroof and it sucks. This summer I'll miss out on the cruising with the roof open, the windows down, and the music up. I'll miss feeling the sun streaming down on my face from above and the wind whipping through my hair from all angles. I'll miss cracking the sunroof open on those long driving nights in order to gaze up at the stars. And I'll especially miss having the sunroof open so that my passengers can stretch their arms up and out to feel the breeze and to better throw the finger to other motorists for me whenever they cut me off. Sunroofs rock.

Know what else rocks? Janet Jackson's new CD--Damita Jo. I only just got my hands on it two nights ago, but I've been listening to it non-stop since then. Admittedly, it has somewhat of the same beat and feel of her other albums, but that's absolutely fine by me since I think she's got it right. The only track I can't listen to very easily though, is track 16--"Warmth". Not that I don't like feeling warm, but that I think I feel a little too warm when I listen to it. Find it, give a trial, and let me know what YOU think. ;)

Know what sucks? Xanga. I think the Xanga server has it in for me since I haven't been able to access it any Xanga pages all day. I caught a brief glimpse of Pablo's page a while ago, but then it disappeared and told me that there was a "Gateway Timeout" and that the server was "unreachable." Any ideas on how to fix it? It also told me to "Contact the administrator", but I can't well do that if I can't get to the main page, can I? Anyway, so I haven't had my fill of Kristine nor Pablo lately, and I'm starting to feel withdrawl. I mean, what if Pablo's BEEFING me and I can't even know about it?! Ah well, I shall take his silence, whether voluntary or not, as a sign of my victory and be thankful that I'm with Blogger. :D

Someone not with Blogger but whom I do not beef with though, is Fishy. I think she is my literature soul mate. She stays up late like me, enjoys the same reads as me (like this story that was originally passed on to me by Shaky), blogs as randomly and often as I do, and GETS the literary references I may make once in a while. Last night we made a deal to pass books on to each other from our own private collections. Now I'm excited; I just KNOW some good stuff is headed this way. Talk to you soon, Fishy! :)

A Starry Starry Update

As KC so graciously pointed out, the sun is no longer out anymore (and so I had to change my screen-name from "SUN!!!"...) but the sky is still clear and the stars are out full force (...to "STARS!!!"). I know because I had to pick up Brodder and in the time that it took to walk from the car to the house, my eyes had adjusted and I could see the stars shining in the sky. Unfortunately, because of all the light pollution, I couldn't see as much detail as I would've liked to, but I was still able to pick out the Big Dipper, Venus, and Orion's Belt, in just the short distance up the verandah steps. Tonight reminded me of the time that I went for a drive with Jean and we got lost out in the middle of nowhere (Pickering/Ajax). I remember that that night, the sky was so clear, and the stars were so bright that we could see the arching of the heavens above us. That night was nice. I bet if I'd been able to go for the same drive tonight, it would've been just about the same. Too bad, eh Jean?

When I was little, my parents bought me this book that claimed to be "Every Girl's Complete Handbook" and it had a (drawn) picture of a girl on the cover, squatting with her hands on her hips wearing pink tights under (I think) a blue and black striped leotard with a yellow headband. I remember this because she looked so proud to be squatting that way on the cover and I could never understand why. Anyway, whether or not this was indeed every girl's complete handbook I don't know because I can't remember what was in it for the life of me...except for one thing. They had two pages dedicated to a chart of the stars and all the major constellations. It was from these two pages and the few times that I went camping that I taught myself where the Big Dipper and Orion were as well as a bunch of other constellations, but those two I've never forgotten since.

I know that, like thunderstorms, I have Dad to thank for cultivating my interest in heavenly bodies. I like being able to pick out the few clusters, patterns, and planets that I can, and I like being able to point them out to others as well. Except for Squiggly. In all the time that I've known him, and for all the times that we've sat out on the side porch chatting philosophically under the stars, I have never been able to successfully get him to recognize the stars that make up the Big Dipper. But then that's Squiggly for you. Although now that I think about it, I don't think I know any guys outside of my own family (I'm counting Dawson as family here) that can recognize any of the constellations on their own. Oh, except for Jean--that alone was pretty impressive.

Yeah, I don't know any males that are even vaguely familiar with the heavens. Guys, here's a tip: learn the stars. Women are all about the romantic nights under the stars, so if you're a star expert, you're a shoo-in! A guy that can point out two or more constellations while on a night walk gets as many bonus hot-points as a man that plays a guitar or a man that brings flowers for no reason. For bonus-bonus points, find out the dates of the annual meteor showers (usually July/August time) and take a girl out to make wishes on all those shooting stars. *sigh* But at least learn the stars; that way, I'll have at least one more person to admire the awe-inspiring heavens with on nights like these. Maybe one day someone will point them out to me for once...

Superfluous Sunshine And Arch-Nemesis Uber-Nerds

Thank goodness I took a break from being my nocturnal self today and actually got up and out of the house before 1:30pm; it's BOO-TIFUL outside!!! In case you've been hiding under a rock today (or behind a book in the library, as most of us students should be), the sun decided to come out and SHINE today! With barely a cloud in the sky, I headed out to school to join my study group this afternoon. Knowing that it was so nice out, our study session only lasted an hour before we got up and moved it outside to a picnic table in order to make the most of the weather. It was perfect: jackets open, books closed, we sure made the most of our time. ;)

You know how it's great when you talk with people who just get what you're trying to say? Yeah, what's how it was with Chandler (because he is) and Baby Fultz today out there in the sun; it was so refreshing. During the time that we actually covered the topics that were going to be on our exam on Friday, I felt so intellectual. Terms such as "thematic significance" and "narratological structure" needed no explanation between us; each of us got to use words such as "superfluous," "perplexing," "protagonist," and "intertextual" together in one sentence without missing a beat or getting lost looks from our listeners. We even got away with sentences like: "He describes different things as the same thing which are the same things" or "The best example of blindness in The Blind Assassin is when the Blind Assassin in The Blind Assassin reflects The Blind Assassin" just because we were SO on the same page.

The connectedness didn't end with the literature we were discussing, but continued on into our other discussions about screenplays, movies, actors, writing, FRIENDS, SEINFELD, Babylon 5, and relationships. The explanations continued to be unnecessary and sentences flowed, even when including terms such as: "ooey-gooey," "giddyup," "Dolanisms," "crediteded," and "arch-nemesis uber-nerds." My favourite line to come out of our chatting had to do with what a guy would say to a not-so-hot girl who suddenly turned super-hot: "I forgot that I love you." Hehehe. I hear that so often. ;)

I love great conversation like that. Though we were talking for nearly three hours non-stop, the whole experience outdoors was very refreshing. Sharing ideas and experiences like that can be so stimulating--a nice break from the boring, ordinary chit-chat and small talk you're usually forced to make with passers-by and semi-strangers. And this is not to say that conversations I have with my closer friends on a daily basis are simple or shallow, but this was a rare chance to look at these topics from a new perspective, a chance to learn something new. A chance that someone with my intellect doesn't get very often.

It's because today was such a boo-tiful day full of intelligence and enlightenment that I'm now actually looking forward to my next week's study session, once again with Chandler and Fultz. According to our shorthand notes from today, we studied UP The Blind Ass Maid (The Underpainter, The Blind Assassin, The Handmaid's Tale), next week, who knows?

This Isn't Red-Violet...Is It?

My pooter exploded last night. Not the one in my room, but the main one downstairs. Brodder thought he’d fixed it by clearing out the dust and giving it a cooler home, but about half an hour later, it exploded again…for good. Something about the hard drive failing. Brodder is desperately trying to fix it, along with the guidance of Bar, but so far, we’re still waiting to see what we can salvage before we get too involved in making “adjustments.” I don’t understand a thing that they’re doing. What I DO understand though, is that I can’t access my Rogers email account, and that I’ve probably lost all of the writing that I’ve done over the year, be it essays or whatnot. That sucks. I have yet to hear about the pictures…but if I lose those, I will be completely lost. :’(

Pooters suck. They’re supposed to be so technologically advanced and so conveniently organized--which they are--until they explode on you like mine did and then you’re completely screwed. Thank goodness I still have pen and paper.
…

Mom’s working on opening a hair salon downstairs in the basement soon. Dad’s already begun the renovations for her sinks and chairs and all. Last night I was Mom’s guinea pig. Not that she’s never done hair before—she has her license—but it’s been a while since she’s done much more than give hair-cuts and whole-head dye-jobs. So anyway, last night was her practice rerun on doing foil highlights and figuring out how much hair dye would be needed for particular jobs, as well as experimentation with colours.

After all was said and done, I must say that Mom did a pretty nice job. Exactly as we had planned, and very funky looking. However, I must say it was a learning experience not only for her, but for myself as well.

First, the foils. I never realized how tedious it was to highlight someone’s hair. We only put streaks in the forward/top part of my head, but it sure took a long time. I looked like an alien out of a cheesy 60s sci-fi; Hun-Gee even had the audacity to suggest I sit closer to the TV in hopes that my wavy foil head would get him better reception of the game. :p

Second, the amount of hair-dye. When we went to the beautician’s supply store to pick up the colouring, we stopped to ask the girl there how much she speculated we’d need to dye my hair the way we’d planned (high-lights and then a solid lower-half). Between her and Mom, they figured that while it would take 3 whole tubes of pigment to colour my whole head, maybe we could eke it out with just one tube for this job…so we bought 2 tubes to be sure. We only used one tube for time-saving reasons, but this turned out to be only enough for 3/4 of the hair that we’d planned to dye. Not that we only did one side of my head and now it looks weird, just fewer streaks and less low-lighting than we’d thought. My hair still looks cooler than yours. ;)

Finally, the colour. You know when you go out to the drug store and you buy the boxes of do-it-yourself colouring and you really like the colour on the box/hair-swatch, but after you get home and actually apply the colour it turns out 1000 shades darker than you thought? Well, that’s how it was for me the last time that I coloured my hair because I’d bought the stuff from the drug store. Well, this time I thought I’d outsmart the dye and by picking a colour much lighter and more vibrant than what I actually wanted, that way it could set and fade to the right shade the day after. Smart, right? Not when you actually go to the beautician’s supply to get your pigments. See there, the colour that you see on the box is the colour that you’re going to get in your hair. So, needless to say, my hair is slightly lighter and more vibrant that I’d originally thought.

I used to be all about the “au naturel” look when it came to my hair and swore that no harmful products would ever come in contact with it to change its natural colour or look (not to say that dyes are harmful or anything, they’re actually quite rejuvenating for your hair) but now that I’ve started with the colouring, I don’t think I can stop. We still have an extra bottle of the same pigment, and I intend for it to be in my hair by Wednesday night at the latest. I’ll let you all know when Mom’s salon will be open for business. :)

It's Not Love

Three posts in one day? You can definitely tell that I'm supposed to be studying for exams.

I was HOed last night. I'm acutally still being HOed right now. DR. HOed, that is. My shoulders are still so freakin' sore. Mom says that I should call our masseuse, but I think my shoulders have reached the point where a masseuse is no longer sufficient therapy. I think it's time for physio, I swear they're always so bad after volleyball that it almost might be time to retire. Yeah, whatever. That's like asking Boo to give up singing, or Pablo to stop playing soccer--it's not going to happen.

But then that's what happens when you're passionate about something. It sits way high up there on your list of priorities in life. You spend a lot of your time pursuing your passions. You don't let passions go easily; especially not without a fight. It's almost like love. If you really love someone, you're going to spend as much time with them as you can, you're not likely to pass up an opportunity to go visit, and you're definitely not going to give up on them for just any little reason. That's how you know you're passionate about something. You become an aficianado; an admirer, a follower.

Everyone should have something that they can be passionate about. And I'm not talking about another person that they can direct affection at. Everyone should have some sort of outlet--be it a sport, a hobby, a game, but something--that they can turn to when nothing else seems to be going their way. Better than a friend, it's something that you can pass the time with and feel better about yourself after doing so. Sure I can't play an all out game without 11 other people but I can definitely volley a ball in the confines of my room and feel my tension slide away, just like Boo can sing in the shower or Pablo can play keep-ups in the same way.

People are not as reliable as things can be. When our friends fail us, we can turn to this passion to offer support. When family can't be there, we have this passion to lend comfort. And when our lovers leave, this passion remains to give a sense of relief. Understandably, a passion cannot necessarily offer advice when confused, or comforting words when lost, or any vocality for that matter, but sometimes the last thing we need is to be spoken to; a presence is more than enough. The Castaway had Wilson as his only companion and he survived the trial of his life.

On a bored day, give me volleyball. On an energetic day, give me the courts. On a lonely day, give me the beach nets. On an angry day, just leave me with a ball and a wall--they're cure enough for me without ever having to utter a word. Everyone needs something to be passionate about--love may be deep and tender, but passion is powerful and boundless. I'd rather be strong than soft.

Pet Peeve: When people forward you messages that are emedded within a hundred other messages that you have to open in order to get the original message. You who do this, know who you are...

Note to Self: Get help for addiction to computerized card games, especially Solitare, Spider Solitare, and Freecell.
...

Song of the Moment: "For You" - Coldplay

If you're lost and feeling low,
Circumnavigate the globe,
All you ever have to hope,
For two,

And the way you seem to flow
Circumnavigate and hope,
If you seem to lose control,
Wherever you are

Everyone of us is high,
Everyone of us is low,
Everyone of us is here,
How about you?
Your eyes are closed,
Your head held low,
Your eyes are closed.

Everyone of us is high,
Everyone of us is low,
Everyone of us has hope,
For you.

You Know It's Spring When

My parents are outside, wielding chainsaws, garbage bags, ropes, and shovels. They're trimming the hedge before it begins to bud, and planting some bulbs in order to colour our garden. And if that's not what they're up to and you happen to be missing a loved one, then I suggest that beneath the compost pile is a good place to start looking. :p
...

On another note, I played a volleyball tournament yesterday and then went to an indoor golf range for my first time--all on 3 hours of sleep. I sucked so bad that the owner (this really nice, kinda elderly Greek man) came over to me personally to teach me how to drive a ball. His lesson was great--I could actually HIT the ball after that. He also came over to teach me to putt when I hit the mini-greens. Man, I'm pathetic. But anyway, it hurts to type because I cracked a nail; it hurts to stretch after sitting because my shoulders are stiff; it hurts to sneeze because I pulled some ab muscles; it hurts to pick-up and carry dishes because my wrists are sore; and worst of all it hurts to dance in my underwear because my body is so collectively sore. Yesterday sure beat me up, but MAN, I can't WAIT to do it again!

Quote of the Moment:
"Rogers has a map with blinking lights of where all the downloaders are in the area--where my house is, there's a black hole."
    -- Esquire, on why he didn't have use of the internet for a week

Directions To My Place

I was doing some research via SiteMeter and discovered that you could find my blog with what I consider to be rather obscure search words. Wanna try? So if you ever forget my web address, try keying in the following searches found by these various engines:

MSN
    "fingernail polish porn" OR
    "sexy girls' bellybuttons" OR
    "tim horton's coffee additives"

Google
    "why should it be i who bleeds" + "giving you a little less"

Yahoo!
    "Kristine Sa porn"

This way, you can always find your way home...though I can't believe that there exists some one who searched for that last option (I'm so sorry Boo); why are there so many hits for porn to my page anyway? I used the word ONCE in a post. ONCE. I bet that these are all searches performed by Pablo. (Where's your beef?)

At Least It's Essay Related...

Okay, it's just after one o'clock in the morning. My essay is due at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. I've been doing some math: on average, I can type, let's say, 60 words a minute (if I know what I'm going to type, but that's besides the point). So that means that I can type 600 words every 10 minutes, and 3600 words every hour. Now, let's say each page of text has about 300 words on it. 20 pages means that I need 6000 words. So, according to the numbers, it should only take me...

*calculating numbers in my head* *carrying the one* *searching for the calculator*

...one hour and forty minutes to finish this baby in its entirety. But, failing that, then I can do some more calculations:
let's say I type 10 words a minute, every minute for 10 hours. I will achieve the same number of words as if I went crazy mad for one hour and forty minutes, and still be able to catch 2 hours of sleep before heading out to hand in the essay. Both ways of calculated attack sound great, but knowing me, my essay's going to be born out of a mutated combination of both methods--it will be done and handed in before the end of class tomorrow, but it will probably neither be proof-read, nor titled very accurately. Ah well...back to the essay...
...

Update - 2:24am

faaaaaaack. I've just spent an hour reading up on blogs--my own as well as others'. According to my calculations I could have either been more than halfway through my essay, or I could have written 600 words/2 pages by now!!! Well, at least Pablo's read was worth it...whew!!!
...

Update - 5:08am

Guess how many pages I've written? ...okay, not that many. ...Oh come on, give me a little more credit than that...I'm not at TOTAL slacker. Anyway, as I am no longer on page 2.5 and my ass and legs are completely and painfully numb, I'm going to go for a walk, some water, and maybe some instant noodles. We'll see how I feel when I get to the kitchen. What I could really go for though, is some SUSHI...
...

Update - 5:11am

(I'm waiting for my water to boil.) I was just thinking how sad it is that spammers steal all the good email addresses for themselves--correct me if I'm wrong. I was just blocking some spam via my awesomely cool, anti-spam program, MailWasher Pro, and I noticed addresses such as "greeneyes@whatever.com", or "noteworthyfragrance@somethingelse.com", or "4thePattersons@theotherdomain.com". I mean, what happens if you HAVE greeneyes, or if you CREATED a noteworthy fragrance, or worse yet, if you ARE the Pattersons? Then what? Stupid selfish spammers, hogging all the good things for themselves.

Quote of the Moment:
    "He turned then, and at first I was not sure he could see me. I stretched out my hand, like a drowing person beseeching rescue. In that moment I had already committed treachery in my heart.
    "Was this a betrayal, or was it an act of courage? Perhaps both. Neither one involves forethought: such things take place in an instant, in an eyeblink. This can only be because they have been rehearsed by us already, over and over, in silence and darkness; in such silence and darkness, that we are ignorant of them ourselves. Blind but sure-footed, we step forward as if into a remembered dance."
    --Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

Jabbering Randomly For A Second Time

My furnace isn't working so it's freezing in my house. TK told me to go sit in the oven and turn it on. Brilliant, problem solved.

I've been writing a "relationship rant" based on my readings about my past relationships (and I'm talking YEARS ago) in my old diaries. Basically, it's about the guidelines I go by when dating someone, and some of the "rules" I have for myself. I haven't had time to spend on it due to my essay, but I've saved it for a rainy day and will post it sometime.

I had to drink my brew again. Blech. Even though mom brought me a lump of sugar with it this time, I swear the taste is getting worse and worse every time.

I have an overwhelming craving for sushi RIGHT NOW. I had a craving for a chocolate-chip cookie-dough and reese's pieces Blizzard earlier, but that's past now. Now it's all about the sushi.

20 pages due by Wednesday, and I'm on page 3. I see this as a positive thing as it's not quite just the night before yet and I've at least got it started.

I am very vague when it comes to people's identities on the internet. If I can help it, I won't mention real names at all, nor will I use pseudonyms that remotely resemble the individual's actual name. I did this initially to protect the identities of people from strangers online or to keep secret things secret. Now I do it more out of habit. If you can't figure out who you are in my posts, ask me. But then, if you can't figure out who you are, you probably aren't IN that post. :)

My gums still hurt from my dental check-up this morning. It was routine, sixth-month cleaning, but the hygenist that worked on myself and Brodder was resentful about the fact that though she wanted to be an oral surgeon, she only made hygenist--there was blood everywhere, I tell you. Both of us cringed and gripped the chair to keep from crying out as she stabbed blindly and profusely at our gums, and through all our pain, she had the audacity to casually mention that "Oh, your gums are bleeding." What did she think was going to happen after all that stabbing?!? Owwie.

My tummy hurts now and I'm convinced it was because of the poo brew I drank.

Though I plan on cutting my toes nails sometime later today, I do not plan on arranging them in a happy-face on Brooder's window sill. I plan to put them on his pillow.

Up to at least my fortieth cup of Tim's coffee and still nothing won yet.

Boo's hair may and may not be green tomorrow, which reminds me, I want to go swimming.

Talking to TK makes me hungry. Food, and then back to the essay.

Essay? What Essay?

Actually, I AM working on my essay (which is kinda why I'm still awake right now) and I thought I'd share with you the opening vignette I have planned. As for some background info, my essay is regarding the philosophies of Ralph Waldo Emerson and John Stuart Mill on Individualism and the Independent Identity of an Individual and the effects they have had on our materialistic North American (I can't bear to just say "American") society's concept of the "right path" for people to take, especially regarding education. *whew* Basically, these guys think that the more we're allowed to express ourselves freely, the more likely we'll become geniuses.

This opening vignette is my own true story, supporting my point that some people don't view university as a place to follow your passions...just a place to prepare to earn $$$. Be glad you're not part of my obscure family...

It was Christmas dinner at the obscure relatives' house--the cousins of the cousins' or something like that. I cowered in a corner most of the night, hoping that no one would notice me as I preferred not to have to converse with these family members--I had decided years ago that their snootiness was simply too much to grin and bear. My camouflage lasted about half of the night until my Uncle ---, who made it his duty to condescendingly compare me to his prodigy daughter, spotted me amongst the ferns.
    "Melody! There you are! I've been looking for you all night!"
    "Hello, Uncle ---, Merry Christmas."
    "Yeah, yeah, Merry Merry. So hey! How's university going? Are you still in school? You know, my daughter's going to be finishing her Bio-Engineering degree next year. She's going to make a lot of money, eh? So what are you studying again?"
    "I'm an English Specialist, Uncle ---. I'm finishing my degree next year too. At U of T, same school as your daughter."
    "Oh yeah. That must be interesting...I guess your parents said it was okay...I'm sure you'll find a job somewhere...doing English things..."
    There followed a bit of a pause during which my uncle silently tried to think of something more to say about my field of study, and I silently willed him to spontaneously combust. Unfortunately, neither of us achieved any results, and he continued.
    "So, uh, what about your brother, eh? What's he going to study next year?"
    "He's going into a Computer Software Engineering program, Uncle ---."
    "Computer Software Engineering, eh? Now that's a degree! Your parents must be proud of him, eh? Just like my daughter, he's going to make a lot of money, eh?"
    And on and on he went, jabbering about the great and wealthy people my brother and his daughter were preparing to be. I managed to grin, but I couldn't bear it.

And so you have it. I swear, Uncle --- is a real "uncle" of mine (I only say "uncle" cuz I don't really know the exact title/relation he is to me), and I swear, he never misses a chance to rag on my choice of study, my seeming lack of heritage, and my cheesy part-time job (which I don't even have anymore). *sigh* Really, I would never wish a relative like him upon you; that would just be cruel. Anyway, seeing as this essay is worth 70% of my final mark, feel free to comment, complain, and criticize...I know you want to.

Call Me Gimpy
(If anyone actually knows who the "Gimpy" is that I'm referring to, I salute you!)

I am never going to leave my room again. Just buy me a bed pan and a mini-fridge and I'm set! Just this past weekend, I temporarily acquired Bar's old computer with the intent of just putting it in my room for use as a typewriter for my essays. (I guess, according to the conversation that TK and I had in my earlier post, I also acquired it for a foot-massager, home-tanner, and sonic body masseur!) Up until yesterday, it was all good. But then, last night, Brodder ruined it all: he connected the computer to the internet.

Since last night, I have left my room for only the reasons that the purchases mentioned above will solve (although I did sneak out to Tim's with Tuna for some communal study time) Other than that, I have been MSNing, emailing, and playing online from my room all day! And now, I am blogging from not just my room, but from my BED!!! This has got to be one of the coolest things I have ever done! Many thanks to Bar (you bestest) and Brodder ("One, Two, Three...PULL!!!")...this is all your guys' fault.

On the plus side though, at least now I won't have to walk all the way downstairs everytime I'm inspired to add a paragraph or even just a few lines to my essay (as though that happens very often anyway). I think I'm thankful for the fact that this computer's only on loan though, cuz otherwise I don't think I'd ever really get out of bed on my days off...and it's already hard enough to get up on my days ON as it is. BUT, now that I've been so pampered as to be connected from my room, I think that I have been motivated to actually find a job this summer and earn enough not just for school, but for a laptop as well. I suppose we'll all see how that goes. If I don't have a job or a computer by the end of the summer, you are all free to boo me at will.
...

Speaking of emailing from my room, I got the COOLEST thing from Hydrophobic Fish (I think I've changed my mind again--she will now be called "Fish" for shorter..."Fishy" for cuter). Admittedly I skipped the link the first time through, but since I had no reason to be leaving the vincinity of my bed,--and hence, the computer--today, I took a look, and I think you all should too--all .5 of you. I don't know where she finds all this cool stuff, but she does, and I'm glad she's such a sharer. :D Click here to see what I'm talking about. It's a beautiful art video, and it's definitely worth the time.

And while I'm mentioning links that are worth your time, allow me to draw your attention to this one as well. Hun-Gee introduced me to this site the same night that he introduced me to the StarWars Kid, the original dunk-off that Vince Carter won, and Jin's first and famous Freestyle Friday win. Visit this site and watch the videos of the breakdancer dude, David Elsewhere--he should be in the top-left corner of your screen; both those videos are of him. omg. The first time I saw him break (the lower video, when he's in orange), I tripped out. The guy moved in slow motion. SLOW MOTION!!! omg. Trippy, I tell you, but go ahead, see it for yourself.

And finally, while I'm still keeping you from doing anything important and substantial, I pose to you the riddle that Pablo posted on his page last week:
    My head is always 10lbs heavier from the moment that I wake up, to the moment I step out of my house. What am I?
He hasn't yet posted the answer, and I already made my guess on his page, but I offer to give the person who earns me a cookie a piece of banana bread for the info. Deal? (No, Pablo, you can't just TRADE me a cookie for banana bread.)

Eat Your Heart Out, Boys

This morning I woke up to a beautiful woman crawling into bed with me. And then I went out to run an errand soon after, and when I got back to my house, there were TWO beautiful women waiting for me in my kitchen. If I keep this up, I think I'll soon be giving Hugh a run for his money mansion.

Things That Go Bwahaha! In The Night

3:17am
    TK - this is the only time when I can catch up on the rest of the world
    me - what's there to catch up on? and how are you doing this? you and your remote control getting cozy?
    TK - nah just me and my keyboard--keyboard is too big to get cozy with
    me - are you sure? it could be like a big...foot massager...
    TK - a foot massager....does it go like this.......r58tuy870798yfgvhjko;hgfnibg9v8c7xguhijpbovg98cigbhnoj96
    me - LoL!!! omg I think my gut is going to burst!
    TK - just that I need another keyboard for the other foot
    me - no you don't...if you just put the mouse in the right place...it's like a foot roller. and then you can just alternate between the two per foot
    TK - I think I'll use the computer fan to cool down my feet and use the monitor to give me a tan and my speakers to give me a full body sonic massage. you're such a genius
    me - I am. NOW you and your computer can get cozy.
    TK - now i love my computer...

4:09am
    me - Do I really want people to immigrate over to me while I'm picking up garbage in the public parks or panhandling on the street corners?
    TK - hey it's all about the person and not about the job but that would be kinda funny. you getting free money
    me - oh really? what's so funny about me collecting your pity money for free? well, actually, if I could con you into giving me free money..then I guess I wouldn't complain. :D
    TK - no complaints here if I conned you for even more money
    me - HAHA!! I get the last laugh...cuz I don't HAVE any money!!!
    TK - then I'll quit so I won't have any money also. I'm sure there some drinking money lying around somewhere
    me - unfortunately not...I drank it.

Two Boo-tiful Nights

Night One:
    - Kristine Sa personally performed one of her new and yet unrecorded songs for me the other night. She definitely earned Redemption. ;)
    - Boo and I stretched out our shoulderblades also the other night by yoga-ing on the floor in the living-room. Brodder walked in on us, took one look, and walked right back out...much to our giggly delight.
    - We both decided to boycott having to write our papers for as long as we could.
    - We were reminded that "it only drunks when you're work."

Night Two
    - Random coffee break occurred...in our pyjamas.
    - Random junk food also occurred...also while in our pyjamas.
    - Looking at a "tofu" lid backwards, it looks like it says "UofT".
    - "My thesis is so full of holes, it's practically cheese!"

With someone like Boo around, why bother sleeping or working when you can slack off instead?

Look What I Can Do!
Yeah, I typed this instead of typing my essay.

I don’t want to write this frickin’ essay. I think it should be about animals for some reason (probably because that seems the easiest topic right about now) but I don’t even like the animals that I have to choose from to write about. Who really cares about 25% anyway? And what do I lose per day? 5%? 10%? I really don’t even care anymore. I think I’d rather finish this rant and hand it in instead of an essay. I know it’d be a lot more fun to read. Or maybe I could just finish writing about…you know, that relationship stuff. About Him (no, not god, the other guy). Why can’t we have fun rants like this to hand in for marks rather than essays? Isn’t university all about honing our writing and ability to support an opinion? Well, my opinion is that essay writing sucks and that I’d rather write about my life and what the hell’s wrong with it instead. Isn’t that what’s more important anyway? Who I am and what I think? That’s what Emerson and Mill write about in their essays and books and whatnot. And they became recognized as classic writers of the 19th century!!! (omg, I learned something!) I’m too tired for this anyway. I fully intend—as soon as I’m done this rant—to climb upstairs with all of my books, crawl into bed with a pen and some paper, and fall asleep halfway into my first sentence. And then I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning and go to class and complain that I didn’t have enough time to finish because I had my twenty page essay due yesterday (only a half-truth) and didn’t have time for this one—could I hand it in on Friday? C’est la vie. And I know I won’t be the only one to do this either. Who knows? Maybe the prof’ll cry: “April Fool’s! You don’t have to hand in an essay at all! Funny, eh?” Yeah. Real funny; if only it were true. I’d laugh. Wouldn’t you? Holy crap. Look how long it took me to fill a whole page—NO TIME!!! No time at all! Okay, at least I know for SURE that it took me less than 10 minutes cuz I know it was five o’clock when I started to open Word, and it’s 5:11 now. I’m a fucking genius. Now if only these words would rearrange themselves into an essay regarding literature and culture of the 19th century, I’d be set! Ah crap.

And So...?

No, I'm not asleep yet. No, I haven't finished my essay that's due tomorrow. No, I don't really have any intention of finishing it on time. No, I haven't written my 20 page essay yet either. No, I haven't emailed all the people that I should've by now. No, I'm not wearing any underwear. No, I don't have any jokes planned for today. No, I don't intend on falling for anyone's pranks. No, I haven't started looking for or applying to any jobs yet. No, I'm not scratching. No, I don't have any money in my bank account. No, I haven't won any more free stuff from Tim Horton's after that one coffee. No, I will not lick your man-tits. No, I'm not going to drink on Friday. No, I'm not the girl on the McDonald's cup. No, I don't want to go to work tonight. No, I really don't care.

...what's it to you anyway?