The Aficianado Weeps
I was too busy over the last week or so with all the aforementioned papers and exams to put together a team to play in this Saturday's volleyball tournament. Instead I will have to either go and watch my boyfriend win yet another tournament without me, or I can stay at home and mope...only to hear about his victory later (it never fails that his team always wins when I'm not around).
However, now that I'm not playing, I can now go out late on Friday night for the first time in months and party it up (at Afterlife) and not have to worry about getting up early for any reason the day after; I can spend my Saturday more wisely by catching up on the billions of pages of readings that I haven't done; I can go and spend my otherwise unused tournament fee on something pretty for myself; or I can just have some "me" time for myself for a day...
...BUT IT'S NOT VOLLEYBALL!!! *sob*
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Booyah
Got my first assignment back in my "Women in Literature" course. It was a three page paper that I spent an entire 2 hours on; the first hour I spent scanning the material we'd been covering over the last 3 weeks in class, and the second hour I spent writing the damn thing. The fourth year student in front of me spent a week on it. She got an 85%. I picked mine up late today. I got an 88%. Booyah. School is good...this week, anyway.
Last week I wrote 3 mid-terms back to back to back in 5 hours on Thursday. That hurt. But then I played volleyball right after for 3 hours, coming away with one stinging floor burn for every hour I played. Goodness was aptly restored. Booyah.
Got my first assignment back in my "Women in Literature" course. It was a three page paper that I spent an entire 2 hours on; the first hour I spent scanning the material we'd been covering over the last 3 weeks in class, and the second hour I spent writing the damn thing. The fourth year student in front of me spent a week on it. She got an 85%. I picked mine up late today. I got an 88%. Booyah. School is good...this week, anyway.
Last week I wrote 3 mid-terms back to back to back in 5 hours on Thursday. That hurt. But then I played volleyball right after for 3 hours, coming away with one stinging floor burn for every hour I played. Goodness was aptly restored. Booyah.
Saturday, October 23, 2004
The Streets At Night
A car catches my attention as it pulls suddenly to the left into oncoming traffic in order to dart around and pass two slower moving cars taking up both of the southbound lanes. A black Cadillac is in the left lane and a navy blue Corolla is in the right. I quickly catch up to the two impeding sedans as they can't be going faster than forty kilometres an hour--the speed limit's sixty.
A private and eerie late-night funeral procession? A rolling start to a street race? A prolonged conversation through the windows of each car? Some sort of Jackass-esque stunt to try to annoy as many drivers heading south as possible?
The answer never becomes clear.
The two cars continue to box-in traffic at forty kph for at least another two kilometres until just before the next intersection when the Corolla suddenly roars to life, passing the Cadillac. Just through the lights the Corolla cuts over into the left lane in front of the Caddy and taps his brake lights. The last to be seen of that car is a middle finger thrown up and out of the driver's side window before it speeds off into the night. With one car out of the way, the other drops quickly behind as traffic catches up to its regular, 3am pace.
A car catches my attention as it pulls suddenly to the left into oncoming traffic in order to dart around and pass two slower moving cars taking up both of the southbound lanes. A black Cadillac is in the left lane and a navy blue Corolla is in the right. I quickly catch up to the two impeding sedans as they can't be going faster than forty kilometres an hour--the speed limit's sixty.
A private and eerie late-night funeral procession? A rolling start to a street race? A prolonged conversation through the windows of each car? Some sort of Jackass-esque stunt to try to annoy as many drivers heading south as possible?
The answer never becomes clear.
The two cars continue to box-in traffic at forty kph for at least another two kilometres until just before the next intersection when the Corolla suddenly roars to life, passing the Cadillac. Just through the lights the Corolla cuts over into the left lane in front of the Caddy and taps his brake lights. The last to be seen of that car is a middle finger thrown up and out of the driver's side window before it speeds off into the night. With one car out of the way, the other drops quickly behind as traffic catches up to its regular, 3am pace.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
How Convenient
"Hey, how high can you reach?"
*reaches arm up* "I dunno, about this high?"
"Oh, that's great! Change this lightbulb for me, will you?"
...
This actually happened. Shmelly and I came home yesterday from volleyball and mom stopped him at the door to have this conversation with him. Needless to say, the porch-light has been replaced and without the use of a stepladder. I knew Shmelly'd come in handy sooner or later. ;)
"Hey, how high can you reach?"
*reaches arm up* "I dunno, about this high?"
"Oh, that's great! Change this lightbulb for me, will you?"
...
This actually happened. Shmelly and I came home yesterday from volleyball and mom stopped him at the door to have this conversation with him. Needless to say, the porch-light has been replaced and without the use of a stepladder. I knew Shmelly'd come in handy sooner or later. ;)
A phone rings.Hello?
A radio is playing over the line. The low rumble of an engine can be heard as background noise. Despite the interference, the lyrics of the song playing come through clearly....Girl when I ask you to trust me
A slight rustling sound as the caller turns down the radio and brings the phone closer to himself to speak.
That doesn't mean that I'm gonna cheat on you
Cuz I'm gonna never do anything to hurt you
Or mislead you, I love you...I just wanted you to hear this song and I wanted to tell you that I love you.
The listener's eyes soften and a smile melts onto her lips as she responds.I was just thinking about how much I love you too.
Not much more is said between the two except for wishes for a goodnight and sweet dreams as the song continues to play in the background while the conversation draws to a close....Baby I'm so tired of the way you turn my words into
Deception and lies
Don't misunderstand me when I try to speak my mind
I'm only saying what's in my heart
...Cupid doesn't lie
But you won't know unless you give it a try
Oh baby, true love
won't lie but we won't know unless we give it a try
...Ain't no doubt about it
Lord no, I really mean it
I rather die before, before I lie to you
Never wanna leave you
Ain't no life without you
Never gonna leave, never gonna go, no...
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Just For Fun
 | I admit, I stole this from Pablo's page. It just amuses me so much. I mean, who the heck goes through the trouble of making a .gif file of himself dancing so absurdly? Besides Pablo, of course, because, I mean, that is him afterall. Okay, maybe it isn't, but it sure COULD be him if he tried. Anyway, Pablo would probably make a cooler .gif of himself playing football (like the China Women's Team (see below)) or of him picking his nose while going over speed-bumps. Ouch. Oh, look! Two posts within hours of each other...can you tell I should be finishing up some work? |
Your New Must-See
No, really, you NEED to see this. This link was sent to me via email from V-Jai and now I'm hooked on it. I've seen this video about a zillion times by now (although if he's seen it by now, I'm sure Pablo has not only caught up, but exceeded my number-of-times-watched) and I still can't get over the ingenuity of it. Basically, the Women's Soccer Team of China wants to play. Would you?
No, really, you NEED to see this. This link was sent to me via email from V-Jai and now I'm hooked on it. I've seen this video about a zillion times by now (although if he's seen it by now, I'm sure Pablo has not only caught up, but exceeded my number-of-times-watched) and I still can't get over the ingenuity of it. Basically, the Women's Soccer Team of China wants to play. Would you?
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Hey, Don't You Have Homework To Do?
Yes, yes in fact I do. So?
By tomorrow, I should have read 179 pages, written a paper, prepared a presentation, and done about 3 loads of laundry, yet here I am. My justification? I've got to unload some information in order to cram the rest of it in there.
My day tomorrow begins at 10:30am. From then, I have 8 hours of classes back to back (unless you count travel time, then I get 10 minutes to myself every 1.5 hours). There is a fifteen minute overlap between when my last class ends and when my intramural volleyball game begins. I play from 6:15-7:15pm. Finally, I have a break during which I can eat breakfast/lunch/dinner, but I have to be back in the gym by 8:00pm to root on Gonzo and the guys' basketball team until 9:00 when I have to start warming up again for my volleyball practice. I practice until 10:30pm. Then I come home, do some homework (or veg...whatever), and then sleep so that I can get up 6:30am the next morning and go to work. Yay.
If I ever want to buy a high-end luxury car, I'm going to become a hot dog vendor for a year. Apparently those guys make $80 000 on average--just imagine if you had an ABOVE average location!
Speaking of cars (don't hurt me Squiggly), even if it was handed to me on a silver platter, I'd trade in a Porsche for a BMW anyday.
My type in men: big, cute and cuddly.
I wish I lived with Shmelly.
If I ever own a place of my own, I've got some high standards for the stuff that's going to furnish it:
- all the furniture in each room will be part of a matching set--no stray pieces of furniture!
- I will have a matching set of silverware--here there can be strays, but I WILL have at least one FULL set of cutlery.
- flatware comes in matching sets too--and at LEAST 12 settings. At least.
- the refrigerator will have an ice and water dispenser on the outside.
- there will be HIGH water pressure supplying my showers; I'm talking about "elephant showers" (a la Seinfeld) here. No wimpy water pressure.
- and contrary to popular belief, my house will be CLEAN! (stop laughing, Mom)
My Mom's birthday is within a week from now...any one have any ideas as to what I could get here? What's the going gift-rate for mothers these days?
All I want for MY birthday is for people to show up (Ein-Stein's, 229 College St.) and for Boobin to win. Go Boobin!
Must do work...
Yes, yes in fact I do. So?
By tomorrow, I should have read 179 pages, written a paper, prepared a presentation, and done about 3 loads of laundry, yet here I am. My justification? I've got to unload some information in order to cram the rest of it in there.
My day tomorrow begins at 10:30am. From then, I have 8 hours of classes back to back (unless you count travel time, then I get 10 minutes to myself every 1.5 hours). There is a fifteen minute overlap between when my last class ends and when my intramural volleyball game begins. I play from 6:15-7:15pm. Finally, I have a break during which I can eat breakfast/lunch/dinner, but I have to be back in the gym by 8:00pm to root on Gonzo and the guys' basketball team until 9:00 when I have to start warming up again for my volleyball practice. I practice until 10:30pm. Then I come home, do some homework (or veg...whatever), and then sleep so that I can get up 6:30am the next morning and go to work. Yay.
If I ever want to buy a high-end luxury car, I'm going to become a hot dog vendor for a year. Apparently those guys make $80 000 on average--just imagine if you had an ABOVE average location!
Speaking of cars (don't hurt me Squiggly), even if it was handed to me on a silver platter, I'd trade in a Porsche for a BMW anyday.
My type in men: big, cute and cuddly.
I wish I lived with Shmelly.
If I ever own a place of my own, I've got some high standards for the stuff that's going to furnish it:
- all the furniture in each room will be part of a matching set--no stray pieces of furniture!
- I will have a matching set of silverware--here there can be strays, but I WILL have at least one FULL set of cutlery.
- flatware comes in matching sets too--and at LEAST 12 settings. At least.
- the refrigerator will have an ice and water dispenser on the outside.
- there will be HIGH water pressure supplying my showers; I'm talking about "elephant showers" (a la Seinfeld) here. No wimpy water pressure.
- and contrary to popular belief, my house will be CLEAN! (stop laughing, Mom)
My Mom's birthday is within a week from now...any one have any ideas as to what I could get here? What's the going gift-rate for mothers these days?
All I want for MY birthday is for people to show up (Ein-Stein's, 229 College St.) and for Boobin to win. Go Boobin!
Must do work...
Friday, October 08, 2004
Happy Gobble-Gobble!
It's October 8th and it's twenty-freakin'-nine degrees out. Go figure.
Not a comment from today, but in general...you know when a place has become important to you when you can drive home from that place on auto-pilot the whole way. I mean like, it's a no-brainer drive; you could space out and try to quantum the physics of quantum physics and you'd still get home in one piece because your body has memorized when to turn, where to turn, when to stop, and how long to stop. It's not like I try to make it a habit of trying to drive home with my eyes closed once in a while to test the significance of a specific location or anything, but it's something that I've noticed over my years of driving.
So anyway, this weekend's Thanksgiving weekend. Here's a question: what are we as Canadian's thankful for on this holiday? Apparently it's just food. Turkey, pumpkin, yams, corn, and squash. I mean, take a glance at what you know about American culture. Kids in elementary school in the USA are busy at their Thanksgiving time making dioramas of when the Indians had dinner with the Pilgrims. But then look back to your own Canadian days in elementary school. All I remember doing around this time was cutting out the different coloured feathers to stick onto the turkey's tail at the front of the class. They were thankful for people and nations and cultures coming together. We are thankful for Butterballs. Will someone please prove me wrong and please enlighten me as to what we Canadians are specifically supposed to be thankful for this weekend? I mean, I'm not saying I'm not happy to be eating turkey--my mom's gravy's the best around--but I just want to know the deeper meaning of it all. (I can't help it, I'm an English student trained to overanalyze the little things.)
It's October 8th and it's twenty-freakin'-nine degrees out. Go figure.
Not a comment from today, but in general...you know when a place has become important to you when you can drive home from that place on auto-pilot the whole way. I mean like, it's a no-brainer drive; you could space out and try to quantum the physics of quantum physics and you'd still get home in one piece because your body has memorized when to turn, where to turn, when to stop, and how long to stop. It's not like I try to make it a habit of trying to drive home with my eyes closed once in a while to test the significance of a specific location or anything, but it's something that I've noticed over my years of driving.
So anyway, this weekend's Thanksgiving weekend. Here's a question: what are we as Canadian's thankful for on this holiday? Apparently it's just food. Turkey, pumpkin, yams, corn, and squash. I mean, take a glance at what you know about American culture. Kids in elementary school in the USA are busy at their Thanksgiving time making dioramas of when the Indians had dinner with the Pilgrims. But then look back to your own Canadian days in elementary school. All I remember doing around this time was cutting out the different coloured feathers to stick onto the turkey's tail at the front of the class. They were thankful for people and nations and cultures coming together. We are thankful for Butterballs. Will someone please prove me wrong and please enlighten me as to what we Canadians are specifically supposed to be thankful for this weekend? I mean, I'm not saying I'm not happy to be eating turkey--my mom's gravy's the best around--but I just want to know the deeper meaning of it all. (I can't help it, I'm an English student trained to overanalyze the little things.)
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Quote of the Moment:
"As you can see, Mailer has DJ say 'ass' a lot throughout the whole novel. Now, I don't know if you Canadians ever actually use 'ass' in your conversations at all, but it's not uncommon for that word to pop-up in an American's description of something. You know, like 'He's one broke-ass mother-fucker.'"
--Professor Andrew DuBois, during today's lecture on American Fiction
...
No really, he actually said that. And if you think it's funny (or cute), try picturing him saying it with his really thick-ass Southern drawl. Even better.
"As you can see, Mailer has DJ say 'ass' a lot throughout the whole novel. Now, I don't know if you Canadians ever actually use 'ass' in your conversations at all, but it's not uncommon for that word to pop-up in an American's description of something. You know, like 'He's one broke-ass mother-fucker.'"
--Professor Andrew DuBois, during today's lecture on American Fiction
...
No really, he actually said that. And if you think it's funny (or cute), try picturing him saying it with his really thick-ass Southern drawl. Even better.
A Glimpse
She'd been there a while before I noticed her through the window. She actually startled me a little when I finally glanced over--her dark face and hair stood out starkly against the pale peach of the stretcher and the matching sheets pulled up to her chin. She was facing my direction, but I don't think she could see me; I think her eyes were closed anyway. Surrounded by as much medical equipment as she was and imagining she was alone like that made me feel sympathy for her. There weren't any flashing lights or sirens and she may not have been in any pain but she was there for a reason and she was alone and those electrical devices weren't exactly comforting. However, a slight movement caught my eye a moment later and I thankfully realized that she wasn't alone. A paramedic was there with her, just out of my view and reading what looked to be her chart--his turning of a page was what caught my attention. I still couldn't be sure what I was seeing, but I was glad that the stranger on the other side of the window was being looked after and wasn't alone in her time of need.
I glanced around for clues as to who she was or why she was there, but there wasn't much else for me to see through the small glass. I looked to see if any of her family members or friends may have been near or on their way to see her, but I was the soul onlooker around for miles. Outside of her skin and hair colour, I knew nothing of her and yet I still felt the urge to wish her well again and hope that she made a speedy recovery from whatever ailed her. I managed to make my wish just as the ambulance turned into the hospital's driveway and I continued on my way home down the street. I hope she's okay.
...
True story. I was driving home tonight and managed to follow an ambulance most of the way. It actually tripped me out that I could see right into the back like that while I was behind it--I'd never noticed ambulances had windows so low, but then this was a York Region ambulance and I suppose they are designed differently than the ones I'm used to. Really though, that glimpse inside of that little space affected me somehow--I wasn't scared, but I felt unsettled being able to see in like that; I felt like I was seeing something that I shouldn't have been able to see in the first place. I'm sure everyone's had that happen to them, but as I had to follow this scene in order to get home, it wasn't exactly the easiest thing to just look away. I really do hope that she's okay though.
She'd been there a while before I noticed her through the window. She actually startled me a little when I finally glanced over--her dark face and hair stood out starkly against the pale peach of the stretcher and the matching sheets pulled up to her chin. She was facing my direction, but I don't think she could see me; I think her eyes were closed anyway. Surrounded by as much medical equipment as she was and imagining she was alone like that made me feel sympathy for her. There weren't any flashing lights or sirens and she may not have been in any pain but she was there for a reason and she was alone and those electrical devices weren't exactly comforting. However, a slight movement caught my eye a moment later and I thankfully realized that she wasn't alone. A paramedic was there with her, just out of my view and reading what looked to be her chart--his turning of a page was what caught my attention. I still couldn't be sure what I was seeing, but I was glad that the stranger on the other side of the window was being looked after and wasn't alone in her time of need.
I glanced around for clues as to who she was or why she was there, but there wasn't much else for me to see through the small glass. I looked to see if any of her family members or friends may have been near or on their way to see her, but I was the soul onlooker around for miles. Outside of her skin and hair colour, I knew nothing of her and yet I still felt the urge to wish her well again and hope that she made a speedy recovery from whatever ailed her. I managed to make my wish just as the ambulance turned into the hospital's driveway and I continued on my way home down the street. I hope she's okay.
...
True story. I was driving home tonight and managed to follow an ambulance most of the way. It actually tripped me out that I could see right into the back like that while I was behind it--I'd never noticed ambulances had windows so low, but then this was a York Region ambulance and I suppose they are designed differently than the ones I'm used to. Really though, that glimpse inside of that little space affected me somehow--I wasn't scared, but I felt unsettled being able to see in like that; I felt like I was seeing something that I shouldn't have been able to see in the first place. I'm sure everyone's had that happen to them, but as I had to follow this scene in order to get home, it wasn't exactly the easiest thing to just look away. I really do hope that she's okay though.
Friday, October 01, 2004
I'm Being Ed-ju-ma-ca-ted
So I'm taking this D-level literature course called "The Erotic in Victorian Poetry" and basically all we do for the two hours is read poems from the Victorian era and try to figure out what sexual innuendoes we can draw from them. I need not mention that we have a lot of fun with this class so, without further ado...
Quotes of the Class:
"As a friend of mine says, 'Beauty is only a lightswitch away.'"
...
Guy: "Well, in this line, the hourglass represents the woman and Love here is the man who is touching it and manipulating it--when read this way, we can see that the man is slowing down and controlling the pace of their sex.
Me: (bewildered) "Guys can do that?"
Girls: *high fives all around*
Guy: (beat) "Yes, yes we can...allow me to give you my number..."
...
Prof: "...so we can draw from the pace and rhythm of this last line that there's an urgency to his love that makes him yearn for her to be on top until he reaches his climax and point of ecstasy here. Okay, well, that's all the time we have for today, thanks again for a great class--time to catch your buses."
Guy: "Yep, and time again for the usual Thursday night cold shower."
...
Hehehe, yeah so it's only once a week for two hours, but I swear, they're the most animated and giggly two hours out of my whole week. :) Call me a nerd, but I'm going to have to say that I like going to school.
So I'm taking this D-level literature course called "The Erotic in Victorian Poetry" and basically all we do for the two hours is read poems from the Victorian era and try to figure out what sexual innuendoes we can draw from them. I need not mention that we have a lot of fun with this class so, without further ado...
Quotes of the Class:
"As a friend of mine says, 'Beauty is only a lightswitch away.'"
...
Guy: "Well, in this line, the hourglass represents the woman and Love here is the man who is touching it and manipulating it--when read this way, we can see that the man is slowing down and controlling the pace of their sex.
Me: (bewildered) "Guys can do that?"
Girls: *high fives all around*
Guy: (beat) "Yes, yes we can...allow me to give you my number..."
...
Prof: "...so we can draw from the pace and rhythm of this last line that there's an urgency to his love that makes him yearn for her to be on top until he reaches his climax and point of ecstasy here. Okay, well, that's all the time we have for today, thanks again for a great class--time to catch your buses."
Guy: "Yep, and time again for the usual Thursday night cold shower."
...
Hehehe, yeah so it's only once a week for two hours, but I swear, they're the most animated and giggly two hours out of my whole week. :) Call me a nerd, but I'm going to have to say that I like going to school.
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