Are You Supposed To Be In...?

In class? What's it to you?

I feel sorry for my first class of the day...on any given day. It always gets neglected on days like this when I just couldn't be bothered. I can't really tell actually if it's because I couldn't be bothered or because I'm just THAT lazy. All I have to do is get on that bus and let it take me to campus (because that's what that bus DOES), but no. I'm going to just sit here and let time slip away...because that's easier that sitting on the bus and getting to school.

I think I'm a car person. Not that I'm an enemy of the environment, but when it comes to non-fun things, cars get me to do those things much more willingly--especially if those things are situated away from the subway line. See, I'm subway happy, but as for those buses...I dunno, I'm sure there's some conspiracy out there that prevents me ever from getting on the right bus to get me to the right place on time. But the subway, that's another story. Guaranteed one every 5 minutes on a bad day. See the difference? I mean, the TTC should have had enough courtesy to know that to get students like me to class on time (or at all, in this case) they should have extended the SRT line all the way out to UTSC. Man, I'd be in class EVERYDAY, even on days I didn't have to be there! (okay, maybe not...)

An update to those of you who read yesterday: the people in my house are A & E, two of Brodder's friends from Waterloo who have no better place to be this extended weekend. They were up all last night listening to music and doing computer things--to be honest (and this is no offence to Brodder, A, or E, it's just what I observed) they strikingly reminded me of those computer nerds that help Homer cheat his way through college. Haha!

BTW, I found my earring. Whether or not you read my post last night doesn't matter because I seem to have forgotten to write about having lost my earring in the first place. It was just a little silver hoop for the second piercing in my ear, but losing it would have been a huge inconvenience for me, not because I would have to pay like, $1 for a replacement hoop, but because I would have actually had to go to the mall, walk to that store, find the right sized hoop, and then find something to do with the extra earring (because you have to buy them in pairs) in the meantime. HUGE pain in the thwaist. Thank goodness I found it on the floor of my bathroom last night while...brushing my teeth.

Are you all enthralled with my subject matter? I'm sure you are. Bored? Read this. I know Lexxy Pie personally (though it's been a while) but the only thing keeping him off my sidebar is simply that he never posts enough. You'd think he would, being a writer and all, but then I guess when you get PAID to write stuff, you're not so inclined as to give out your genius for free, huh? I wish I got paid to procrastinate--I'd be SO rich right now!

And now, off to my second class of the day--yes, I suppose it IS my first since I didn't go to the other, but I can't allow myself to think of it as such...otherwise I won't go to this next one either. Oh screw it all, I should just stay home. pfft.

I Should Be Where?

I should be asleep. I should be asleep. I should be asleep. I should be asleep.

Tomorrow's the first game of two against UTM and we're battling it out for the #1 in playoffs...and I'm nervous. It's weird. This WHOLE season, I've kinda just shown up to games with the attitude of it being just another play date, but tomorrow's game's got more onus on it for some reason. Whatever. We'll kick the crap out of them. They may be big, but they ain't that big. #5, we've got our eyes on you... Muahahaha!

It's Shmelly's birthday this weekend and to be honest, I think I'm more hyped up about it than he is. Mostly because I've been ready for this weekend for about a month now and his birthday present is just BURNING a hole under my desk, waiting to be opened. Also, let's just say that I TRIED to plan some stuff to surprise him with this weekend, but due to his own planning, it fell through. Way to ruin your own surprise, stupid. :p Buuuuut, once he FINALLY gets to open his present, I think I'll forgive him. Maybe.

Brodder's home for his extended weekend and I just had my first encounter with him moments ago. Man, I forgot exactly how much facial hair Brodder had--it's enough to even give Boobin a run for his money (to give you an idea, Boobin sometimes shaves twice in the same day if he wants to look clean shaven by night). Hehe--there was this one time that Brodder's friend, Skinny, wrapped his birthday gift in manilla paper and then drew a cartoon pictures of Brodder's face before and after that birthday (I think it was his 17th birthday?). Anyway, Skinny's not much of an artist so the two pictures looked exactly the same...except the "Older" Brodder was COVERED in dots to show how much more facial hair he had now. Bwahahahahaha...*sigh*...you really had to have been there...

I was doing some rounds tonight and I have one word for some writers out there: paragraphs.

(Sorry Gennie-Boo for this upcoming part...)

Afterlife this Saturday is going to be OFF DA HOOK! SO many people I know are going to be there that night due to four birthday parties that I can think of off the top of my head. BigSexySoil, Shmelly, and two other acquaintances are choosing to be there that night to celebrate--CRAZY! I can't wait. If the drinks are as cheap as they used to be when Afterlife was my second home, all those birthday people are SO in TROUBLE!!! BSS: you're SO not walking out of there that night--you'll be LUCKY if you can still SIT in your courtside seats for the Raptors/Lakers game on Sunday! Muahahahaha!

I should be asleep. I should be asleep. I should be asleep. I should be asleep.

There are two extra people living in my house this weekend. Who they are, what they're doing here, and where exactly they're going to sleep, I have no idea (well, I have SOME idea), but what I DO know is, they're lucky I banished Shmelly to sleep at his own house tonight. I just hope that I still remember that they're here in the morning when I drag my half-conscious thwaist into the shower--any wrong run-ins with that just MIGHT be slightly awkward. *shudder*

Ahhhh, having written about this for a bit has eased my anxiety about tomorrow's game. Now all I have to worry about is getting my thwaist up early enough to get TTC tokens to get TO the game. Yay! Oh! And G is coming to the game--bonus! I was just telling Shmelly in the Truck-Truck about how G was my G for volleyball and how I'm excited that she's coming to watch me play for the first time in SO long--I just hope I make her proud! *chest-bump* That's for you, G! Oh, the excitement's running high now! Whoo-hoo!

Apples Aren't All That Effective

There are these commercials on SpikeTV that are directed towards men, urging them to live healthy and to go visit their doctors on a regular basis. Something like 7 million men in the USA haven't gone to visit their doctors in over 10 years. That's crazy! Compared to the number of women in the same situation (something like 900 thousand), that's a lot. I hear it's because men are afraid of hearing bad things from their doctors, but still, that's no reason not to get a check-up!

However...

Although I visit my doctor(s) usually more than once a year, I've suddenly developed a fear of going in for one specific check-up. I'm supposed to see this pain specialist sometime this week due to this pain (obviously) in my left wrist. I know it's from digging balls in volleyball and I DO want to get it fixed, but I'm afraid of what the doctor's going to prescribe me in order to GET it fixed--no more volleyball! I can't risk that.

As much as I refuse to go and avoid my abstaining-rehab, it's starting to look like I might not have a choice as my wrist has only gotten worse these past few weeks. I played both days this weekend and by the time I took a shower today, I was having trouble just putting cream on my right shoulder. Later on, as I was driving home from Shmelly's I was having trouble steering with my left wrist too. *sob* Shmelly's already written off the rest of my season for me (thanks for the encouragement :p) because he thinks it's THAT bad. But I absolutely refuse to believe so. Nothing a little athletic tape won't fix at game time, right? It just figures that it's this bad RIGHT before the two defining games of this season.

Do I give up? Never. UTM is going DOWN, wrist or no wrist.

It's Here! It's Here!

My long awaited copy of Kristine Sa's new album "reBIRTH" is here (I still say Jennifer Lopez stole Kristine's title). But, the wait was well worth it...not only is the album great, but mine is AUTOGRAPHED! Haha! As are the other three CDs in the photo that I have yet to deliver. But I'm so excited!!! Curious? Well, you can go to her site yourself--you know, at "her name" dot com--for a listen.

p.s. Hey Pablo...guess who's CD is the top right one in the picture? ;)

Oh My Hero...

Friends, visitors, you MUST watch this: The Fat Dutch Kid. Brodder found him while he was investigating some song that all the kids at school were singing. Boo and I DIED. No really, we DIED. WATCH IT!!!

...and then, in case you're interested in the lyrics, click here. DIED.

Today's Bumper Sticker:
"Don't tailgate me...or I'll flick a booger on your windshield."

Point taken, no tailgating by me!
...

Lost Again?

I realized it'd been a while since the last time that I went to see who and how many people have been by my site...so I just went to take a peek. Figures, there's always gonna be some interesting passers-by.

Yahoo!
"melody thomas massage"
"how to insert melody to my webpage"
"Sexy BBitch"

Alta Vista
"math grade six drowing angles"

So, can someone tell me what the HELL any of these things are? I mean, I can figure that "BBitch" and perhaps "drowing" are typos, but as to the massage, I dunno. And for the record, I don't insert for just ANYONE, you know.
...

Update: February 13, 2005 - 12:16am
We have a new winner for search words! In Yahoo! if you type in "push fart boo picture", you can find my page. Interesting...

Dorothea and Rosamond are "looking at each other"

I decided to take a random sample out of my essay to serve as my title. Thought I'd mix things up a bit. How'd I do?

Anyway, Shmelly just left for work from having crashed on my couch for a couple of hours so I felt the need to procrastinate, in denial of the fact that I just told him I was either going to go ahead and FINISH my essay, or go to bed and re-energize before doing so. In my quest to waste time, I came across the post of another blogger that I decided to steal, copy, and paste into my own post, for reasons that should be apparent to those who are aware...

"I can’t sleep, Husband number 1 (I call him that to keep him on his toes) is snoring like a walruses during a mating call. Not that I know what that sounds like or if indeed walruses make any mating noises but it seems a fitting description of the near deafening noise emitting from the bed."

Haha. It still amuses me. Perhaps maybe because I'm so tired and it's so early. Still feeling a little in the dark? Well, just substitute the word "bed" from the quote above with the word "couch" and maybe you'll get it. Maybe.

I've heard that some people snore loud enough to cause severe or complete hearing loss for their partner; those snores are comparable to the decibel ratings of a chainsaw. Can you imagine sleeping next to a chainsaw? If you can't imagine it, but would like to (god knows why) give it a try, call me, I MIGHT be able to hook you up. ;)

Hold My Essay While I Drink A Beer

Haha! Essay's still due...but 2% per day REALLY isn't going to kill me. It might hurt my feelings a little when I get my paper BACK, but it really isn't going to KILL me. I can handle a little paper cut.

Dawson stopped by tonight. It's funny. Of all the people I tell to "call me anytime--I never sleep," he's the only one that takes me seriously. I mean, I think he called me a little before or after 1am, just to see if I was home so he could drop off something. And then, he wasn't going to drop by for another 1/2 an hour. I mean, it's not like I was going to be sleeping or anything (Shmelly and I were just watching CSI) but he's seriously the only one that trusts my insomnia.

So, 20 minutes later (he finished whatever early) he lets himself into my house--he IS Dawson, afterall--and we spend at least 45 minutes just standing by the door, rotating our conversation topics between where we used to work, where we work now, and various drunken experiences. Between the three of us, which do you think is worse:
1) Getting driven home by your friends, only to get pushed out of the car to pass out on your front lawn
2) Holding your friend's hair back while she's dry heaving over the toilet, only to move her out of the way so that YOU can puke in the same toilet, OR
3) Having your picture printed on the second page of your school paper while puking at the pub crawl competition (your fellow teammate stole the front page).
I'll let you (un)faithful commenters decide.

Anyway, by the time he left, we'd decided to make the most of my upcoming reading week by getting a bunch of friends together and drinking up more experiences to share. I say that's a plan.

And What Are YOU Doing?

Haha. I have an essay due, and yet all of a sudden I have time to write. That's the way it always is, isn't it? However, to my own credit, my working habits haven't been horrid as I have read about 400-500 pages of literature since Friday, and that's not including the pieces of my own writing that I've had to review over the weekend before handing in my various assignments. My brain hurts.

Walking Racing down the hall today on the way to class, I breezed by a loud bunch of co-ed conversationalists. As I passed them I managed to snag one precious piece of datum before getting out of earshot again. The too-loud, male outburst that I heard?
    "Masturbation is efficient!"
Nice to know.

I felt flattered on Sunday. Squiggly spent all of Saturday shopping in the States. Before his departure--as is customary with anyone's departure--I wished him a safe trip and told him to "buy me something nice" (thought I never actually expect anyone to follow through with anything but the former part of that wish). Upon his return, I was pleasantly surprised to find that Squiggly, knowing my natural affinity obsession for Nike apparel, bought me a new sports bra--swEEEt. But that wasn't the flattering part. What flattered me was that Squiggly bought me the bra in a size medium-large. Awwwww. The thought was enough, but that he imagined me to have boobs out to eternity was even nicer! I don't know what he was smoking, but whatever it was caused him to forget that I'm ASIAN and have no hope of successfully filling up that bra without about $3000 worth of help. Hehehe. But not to fear--it's Nike and therefore I will MAKE it work. Thanks for the sweet thought, Squiggly.

Speaking of sweet thoughts:

So sweet.

Earlier today as I was studying at the last available desk to be found in all of UTSC, trying to prepare this essay of mine. Seeing as this was the last available desk for miles around, it was of course so aptly positioned so that my head was three feet away from a garbage can. And not only was my head three feet away from a garbage can--you know, the kind with that little flap of a door that you have to push your garbage through and run before that little flap of a door has time to swing back to snap close and thereby touch you with greasy garbagy goodness--but this garbage can was of course overflowing with garbage. And yet, despite this fact, people still insisted to use this one receptacle to try to dispose their stuff in. Not happening.

From my prime observation position at my desk, I watched scores of students walk up to this thing, stop, analyze the overflow, and decide to carefully balance their waste on top of what was already spewing out of that little flap of a door. Think of Jenga, only backwards. So sooner or later, some sorry person (whom I got to watch come along) was going to have to try to jam their stuff and run before that door or the overflow touched them. Well, not only did this person pause, ponder, and actually decide to go ahead with the cram, but they failed miserably and then walked away from mess which they had caused...the carefully stacked tower of crap toppled, and then the little flap of a door snapped shut, batting back out the garbage that had been holding it open. Remember, all of this, three feet from my head. Pleasant, isn't it? When I finally got up, I collected up all my lunch remains, bid farewell to that poor garbage pile and walked ten more feet down the hall to the next garbage can--which was inexplicably empty--into which I dumped my stuff. THINK PEOPLE!!!

Alright. That's enough. Back to the essay. However, I thank you devoted fan(s) for cheering me on, and being so patient with me. Reading week is soon so hopefully that will mean that I have more time to write, but then I AM supposed to be READING that week.

p.s. Happy New Year!