mumble

I have those sneakers

2009-12-24T23:40:00.003-05:00

I watched My Beautiful Laundrette recently. I nearly gave up on it about twenty minutes in because it hadn't really caught my attention. Still, I'm glad I stuck with it; it's one of those movies that have to considered in their entirety. I'm not even sure if I enjoyed it really but unlike many films I've seen and then forgotten literally the next day, I actually found myself thinking about it afterwards. Be forewarned, there's some awful acting at times.

It's been nearly a year since I last posted and I come back with a half-hearted movie review. I guess I just felt like monologuing? Tediously?

Crying makes my face itchy

2009-02-01T01:48:00.005-05:00

I just watched the new PBS Wuthering Heights. I don't know if it's a particularly good adaptation but found it effective. I read the book years ago when I was maybe ten or eleven and a lot of it went right over my head and I didn't like it. It made me sad and uncomfortable and I don't think I understood why back then. I do now. Watching the movie has me sad and unsettled. The last movie that had this effect on me was Love me if you Dare. The two stories are at heart much the same. They are both about two people who allow vindictiveness and self destructiveness to ruin their lives when there was no real reason for them to be so very painfully unhappy. When I saw Love me if you Dare a few years ago I left the theatre struggling to understand why the protagonists would do as they did, make the awful decisions they made. I think I understood but didn't want to. I have some awful self destructive tendencies that I chose to ignore for a long time and every time that I gave into them I pretended that it was an aberration, an isolated incident as opposed to a pattern of behaviour. It's all too easy for me to sympathize with a mad woman running barefoot through the moors on a rainy night.

My last post I was ruing the maudlin nature of the post which preceded it. Now I can apologize for the melodrama of this bit of writing the next time I log on.

Coffee, sex and sharp objects

2009-01-31T00:13:00.003-05:00

Damn my last post was maudlin. And then rambling. Ick. And as always written dead sober so I don't even have that excuse. After reviewing all those action flicks I didn't mention Quantum of Solace, the first Bond movie I ever saw. It was a lot grittier than I expected; no cool gadgets, no campy seductions. It wasn't what I expected but better than I expected. Yay low expectations. Now I need to see a Sean Connery Bond film.

It's a good thing I don't gamble seeing as I lost all my Monopoly money during my introduction to Mahjong. It was part of my Lunar New Year Extravaganza which occurred while I had a slight cold that turned into a full-blown fever/cough thanks to my intelligent course of no sleep. Still, it was a hell of a lot of fun.

Ou est la souris???

2009-01-02T02:00:00.009-05:00

My eyes feel sad today. Which is to say that I don't feel sad, or rather it's not really registering, but my eyes know. They are begging for an excuse to start trickling. I was at Sick Kid's earlier, laughing at my friend's story of comforting sobbing visitors who were there to lend support while her baby was sick. We did a lot of laughing considering that her boy was too sick for me to even see him. Sometimes you have to pretend things are okay, even when you're scared that they never will be again. I'm not good at comforting people. My hugs are awkward, (I came late to hugging and am still working on technique), but I can manage distraction I think. So I guess I'm trying to distract myself now.

On to cheerful irrelevance now! Have you noticed how much 'Lenin and McCarthy' sounds like 'Lennon and McCartney'? I've had the song Lenin and McCarthy stuck in my head all day and as I sing the two lines I know I keep saying Lennon or McCartney and yes, it was a while before the similarity occurred to me. I was amused. But then, I am very easily amused.

Speaking of amusing, I couldn't help laughing at Jesse Matheson's "The French Song". This, I think, is one of those things that are funny if you have the shared cultural context, that context in this case being a childhood in Canada taking French as a compulsory second language through to grade nine and the shitty French you end up knowing as a result. Random, bizarre vocab remains with you years later. Or you might find the song dumb.

I've been listening to a lot of CBC Radio 3 since the night I tuned in to the Edge, my usual station, only to find them playing DANCE-CRAP. And it kept going! Song after song was DANCE-CRAP! Live to air is no excuse so I had to find something else to listen to while I did my pre-dawn baking. Radio 3 isn't perfect, it's a mix of genres but if something crappy plays I can just listen to a band I like from their list until something better comes on.

I've been making some poor movie choices lately. I watched The Happening. It was beyond bad. There were times I felt almost physically ill, mostly when they were talking science. I had vague memories of Zooey Dechanel being a decent actress. She was so awful I kept hoping she'd die horribly. Soon. Which she didn't. Sorry for wrecking it for you. Everyone else in the movie also sucked. It all sucked. Every last second. Such suckiness.

I also saw Across the Universe, which, to be fair, Yaser warned me was bad. Another friend liked it though. About thirty seconds in, I kid you not, my sister turns to me and says, "I think I'm going to agree with Yaser". It took me longer to reach that conclusion but I eventually did. Pointless story lines, pointless characters. They managed to take a relevant issue and turn it into pointlessness. As a story, it was awful. As a bunch of music videos strung together, it was a few decent songs but mostly mediocre to not good.

I have a certain fondness for dumb, brainless action flicks. It's a weakness. I especially like heist films. Recently I saw The Bank Job, which was not as light-hearted as I had expected. It wasn't bad, but I'd say only watch it if you're doing so for free, (good old TPL). I also saw Smokin' Aces, which I'd put on par with The Bank Job. It got off to a slow start but picked up later. I like my action flicks fast and easy. No thought involved. Then there was Eagle Eye. Good brainless fun. Lots of running. Lots of crashes. Predictable? Sure. But that's not the point of it. Wanted was bizarre but if you disregard plot and are capable of completely suspending disbelief, it is good, brainless fun. Yay special effects, fights and chase scenes! Mumble mumble Matrix mumble you say? Meh, I only saw the first one and that was AGES ago. So yes, I went "ooooh, shiny" and enjoyed myself. Most recently I watched Protegé. It wasn't really an action movie, more of a crime thriller, but I really liked it. And I learned a lot about heroin. There was a cheesy dismemberment scene but aside from that I thought it was quite good. Unfortunately I couldn't find a trailer with subtitles.

Having successfully distracted myself to the point of sleepiness, (and perhaps you too), I'll end this long ramble of post.

I like the thought of eating flowers

2008-10-28T00:22:00.003-04:00

I tried to sugar rose petals today using this recipe. Not so successful. If you follow the recipe, the sugar sets up so fast that the petals just get stuck to the syrup and tear or you get them out but they glom up into a messy lump. I heated up my sugar with a little more water and tried to dip the petals again, this time over a hot water bath. That worked a little better. A couple hours later and they still haven't set so I tried sifting the icing sugar over a few of the petals and I'll check on them in the morning. If they still aren't any good at that point I'll try this recipe which sounds like the biggest headache ever. Individually painting each petal with an egg white mixture? Ick. It might have occoured to you to wonder why I'm going this. The answer? No good reason. I just wanted a few to use as decoration and picked the last few roses from the garden before the frost struck (they've been languishing in a vase since Thursday). Now that it's not going well I'm starting to feel stubborn. I've only got two roses left though so one more attempt is all I have left till next summer.

I am beginning to think that I should just give up and turn this into a out and out food blog. Or scrap this and start up a new one. Thing is, as stated before, I'm fickle. I'd just get bored and lose interest altogether if I had that narrow a scope.

It was hailing today. I usually spend autumn with my shoulders tensed up in dread and expectation of winter and I really shouldn't because this can be a gorgeous time of year as I've noticed from time to time, usually with a measure of shock. There are those cold, crisp days where the sky is super blue and all the red and yellow of the leaves verges on unrealistic. I think I usually have a worse time of autumn, being so busy looking over my shoulder for winter, than I do when the real cold actually gets here. At that point I just give in and try to make the best of it (or least that's what I do of late as opposed to hibernation). Once it's winter, I have spring to look forward to after all. At one point my goal in life was to move someplace where it was news if the temperature got below 10 degrees Celsius. I'm slowly (very slowly) making my peace with the cold. And the snow. And the ice. Just give me a few more years and I won't bat an eyelash that first day of flurries.

Make the bitter batter better

2008-09-18T01:12:00.003-04:00

I've been doing a lot of baking of late and for the first time I noticed the scent of butter. I usually use a hand-held mixer (which results in keeping one's distance)but having to bake four cakes in succession, I thought it would be easier to use the stand mixer. I was bending over the bowl as the butter was getting pre-beaten into softness and suddenly I noticed the lovely scent. I can only imagine fresh butter to be even better. So the next time you're baking something, take a second and check out the smell as you mix it. I just felt the need to share that with the world. At one in the morning.

Banisher of monsters, dispatcher of ghosts

2008-09-11T21:47:00.004-04:00

Shortly after my last post, (an eternity ago in other words), I was punished for my whining with an extended visit from extended family. Not that it wasn't fun; it was. But there was a lot to get used to in the little kid department. Suddenly there was no privacy, a pair of 12 year old eyes were always peering over my shoulder as I checked my email or facebook, little ears listening as I spoke on the phone. While my friends for the most part are well behaved, you know how it is, there's the occasional profanity (which I'm guilty of too), off coloured jokes, that sort of thing. And I felt bad just shooing her off since I knew she was bored and I well remember myself as a kid following around my mom's cousin who was maybe 8 years older than me, wanting to do everything she did, thinking we were having conversations as equals. I don't know how she put up with me. So I tried my best to do the same but found myself snapping at the poor girl sometimes. Still, I tried to make up for those slips with 'just us" outings or getting her opinion on what to wear. I hope that helped.

I was sharing a room with the younger of my two cousins who is 8. Sometimes her friend would sleep over and I'd sleep down in the basement but after she had a nightmare the first night the two of them had a sleepover (and she was so indignant that she'd prayed and had a nightmare anyway,) she'd want me to stay until she fell asleep. So I'd end up asleep on the floor and not really minding because it was such a novel feeling, having my presence be sufficient for someone to feel safe and sleep soundly. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy. Even though I have a younger sister we never really had that kind of a relationship. It's almost always been just the two of us and so we grew up with the relationship of people the same age and for the most part that's how our parents treated us (much to my annoyance at times since she'd be allowed a hard won privilege at the same time as me). After they left, it took me a while to get used to sleeping alone again, to having the space to sprawl but not having the sort of silly pre-sleep conversation one has with a sleepy 8 year old who insists that she is entirely too wide awake to sleep now (only to doze off mid sentence).

So yes, I'm lonely again. Feel free to roll your eyes.

Sand storm

2008-06-18T00:03:00.002-04:00

I'm all sad and lonely, missing my extended family. One of my nieces convocated on the week-end and I was just looking at the pictures and wishing I could have been there. I spoke to one of my uncles on the phone a few minutes ago and his daughter (my cousin) is convocating next month. I won't be there for that either. I spent the first six years of my life with this (uncle) and another uncle always around. After that, I've never really spent much time with them, don't actually have many memories of either of them, just that warm comfortable feeling of always having loved them and knowing they loved me. It's that weird bond you make in childhood that doesn't really go away, no matter how much time you spend apart. The other uncle passed away last year and talking to this one reminded me of that again. So now I'm sad.Living in Toronto I don't have much in the way of extended family. My parents were never too keen on my having friends, "If you want to go out, go out with your cousins". Except I don't have any here. Last year I got to spend an expended period of time with my cousins and I found that I just didn't like some of them. Which surprised me though it shouldn't have. I mean there's no reason I should like someone just because we're related. On the other hand, I found that I got along really well with some of the others. I think part of it was that the cousins I didn't mesh with, teen-aged girls, had certain expectations of me that I just didn't meet. I was supposed to be all glamourous and foreign and instead I was the embarrassing country cousin. Having a contrary streak a mile wide, being told to wear more make up and jewellery just got my back up and I ended up dressing down more than I normally do. I got along much better with the kids and the guys, which is weird because I'm not too fond of children and have a bit of a chip on my shoulder about guys and the vastly superior treatment they get from the "adults". Now I'm trying to stay in touch with everyone long distance, which, although much easier with the internet, is still not the same as regularly hanging out. That said, this is still home and it would be really hard to leave here even though at one point, not so long ago, there was nothing I wanted more.

It's better than crack since it's both cheaper and easier to obtain

2008-06-17T13:42:00.007-04:00

I am still enamoured of Richard Bertinet's Dough, enough so that I've decided to get my own copy instead of repeatedly renewing the library's. I still haven't quite got the hang of kneading the dough French-style but it's coming along. My baguettes got a little misshapen when I transferred them to the preheated sheet in the oven but I'm quite happy with my fougasse, (though I admit it doesn't look as pretty as the one on the cover of the cookbook). They're made out of baguette dough but you don't let them rise after shaping and just bake them immediately. The one in the picture is from my second batch to which I added roasted garlic which was mild and slightly caramelized, almost sweet. And notice my attempt at artsy food food photography? That is early morning sunlight coming in through the blinds since I baked these for breakfast from dough I left to rise overnight. I think half the fun of fougasse is the shape. Of course nothing beats the smell of fresh bread in the morning either. I have such trouble inserting photos in here though, blogger messes up all the formatting. Highly annoying.

Speaking of high.... Yaser may mock my twenty-five dollar espresso machine but it's enough to meet my needs. I acknowledge that what it makes isn't of the same quality of some fancy Yorkville cafe or perhaps even Second Cup but my standards are low and it's certainly superior to the instant freeze-dried coffee I normally drink. Which brings me to my problem. I'm drinking espresso in the same quantities I drink regular coffee. Which is bad. Very bad. I'm starting to realize that there might be some sort of equivalency between shots of espresso and shots of tequila. I don't know what the exact ratio might be, never having tried tequila, but perhaps something along the lines of 5x=2y where x=espresso and y is tequila? All I know is after a mug of espresso I start acting a bit crazy, get a bit twitchy and giggly. And then there's the 'hangover'. Brutal stomach ache from the dehydration, the headache indicating that I'd better take another hit of caffeine soon, the ability to taste sounds and touch colour (okay, that last bit I made up). So, as soon as I finish the iced coffee I'm sipping right now (three shots of espresso and a cup of milk over ice), I'm going to start weaning myself off my drug of choice.

¡ Soy una botanista! ¿Cuanta cuesta el sombrero?

2008-05-27T00:10:00.005-04:00

Sometimes I read my posts and wonder what exactly I was on while writing. I'm even tempted to delete them but then decide against it because hell, it's still me. I'm stupid sometimes and there's no use pretending otherwise. Once I'm a diplomat or agent for CSIS or something maybe I'll go through and delete the more embarrassing bits but until then, (I'm expecting that phone call any day now), I'll just leave well enough alone. A few months ago I was having dinner with a friend of several years and she asked me, "You don't drink, right?" I said no and she said, "That's what I thought but I swear I can remember you being drunk." Seriously, why bother with booze when I can just skimp on sleep?

Tomorrow I plan on baking bread. The best part is the smell of it in the oven. I've been meaning to try baguettes for a while but it seemed pointless because we had no salted butter in the house. Believe me, there is little that tastes better than hot from the oven bread and salted butter. If I actually make some and they turn out well, I'll post a picture. I'm not too happy with my instant yeast though; I'd like to try fresh. I should check if the grocery store by my house has any but it seems unlikely.

I have very strange allergies. I must be allergic to something specific because I'm fine mowing the lawn and today I was in the ravine by my house which was full of dandelions, wildflowers and weeds but was fine but I was horribly sniffley in High Park yesterday. I love the ravine. It's full of birds and butterflies and small animals. With all the reeds growing it's hard to tell that it's a concrete channel and not a real creek running through it. Today I only saw a red-winged blackbird but I could hear ducks hidden somewhere by the water. There's a big willow and flowering crabapple trees; very pretty for what it is. I used to walk through everyday when I was in high school and could see foxes, ground hogs, raccoons, skunks sometimes. I remember going there to think and cry under the willow when I got my first (completely unsuitable) proposal at 18. There's nothing like sunlight and grass to make me feel better.

Rats. Lots of really big rats. Indeed.

2008-05-24T02:29:00.004-04:00

God I'm sleepy. So why am I awake at half past two? Have I been out partying hard and am now scribbling off an incoherent post in a possibly inebriated state? Noooo. Yes, I was out tonight but was home by 9:20 after a wild time in Chinatown. Okay, "wild" might be mildly to grossly inaccurate. Still, I had a really good day: saw people I didn't expect to see, saw people I wanted to see (but hadn't in entirely too long) and bought myself a pretty wooden bangle in Kensington Market for four bucks. That's got nothing to do with why I'm both sleepy and awake. I don't know why after an absence of weeks I felt it absolutely necessary to post right this instant and about absolutely nothing at that.

I'm waiting for the heat but it's not here yet. It's May, heck, it's practically June; I want to break a sweat! I baked yesterday and will likely bake tomorrow but did not bake today. I liked today. I was talking about real baking btw, with flour and eggs and the such. Nothing allegorical.

I love Kensington Market. There are cats just walking around looking bitchy but acting slutty. I'm being gratuitously profane now. And likely incoherent.

Also, I can walk again. Yayyyyy! Okay, sleep now.

You're a slut, you're a bitch, you're a whore (Oct 23- Nov 21)

2008-04-10T00:03:00.010-04:00

I am a Scorpio. I am also a bitch. There are some people who think the two facts are related. I worry about people like that. Still, I'm willing to take the excuse; "I couldn't help it! My astrological sign forced me to tell you to fuck off!".

In other news, I suck at Risk. World domination forever eludes me!

Can you see the cracks in my sanity yet? If the grass had come in yet I could at least lie about outside and bask in the sunlight. I'm brimming with energy and all I can do is hobble!! I know I shouldn't complain; it could be worse. I'm trying to keep things in perspective but I'm bored and lonely. I'm going to start cooking tomorrow; I think I can manage a little prolonged standing now. I got this great bread book from the library, Dough by Richard Bertinet, that I've had to return. I only got to make one thing before hurting myself, the chocolate buns. The kids loved them but they were too chocolaty for most of the adults. I think I'd like to make it again without the cocoa powder in the dough and with a raspberry pastry cream instead of chocolate, and substitute dark chocolate chunks for the chocolate chips. Yes, the original was chocolate pastry with a very rich chocolate custard filling and chocolate chips. A bit much perhaps but I liked it. I really wanted to try his french bread recipe.

I can take pictures of landscapes well enough so why does my food photography suck so much? These looked much better than they do here. Well, that's something to work on I guess.

Mostly purple

2008-04-09T00:23:00.004-04:00

I almost never listen to the radio now. I just have my playlist on Winamp, a bunch of mixed tapes and some burnt CDs I listen to all the time. Which is not good because it's made things stagnant. I'm like some old person who refuses to acknowledge that music was created past the 60s (or in my case the 90s). The only time I come across new music is when shopping (almost always crap), in commercials, (which strikes me as sad) or when someone recommends something. I was watching "The Hour" on CBC tonight, (God only knows why- boredom? masochism?) and was reminded of the old days when I used to listen to George on Punkorama at 2am while I studied or worked on assignments. Back then the only music I got was stuff that the public library carried. I'd get CDs and tape off the songs I liked. Which meant that I only had on hand music that the library system would buy, (maybe that's the real reason I like so much CanCon). So I mostly listened to the radio. I've really got to start listening to the radio again; I'm getting bored with the music I have now. There's only so many times you can listen to the same songs, even if you're cycling through 900.

Now's a good time to listen to the radio. I've messed up my ankle and will be "mobility reduced" for another four weeks or so which is supreme suckiness. The weather's finally warming up too!! To pass the time I've been watching a lot of movies, being out of books at the moment. Also, I am now being fondly referred to as "Limpy".

Movies I watched in the span of four days (while I wasn't allowed out of bed):

Love for all seasons (dumb but amusing)

Omkara (good)

Spirited away (good)

Pan's Labyrinth (really good)

Volver (not as good as I expected)

North and South (technically a 4 part mini-series and quite good)

No Smoking (confusing- he "wakes up" one time too many)

I also watched a hell of a lot of soaps and disc one of Firefly (which is really good). Now I need some good books for a change of pace.

Why aren't I Amish?

2008-03-16T02:00:00.006-04:00

One of my favourite songs of all time is "Stereo" by The Watchmen, (who I believe are named after the graphic novel which is also very good and left me with the disturbed empty feeling after I read it that I take as a sign of its effectiveness). To this day I am bitter because I wanted to go to their last concert in Toronto before they retired and my parents finally gave me permission literally hours before the show began at which point it was, of course, sold out. I've heard that The Watchmen are great in concert and at the time Stereo was my favourite song. I swear I listened to that song almost every morning because it seemed to capture all my fears and insecurities and set them to music that I could angrily bounce around my room to, singing loudly along. It's been ten years since the song came out and I still think it's great and it's still line for line the voice silently screaming inside my head on bad days.

Lyrics to Stereo

My life is a stereo, how loud does it go?
What songs do I know?
What ever happened to my plans?
What ever happened to the life I thought I'd have?

My life is a stereo, kinda cheaply made though
How bad does it show?
Whatever did become of all my friends?
Whatever happened to the likes of all of them?

My life is a stereo, turn me on and let's go
Turn me up louder, I'll scream as loud and clear as I can scream
And if you like what you're hearing, please hang on to me

I like being here
And I'm all hooked up wrong
Hang on to me, I'm one of a million
One of a million, one of a million
Please hang on to me

My life is a stereo, out of phase but you know
60 cycles humming,
Whatever happened to my friends?
Whatever happened to the likes of all of them?

Oh, I like being here
And I'm all hooked up wrong
Hang on to me, I'm of a million
One of a million, one of a million
And my lights are like candles
I'm so afraid of new technology
I'm in the race and I don't, oh I don't want to be
Yeah I'm so afraid of what's to come for me
I'm in the race and I don't, I don't want to be

Life ends in stereo,
Pack me up and let's go
Put me anywhere,
Please don't think of leaving me behind
Whatever happens to you, I'll get on just fine

I'm one of a million, one of a million
One of a million, one of a million
One of a million, one of a million
One of a million, ooohhh
Ah, ladada

Tonight I was thinking of this song in very literal terms because my parents got a GPS system for the car, something I fought against long and hard. I am highly resistant to change of the technological variety. I still chop by hand or use a mortar and pestle rather than pull out the blender or food processor. I fought the good fight against CDs, then DVDs, MP3s, cell phones. I don't know why since I adapt fairly quickly once the offending tech is brought into the house despite my protests. Not that I've given up my mixed tapes.

My parents on the other hand love gadgets and it was only a matter of time before the GPS entered our lives. I should be happy really, considering my father's nonexistent sense of direction (something I inherited btw). I swear, I had a near phobia of giving directions to anyone based on my watching my parents on road trips which are pretty much the only times I ever see them fight. Not only does my father have no sense of direction, he can't even follow along well when my mother tells him where to go, ending up lost and cranky. Now, although my parents got the GPS over my protests it still fell to me to figure out how it worked. We have a very strict division of labour in my family which is why I have only done laundry thrice in my life (it's my sister's job) and why no one but me has read an instruction manual in the past 15 years. If it has words, it's my territory; "You like to read, see what this says...." Gah!

Update

2008-03-15T03:48:00.002-04:00

I fixed my links! Only three for now since that's how the template is set up, so I just put my three favourite blogs. I don't really know the etiquette of this stuff. Does one need to obtain permission before linking to someone?

Larvae

2008-03-15T02:54:00.006-04:00

I finished "White Teeth" and I really enjoyed the second half of it. Then I wondered if I was supposed to enjoy it. I've been feeling guilty of late; I feel like I'm going soft, not using my mind. My days consist of cooking and cleaning (for the most part) and while I read quite a bit, it's purely for enjoyment. I don't really think about what I'm reading. I should pick up some nonfiction maybe. Or start reading a few journal articles, Nature is available online I think. Thinking about my reading habits, I thought I'd check the 100 best novels list put out by Time and see how many I'd read, (not that that list necessarily means quality), just out of curiosity. I was surprised at how few of them I'd read (only eighteen). I'd expected that number to be higher if only because I'd have been made to read some of them in school (I hadn't, not even one, maybe because my English teacher was obsessed with CanLit?). "White Teeth" was on the list, which I didn't know, so hey, my count is one higher than it would have been last week! Unsurprisingly, I've read most of the sci-fi on the list (though I haven't read "Slaughterhouse-Five" yet). I was surprised to find "Ubik" on the list. I'd read it during my Phillip K. Dick phase (brought on after watching Bladerunner). I expected that either LeGuin's "The Dispossessed" or "The Left Hand of Darkness" would make the cut but maybe I'm biased because she's easily one of my favourite authors.

At the moment I am reading "The Mysteries of Udolpho". I have been trying to get through it for almost two months now, having decided to read it after watching Northanger Abbey, wanting to feel like an Austen heroine. I was expecting melodramatic horror but so far there has been a lot of scenery, a brief romance and poetry directed at scenery. It reads like a nature guide. I'm half through and there's still nothing more sinister than a step-father trying to marry the heroine off against her will. Well, I still have two weeks left before I need to return it to the library so I'm going to keep at it. I have faith that it will eventually win me over!

I swear, it looks better than Baby Bear's bed

2008-03-12T01:53:00.004-04:00

I went out in the snow barefooted a little while ago. The back yard looked so soft and inviting, I just gave in to the impulse and went out as I was, PJs, coatless. What nearly held me back was that my hair was out. I don't do a damn thing with my hair down. [I had my hair cut back in December and it's now (at 2 inches below my shoulders) the shortest it's been since I was four years old (a bob), normal length being somewhere between my waist and knees, usually to my hips. Life is so much easier now but I'm used to the constraints of way too much hair. I watched Jodha -Akbar (not too good but Hrithik doesn't massively over-act for once) and afterwards my sister teased me about not so much as washing a plate without putting my hair up first when Aishwarya can have a sword fight with her almost knee length hair twirling about unbound.] Still, I went out and the snow felt so soft and comfy and I didn't even feel cold but now my feet are all tingly and I swear my throat feels sore (psychosomatic, I know). I'm glad I didn't give into the impulse which assailed me once I was inside again to go back out and just have a nice lie-down in the snow. I mostly resisted the urge because I didn't want to get my pyjamas all wet, the hems of my trousers already annoying cold and clammy against my legs.

I'm reading Zadie Smith's "White Teeth" at the moment, (all of Yaser's imaginary internet friends have mentioned it at some point and I was intrigued). I'm about halfway through and had 'that moment'. The a-ha moment. The one where you feel a sense of real connection with one of the characters or you nod your head sagely, having been in much the same place yourself. In case you've read the book, it's the scene where Millat and Irie first arrive at the Chalfen's home and Joyce Chalfen is tearfully examining her delphiniums for signs of thrip, "...a nasty pest that had already butchered her bocconia." It made me shake my head emphatically and say out loud, "God yes!", an exclamation of sympathy for someone who has also had to contend with the fucking nightmare that is thrips. [My experience? First there was thrips, stunting growth, causing a stress response in my poor plants. So we got mites to eat the thrips. The mites come in bran that you sprinkle in your pots. The thing is, the bran facilitates fungus growth so my plants were attacked by fungus. Then we got nematodes to deal with the fungus. God only knows what new infestation would have resulted from the nematodes had I stuck around to find out.] I was amused by my reaction and then disturbed. I wasn't disturbed by my colossal geekiness (which I've long since made my peace with) but that in reading a book about the immigrant experience (and brown Muslims in in the 'west' at that), I felt no real connection before the bit of gardening. I thought about thinking about it (ha!). I mean it must mean something. Something deep. Some socio-cultural thing. I can't help feeling that there are a lot of people who would read this and lift an eyebrow at me. A judgemental eyebrow. But that's okay! I love being judged! Anyway, maybe the disconnect is because a I'm first generation immigrant but have spent most of my life here? Meh.

I swear, my feet are are still tingling and it's been over two hours since I went outside. Maybe I should put on socks?

Oooh, in case anyone else is into PCR, this is odd and amusing. Enjoy!
http://bio-rad.cnpg.com/lsca/videos/ScientistsForBetterPCR/

Also, I put a link in (for White Teeth). Whoo-hoo!! Technological competence!

Post-script

2008-02-26T23:26:00.000-05:00

I don't understand! The pencils are back!

If I don't feed you, I don't love you

2008-02-26T22:56:00.005-05:00

I was all happy with this template because it had these little pencils that let me edit my posts when I spotted a typo without having to leave the blog and go into edit mode. Except those pencils are gone today. Where are my pencils!?! I'm sure that it's something I've done or haven't done but I can't figure it out right now and am mightily annoyed. I'm still happy with this template though; it's nice and simple. I think I'm coming back to blue after my love affair with red.

I baked a cake today, to take to someone whose sister had passed away. It's what my people do: some dies, you bake; someone gets engaged, you make preserves, someone's born, why that merits the preperation of an entire meal! In my passive agressive way, I used to make make food and then give it to everyone except the person I didn't like. Yes, yes, I'm petty. We've been over that. But I digress. The point of this was today's cake, which was sliced up and dished out then and there. And someone asked me if I took orders. I'm not even sure if she was serious. I think way back when I wrote about how my mother wanted me to just stay at home and maybe take orders for cakes and things. Well, it looks like that might be working out for her. And I don't think I'm happy about it.

Lion's teeth

2008-02-24T21:19:00.004-05:00

Places I'd like to visit (ripping off Yaser here). I've got a top twenty here, randomly ordered (well, they're broken into regions). I want to go to some of these places for the most random reasons like grade school projects, or in jokes which no longer have any relevance in my life.

Morocco
Egypt
Kenya

Turkey
Italy
Greece
Spain
Malta

Brazil
Suriname
Bolivia

China/Hong Kong
Thailand
India
Bali

New Zealand
Papua New Guinea
Bali

Antarctica

Guatemala

A top five if I really had to commit?

1) Antarctica
2) Morocco
3) Italy
4) China/Hong Kong
5) Suriname

Anyone who knows me knows I hate the cold. More than anything. Despite that I'm obsessed with going to Antarctica. Call it a childhood dream I want to fulfill despite knowing better.

Beaver tails

2008-02-22T12:55:00.003-05:00

Life being what it is, here's a list of somethings I want to do while I live in Canada:

Toronto stuff:

1) Watch a film at the TIFF

2) Go to a fashion week show

3) Freeze my ass off at Nathan Phillips on New Year's Eve

4) Watch fireworks down at the lake on Canada day

Canada stuff:

1) Visit all the provinces and at least one of the territories

2) See the Northern Lights

3) Camp at Algonquin

4) Go fishing

I figure the Toronto stuff should be pretty doable with the likely exception of the fireworks. Canada Day usually means some family thing which may or may not be fun. The Canada stuff is expensive and therefore much more difficult to pull off. I might go camping in Algonquin this summer though. The difficulty is, my parents wouldn't let me go if there were boys because it would be improper. They would also not let me go WITHOUT boys because that would be unsafe- we need big strong men to keep us safe. Ick. Man, for the first time in my life I wish I had a brother. Or at least male cousins who lived in the same country.

Tan

2008-01-21T14:24:00.000-05:00

I have a couple of themes that seem to crop up again and again in my writing:

1) My hatred of winter and cold

2) Heat, humidity, my obsession with grass and dew

3) My cynicism on the topic of love (and occasionally a lack of cynicism on the topic of love)

3) Death, violence, depression

Despite the usual morbid dreariness of my blog, when I write poetry, my favourite topic is the weather. Yes, sounds exciting doesn't it? The weather channel in stanzas. I'm sure you're turning away in disgust. Still, the one thing that makes me really happy is to lie on the grass, barefoot, hair unbound, in direct sunlight, with a tree in view. I let the ants explore my limbs and enjoy the feeling of my skin turning browner. So I try and capture that peace, that mellow joy when I write. And winter deprives me of that.

My prose on the other hand is often violent and depressing. I can't manage entire pages of happiness it would seem. And one can only write so much on the topic of grass.

Cardamom

2008-01-17T23:06:00.002-05:00

I finally changed my template. To hell with Yaser, PhD comics and the Dictionary of Canadian English. I'll put links up again someday.... I still don't know what possessed me to go with lime green in the first place. The only reason I could think of was that I went by the name, the template being called "Son of Moto", a name I found amusing even today. I think I've previously covered how I'm easily amused.

Remember how I was gloating about not being depressed anymore? Hah! So much for that! But I am better. Not suicidal. Usually able to get out of bed and function. Having serious trouble leaving the house though. I'm afraid really. Afraid to even ask my parents to go out. It's so very stressful and the slightest bit of extra stress seems likely to push me over the edge.

I was inspired to write today. I was reading through this blog: http://beanay.wordpress.com/
and it reminded me of how good it felt to write. I dug out my "writing book", a lovely black leather thing that that best friend I have totally lost touch with gave me once. It has these long leather strings so that it can be tied up which allows me the illusion that my thoughts are safe inside. I know that the only things keeping my mother from going through it are a lack of interest and my legendary bad handwriting, (once on a road trip, people passed the time passing around my class notes and trying to decipher them). I scribbled down a hasty poem which needs work but is the sort of thing I write only for myself. Something meant to be cathartic and help me organize me thoughts that I don't see as being of a style that lends itself to sharing.

After I wrote my poem I took a look at the last thing I wrote. It was a few short paragraphs of what was going to be a short story and it ends very abruptly. I have very frustratingly not made any notes about where I was going with it; I guess at the time I was certain I get back to it soon. It's got characters from a story I no longer have, having left the disk with my only copy in a computer at Gerstein. The next day when I realized what I'd done it was too late. The disk was gone, no sign of it even in the lost and found. I was near tears since I'd worked on that story so long and it was a draining piece of work about a mutually abusive relationship. I didn't have the heart to try and rewrite it. Anyway, my paragraphs involved those same characters but was obviously set years before, when they were just getting to know each other. The writing is not the greatest; I think I was just trying to get down in words the atmosphere, the moment that had come to my mind at that moment. I don't know why the end is so abrupt and obviously incomplete, even if it was to be a vignette.

"...bent her head so he could feel her words warm and slightly moist against his jaw."

What words?? What the hell did she have to say? I annoy myself. Well, I've decided to make notes next time I write. I'd originally intended to extend that original now gone forever piece into a collection of short stories and actually had a second, (not missing), story already written.

As an end note, I've become somewhat better about back ups since that incident, but not much. This blog is certainly not backed up anywhere, not that I'm sure there's much here I'd want to save.

Picking up the spare

2008-01-04T00:24:00.000-05:00

Posting two days in a row. Not something you're likely to see around here again. I appear to have emerged from my blue funk at long last. I went out today, (or yesterday rather) though I didn't stay for the play. And I didn't even consider jumping in front of any moving vehicles. Woohoo! All told, it was a pretty good day. I overslept so when I actually did wake up I was running around like mad, trying to get ready in time and by the time it occurred to me not to go, I was pretty much ready and just went with the flow. I got to the bus stop just in time for the lights to change and the bus to drive off but the guy drove just past the intersection and waited for me!!! Seriously, it was a miracle as regular TTC commuters will know. It certainly put me in a great mood. I even had a nice time with my friends after the initial awkwardness. So yay! I'm happy again!

Jump! Jump!

2008-01-03T00:15:00.000-05:00

As may have come across in previous posts, I have certain issues. I get depressed. I know everyone does, I just seem to get that way more often and do it more thoroughly than a lot of people. Then I don't know how to handle it and set about messing up my life by avoiding it ("it" refers to my life but perhaps should also refer to my depression). I also cut myself. I have a long list of reasons why I think I do that. They are probably stupid. The few people in my life who know about the cutting disapprove. So I try to stop. I've succeed for months at a go, then there always comes a slip-up. I've tried therapy. Didn't help much but on reflection I think my therapist, while very nice, wasn't right for me. I've never tried meds. Mostly out of a sense of fear that if I ask for them, I'll be told I'm stupid and don't need them and should get over myself. I feel that if I really needed them, someone would have noticed by now.

I've been especially suicidal of late but tonight I feel like I'm starting to come out of it. I'm going out tomorrow to watch a play with friends I don't really want to be with right now. I've just lost that sense of connection with them. I'm dreading the whole thing but I'm making myself go. Or at least I think I am right now. I might talk myself out of going by morning. On the other hand I might go but jump in front of a train on my way, which I really don't want to do. It strikes me as an inconsiderate and selfish way out. Honestly, I feel disconnected from reality, like my actions belong to someone else. I'm scaring myself a little since I don't feel like I know what I'm going to do next.

It's a Ramadan Miracle!!!

2007-09-29T00:13:00.000-04:00

I have no idea why my blog is lime green. I don't like lime green. I'd even go so far as to say that my feelings for lime green verge on dislike. I'm too wishy washy to commit to actual dislike. I considered changing my template but then I'd lose all my customizations! You might ask, what exactly are these customizations? Well, I have all of THREE links to the left. That's right, THREE. So fine, other than the one linking to Yaser's blog, they're random but back when I put them in I had this (totally unjustified) sense of accomplishment. Now if I change things, I'll have to redo the links which would suck.

Anyway, layout problems be damned, I have more important things to talk about. I'm going to Nuit Blanche!!! Don't ask me to explain how that happened when I normally have trouble getting permission to stay out till 9pm. I'm not going to analyze this too much; just go out and hopefully have a great time. All-night contemporary art thing here I come!

My new friends are all adults and my old friends all have scattered

2007-09-28T02:25:00.001-04:00

I'm all sad and lonely. Yet another one of my friends left today; running off to far Australia. I went with her to the airport and we've promised to stay in touch. She probably will. I probably won't. I suck that way. I'm really going to make an effort and try this time though. It's that point in life where everyone's scattering, growing up, settling down or blowing wild like tumble weeds. As the title of the post, (which comes from a Sloan song, Autobiography) implies, the friends you make later in life may be wonderful but they aren't the same as people who knew you when you were young and in that stage in your life. The people I befriend now may turn out to be absolutely wonderful but we won't have the same crazy stories and stupid conversations. When I'm 65, they won't be the ones who make me feel like a ditzy teen-ager. It's just a different relationship. So, as more and more of my friends get further and further away, the feeling that it's the end of an era gets stronger. I'm determined that unlike with my high school friends, I'm going to keep things going this time.

All the love you bring, won't mean a thing....

2007-09-24T00:47:00.000-04:00

I've got a bunch of depressing songs all queued up on Winamp to fuel my self-pity. Some of them make me cry. Some of them make me feel better. One even makes me mad. I call it my grey music. Most of the songs on my grey list are break-up songs since it seems that there's nothing like a broken heart to get the sad music flowing. Here are some of the songs on my list:

Set fire to the third bar- Snow patrol with Martha Wainwright
My favourite song right now. It's one of the songs that makes me feel better.

Strange and beautiful- Aqualung
It's so sweet. Fragile and delicate aren't the right adjectives for a song but those are the words that come to my mind.

Hallelujah- Rufus Wainwright
There are so many versions of this song but I like his best. There a certain rawness to his voice that's almost painful to hear. He's Martha Wainwright's brother btw.

Rabba- from the soundtrack to Musafir
I don't actually understand Hindi but even having no idea what it means this song is lovely. I did watch the film later and from the subtitles, it's about begging God not to let you fall in love. A good prayer really.

Work- Jars of clay
I was flipping through the channels late one night and this song caught my attention in the 3 seconds I normally spare per channel. It was being performed on the Christian station. It sounded even better "pseudo-live". There's one line that always gets me, "I'm not afraid of drowning, it's breathing that's taking all this work", because it's the truth.

Weight- Sarah Slean
I still kick myself for not going to her free performance in the Arbour Room. At the time I'd never heard of her and I did something stupid instead, like study up in the Map Room. This song just sort of rolls over you, or falls down like heavy rain. I think the male vocals are Hawksley Workman whom I also adore (and did see in concert).

Mad World- Gary Jules
A bit obvious as far as downers go. I mean it has to be with a line like, "The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had". Still, it's a good song and has a little extra kick if you've watched (and liked) Donnie Darko.

Blue Flashing Lights- Travis
This was a bonus track on one of their CDs. I'd listen to it again and again in high school. It felt like the story of my life. Well, there's no alcoholic in my life but the sentiments.... Everyone has to have the teen-aged angst song they felt summed up their life and this was mine. It's my sort of angry song.

Skin- Alexz Johnson
It's a fake song, kind of. Or rather it's by a fake person. According to my sister it's from some CanCon show called Instant Star. In which case it's pretty good for a fake person. If that makes any sense....Bah, I'm getting sleepy now. Guess I'll add one more song, make it an even ten. I know, I'm a slave to convention.

E ajnabi- from the soundtrack to Dil se
Another Bollywood soundtrack. The songs weren't subtitled on the DVD I watched so I don't really know what it's about. Ajnabi means stranger though. I think a song might even be more effective if you don't know what the lyrics mean. You can just hear the music and emotions.

So yeah, if you need a soundtrack to slit your wrists to, the above songs are a good start for your playlist.

Stabbed through the heart

2007-01-28T23:44:00.001-05:00

I'm feeling especially inarticulate today. My best friend just gave up on me and walked away. That must say something. Either about how much our friendship was actually worth or about just how much of a mess I am. I'm in actual physical pain which is surprising. I try to steer away from melodrama but damn, my chest feels tight and my throat feels sore from trying not to cry. I'd be a little more credulous of the "it's for your own good, I've become a crutch," line if all of this hadn't happened on the day we were supposed to go to a walk-in about anti-depressants. I should be fair. I've been a drain, a veritable millstone around the neck of late. It was one of those "walk away before you drown too" situations. I know all that but I still feel abandoned, hurt, betrayed; like I can never trust anyone again. Had I been a better friend, I'd have been the one to walk away and do the right thing. I wasn't, I didn't. I let things drag on too long and now I feel so utterly lost. Don't tell me to pray, to keep busy, to fix my own damn life like an adult. I know what I should do. What I should do and what actually gets done are rarely the same thing.

Scars across my arms and thighs

2006-11-21T23:38:00.000-05:00

"When inward life dries up, when feeling decreases and apathy increases, when one cannot affect or even genuinely touch another person, violence flares up as a daimonic necessity for contact, a mad drive forcing touch in the most direct way possible."
-Rollo May, Love and Will

I just started reading Harlan Ellison's Deathbird Stories. He ends the first story in the collection, The Whimper of Whipped Dogs, with the quotation I've copied above. The story itself was dark to say the least but it's the quotation that really intrigues me.

It's easy to go through a day and realise that I've had no real contact with another human being, not physically and not in the way of having been affected by or affecting someone else. One can be surrounded by family or co-workers but have the most superficial of interactions. Sometimes it seems so unnatural, almost frightening. Certainly lonely.

Does that result in violent behaviour though? At least for some people? I think he's talking about a general increase in societal violence but not all violence is directed outwards. I would also expect an increase in the amount of mental illness and depression as well as drug use; probably rather more than violence. I'm intrigued enough to to give Love and Will a look.

As for the word daimonic, it appears to have been coined by May; here's link to a definition of sorts. This was certainly the first time I've come across the word. http://koti.mbnet.fi/neptunia/psychology/maydem1.htm

Heaving bosoms and throbbing... stuff

2006-11-05T23:52:00.000-05:00

I never feel so acquisitive as when I walk into a bookstore.

Sometimes I'm just overcome by my lust for words. I want to devour poetry and prose and the lyrics to CanCon rock/alternative songs I listened to in the 90's. Some authors leave me with a physical sensation after reading their work; there's a taste on my tongue and a weight on my body. In some high school English course, I remember coming across a quote by Coleridge. It defined prose as words in the best order and poetry as the best words in the best order. I don't think I really agree with that but I understand what he means. There's a point where the beauty of the prose is such that it feels like poetry. I'd rather read a dull book than a poorly written one.

I'm not sure what brought on this disjointed rhapsodizing. I'm just craving words right now. I can't find the right ones myself that will explain the near sensuous pleasure of walking into a used book store and breathing in the scent of crumbling, acid-yellowed paper and the older, crisper pages that hold up so much better with time.

One of my favourite poets is Rainer Maria Rilke. What astounds me about his writing is how beautiful it is even though I'm only reading the translations into English from the original German. It makes me wonder what I'm missing. I know that when I write I agonize over every word, waiting for one with the right weight, the right consonants next to the correct vowels. Even in translation Rilke's work consists of the best words in the best order which seems like magic to me.

Different authors do different things. I love Saki's sometimes morbid humour and William Gibson has the ability to make me feel like I've been drowning in his work and have finally come up for air at the end of it, especially in Neuromancer. Right now I'm reading a collection of Calvin and Hobbes comics and they're just so funny and disturbing; they remind me of Saki actually.

Truth is, I like books better than I like most people.

I'm a loser baby...

2006-11-04T18:20:00.001-05:00

Having recently turned twenty-five, I am now officially an old maid. Spinsterhood has descended upon me, I have reached that expiry date stamped on the underside of my foot and girls in their teens will be warned against turning into me.

I've been trying to go out and have fun in order to distract myself from the feelings of worthlessness but it's not worked out too well. My mother starts calling me repeatedly after 6pm for updates on my location and to encourage me to "come home soon". Also, my socializing is interfering with Eid visiting and causes no end of embarrassment as my parents have to explain why I'm not home at 4pm on a Saturday.

Kill me now.

Even with being in the lab for most of the day I'm still going through two or three novels a week in an effort to escape from reality. I'm upset at the end of the day and read in bed by the dim light of my lamp until I'm too exhausted to keep awake. Then I spend the next day tired and jumpy. I'm still unemployed. Still plain and mouthy and graceless. Still a failure in other words.

Number 10 scalpal blade

2006-06-24T19:14:00.000-04:00

I've been pretty much crying on and off since last night. I'm back to where I was a two years ago with the the same problems and the same fears. I've come up with ways of dealing; non-constructive ways I guess.

Mud

2006-05-28T23:56:00.000-04:00

I've been typing and deleting because I don't know what to say but I need to say something before I bleed out. There are just too many pieces, more than I can handle and it's all starting to come crumbling down again. I feel shakey and scared and I'm wondering who I can count on. I can't count on myself, I know that much.

My friends have been great. Well, the important ones have anyway. That's what makes them the important ones I guess. They've been trying to say the right things and keep me from wallowing too much. I'm a great wallower. It's a skill. Like knowing when the loading dye is at exactly the middle of your gel without looking. It's a pokemon power. I just made an inside joke that no one who reads this would get. Meh.

One good thing has happened. I've started writing again. Well, that's rather an enormous exaggeration. The truth is I scrawled one poem on the back of a sheet of scrap paper Thursday morning and haven't looked at it since. But I'm looking for my silver lining and I'll fabricate one if I must. See, I'm attempting to stop the wallow.

All drugged up

2006-05-13T01:56:00.000-04:00

I'd started a new post last week, had two thick paragraphs done when my mother came in without knocking and refused to leave. So that was the end of that; my own fault for trying to post during the day.

I've been sick lately and the doctor thought it was asthma but the inhaler hasn't been helping much; he also thought it could be allergies, but the allergy meds aren't helping either. So I'm going back to see him Tuesday since it seems to be an infection. I hate being sick. I guess everyone does, I'm just a big baby over it, maybe because I'm lucky enough to normally be quite healthy.

The post I started last week was a rant on arranged marriage and how I hate being forced to pretty myself up to impress some guy I don't even know. Nothing new there, just cliche brown girl stuff. I hate being a cliche.

Spring has sprung, it's finally come....

2006-05-01T00:36:00.000-04:00

I work for no money. Volunteer. It's not too bad; the worst of it is the crap music they have going. I could listen to my MP3 player or Walkman but I don't want to seem anti-social. It's bad enough that I hide out at the back of the lab when possible and keep conversation to a minimum. I just feel weird there. Like I don't fit in. I'm not a student, I'm not an employee. I'm just someone who's messed up a great deal and is finally doing something constructive about it. But it's depressing. I should be preparing to defend my Master's thesis now, according to the 'Big Plan' of how my life's supposed to be. I guess one shouldn't get hung up on things like that. I'm trying to fix things. Slowly.

I'm learning stuff, interesting and useful things I can stick on my resume. I do a bunch of grunt work too, some of which is super sucky, like washing glassware and some of which I rather enjoy, like mixing soil. I love doing that, it's relaxing. Feels like working with dough. I don't bother with gloves.

I did this year's first grass cutting on Wednesday. Weather is getting warmer now, soon I can start my sun worshipping. Every year I vow this will be the year of sunscreen but it doesn't last more than a week. Sometimes I'll see something on skin cancer and try again for a few days in July. Forget New Year's resolutions, I'm making some for May Day.

1) Use sunscreen
2) Drink water
3) Talk to people in the lab

Petrosinella

2006-04-15T03:58:00.000-04:00

Easter week-end and I have no real plans. Haven't been feeling too good the past few days but I'm going to do a little shopping at the Eaton Centre tomorrow. I need more hair stuff. I go through mine pretty slowly; the last bottle lasted me about 2 years. I can't be bothered to actually do much with my hair, just brush it and bun it usually. I might buy a new hair brush too, mine's kinda sucky.

I'm going to be working in the lab full time as of next month. That the good news. The bad news is I'm still going to be doing it for free. Oh well, I'll be helping with an experiment instead of the odd jobs I do now so that should be good experience. I'm going to job hunt during the summer.

Looks like this summer will be filled with houseguests. I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to that. See, when someone comes in from out of town, everyone has to "give them a dinner" because it "wouldn't be nice" otherwise, regardless of the fact that they might prefer to do fun stuff in the foreign city. Stupidness. Yet, no one really has any choice. You don't give a dinner, people will talk. You don't go, people will talk. That's what comes of having a society that has nothing to do besides gossip and eat at each other's houses. God save the freaks who try to do anything different.

Paper Plate and Ribbon

2006-04-09T23:47:00.000-04:00

I went to a baby shower yesterday; for a girl I knew from school and I had a great time, although I knew only two of the people there. It was just one of those days when I felt great and everyone was friendly and funny and everything was perfect.

I've been reading tonnes of late. Just finished P.D Jame's "The Lighthouse" which I think is her latest murder mystery. Really good book, very character driven. I reread "The Snow Queen" by Joan D. Vinge. Sometimes rereading a good book after a long time is as good as a first time read. You can remember a few details, you know it's going to be good but you're still surprised in places. "The Snow Queen" is sci-fi, won the Hugo or the Nebula, can't remember which. I definitely reccommend it. I'm on "Flowers for Algernon" now then onto a bunch of LeGuin. I don't know how people who get nauseous on the subway manage.

Apple

2006-04-06T00:05:00.000-04:00

So this friend of mine has it baaaad for a guy she met some weeks ago. Thing is, he's seeing someone, has been with the girl a few years now. Sucks, right? He's giving off interested vibes though and they're spending tonnes of time together. She says she isn't encouraging him to break it off with his girlfriend or anything but if he did... well she wouldn't say no to dating him. To further complicate things, due to very different religious backgrounds, both their families would freak over them dating. Now, this whole situation has me bothered and it seems silly. Why should I care? And is my friend really doing anything wrong by just hanging out with this guy? I mean, he's the one in the relationship, he's the one who should be watching himself, it's not my friend's responsibility to keep him from falling for her. Still, I find myself thinking less of her for, while not directly encouraging it, spending lots of time with a guy she knows is in a long term relationship and feels might be somewhat interested. Don't get me wrong, if he does end things with his girlfriend I'm blaming him, not my friend. Just because you're presented with temptation doesn't mean you have to give into it. But I think, knowing the score as she did, it would have been better for my friend to have just walk away.

Shotgun Wedding

2006-04-01T15:18:00.000-05:00

It's April fool's day. One of my best friends in high school moved State-side before we graduated but she'd come back and visit and we kept in touch at first. She was real sweet and quite gullible and my plan was to freak her out by calling on April 1 st to tell her I'd been married off by my parents (since she knew they'd been casting around for that NBB since I was about 17). I'd say it had been a real last minute thing with some out of towner and then there'd be much screaming, squealing and "Is he the skinny, goofy nerd of your dreams?" before I confessed. I never did do it, forgetting about April 1st unless someone else pranked me, and now we've totally lost touch. I can't even call her since I had my phone book stolen (as a consequence of having my bag stolen). So now I feel sad, not because I can never pull that joke on her but because she was one of my favourite people and I haven't spoken to her in maybe three years.

Muahahaha

2006-04-01T00:53:00.000-05:00

Week-ends suck. I feel like such a slob because I just end up watching movies or reading the whole time (unless I do some cooking). I'm not allowed out on week-ends in case someone drops by and discovers I'm not at home.

"What? She's out gallivanting?? She must be a woman of easy virtue; I shall spread this news throughout the land so that none shall be so rash as to marry the harlot". Well, that's what my parents are afraid will happen anyway. A good girl stays home to cook, clean and entertain.

I think I'll be a bitch when I grow up and refuse to have tea in the house just to torture my guests. Cue petty diabolical laughter.

Antacids

2006-03-29T20:23:00.000-05:00

God, it's been ages since I updated. Yaser finally got rid of his link to this place so I decided to spite him by actually posting. Hah!

So, what's going on with me these days? I'm still going crazy, especially when I'm at home. I get back from the lab where I volunteer and the tension starts to work into my shoulders as soon as I get off the bus. I cross the street over to my house and hesitate before going up the driveway. Finally I stand in front of the door and debate just turning around, getting on the next bus and not coming back. In the end of course I pull out my key and let myself in, my stomach tight and a feeling of nausea increasing with every step. So much for "Home, sweet home".

I need a full time job, maybe something where I work week-ends too. I look forward to when my parents finally go to bed so that I can have a little time to relax, breathe without fear.

Tar

2006-01-09T18:31:00.000-05:00

Cake decorating is about as close to making art as I get these days. I was into photography back in high school but I think I enjoyed developing the pictures better than taking them. A precursor to lab work I guess. And there's the poetry I still occasionally write but never try and get published, in part because I'm sure it would get rejected but even more because it would be too much of a hassle. I'd either have to write stuff that wouldn't horrify my parents or somehow keep everything secret. The first is unappealing and I'm just not motivated enough to undergo all the subterfuge necessary for the second. I don't lie all that well. Except for the fun big lies I tell at parties at 1 am. Anyway, back to art, I was thinking about it because I wanted to write an entry here but I was feeling too ick inside to do it. I could write about the ick except that the ick seems to prevent that. I'm just too down to craft the pretty sentences. I'm not sure I could aptly describe how I feel even if I was having a bright sparkling day. I feel like an almost matte, black splotch with a vinyl sheen on it in places, sort of trying to engulf the canvas. A still sticky to the touch blotch that feels like cold clammy flesh. That's the piece I would create if I did do that kind of stuff. Instead I'm going to listen to loud music and read William Gibson's "Virtual Light" which, a few chapters through now, is starting to seem familiar. I think I read this or its sequel or prequel. I tend to start books without realising they're part of a series until I'm half done and wholly confused. I just got Steven Brust's "Sethra Lavode" but it turns out to be third in a trilogy so I'm going to have to hold off on that. Suckiness.

Going.....to the chapel....of loooove!

2006-01-05T17:47:00.000-05:00

I'm back from visiting relatives State-side and am housebound since my family is thoroughly sick. Some nasty flu-type thing that I have managed to escape so far. I've been dosed with coriander seed tea and been commanded to take a multivitamin but today my throat is all scratchy and my head aches. I considered sleeping early but I think I'll watch a three hour Bollywood flick instead. But no mush. I'm just not up for romantic gunk these days; it seems to make me bitter. Perhaps because all anyone can talk about is getting me married off and the actual wedding. People are actually picking out what they're going to wear!! Crazy crazy.

It's just driving me mad, that everyone acts as though there is no meaning to my life till I'm married. I get married and then poof! I become a real person. Well, I won't really get much respect until I have a child but at least I'll be given more respect than the 10 year olds.

Booty's kin

2005-12-22T10:09:00.000-05:00

Today my mother apologized to me for the first time that I can remember. Her normal stance is that she's my mother so she doesn't need to apologize. It really threw me for a loop, I don't quite know how to take it. I can't help feeling like there must be something behind it and I'm worried; what if she's sick or they've found someone to marry me off to and she wants to part on good terms. I don't know... it's just so unsettling.

On a happier note, I counted twenty-seven squirrels in Queen's Park today just by turning around. So those are just the squirrels I spotted and the count doesn't include the ones scampering in the treetops or out of the range of what I can see without my specs on. I wish I'd had something to feed them, they were coming right up to me. Soo cute! I should post some squirrel pictures.

Clinging to the pole like a stripper with stage fright

2005-12-14T22:48:00.000-05:00

So, Nomes, (who's linked off Yaser's blog if you're curious), writes about subway encounters and he commented that people on the subway don't make eye contact or smile or talk to each other. Way back when in first year, when I started commuting (1 hour each way), I was smiley, made eye contact, even offered the occasional comment. The result? Every dirty old brown guy tried to make a move on me. Also, all the subway wierdos seemed to make a bee-line for me. Like the crazy lady who started screaming at me that "people are starving in India not Africa" and called me a racist. Umm, for one thing I was discussing Iraq, and another thing, it was a private conversation. The crazy woman just wouldn't stop screaming at me. Then there was the old hippy guy who thought that I'd be interested in hearing about his sitar lessons, (I wasn't).

Not that I've never had perfectly nice encounters. There was this one woman who wanted directions and she ended up sitting next to me; she was going to a choir recital and was sad because her husband of 45 years had passed away. Also, there are the little kids. Sometimes I'll play peek-a-boo but they get cranky if I get bored and stop. So, yeah, now I usually try and have a book on the train, it's just easier that way but even if I don't, I find people don't bother me anymore. My sister says it's because I tend to look like I'm spoiling for a fight and clutch my text book like I'm planning to bludgeon someone with it. I figure whatever keeps creeps from rubbing up against me is a-okay but I feel a little sad that I've lost that openness now.

Filthy lucre (now gone)

2005-12-12T00:35:00.000-05:00

I shopped and shopped hard today. Not the recreational, trying on stuff you can't afford, smearing a different shade of polish on each fingernail, damn why aren't these shoes in my size kind of shopping but the hardcore, got to get this done by whenever-o-clock type of shopping. I did it, dozed on the subway while clutching my bags like teddy bears then staggered through the door and managed to drag my stuff upstairs before exhaustion claimed me. Now, I've normally got the stamina for these retail missions but today I was rather agitated to start off with having had a rather stressful week at home. Then I worked out in the morning which mean I'd dragged myself out of bed at 5:30am. Then to top it off, I was dragging around two bags of sugar in addition to my gym clothes. Luckily vader was there to shoulder the burden most of the time but when I had the bag on, I tried to sit on a bench and actually tipped backwards, all turtle on my back, needing to be righted. Oh well, I'm going to read the Tale of Genji now. I swear, those guys keep bemoaning the inadequacies of the women they court but they don't seem particularly sparkly catches themselves.

Raiyana, tyanna, rutta

2005-12-05T23:38:00.000-05:00

Those Telus commercials don't make me want a phone in the least. In fact, it was the longest time before I even realised what they were for. Those ads just make me want a bunny. Actually, multiple bunnies. They just look so soft and cute and clever. I'm sure they do all kinds of horrible things to those rabbits to get them to do all that stuff but whatever. I want one. Sometime I want them to look at, sometimes to cuddle but sometimes I want to cook one. I've never cooked a rabbit. For some reason I think it would taste good simmered in red wine with lots of herbs and some garlic, (not that I've ever cooked with red wine). Um, yeah. I'm weird.

Blubber

2005-12-04T02:44:00.000-05:00

I have this friend. At one point I thought we were pretty close but of late I just feel like she hangs out with me only because of the friends we have in common. I know I've changed somewhat since we first became friends, I've become more girly for one thing. Also, there's been a tonne of things going on with me at home, mostly involving my parents' attempts to marry me off and my own attempts to avoid that. So I admit it, there have been stretches where I've been distracted, dealing with my own stuff, but that hasn't affected my other friendships too much. I don't know what to do exactly. I recently found out that something huge had happened in her life and she hadn't told me. It certainly explains some things but I don't know whether it's okay to mention that I know or to ask her what was going on. Sigh. Still, we've made plans to do stuff together during the holidays so hopefully we'll sort things out then.

This really wasn't much of a post, more me trying to sort out what exactly it is I'm thinking, feeling. I don't particularity as though I've succeeded though.

A lady of the night

2005-12-01T22:38:00.000-05:00

So, I actually did get all tarted up Monday night and went out to a poetry reading/party type thing, expecting that all my English type friends would be there but no.... I ended up at a table all by my lonesome, chewing on a straw, wishing I'd just stayed at home and read an Agatha Christie. Now, what I should have done was make a little conversation, have asked to join someone else's table, maybe batted my eyelashes a bit. I just enjoy batting my lashes.

When New Year's comes around, I'm going to resolve to be less nervous. I mean it's no big deal if a stranger blows me off, right? There was one person I knew at the party but she was busy as hell so I didn't get much of a chance to chat and it was only as I was leaving that a second person I knew came in. Turns out the party didn't really get started till later on. Damned curfew. Man, I'm just too early for everything. It feels like I always leave a place just as the fun's starting. Still, my goal this Christmas break is to have lots of lunch dates and I'm dragging my lazy-ass friends out of bed at a un-godly hour so that we can spend more than an hour together. They SHALL see the sun rise.

I'm going to have some mindless conversation dammit, and maybe some sushi too.

Please caffeinate me

2005-11-27T23:59:00.000-05:00

Tonight I want to go dancing; tart myself up, wear shoes so uncomfortable I'll long to take them off in a half hour and skid about in stockings. I want to just bounce about to music I hate in an anonymous crush of bodies. I'm not much for dancing but sometimes I want to give into a sense of wild abandon and be someone else, waiting for some old Offspring song to come on so I can scream along to the lyrics. I want to gulp down free water, forget I've got make-up on and rub mascara onto my knuckles, dodge groping hands and clumsy feet. I have clumsy feet but at least I keep my hands to myself. It's actually been over two years since I've hit a club. I don't really like them though apparently there's no smoking in Toronto anymore which would deal with my main complaint. Takes forever to wash cigarettes out my hair. Two shampoos, tonnes of conditioner. So, anyway, I'm feeling wild tonight, (dancing is about as wild as I can manage), but there's nothing to do. I'll have to satisfy myself with a murder mystery I guess.

Hoikety Choik!

2005-11-26T00:09:00.000-05:00

I've been playing with the new camera and I took a few pictures of St. Mike's when I was downtown. I'm feeling all technologically competent which is totally unjustified considering that most 10 year olds can also use a digital camera and post pictures online. Still, I'm excited. I should get Photoshop now so I can fiddle with things. I used to be pretty good with it back in high school when I used it for the yearbook and newspaper but that was version whatever was around in 2000. I'm guessing it's changed since then.

Having an awful time doing the layout on here though.

Pithy

2005-11-21T23:34:00.000-05:00

So, I used that pointy thing I drive into frogs' brains (in order to kill them) to puncture a hole in a bottle of fish sauce. It wouldn't screw off and I couldn't cut through it with a knife so I gave up and just stabbed the little nubbin. No worries, I thoroughly sterilize my dissection kit after doing anything icky with its contents; after all, I know perfectly well what kind of stuff I've gotten on it and have no desire to infect myself or others with blood flukes or other unpleasant organisms.

I'm oddly attached to my dissection kit. It's just so... handy. My TA in the last lab course I took was a bit weirded out when I pulled out my own gadgets one day but really, I had no choice!! In a supposedly world class institute of learning, I've had to deal with a lot of crappy equipment while acquiring my degree.

In my profile I say I'm a former student. I guess really I should say I'm unemployed. Truth is, almost 3 months since I took my last course, I still define myself as a student. It was bad enough that I did that before I graduated, (I mean there should be more to my identity than that shouldn't there?) but it's just sad now. I have to somehow cobble together a sense of self outside of school. There is more to me, isn't there? Yet I feel like there isn't.

I feel like my relationships with my friends are ephemeral, temporary. For one thing, I've lost touch with all my high school friends and recent attempts to contact them again have born no fruit which makes me think they've moved on with their lives. The second thing is that with my crazy curfew (7 pm unless I have permission) and not being allowed to go out on week-ends nine times out of ten, it's just getting difficult to see some of my friends.

Then there's my relationship with my family which is, more often than not, highly strained. I mean my immediate family here, since I have very little extended family in Canada. There's also the circle of my parents' friends and their kids who I have to socialise with and do so extensively. Except that feels so artificial since I've adopted a rather air-headed persona in order to fit in and please my mother. Occasionally I let some sarcasm seep through and then I get the weird looks.

Well, hopefully I'll get a job soon. Then I'll have something new to define myself by.

Helminthic

2005-11-17T23:46:00.000-05:00

I've been quite depressed lately; only getting out of bed because I had no choice in the matter. I'd do what housework I had to then watch t.v just to pass the time or reread books because they were comforting. I have a stack of postcards from a friend of mine who moved away that I haven't read yet and emails I haven't replied to dating back weeks. Still, I think I've finally snapped out of it. I feel human again and it's time to take control of my life. Well, at least a little bit of control. I've decided to look for jobs and volunteer placements, maybe take a course or something.

I've ordered a tonne of books from the library; familiar authors but books I haven't read. I like reading books by authors I'm used to; no matter how easy the writing style, I find it's always slower going the first time I read something by a writer. After that it doesn't matter how sticky or cluttered or complicated the style, it feels comfortable. So I've got myself a stack of Agatha Christies, some William Gibson and the new P.D James coming. Hopefully most of them will be ready for pick up by Saturday. I am planning to reread Guy Gavrial Kay's "The Summer Tree" though. It'll probably make me a bit sad, I remember the start of the book is set in con hall. Even when I read it in high school I'd been in con hall once for a day of lectures by Nobel Laureates and was able to picture the setting quite vividly. There was this evil creature crawling on the glass of the dome in the story which no one noticed but when I read it I thought, "I would have seen it!" I spent most of those lectures staring up at the dome since it was in the days before I started wearing specs. I miss school and I miss being on campus. Most of it was just so beautiful. My mother got a digital camera so I can finally take pictures of all the trees and buildings and ivy I want. Next week I'm going to photograph everything until my fingers get numb with cold.

Half a score

2005-11-13T02:37:00.000-05:00

Do you remember that little segment they'd do on sesame Street (I'm fairly sure it was Sesame Street though I guess there's a chance it was The Electric Company) with the ball and the numbers, where it would keep going and they'd sing the numbers? One, two three Four Five, six seven, eight Nine, Ten, eleven tweeeeelve, eeelve, TWELVE! It doesn't really work as a description unless I'm actually singing it. I used to love that. They'd do it for different numbers, never higher than twelve (which was my favourite since it was the highest). Ahh good times. I watched Sesame Street until I was almost nine for no better reason than there wasn't much children's programming back then. When I moved to Canada, there was that monkey and bear who spoke French. That was cool. I was thinking about that, (yes there was an instigator behind this rambling), because this is my tenth post and all I could think of when I realised that was teeeeeen eeeeen TEN. This is why I didn't get A's in university. My brain is full. It's all crammed up with bits from Sesame Street and the plots from all the sci-fi I read. Perfectly good space being taken up by fake-science instead of homework-science.

I started writing in here knowing my readership of two. Still, I tried to pretend they didn't exist because if I didn't I'd have to write for them, wouldn't I? I mean, it would only be polite to cater to my audience. This medium seems so strange and artificial. I'm not as candid and open as I could be because I know that other people could read it, (and at least one person has), and I don't exactly write for my readers even though I know who they are. See, I can't write whatever I want in case I get found out somehow. I know I could make this private, in fact I had a short lived private journal for a while, but knowing that people could read this, strangers as well as the terrific two, gives me a little incentive to update. So whatever. I write as though I'm writing to the world, as though I'm writing for myself and as though I'm writing for aunties who are eaves-dropping through an open window. It's weird but hey, I never did hit ten posts with my private online journal so I guess I'll see how long this lasts. I'm fickle though so I can't say as I expect much.

Oh, before I got distracted, I was going to write about dehydration. I'm very thirsty right now but I don't think I'll actually do something about it. Yes, I am weird.

Happy happy, joy joy

2005-11-09T23:31:00.000-05:00

I've never taken anti-depressants. I don't know if I need them, the only therapist I went to was some holistic person who was into crystals and stuff. The only person I know who took some didn't like them and stopped taking them cold-turkey. I admit, the thought of being able to just take something and be all better is alluring. Of course, I'm not that naive; I know there's no such thing as a magic pill, that everything can't be fixed with a wave of the hand and that even if an anti-depressants fixed some of it, that they'd do so at a price. Nonetheless, when the depression is at its worst and it feels like it will never stop, I'd welcome ANYTHING to make it all go away.

As for getting help, well, when I'm not depressed I convince myself that I'm blowing the memory out of proportion and that anyway, it will never happen again. When I'm depressed, I'm in no condition to do anything, sometimes I'd just go to school, find a sofa and cry for hours instead of studying. So, yes, basically I find myself stuck in a rut and now that I'm out of school, I don't have the privacy for crying or the opportunity to see someone if I wanted to.

Moo or something unlike it

2005-11-08T00:55:00.000-05:00

I'm depressed right now. For some reason I thought investigating camel cheese might cheer me up and oddly enough, it did so I'm actually much less depressed than I was. I was just wondering if people did make cheese from camel's milk, remembering an incident when I was about four noticed the milk bubbling over the mug in the microwave. It freaked me out, it looked so creepy. I asked what was wrong with the milk and was told that that was due it its being camel's milk, that was just what camel's milk did (it wasn't actually camel's milk). It's strange how things suddenly surface in one's mind. So I googled camel cheese and it turns out that the production of the stuff is a very recent thing, calf rennet being unable to coagulate the milk due to the composition of the fat chains etc. There's a vegetable rennet they're trying out in Mauritania that seems to work though the texture of the resultant cheese is a bit off. And reading all this stuff cheered me up. I think I miss learning. I should pick up some non-fiction or maybe even go through my text books. I guess that was the dullest post ever but I'm sure you're glad to know that there's now camel's milk cheese in the world

Suckiness

2005-11-01T00:35:00.000-05:00

I have so much work to do so instead of doing it I'm chatting on MSN. My cake turned out horribly and I'm all depressed. I'm sleep deprived. First that makes me hyper and fun, then I get cranky. I'm cranky now and even all the army of the undead and paralyzing powers of eco conversation isn't managing to cheer me up. Super crappy pseudo-post for a super crappy pseudo productive day. I mean I made something, it just sucks.

Cauldron burn and cauldron bubble

2005-10-26T00:46:00.000-04:00

I'm so depressed. And dehydrated. I'm feeling oddly resistant to drinking even though my throat is closing up because it's so parched. Being a housewife-in-training doesn't suit me. I hate being stuck at home with a trip to the dry cleaners being the highlight of my day.

I love cooking but the joy's going out of it; I feel as though everything I make is a test. There's talk of me needing to learn how to cook this and cook that and I just want to scream, "Leave it the hell alone! I don't want the one thing that makes me feel competent, confident and relaxed corrupted. I mean, yes, I'm a competitive cook. If we're having a dinner party I will spend days deciding what to make for dessert, but that's MY business. If I want to turn cooking into a bloodsport that's because of my own damned competitiveness so let it be. Don't turn this into yet another arena where I feel pressured to make you proud and justify my apparently worthless existence. Don't belittle me, don't criticize the lack of salt in food you KNOW was made while fasting, don't pat me on the head like dog when you approve of the results. In short, leave it alone. It's mine. I let you eat the results, be content with that."

So yes, I have issues with food and food preparation.

Pyromaniacal

2005-10-24T00:24:00.000-04:00

It's autumn. Green burns to red fades to brown. A thoroughly depressing time of year, (even if it can be bracing and beautiful), because it's the precursor to winter. Con Hall looks wonderful all lit up by those old-fashioned lights if you walk past after dark, crinkling through the dry leaves.

I'm a summer child; from the desert to the tropics, bone-dry or humid, I love it. I still haven't got the hang of winter though. I was half-heartedly cleaning my room today, sorting through the piles of paper and folders most of which will just get moved to another location in my room and I found scribblings on my dislike of the next season. Like a lot of my scribblings, it's on the back of someone else's poetry. For some reason inspiration seems to hit me in the middle of my English classes, maybe that's why I haven't written anything decent since the end of the last course I took. I fully expect to lose this scrap, or at least lose track of it for a few years as I did with my desert poem so I I'm going to include it in this entry, slightly edited:

In the winter all I can think of is the cold that envelops me and the warmth I'm missing. Just think, right now, at this very moment, while flurries mist the night, elsewhere there are sandstorms and a scorching sun. I wilt here in dragging February days; painful leap year.

I miss the old greenhouses by Queen's Park, the slick humidity inside that presses like an embrace as I peer at the labels; Latin names on pots and stakes. Summer used to rustle there, the city sliding away as I'd close my eyes and taste the earth on my tongue through the air I breathed in.

When I sleep, I dream of heat.

To Northern Manitoba

2005-10-23T01:16:00.000-04:00

I want to write something light but the creative juices aren't flowing. I looked at my writing portfolio from last year and I was surprised by some of the pieces, they were quite decent. I can't seem to be able to write anything these days, everything seems empty and cliche. There was a time when I wanted to be a writer but that was a long time ago. I just don't have the drive to do something like that; I think you've either got to have a great passion for it or a great ability. Unfortunately all the passion seems to have burned out of me a while back and I mean passion for anything. I feel broken inside and I don't know what happened to the person I was and if I can become that person again. I know everybody changes but I don't feel like I've changed so much as lost entire pieces of myself. I don't even try to fill the gaps anymore but sometimes, when I'm with certain people, I feel as though I'm the person I want to be again, just by talking to them or being held. Unfortunately that doesn't happen at home. Home is where I feel more broken than anywhere else, more of a failure and a disappointment, more alone, lost and hopeless. I need to find the strength in myself to be happy and self-sufficient, to make my choices and live with them instead of worrying about what my parents will think of them. I don't need to defy them, just to not be so horribly destroyed when they put down my ideas or aspirations. I need to be my own person but I don't think I can. At least not here and now. So I need to run away....

On spell check and my future without shoes

2005-10-21T00:07:00.000-04:00

I'm too awake to post properly today.

I'm feeling contemplative. Thinking about my life and how much I've fucked it up. It feels like I'm stuck now, grades not good enough to get into grad school, not enough experience to get the kind of job I want, not enough guts to defy my parents and move out so as to salvage the last dregs of my sanity.

I think I've always felt ugly or at least nondescript but there was once a time when I at least had confidence in other areas of my life. Ah, the glory days when everything seemed doable and it felt like it was only a matter of choosing from amongst the possibilities.

On another note, spell check is working now though it didn't recognize "color" as being misspelled despite being set to Canadian English. It also doesn't recognize "fucked" as a word. I think that's sweet. I just noticed it took out the second space after my periods!!! Sacrilege!!

So Sheepy

2005-10-19T21:44:00.000-04:00

Baa...

I think I should only update in the middle of the night when I'm all sleep deprived and incoherent and perfectly capable of telling a waitress that my friends and I need to find a different restaurant because we just wouldn't feel comfortable having an orgy on the table in the one we're in (the place is just that nice). That way I can blame any stupid things I write on my brain not working right and being hyper-paranoid because I can feel every last loose thread or stray hair brushing my arms like little evil eight-legged creatures out to devour me.

I am so sleepy now but I'm not in bed because going to bed would require digging it out from under all the junk I dumped on it this morning in my frantic rush to get ready for my interview. As for the interview, the person grilling me expressed interest in eating cake. Damned cake. I'm starting to resent cake now and that's just wrong. My mother thinks that it's more important for me to learn how to decorate a wedding cake than to get a job. Bah!

I bah a lot.

Pepperminted

2005-10-16T02:58:00.000-04:00

You know what I want? A decent nickname. People constantly mangle my name to the point where I have to wonder if it's intentional and I end up repeating it myself so many times that I begin to doubt my own pronunciation. Sex Kitten is the closest I've ever come to a nickname. It's entirely inappropriate in that I'm just such stone-ground wheat wholesomeness it's funny. All saccharine and sunshine. Or strychnine and UV. Bah. Anyway, Sex Kitten doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. And it would horrify everyone who thinks I'm a Good Brown Girl. Well, maybe that's a plus.

Good Brown Girl deserves to be capitalized. In my world it's an archetype just as much as the Imprisoned Damsel or the Sexually Aware And Therefore Dangerous Woman in the fairy tales. Of course what exactly constitutes a Good Brown Girl (GBG) is variable. These things are always variable or the stories get stale but there are a few constants, for instance she is Virtuous and should be coupled with her counterpart, the Nice Brown Boy (NBB).

In order to scramble any flow I may have here, I'm going to end abruptly by complaining about the spellcheck on here. It doesn't work, just makes a "sweek!" noise. Damned annoying. I had to copy and paste into Word and check it there. I still can't remember, after 15 long years here, whether it's a "z" or an "s" in Canadian spelling. I guess even if the spellcheck did work it would be stuck on American Spelling.