Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Essential Oils

bad idea. bad idea. bad idea. bad idea.

it burns.

though i must admit it had the proper effect. if it didn't resolve the problem, it at least made my brain pulsate enough for me to forget about it.

all it said was avoid eye contact, but that was something i already knew first hand.

i'm still not sure what this stuff is or what it's purpose is.... and i'm almost positive it's supposed to be used topically.

but i've been ingesting this stuff for years now.

do you have the stuff?

how can it be so cold and still manage to burn so fierce. it's a magical potion, i guess. i will never understand. it is not meant to be understood.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

in google we trust:

Sunbreeze Oil and Balm

Ingredients: Camphor, Menthol, Cassia Oil, and other essential flower oils, prepared as an oil mixture, or in a beeswax base as a balm.

The Healing Oil and Balm may be applied in four ways:

Application method 1- Rub the oil or balm on the temples and on the back of the neck at the base of the skull. Reapply and massage deeply into any area of tenderness. This method of application is useful for:


... who couldn't use a little less muscle tension and fatigue and a little more mental alertness? you are a tricky little magic potion after all.

Application method 2- Rub the oil or balm on any part of the body as need. This method of application is useful for:


... hey, i have had all these problems!! who knew i had the secret elixer all along!

Application method 3- Place a small amount of the oil or balm on the tongue. This method is useful for:


... this is the method i use. to help me sing. so i guess it can be ingested. *small sigh of relief that i haven't been gradually knocking off hours from my lifespan*

Application method 4- Mix the oil or balm with shampoo or conditioner. Wash hair as usual. This method of application is useful for:


... with shampoo???? is there anything you don't do??!!! are you also a love potion? a truth serum?

With all methods of application, avoid contact with the eyes. *they aren't kidding with this... tust me* Keep out of the reach of children. For children under two years old, dilute with alcohol before applying externally. Sinus massage available at Harmony Bodyworks.

so it seems that i used it according to the application methods listed above... and yet, it burned like i do not expect a magic potion to burn. but maybe this is how it lets us know that it is working. i am going to experiment further with my magic potion.

Post-Injury Wrap-Up

Let's have a look at your face, bruder.

yeah, that's pretty pathetic.

Give me a peace sign, bruder.

yeah, that's pretty pathetic.

Ok, now open your mouth as wide as you can, bruder.

yeah, that's pretty pathetic.

* * *

i did not post the photos of his chin gash, cause it was just gross. and i figured the mouth photo was pretty much gross enough. hope none of you are planning on eating too soon after this.

p.s. k, you actually were mentioned in that last post: "a million long distance phone calls"

Monday, February 27, 2006

... It's a Long Story.

My apologies.

You will forgive me.

This is not a request.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

There was an incident.

It involved the following:

- one brother

- one flight of stairs

doctor: how many stairs?
bruder: oh let me think. i was counting them as i fell: one F*&% MY LEG! two DAMNIT MY FACE! three MY BACK! four OH NO WAS THAT MY TEETH!? five.... the hell if i know!! IT WAS A LOT OF STAIRS.

- three chipped teeth

- two badly hurt knees

- a dash of fluid in the sinus

- one locked jaw

- one chin gash

- a handful of facial bruising

- one concussion

doctor: can you tell me how long you were out for?
bruder: oh let's see. well, i was counting again. One *i'm glad i'm passed out so that i can't feel my body* Two *it sure is dark in here* Three *i think i need to go to the hospital*.... the hell if i know! I WAS PAAAASSSED OOOOOOUUUUUT.
doctor: well, can you guess?

- one wake up call for said concussed brother every one to two hours = one wake up call for for me every one to two hours

me: wake up, bruder
bruder: ok, i'm awake *asleep again*
me: wake up, bruder. you must be fully awake. we'll have to have a conversation.
bruder: you are tough.

- one broken, casted arm

me: oh, you could have gotten colours!!
bruder: yeah, it was basically just this gay light blue and glow in the dark. i wasn't gonna pick the blue.
me: well, what about the glow in the dark?
bruder: GLOW IN THE DARK??!! it would have kept me up allll night.

- eight hours plus in the emergency room

bruder: i just want to go to sleep
me: i just want to go to sleep
bruder: *lays down to sleep on the waiting room floor*
nurse: i'm sorry you can't lie down there

- ten different waiting rooms

- three x-rays and one CT

- zero sleep

- a million years of anxiety packed into a very small amount of time

- two friends to drive to and from hospital and hang out with me

- a million thanks to aforementioned friends

- a million long distance phone calls

- a dash of suspicion

- one great big cosmic joke

- one guardian angel making sure the whole thing wasn't worse than it was (ie. broken neck)

- one terrible, terrible, TERRIBLE night/day

- one incredi-sister

bruder: i have the best sister in the world
me: i know.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Drunken IM

j (12:21:40 AM): the game is never over
j (12:23:02 AM): the game of h-on
j (12:23:07 AM): ton
j (12:23:21 AM): lawl
j (12:23:29 AM): actaully
j (12:23:33 AM): it never ends
j (12:23:36 AM): b/c
j (12:23:40 AM): we dont stop
j (12:23:41 AM): yo

a (12:23:46 AM): hahahahahahaha
j (12:23:48 AM): cuz every time we touch
j (12:23:51 AM): i get this feeling
j (12:23:54 AM): and
j (12:23:59 AM): i can type that fast
j (12:24:02 AM): cant
j (12:25:12 AM): j <3>
a (12:25:29 AM): awww... i'll see what i can do
j (12:25:36 AM): k
j (12:25:40 AM): you better
j (12:25:52 AM): b/c
j (12:25:56 AM): for r4eal
j (12:26:07 AM): those arethose most excting blogs
j (12:26:15 AM): lets be seriopus
a (12:26:17 AM): hahahahaha
j (12:26:18 AM): iurfhsjhfert
j (12:26:20 AM): hahhaha
j (12:26:51 AM): Z: horoscope for the 25th: If you're currently involved romantically, consider planning a special evening with your partner. If you're not involved, you might want to attend a sports event and admire the participants.
a (12:27:09 AM): hahahah... i will go to a sporting event
a (12:27:21 AM): though i guess i don't have the same horoscope as z

j (12:27:47 AM): spending $$
j (12:27:50 AM): im singibng
j (12:27:54 AM): time
j (12:27:55 AM): me
j (12:27:57 AM): humos
j (12:27:59 AM): jumkol
j (12:28:02 AM): qhahahahaha
j (12:28:05 AM): ass
j (12:28:06 AM): jeans
j (12:28:08 AM): s
j (12:28:16 AM): ahahaha
j (12:28:26 AM): i am waiting for u to hate me
a (12:29:22 AM): why would i hate you?
j (12:29:29 AM): i dunno
j (12:29:42 AM): b.c i type IMby IM
j (12:29:51 AM): and hatwver is in my hjead
j (12:29:54 AM): hahahaha

a (12:29:55 AM): hahahahaaa... i like it actually
j (12:29:55 AM): lkiek that
j (12:30:03 AM): read thAT
j (12:30:25 AM): its hard to type as fast as songs play
j (12:30:39 AM): esp when un drunk

z(12:27:43 AM): she's drunk
a (12:27:51 AM): yeah duh
z (12:28:17 AM): o dear
z (12:28:20 AM): i hafta take her out

a (12:29:41 AM): lol. take her out, like 'take her out'.. or like leave?
z (12:30:15 AM): leave the room with her
z (12:30:42 AM): she made me a REALLY strong drink

j (12:31:05 AM): i want to
j (12:31:12 AM): dance ppaaaaaaaaaaarrrttttttyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
j (12:31:19 AM): hey a
a (12:31:22 AM): hey j
j (12:31:25 AM): tell me
j (12:31:44 AM): what come before part a?
j (12:31:48 AM): wait
j (12:31:51 AM): partb
j (12:31:59 AM): what come befoire prt b
j (12:32:34 AM): the answer is notn keystone light
j (12:32:41 AM): but really
j (12:32:47 AM): what comes before part b
j (12:32:49 AM): ?

a (12:33:45 AM): partaaaaaaaaaay!
j (12:33:50 AM): yaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy
j (12:33:52 AM): lawl

j (12:37:51 AM): i would apprecoate it
j (12:37:53 AM): if
j (12:37:57 AM): you told everyone
j (12:39:00 AM): but call me george foreman cuz im sellin everybody grillz

j (12:41:07 AM): a is my fav!!!!!!!!!!!!!
a (12:41:11 AM): yay!
j (12:41:14 AM): booya!
a (12:41:25 AM): what an exit!
j went away at 12:41:56 AM.

What it do baby
Its da ice man Paul Wall
I got my mouth lookin somethin like a disco ball
I got da diamonds and da ice all hand set
I might cause a cold front if i take a deep breath
My teeth gleaming like im chewin on aluminum foil
Smilein showin off my diamonds sippin on some potin oil
I put my money where my mouth is and bought a grill
20 carrots 30 stacks let em know im so fo real
My motivation is from 30 pointers V VS the furniture my mouth
piece simply symbolize success
I got da wrist wear and neck wear dats captivatin
But its my smile dats got these on-lookers spectatin
My mouth piece simply certified a total package
Open up my mouth and you see mo carrots than a salad
My teeth are mind blowin givin everybody chillz
Call me George Foreman cuz I'm sellin everybody grillz

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Thanks to all the People

I should do this now before i run out of inspiration.

People are beautiful.

People recreate me.

People give me life.

Everybody has something to offer.

Everyone brings something different to the table.

Even the ones who make you feel uncomfortable.

Even the ones that make situations downright intolerable.

Doesn't that just make you extra thankful for the others?

Doesn't every hard experience lived through make you that much stronger?

Aren't you that much gladder to be yourself, considering some of the other options?

But mostly I am not talking about this type of person.

For all those other people that you meet, and even if its just for ten minutes or something, that sometimes make you wish it were socially acceptable to hug a practical stranger and tell them they already mean the world to you.

You know, like even if you never saw this person again, but somewhere along the line someone gave me some sort of news about you. Well, i would feel good to hear of something good happening to you. And sad, well sad things, you get the picture.

* knock on wood *

So, stronger from surviving more unfamiliar experiences, with unfamiliar places, and people and pretend-games. And everyone assumes their role. It's a matter of finding the proper leading characters. Then it's as if it's all rehearsed. And i hardly forgot any of my lines.

Often, they are the ones you least expected.

Last night, i befriended a cute little french lady working coat check at a Taizé event. I was keeping more or less to myself and was under the impression she didn't speak english. But it turns out she does, only sometimes when she forgets a word and she would have to struggle to find it. But it was pretty adorable. She was so excited to learn that my sister plays hockey and that i used to play hockey and she thought it was amazing and was so glad to see woman's hockey getting big because she had never really heard of women playing hockey before and well, it was just great to hear. * woot woot women * and all. It still surprises me when people are surprised when girls play hockey. But anyway, she just seemed pretty genuine and gentle and generous and good hearted.

"Your sister should play in the Olympics."

"She could."

Taizé prayer service, btw = pretty amazing. This is pretty much the most ideal way to pray. Basically, it's one or two line melodies, with lyrics that are written in tons of languages, but since they are one line each and repeated dozens of times it is easy to learn. And they are done in multi part harmonies - though we didn't get that much of that at this one - intermingled with silence. Pretty calming and meditative. I'm pretty sure the pitch is sunconsciously, if not specifically, singled out for its effect on the energies in the body. It was amazing how my body just naturally responded.

I would choose blind. by the way. if i had to choose. no contest.

* knock on wood *

So yeah, other people as well. I wanted to hug.

I also love seeing how people dress. Every creative project built by the human mind gives away so many aspects of your subconscious. Often times things that you are not even aware of yourself. Be it writing, or creating music, or visual art, or dressing. We're all of us saying so much more than we ever wanted to say out loud. Everything about a person is giving away so much about that person so much of the time.

Church rockstars tonight. Then free chilli dinner in the basement. New church rockstars. More people i want to hug.

Some that want to hug me. But not those people.

And the kids were a delight. Pretty eyes and cool hair were my fave kids tonight. With little guy running a close third.

* shakes the can *

Shit. "Don't tell your mom where you got that idea from."

Some kids would ask to buy all the drinks whenever their family members wanted one because they wanted to come back and see us. That's the church rockstar appeal.

That and the beer cooling in the fridge.

"No sorry, there is no beer being sold tonight."

You should always sell alcohol at a church funtion. It's where all the major renevue comes from.

But, i survived and i prospered and actually made a new musical acquainance. Re-established an old one. So incredi-cool.

They said, "Your sister should play for the Olympics."

"She could."

Everyone's got Olympic fever.

People are beautiful.

Though, i can't say that i need them all the time.

The First Lady and Her Baby

nice things have been written. for me. i am touched.

hello to the first lady. hello to the baby she carries. protecting it from the harsh world that it will one day have to come into. kicking and screaming and wanting to go back. she or he will have two choices: fit in, or fit out. both have their pros and cons. you may prefer one to the other, but then again it isn't your choice. it's a delicate balance between control and freedom, parenting is. but whatever they do, they will have you. guiding. loving. supporting... it's beautiful, isn't it?

unconditional. beautiful.

unconditional. magical.

magical. beautiful. awesome.

awe'some a. causing awe

awe n. reverent fear and wonder

...yes, that's right the real awesome. not the fake one that gets so lightly tossed around. dude, that's aaawwweesome. *one of those cola cans with sunglasses that dances to music*

watch your words. or you'll lose them.

isn't it funny that we come into this world the same way we leave it? kicking and screaming and wanting to go back.

... some may say: where do you get off writing anything about parenting, since you are not a parent.

well. i have parents. that should be good for something.

and. aren't we all supposed to have some sort of child rearing intuition (if not all, at least the women)? *woot, woot to the women*

trust your intuition.
trust your intuition.
trust your intuition.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Stealing Stories

* * WARNING: tonight's post contains disturbing content. * *

Today i took over the ownership of two stories that used to belong to my friend, keys. Yes, he is still the main character of the stories, but his stories are now my own.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Keys was making himself some chocolate milk one day. He mindlessly poured some milk and some chocolate syrup, stirred and drank. Upon meeting with a rather chunky mixture, he thought to himself, 'this chocolate milk must need more stirring'. In the instant that passed while he removed the glass from his lips an alarm rang off in his head: i was using syrup... how could there be chunks? Looking into the already half drunken mixture, he was horrified. earwigs.

Yes. He had already polished off a fair quantity of them.

They say bugs are pretty healthy for you.

It's like straight out of fear factor.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Once in his childhood, keys was sitting down to a relaxing game of computer something or other. He felt a sensation at the scab on his elbow but disregarded it as just regular old scab sensations. But the sensation grew and soon it was too strong and too strange to ignore any longer. Turning to his elbow, he was horrified. two earwigs were eating his scab.

Yes. Earwigs were eating his scab!

They are scavengers you know.

It's like no story i've ever heard.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'I'm a master at cheap sentiment. Ask my girlfriend.'
- keys

... i even stole his quotes.

Now if only i could steal his piano playing ability...

Stark Raving

You know... i don't even know anymore.

For the most part, i just stroll around and this happens and that happens and it's pretty much fine. Then suddenly, i want out again. I want out so bad i can taste it. And i don't even know what i'm in, let alone what's out. And i don't even know why.

Dull. Numb. Numb. Dull. Pointless.

I'm beginning to think i'm bipolar. But then again: whatever.

I'm missing out on the mania anyway.

Can someone tell me when life begins?

People judge me because i don't 'interact' with others. I am practicing. For when i am an eccentric author who hones her craft by shunning those around her. People tell me that *insert famous author here* sits in a cafe and people watches while writing *insert famous novel here*. Apparently this is interacting.

Just because people stand among other people does not mean they are interacting.

All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.

Not gonna lie. The insanity of the Shining actually appeals to me.

That scene on the stairs with wifey looking like walking death, pathetically swinging a bat at her crazy, yet happy looking, husband is maybe one of my favourite scenes ever.

But then again i am known for making outrageous claims like this.

I wonder sometimes whether my qualities are downfalls. whether my downfalls are qualities.

But who's to say really? Where do we draw the line? and who's on first?

As much as you try, life is not like books or movies. If anything it's like those open ended movies that people hate because they need their stories wrapped up in tight little packages because their lives are so hard to interpret that they can't take any more of it.

Life is like those movies people hate.

All anyone wants is to live like in the movies.

So we go to the movies with each other. And you call this interacting?

Fucking people are strange man. And they have the audacity to point fingers at me? I'll fucking cut that finger off if you don't stop pointing it at me.

Oh right. All in good fun.


I'll cut ties with everyone before too long and begin my slow decent to the bliss that is stark raving mad. I'm already isolated and three cats on my way there.

Like you care.

gyrovague (JYE-ro-vayg) n. A monk who travels from one place to another.

I wish i was a monk. I wish i was a nomad. I wish i was a gyrovague.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Music and the Internerd: Let the Love Affair Continue

Check this site out: Radio.Club.Blog

Basically, you can go there and look up an artist or a song and it finds the song somehow and you can stream it. So if you are at an office computer and can't download, or just don't want to download, or if you just want to check out a new song or whatnot... that's the place to do it.

My friend also pointed me to Pandora Radio

It's an internet radio site where you input a band that you like and they will stream a whole radio station that they think you will like based on your tastes.

So basically, one site you go to if you are looking for something in particular, and the other if you are looking for anything new and good in particular. Both fantastic internerd accessories.

Love the internerd, you do.

Kings of Leon

You have seven (7) days to download my new fave song that i dumped on yousendit.com which is a great new way to send large files to people... anyway, go get it - so good:

Milk by Kings of Leon

The whole frigging album is good (Aha Shake Heartbreak).

Thanks to my japanese internerd boyfriend for the introduction. lol.

Dedication: rally

r & b: your dedication is further down. you will have to scroll... i'm averaging something like three posts a day now. incredi-crazy!

One time i was at the bank. TD to be exact. During their 'get a free ipod shuffle promotion'. I wanted an ipod so bad at the time. I wanted the big ones... but a free shuffle would have been fine. So anyway, i'm at the bank and i ask the teller how one goes about getting a free ipod shuffle. And he tells me that you have to switch over from another bank to get one.

"And what if you are already at this bank. Can you get one then?"


"So you are telling me that you are giving away ipod shuffles only to the people who come from other banks?"


"So you are telling me you have nothing for your loyal customers?"

"I guess not."

"Frig. I'm switching banks."

Well, i didn't switch banks cause i think TD is pretty - yeah, good reason to keep a bank - and also, i am too lazy, and kind of i was just flirting with the teller. But anyway, my point is this: i gave all the new readers ipod shuffles and gave all my loyal customers the shaft.

Rally, this is your dedication:

"Some bloggers rawk."

Yeah, i'm pretty sure that was me he was talking about.

Wait, that started off more like a dedication to me.

I'll try again.

If it wasn't for you, i wouldn't know what an ascot was.

I'm trying to remember how i ended up in your neck of the internerd.

I'm not positive but i think i had stumbled upon Recovering Mormon and was commenting on a post, and i think you had commented and i think i clicked.

Do you read Recovering Mormon?... cause if not then i found you some other way.

(i didn't want to post this and have it be wrong, so i went back and found the comment.. so yeah, i was right. That's where i found you... you still read her? i love her thursday stories. She has mad literary skills.)

At any rate, you were the first blog i put on my favourites list. I was that Cut to the Chase post that did it:

"I think sometimes birds taunt me." ... plus a blizzard of other random thoughts. It was truly a masterpiece. I commented. A lot of stuff about birds.

The rest is history.

... and then one day, you posted a comment on my blog. And i was like 'dude! he reads me?!!' I felt like i had accomplished something.

I will forgive you for not posting regularly, because you still are my favourite blog. There are some blogs that you just start to read and then it kind of becomes this habit where you read them just because the person posts every day, but it's just words. Then there are the blogs that you liked, but the person doesn't post every day so you get tired of opening up the page to find nothing new and you give up on them. Then there are the blogs that you like, but the person doesn't post every day but you still come back. And when you do find something new, at first, you can't believe your eyes. And then when you are sure it's real you jump up and victory punch the air. You posted twice this week! I was stoked. And once you even linked to my blog. It was a touching moment on the internerd, it was. I said awwww out loud. And then told my friend on msn. He doesn't understand blogs so he just brushed me off. He thinks i'm lame. But then again, i think he's lame. I even promised him a dedication if he would read my blog. I know he would love it. He doesn't know what he's missing out on, right everybody!? right.

Alright... have fun on your trip, rally.. can't wait to read about it!

Dedications: r&b

A little monkey told me something today... of course, the monkey tells me lots of things, about bananas and tree swinging and...

well, that's between the monkey and me.

But that's not why i am here. I am here because a monkey told me i had visitors. So welcome's are in order.

Welcome, welcome.

This is your dedication.

* * * * *

r: out of everyone i met, you seemed the most sane. But not boring sane or anything like that. But in the opposite way that h-ton is crazy, sane. Even saner than z. But i think h-ton made her crazy.

Nobody owes you nothing, and you know it.

You have mad style with that ping pong ball. You schooled the room, b-boy.... the b is for beirut. Though i've never called it beirut before. But then again it was pretty much the first time i played. I will practice and return to h-ton and command the room, i promise you that. So watch out.

It's cute that you love your sis.

It's clear from myspace that i love you more than i love z ;)

* * * * *

b: don't worry, i didn't write anything she didn't already know. You pretty much wear your heart on your sleeve anyway. I was just documenting it. I think i wrote a bunch about you in my posts... i wonder what it's like reading about yourself. Especially when the person writing it didn't think you were reading it. But it's ok, i have nothing to hide.

You, on the other hand, might be well served to keep some things hidden.

Don't get me wrong: you and r = my faves. (it just occurs to me that i think i wrote something about a puppy dog in one of my earlier posts that may have come off pretty badly... er... yeah... uh, sorry about that... i didn't mean it in quite that way. it's called an analogy... i was trying to be expressive.) Seriously though = my faves. It's just that... well, you just don't take advice very well. But i told you that to your face right before i slapped you and told you i loved you anyway.

i <3 redheads... but only if they are male. not giant purple elephants.

* * * * *

It only takes a moment. One small phrase or gesture or shared experience to know something about someone. People can say a lot about themselves in a few words. And they can say nothing in a whole lot of words. I won't go into the details, of course, but this is only to say that i feel that i learned enough about you two in a small amount of time to be able to say that you both are solid individuals and that i'm glad z has your room to find some solace from giant purple elephants.

Welcome to the blog.

Live it. Love it.

* * * * *

p.s. if you want a dedication, you will have to tell the monkey about your visit.
p.p.s. or just tell me directly.
p.p.p.s. i <3 comments.

A Place Where I Live

There is a place where i live. It is a community. A small community. We live in wood cabins with fire stoves and we eat of our own gardens. We live in a forest and instead of the sound of cars and traffic and people, we hear only the wind, the leaves and the babbling brook. We live close to the beach, which overlooks the mountain. No one locks their doors.

The people in this community have been hand picked. They are all free spirited people with beliefs and opinions and ideas and knowledge. They love to learn. But mostly they love music. We play every kind of instrument as a collective. We play every kind of music as a collective. We invent new instruments. We invent new music. We spend our days writing and playing and changing the world through art. We spend our evenings learning and reading and writing and painting and drawing and breathing and meditating. We will make our own clothes.

We eat when we feel like it. We sleep when we feel like it. We swim when we feel like it. We play when we feel like it. We laugh. We cry.

There is no jealousy. No greed. No judgment. No grasping.

There is no hierarchy.

The food here is incredible. Because we watched it grow ourselves. And we talked to the plants so they would grow. Of course, we toiled and tilled. We don't let our bodies get lazy. We stretch every day.

There is no television here. I have not decided if we need internet, yet.

Soon there will be many children running around. We will grow them up as best children can be guided. They will be surrounded by open minded teachers and they will learn music before they learn math - though yes, math is very important. They will surpass us, their teachers, in every conceivable and non-conceivable way. If we are not able to change the world, they will do it.

It is here that i will write my novel. You will read it and it will change your life.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Welcome To My Two's Day Night

So i spent the evening watching american idol and sifting through all my clothes on commercial breaks, the result being:

(a) i still cannot understand why i watch american idol, but more confusing is why i continue to watch it... maybe it's so that i can spend the commercial breaks belting out the tunes they audition, proving to myself that i am indeed the next american idol;

(b) my room is no longer a bed and other furniture - it is now a hundred different piles of clothing strewn all over. I don't even remember what the difference is between the piles, but i know there originally was a reason for differentiating between them;

(c) my mind is officially boggled that people cannot see that i have put on weight since my fake madrexic stint in college: i have gone up four belt holes, in fact, belts that i had to make my own holes for no longer even fit me... but the most painfully obvious (stress on the painful) evidence is the rug burn - nay, t-shirt burn - that is the result of me trying on every one of my t-shirts (i am tossing about fifteen and keeping about four and will have to make myself some new ones soon). In fact, i actually got stuck in a couple of them and went well over american idol commercial breaks trying to wriggle free;

(d) like usual, the clothes sorting process has produced a number of items that i had forgotten i ever owned and i am now stoked to bring them out of retirement;

(e) because of my new healthy weight, many of the clothes from my uber-baggy stage (who am i kidding, i still dip into that phase) now actually fit me; and

(e) i will have to spend the next hour cleaning my room and putting everything back in the closet/i will have to spend the next couple minutes tossing all my 'well-defined' piles into one big pile on the floor so that i can jump into bed and read for the next hour.

... i think that's the third post that is written in weird list form. I think i will stop doing that.

.end com.


I want to start writing short stories... will someone suggest topics for me? i will let you name a character!


Finally some sweet relief from migraine-city. Time to get back to work. And catch up on all the random blogs that i visit.

What i've learned from my time in blogville:

-most people don't write every day and that's really annoying. and some of them don't write for days at a time!!!! *ahem*rally*ahem*

-but most people still seem to get mad comments on their blog. i wish i had mad comments on my blog. does anyone miss the commotion kris caused? speaking of which, i had the weirdest dream that i was dating kris. and he was a hairdresser in a mall that looked like my basement... which is terribly strange if you know what my basement looks like. though i should mention that he pretty much tricked me into dating him in the dream by pretending like he was asking me something else, to which i answered yes and then was basically stuck with him. but he was a pretty popular hairdresser cause people would line up forever to get their hair cut. i tried to get my hair cut but something would always go wrong. in real life, i would like to get my hair cut mad short and make it into a mohawk. or shave it right off. i'm bored with my hair again.

-most people post photos quite regularly. i plan on doing more of that in the future. hopefully if winter ever stops stalking me, i'll be able to go outside again and take mad artsy photos and post them here for you guys to not spend any time looking at because of course you come here for my clever literary works.

-most people post lots of naked photos of themselves. i've come to think that bloggers are really just nerdy exhibitionists. don't expect to see naked photos of me up here (as sister sends a thankful prayer to God)

-there are two types of bloggers: those that use the blog to document their busy lives (basically an online diary - i went to the shoe store. i got my hair cut... boooooring) and those that don't leave the house and have to delve into the recesses of their and thereby use the blog to document their insanity... that's pretty much why i am here.

-most people that aren't into the blogworld think the inhabitants of this world are lame. and the people that inhabit the blogworld think the inhabitants of the real world are lame. so it's pretty much a match made in heaven. but most people that give the blogworld a chance, even just as voyeurs become addicted pretty much instantaneously once they find the right match.

... there's other stuff i learned but i can't think of it and i've grown weary of this post.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Migraine Info Session

I am having one helluva migraine right now, so i thought i'd let you in on it. Here is something i found on a website with my own comments:

* Pain typically on one side of the head - left side. always has been and i'm sure always will be. in fact, even when i don't have a headache/migraine that part of my head is just more sensitive. when i have a migraine i like to push the left side of my face into my pillow, so it's probably a good idea that i got my piercing on my right eyebrow, even though this train of thought did not factor into the decision making process at the time.
* Pain has a pulsating or throbbing quality - sometimes. today it's pretty consistent though... no wavey like quality really. most of the time it's like tiny little jackhammers going to town on my brain and the back of my eyeball,
* Moderate to intense pain affecting daily activities - that's why i skipped all my work and lay in bed all day.
* Nausea or vomiting - i haven't actually been sick from a migraine in years (thankfully), but am definately nauseous. when i was a kid i used to vomit pretty much every day, and i had a special mattress on the bathroom floor. in fact, on the first day of grade six i threw up on my principal's shoes when she was driving me home... not the first time i had been sick in her presence, or in her car, but this was the first time on her actual person. ain't no thaing, we were mad tight by that point.
* Sensitivity to light and sound - my dad came into the kitchen for dinner tonight, opened the pot with the carrots in it, and then slammed it shut. i screamed in pain. then my mom is all 'you don't like carrots?' and he's all 'yeah, i like em just fine' and she's all 'then why' *smashes pot again*? and i'm all *screaming in pain* again. so dumb. light is pretty much the worst though. that's why i had to sleep under the covers this morning after the sun came up. painful.
* Attacks last four to 72 hours, sometimes longer - frig, it's only been 48 hours now... i have another whole day of this left?... or sometimes longer?? what the eff?
* Visual disturbances or aura - usually i get the little dots that wander all around my visual field, but not always. dizziness, i get like crazy: one time i fell down the stairs... well, multiple times. today i am having a weird visual disturbance though that i've never really had for a migraine before. when i am in the process of shutting my eyes, the whole scene in front of me shifts: it either expands, or contracts, or kind of waves, or moves over a bit... i don't even know if that makes sense.
* Exertion such as climbing stairs makes headache worse - hence the staying in bed all day. hence the increase in pain since i went downstairs for dinner. hence the going to bed now.

let's see how this turns out in the morning... cause i'm going to bed.

Word of the Day: Definition Hunt

It occurs to me that as my blog fanbase grows, the readers will be demanding more and more out of me. I stayed in bed all day recovering from my h-ton migraine and a little birdie told me that a certain someone was not impressed that i was not posting around her reading schedule. It also occurs to me that my newest fan may not like my non-h-ton posts... i guess i'm going to have to pull out all the stops from now on. Nothing boring or unoriginal. No weak-ass Word of the Day posts masquerading as a bonafide post for the day... oh, there will still be sporadic words of the day - you know how i love my words - but for your entertainment, one definition will not be sufficient material.

But i already posted once today, so i am pretty much off the hook and definitions will suffice. So for your reading pleasure, i have found another definition hunt:

rak'ish a. jaunty.

...uh, ok....

jaun'ty a. gay, easy, and carefree.

Well, why didn't you just say so? Both are kind of fun words to say. Add them to your vocab.

You guys are in loooooove, just admit it already.

This Is How We Roll

I. am. exhausted. and i have a migraine that just won't quit. I guess it should be expected staying up till four in the morning three nights last week. And two consecutive nights of drinking... considering i hadn't drank in months. My body doesn't like change. It thrives on regularity and inexcess. I even had to skip out on the free Stars concert even though i was back in town in time for it, because i was feeling so ill. Then i went to bed at eight, after napping in front of the tv and slept till the next afternoon and skipped work. I'm pretty pathetic.

But it is good to be home. I feel more sane here. It was a strange land that i visited. It was like visiting one large incestuous family. They eat together, they sleep together, they party together, and when they are not doing any of these things together they are all sitting on their computers IMing each other down the hall... or sometimes from the same room.

In someone else's words: "Same people, different place"

I stood out like a sore thumb, and not because i wore my hat sideways, but because everyone knows everyone and so if you don't belong there, they all know it. I've never been looked at so much. It was pretty comical to watch everyone try to be discrete about it though. It was pretty comical watching everyone do everything, actually. It was just all so foreign to me. The dorm rooms, the sweat pants, the binge drinking, the eating disorders, the mad sexual tension, the jealousy, the crude humour, the smack talk, the diner, the pub, the overly loud people everywhere... just everything. But i survived, and am stronger for the experience.

I was once quite intent on going to a small little school like that and somehow ended up at one of the biggest schools ever. I would often spend time thinking about what i might be missing out on. Of course i knew i was in the right place for a plethora of reasons that i won't go into here, but there was always a part of me that thought i was the little school type. I mean... i am sure i could have and would have enjoyed it. But i don't think i would have enjoyed it in the normal mainstream way people enjoy their little school experiences. But then again, i don't do anything normal or mainstream.

I did have a great time though. It was fun hanging out with z on her turf, and j gets comically wasted. It was fun meeting her friends and seeing how they all interact with each other. I also got to play a number of songs for a few of them and they all met with much approval... but BY FAR the highlight of the weekend was playing a song for z's roomate. you're so lame, bet you don't know that this song is about you, you're so lame, bet you don't know that this song is about you, don't you, don't you, don't you. Meanwhile she's singing all the words cause it's her fave song, we are all laughing hysterically that i could hardly make it through the whole song, and b pretty much fell off the couch.

Oh and i had an interesting conversation with b about losing best friends to cancer and how we coped. He was having a bad night... j peaced on him (because the boy cannot take advice) and someone stole his jacket (though he got the jacket back later). It's funny cause any time i am about to bring up brett and that painful period of my life, i always make a mental decision. I don't know what the decision is based on but i find myself saying: do you really want to tell this person about this? and sometimes for no reason the answer is no, and other times, for no reason the answer is yes. And it always turns out that when the answer is yes, the other person has an eerily similar story to tell. And then we bond quickly for a short time. Anyway, b is cool if he could just get his act together and play it cool. He's like a little puppy with too much energy around a certain someone... the kind of puppy that barks and jumps and nibbles at your fingers that won't obey that you just feel like kicking sometimes. But for the rest of the time, he's dope chill. Relax, puppy. Relax.

Anyway, peace out to the h-ton crew: z, bl, j, yellow pants, coked up guy, the cool corner at the pub, room 207, the madrexic and her sidekick, the hockey team, guy who didn't say much in the dining hall and won't leave until everyone leaves, guy who thought i was in high school, futon, the lil sister, the 'tense' girl, and others that i don't remember. This is how we roll.

Oh yeah, on the way home i thought of an anti-drug slogan: say nay to yay. You should inform weird tall guy of the new campaign. Maybe he'd be less creepy if he wasn't so coked up all the time.

Oh and tell madrexic that this sign only pertains to the area of the rink in which we were standing. She should pretty much eat everywhere else she goes. And tell her to ditch the sour face and those ugly super huge sweat pants. Or tell her to gain some pounds and then they might actually look less atrocious on her.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Break-up Letter


please. PLEASE.

I am not going to call you names or threaten to go somewhere you don't exist. And i understand. I truly do. It must be hard for you for a lot of reasons.

(a) no one likes you anymore
(b) you've overstayed your welcome
(c) we are all busy thinking about summer while we are still in a relationship with you
(d) no one can even remember why we liked you in the first place

.. and so on.

But it's not you, it's us.

Seriously, you are beautiful. And powerful. And full of surprises. There are so many things that you allow us to do.

But we're cold. And pasty white.

Please don't be sad. You'll find someone new. Try not to jump into any rebound relationships too quickly. You may have to just hide out for eight months and tend to your wounds. But that's life, man. Suffering. But i am suffering too much in this relationship.

I'm sorry, it's over. I want out.

I promise i was never cheating on you with summer. I just picked out the outfits i might wear if i did. Maybe that's bad enough. But it was only natural. I have been suffering in this relationship for a while now. It's probably been obvious to you.... but we've grown distant. You have grown cold.

Again. I'm sorry. But please pack your bags and leave.

We can still be friends. I'll remember you fondly.

Love, a.

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Giant Purple Velvet Elephant

Not gonna lie. Wasn't really looking forward to family skate today. Didn't think the alcohol still running through my blood was going to allow me to wake up in time, let alone strap on skates and use my body in a way i haven't done in years. But as it turns out, i was up and perfectly fine. And once i got on the ice i realized how much i love skating. There is a certain freedom and power and sound and smell and ease...

I forgot to mention that j is in neuroscience. Neuroscience!! and she induces schizophrenia in rats in a lab. Schizophrenia!! in rats!! in a lab!!! pretty cool. pretty much.

You should be here. Experience the tension. It's incredible. And awesome. And traumatizing. Imagine being in a room with a giant purple velvet elephant while everyone pretends it is not there. Now replace the elephant with a skeleton and a little sidekick and give them red hair. red like the devil. and now make sure there is a mutual hatred going on between you and the 'elephant'. and by room, i mean the room you live in with the elephant. Then you'll have some idea of what it's like. and you'd build a fortress, too.

Fortunately for me, i only have to ignore the giant purple velvet elephant for a couple days. Then i can go back to being a hermit, which suits me just fine.

Live alone. Then the only person you have to contend with is yourself.


Dedication: j.

three.eleven... frig.

who says frig? let alone writes it. but it seemed fitting.

i haven't been drunk in ages. frig. it took me ages to write drunk.

start over.

it's been an interesting night. launched into many an unfamiliar territory, i prevailed. tonight.

at one point there were five... perhaps six, of us in the fortress.

"i've never been in the fortress quite like this before"

hello, j. you are new to the blog. welcome, welcome. here is your dedication.

you. adorable. pretty much.

and it wouldn't even matter if you weren't. cause i've been through living with the devil before.

and the angel's the angel no matter what you do.

but. pretty much adorable. anyway. so it doesn't even matter.

b <3 j


that's pronunciation for lol. if you were to say it out loud.

which i fear. some day. i will.

this has all been a little much for me. i needed to let it out. must rest. before. family skate.

this is why i don't leave the house..................

three.twenty-two... frig.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Happy Birthday, Z

As it is z's birthday today, i am dedicating this post to her by rehashing every story i can think of at the moment that pertains to her.

Z loves to race. She races at everything. It's her highly competitive nature, i guess. So one time we were leaving the Sportsplex and z decides that she will beat everyone to the waiting car. She had no problem beating us, as no one was racing. Once there, she quickly jumped in the waiting vehicle and paused triumphantly in a victorious celebration starting at us losers out the window. Then suddenly it dawned on her. This car full of chinese people is not my car and she was back out on the pavement in record time as we laughed hysterically.

One day mom took z out to get her hair cut. When she returned with the ever popular mushroom cut, i, as bigger sisters are expected to do, laughed hysterically until i fell down on the walkway. Z bawled and i was grounded. From then on z hated her haircut, which is unfortunate cause it was actually mad cute. K laughed too and was sent to her room as well, but as the eldest and coolest and most sought after sister, she was easily able to manipulate z into talking mom into letting her out.

Z used to mix up the colours yellow and white, and i believe she still does. It's not that she can't tell the colours apart, it's that she has a labelling problem.

Z raised a ton of money for cancer with the American Cancer Society Relay For Life that she organizes at school. Good on you, z! As someone who has lost someone close to cancer, i thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Z once made me a beeswax candle shaped like a gingerbread man. We were obsessed with beeswax candles for a time and we had more than you can shake a candle at. Then we kind of got sick of them, as people tend to do after a while.

Z and i used to play gymnastics on my parents bed, running all the way down the hall (from inside the bathroom if we really wanted to build up some momentum) and doing flips on the bed. We also used to play wrestling on their bed... though many times it was not so much play but full out pain infliction. I once stabbed her with keys.... and w bit her on the back. I believe she was stronger than us even back then, so we had to fight dirty. I can't really say that i am sorry, because i am sure it was out of self defense more than anything.

On our last road trip together, z drove with dad and i drove with mom. Before hand we printed out dozens of tough sudoku puzzles, two copies of each. Then we put a number in every corner. Then we would call each other from different cars and say something like "starting puzzle 10 NOW" and then we would get to work. When you were done you would call over the other car and tell them you won. I always won.

When we used to drive back and forth the five hours to our prep school, we would always have our laptops going, playing games and listening to music and whatnot. But because we didn't have internet in the car, we couldn't message each other back and forth. So instead, we wrote on our own screens to the other and then leaned over to read the other's message. We were internerds even then.... and look where it's taken me!

When we took first year spanish together at prep school, z, knowing full well that i was having a difficult time adjusting to the new school and the lack of friends, asked me not to sit next to her in class anymore.

We ended up doing our spanish presentation together at the end of the year. I can't remember what we did it on or what we did... but i know it went well.

One time when our hockey teams were playing against each other, i hit z from behind (i was a bit of a dirty player). My mom screamed from the stands, "Throw her out of the game!" Thanks mom.

Z is the no. one fan of my music. We sang a song together that i wrote for k's wedding. i might have died if she wasn't up there with me. I put on a little family show at Easter last year, and z tried to sing every song with me, even the ones she didn't know. She tells me that she plays my songs in the dressing room and people sing along. I cringe at the thought.

Z developed a magic ability when we used to share the same bed. I was sick with migraines all the time and nauseous pretty much every other night. After years of this, sometimes i could sleep right through the whole thing and throw up in my sleep - gross, i know. Well, z developed a similar kind of talent. She could sense in her sleep that i was going to be sick. She would then leap from the bed and land in a still horizontal position on the floor, all the while still asleep. My mom would come in to the room and find one girl on the floor, vomit in the place she used to sleep and another girl who had obviously just been sick... both sleeping soundly, like nothing had happened.

I used to have to help z clean and organize her room. She was a tad on the messy side. We would have races - she loved to race - where we would run to a meeting spot and the winner would pick the next task: pick up laundry, clean up toys, etc. and then we would run off again to complete the task. And on the really big cleanup days i would go through all of her belongings and force her to only keep what she needed and found the perfect spot for everything she kept. I believe i turned into something of an organizing freak. She makes her bed everyday now! Meanwhile, i wade around in my own trash... not really, but i certainly don't make the effort that z makes.

One summer, z and i spent every day lying on the couch watching movie after movie after movie that had been recorded from television. We had quite the extensive collection but none of them were properly labelled. So we watched every one and labelled them all. We may not have left the couch in weeks. And quite possibly we built a fort and lived in it during that time.

People mistook us for twins for a good majority of our lives. It didn't help that we had the same jobs, played on the same teams, attended the same camps... my aunt would always buy us matching christmas presents and k would always get something cooler.

There's obviously many more stories, but i have to pack now. Always with the last minute packing.

Happy birthday, z-cakes! Hope it's a good one. See you in some hours.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

A World Without Shoes

I'm a YouTube Boob.

I wonder how many websites i am actually registered at now. I've made billions of accounts over the years. I wouldn't even be able to begin to remember.

I love the internerd. It's truly amazing. And i seem unable to stop myself from jumping on every new virtual bandwagon. So i guess online videos are the new online photo, then? That's fine, i'm in. I need my fix.

This world is like a whole new world.

Can you even imagine a world without the internet? Without televisions? Without cell phones? Without blackberries? Without telephones? Without electricity?

Can you imagine a world before mirrors? Before books? Before shoes?

There was such a world once.

I was at the doctor a while back for a sore ankle and countless other hypochondrial ailments. I stepped off the porch and totally rolled my ankle and then started bawling my eyes out and making a huge dramatic idiotic deal about it. Mind you, i was pretty drunk at the time. But anyway, the friend i was with promised me i wasn't even hurt but just shocked. Well, i should remember that my friend isn't a doctor. That was months and months ago and i am still having ankle problems and probably always will... but there was a point to this rant. So there i am at the doctor and i am telling him about how my ankle feels like it might be healing wrong and he asks me what shoes i wear. I obviously point to the shoe on the other foot, with the holes and no support, though super comf and seriously chill shoes - kind of like i'm homeless but still got style! - and my doctor proceeds to inform me, like i didn't already know, that i need better shoes with better support. I pretend like i am going to heed his advice but inform him that i don't leave the house much, so it doesn't really matter. So then he starts talking some crazy talk about wearing shoes around the house and that being the only way my ankle is going to heal. Shoes around the house??! He must be joking and i tell him so. He assures me he is not joking at which point i wonder aloud, "So what did they do before shoes, then?"

Now, i thought this was a rather clever and intriguing question, if not slightly funny. My doctor mutters to himself "before shoes!" like it's the dumbest thing he's ever heard in his life. Embarassed, i try to redeem myself: "I suppose they had more important things to worry about," trailing off, "dinosaurs, caves......"

Still, i refuse to wear shoes around the house. Or let my super chill shoe style waver with a pair of preppy supported sneaks. Most importantly, I refuse to entertain the notion that we have nothing to learn from a time before shoes.

Words of the Day

dot.age n. feebleness of old age

I was experiencing some dotage today. I actually groaned getting out of the car, like i was some kind of ninety-year old. And i still have a long way to go till ninety! Generally though, my body is just not what it used to be... but then again, we've been aging since the day we've been born. I wonder where it goes from here.

sten.to'ri.an a. very loud

Today, in a non-violent protest, we used stentorian guitar jamming to chase trespassers from the basement. It was quite possibly the most successful protest in history. It works best when you are not in fact jamming, but playing two wildly different songs at the same time resulting in some sort of twisted musical mess. Resistance was futile.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Goodbye Sun. Hello Moon. Goodbye Moon?

Four o'clock? In the morning? Could it be?

Could it be that i have been supressing my inner nerd? Could it be? That i like doing homework? I pretty much enjoyed the whole assignment on so many different levels.

How shall i manage to balance my inner artiste and my inner nerd?... not to mention my inner child, and my inner nurturer, and my inner peace and my inner self...

Ideally i'll be able to merge everything inside of me into one perfect life path. Going where i want to go, how i want to get there, when i want to get there. And ultimately: truth, beauty and love.

The hesitation comes at the urging of preconscious knowledge of things to follow. And how can i believe in this in the absence of some sort of evidence? asks my inner nerd. Faith, silly! cries the artiste. But not necessarily like you would imagine.

Though somewhere in between.

They get along well. my personalities.

Good night.

Good morning.

I'll meet you on the subway.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Valentine's Rant and Raving Lunatic

What can you say on a day like today other than


... well, how about: who cares, for one.

my parents invited me to go to dinner with them tonight and i declined because obviously everyone there would know i was one of those loners on Valentine's Day and had to settle on ruining my parent's V-day dinner by tagging along. My mom thought i was being silly and proceeded to tell me that i should have a Valentine. I didn't understand why i should anything. Most of the time i don't understand my mom anyway. But she does give me a V-day gift every year... so i won't complain about that.

Mostly it's been a fun day: chatting online, listening to music, trying on clothes... and soon i will go help my friends with their bio lab. Oh and i made c tell me he loves me before i promised to help them. Which means that i'm pretty much his Valentine. Hell, i'm pretty much his girlfriend's Valentine, too because i helped her kill two hours at work and then of course i am helping with the lab. Whatever, they both love me more than they know what to do about it. Everyone does... isn't that obvoius? So that means i pretty much have a million Valentine's but i didn't have to buy any presents.

My problem is this: not your typical whiny consumerist bullshit rant... but rather: why do we need a special day to remind us to love?

Awww, that's so sweet.

Monday, February 13, 2006


i've got an itch that needs scratching.

it's called my neck and my eyes and most of the rest of the giant organ we call skin.

to allergy pill or not to allergy pill?
that is the question

These Things I Know

Though i'm not consciously sure of what i'm looking for
And i obviously couldn't put it in to words
I know what I know
And i'll know it when i find it

Though i'm not consciously sure of where i'm going
And i obviously couldn't put it in to words
I know where i am
And i know i'm headed in the right direction

How do we know these things?
Where are the words?
And what do you have to do with it?

I demand an answer: What are you doing on my path?


Saturday, February 11, 2006

Word of the Day

This is one of my favourite words:

zeit·geist German, from Zeit + Geist spirit: the general intellectual, moral, and cultural climate of an era

Friday, February 10, 2006

Record Breaking


Time of death: 7:46pm, Friday, February 10, 2006.... and a new star emerges to take her destined place among the superstar record holders.

Congrats, z!! Mom and dad are listening to you on super loud internet transmission. They are eating indian food around dad's office desk, like... well, i don't know what they are like. Apparently, you didn't look happy during the first period when the refs were too quick on the whistle and stole another scoring chance from you.

Of course, i can't keep my attention on sound transmissions of hockey (memories of painful car rides with dad and his talk radio) so i am not down there listening with them, but i am waiting for the inevitable woot, woots (only much more high pitched and way less cool) from mom when you inevitably score like the hockey superstar you are. Then i run out to cheer with them. I guess that's only happened once, and i won't jinx it, but i expect it to happen again. lol, did i already jinx it?

Anyway, you deserve it. Though i will once again say that i don't condone the laissez-faire attitude about your own physical health that was the playing through broken wrists and shoulders and whatever else you broke and played through. But i will admit that i was impressed when you still managed to average a hattrick a game while your wrist was practically shattered. My hat is off to you, superstar schwester. I am honoured to have been the pocket to your rocket.

And of course, in the spirit of self promotion, i would like to point out to all my faithful readers *cough*two*cough* that i had no doubt that you would be the superstar that you are growing up practicing against the meanest, toughest, most skilled defense that was yours truly. Yeah, that's right. I get off on telling people that you could skate circles by anyone but me, and that i can skate backwards as fast as you can skate forward (which obviously is hella hella fast). At this point I don't even remember if it's true, but i better hear you tell people that story in interviews!

Dad must be so proud!... obviously we all are. But dad in a special, almost sickly way. hehe.

Bruder is so drunk that he is slurring his words. His coworkers have been buying him tequila shots since 3:30pm... as a sort of permature celebration of course. Clearly he had more faith in you than any of us! Oh bruder... you are a sloppy mess and schwester is a classy superstar. And me... well, i'm just sitting her drinking wine, listening to Matthew Good and soaking in all the goodness that you both bring. Bruder did just bring in some fine goodness, actually, and some much needed contacts.

That, and he just ran into my door.

It's a good night, dear ones. A good night.

Congrats again, z. A toast to you and all you do!

Quotes From Z

Love of beauty is Taste. The creation of beauty is Art. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

One good thing about music, when it hits- you feel no pain. - Bob Marley

Dear Robots

That is your reality, my friend. The reality is that we just simply don't know. None of us have ever died and lived to tell about it - or at the least, lived in a way that allows them to communicate with this life. We are all the creators of our own reality, anyway. Though most of the time, i don't feel like i am in control of my reality and yet somehow my reality is being created specifically for me.

Do you ever find yourself reading books or watching shows or having conversations that all seem to build upon each other? Do you ever find yourself shocked by the seemingly 'coincidental' nature of it all? It's like that almost all day for me. I just pick my books randomly from the shelf and somehow it's the perfect book to drive home some point that i have already been leaning towards, or it builds upon some concept that i had already started building and presently, the relevance of it all has been heightened tenfold. It's amazing if you are paying attention to it.

Of course, i can't be sure that others are having the same experiences. So it makes me wonder a few things: (a) do those of you who seem confused when i talk about this just not notice the synchrnocities in your own life? (b) have i just not talked to enough people, and once i do will find that a majority of the world lives in the same kind of life-built-just-for-them? (c) was this whole world built just for me?... which of course leads to the: are you all robots? problem. I suppose even if you told me that you lived in this same kind of life-built-just-for-you, i could surmise that you have all been programmed to say these things and yes, indeed, you are all still robots. Now, how is that for egocentric?

Self as centre.

... and now, for some news from around the continent:

GLASSPORT, Pa. -- A local man said he plans to find the person who shot his cat with an arrow.

BOSTON -- A former waitress at a Brockton strip club was accused of mailing explosive packages to other area strip clubs. The Boston Globe reported that she allegedly did it because she was tired of being mistreated by men.
Kimberly Lynn Dasilva, 40, of Hull, was arrested by FBI agents and State Police Friday and charged in connection with the mailings last September.
Dasilva also allegedly sent the packages containing condoms filled with Drano and gasoline to a local college and several media outlets. It's unclear why those locations were chosen.

... and my personal favourite (unfavourite):

PHILADELPHIA, Pennsylvania (AP) -- A transit bus driver grabbed a woman by the hair, knocked her head into a pole, opened the door and tossed her into traffic after she yelled at him for missing her stop, police said.
The 52-year-old woman, who was not identified, suffered a broken shoulder.

Can we say OUTRAGEOUS?... and not in the way that people abuse the word - this is an outrageous party, woot, woot. out'rage n. 1. shocking act or crime. 2. deep insult.

If people keep using our words lightly and poorly, the words lose their meaning and we don't have the words when we need them.

And yes, i know if i'm looking for bad news that's all i am going to get. It's just that the bad news is just so much badder than the good news is good.

Thursday, February 9, 2006

Original Plagiarism

It's too bad that i have nothing to say that i haven't copied from a book these days. People may say be original but to them i say:

o.rig'i.nal a. 1. first 2. new; novel 3. inventive 4. one who quotes things that no one else is quoting

We're all plagiarists. I've explained this before.

So here is something that someone else has already said better than me from a book i am reading called The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason by Sam Harris. I wanted to quote around ten pages (and i've only read thirty), so you'll just have to go out and read it yourself. Here's a tease (a loooong tease):

"Imagine that you have gone to your doctor for a routine checkup, and he gives you a terrible news: you have contracted a virus that kills 100 percent of those it infects. The cirus mutates so often that its course is totally unpredictable. It can lie dormant for many years, even decades, or it can kill you outright in an hour. It can lead to heart attack, stroke, myriad forms of cancer, dementia, even suicide; in fact, there seems to be no constraints upon which its terminal stages might be. As for strategies of avoidance – diet and health regimes, sequestration to one’s bed – nothing avails. You can be certain that even if you live with no other purpose than to keep the progress of this virus in check, you will die, for there is no cure for it in sight, and the corruption of your body has already begun.
Surely, most people would consider this report to be terrible news indeed – but would it be news, in fact? Isn’t the inevitability of death just such a prognosis? Doesn’t life itself have all the properties of our hypothetical virus?
You could die at any moment. You might not even live to see the end of this paragraph. Not only that, you will definitely die at some moment in the future. If being prepared for death entails knowing when and where it will happen, the odds are you will not be prepared. Not only are you bound to die and leave this world; you are bound to leave it in such a precipitate fashion that the present significance of anything – your relationships, yours plans for the future, your hobbies, your possessions – will appear to have been totally illusory. While all such things, when projected across an indefinite future, seems to be acquisitions of a kind, death proves that they are nothing of the sort. When the stopper on this life is pulled by an unseen hand, there will have been, in the final reckoning, no acquisition of anything at all.
And as if this were not insult enough, most of us suffer the quiet discomposure, if not frank unhappiness, or our neuroses in the meantime. We love our family and friends, are terrified of losing them, and yet are not in the least free merely to love them while our short lives coincide. We have, after all, our selves to worry about. As Freud and his descendants never tired of pointing out, each of us is dragged and sundered by diametrical urges: to merge with the world and disappear, or to retreat within the citadel of our apparent separateness. Either impulse, taken to its extreme, seems to condemn us to unhappiness. We are terrified of our creaturely insignificance, and much of what we do with our lives is a rather transparent attempt to keep this fear at bay. While we try not to think about it, nearly the only thing we can be certain of in this life is that we will one day die and leave everything behind; and yet, paradoxically, it seems almost impossible to believe that this is so. Our felt sense of what is real seems not to include our own death. We doubt the one thing that is not open to any doubt at all.
What one believes happens after death dictates much of what one believes about life, and this is why faith-based religion, in presuming to fill in the blanks in our knowledge of the hereafter, does such a heavy lifting for those who fall under its power. A single proposition – you will not die – once believed, determines a response to life that would be otherwise unthinkable.
We live in a country in which a person cannot get elected president if he openly doubts the existence of heaven and hell. This is truly remarkable, given that there is no other body of “knowledge” that we require our political leaders to master. Even a hairstylist must pass a licensing exam before plying his trade in the United States, and yet those given the power to make war and national policy – those whose decisions will inevitably affect human life for generations – are not expected to know anything in particular before setting to work. They do not have to be political scientists, economists, or even lawyers; they need not have studied international relations, military history, resource management, civil engineering, or any other field of knowledge that might be brought to bear in the governance of a modern superpower; they need only be expert fund-raisers, comport themselves well on television, and be indulgent of certain myths. In our next presidential election, an actor who reads his Bible would almost certainly defeat a rocket scientist who does not. Could there be any clearer indication that we are allowing unreason and otherwordliness to govern our affairs.
Without death, the influence of faith-based religion would be unthinkable. Clearly, the fact of death is intolerable to us, and faith is little more than the shadow cast by our hope for a better life beyond the grave."

Read something. Think about it.

Step outside yourself.

... we're all egocentric. The negative connotation is a matter of degree, my friend.

Wednesday, February 8, 2006

Word of the Day

ro·co·co (rə-kō’kō) a. full of elaborate decoration.

Tuesday, February 7, 2006

Word of the Day

whee'dle, v. coax

bl.og'stalk, v. virtually track down another person in order to read their blog and possibly leave comments, implying that, while the blogstalker may not be willing to admit it, he/she is truly enamoured with said person. -n. bl.og'stalk*er (this is an entry from the dictionary according to Rally... thanks for the comments! look how many people came to my rescue when my blogstalker finally had the balls to make himself known! i love you guys!)

Sunday, February 5, 2006


Check out the comments on the last post! It's too hilarious...

Little background: this kris fellow was someone i knew six years ago that apparently has been harbouring all these unneccessary negative feelings towards me all this time - though i can't really figure out how he would have found my blog since it's not under my name or anything... but that's beside the point. Don't you love how sad that is? Let it go, kris... you'd be a lot better off. I'm not even going to try to convince you that i am better than you because you obviously know that or else you wouldn't be wasting your time reading my blog and leaving nasty comments to try to cut me down. I'm just kidding, kris: You rock. *pat, pat* have a lollipop... have a hug... you obviously need one.

Kris and i won the top male and top female award when we graduated grade six together. I suppose we were always destined for animosity.

Keep up the good work, kris! It's nice that you keep in touch.

I Can't Get No Relief

Can someone please offer me some advice on how to get some relief for my eye? It's one of those itches that you have to scratch but scratching only provides temporary relief and of course the burning only subsides while my eye is shut and obviously this solution is just not practical. I believe it is from the cat allergies, but it seems to be pretty permanent these days and the allergy pills don't really do anything. Is there something else it could be? I am pretty sure it's not pinkeye as there is no 'discharge' problems (gross). So basically i can't do anything but poke the shit out of my eye for a few minutes every few seconds but never actually finding the itch. It's there somewhere cause i can feel it. But no matter what part of my eye i touch i can never seem to find the target zone.

... and don't suggest visine cause i tried that the other day and obvoiusly it just made it hella worse.

I suppose i am lucky since this is the biggest problem in my life these days.

Word of the Day

scur'ril.ous, a. vulgarly abusive. -scur.ril'i.ty [pl. -TIES] n.

Saturday, February 4, 2006

Word of the day: flamethrower

fl’ame.thr’ow*er: n. tool that you go out and buy when you have an ice or winter-basement-leakage problem because you think ‘Flamethrower! That sounds powerful and hot’ and you visualize the ice pouring off in buckets of steaming melted water, ‘that’ll do the trick’, only to get it home and realize it’s about as good as getting your face down and breathing on the ice, but now you bought it and you should use it and you still have this ice or winter-basement-leakage problem to deal with so you’ve got to do something and you don’t want to admit defeat and you’re not sure if you are an idiot for imagining that it might work like you imagined it to work in the first place, and if you give up then everyone would know that you had naively imagined that it would work much better cause you obviously wouldn’t have given up it if it worked like you imagined and otherwise why would you have bought something that you imagined would be so much work that you would give up, so besides you are going to enjoy it while you do it cause it makes you feel powerful to stand there throwing flames like some kind of otherwordly weaponry like out of the Super Mario Brothers movie. -person who throws flames.

Needless to say, the flamethrower was something of a waste of money if you judge it on a purely functional needs based criteria. But the interesting psychological side of it is something of an amusing form of entertainment. I suppose your reaction to this situation depends on which viewpoint you take. I like that my job requires me to go out and throw flames until the rain soaks through my sweater. The rain gave me an excuse to go inside when the power thing got old, and the power thing was fun for a while. I must admit that I was terrified of the thing but didn’t want to admit that so I took the flamethrower when the dad handed it to me and clearly when I saw that I had nothing to worry about the fear disappeared and was replaced by a quiet sense of power and competency. That and I got to spend time outside (it not being that cold and the flamethrower keeping off the chill) and away from the desk. So maybe I enjoyed it more than most would.

We’re quick to assume that everyone thinks the same thing.
We’re quick to assume that no one thinks the same.
Only to find that everyone thinks the same thing.
Only to find that no one thinks the same.

It’s a lovely little spaceship
It’s a lovely little thing
It’s a lovely little spaceship
It can hug and dance and sing
It’s a lovely little spaceship
I can come and I can go
It’s a lovely little spaceship
But it makes me feel alone

We’re all breathing in the same air
One big breath around the earth
Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale
Been sharing air each breath since birth

Friday, February 3, 2006

Word of the Day

gran.dil'o.quent, a. bombastic

...uh, yeah. I've heard of boombastic, but i don't quite think that's the same thing.

bom'bast, n. pompous speech. -bom.bas'tic, a.

Don't you love a good definiation word hunt. The best is when you look up one word only to have to look up a dozen words!

Now, if only i knew what any of those symbols meant... i assume they are pronunciation keys, but that's about all i know about them. I looked in the front and back of the dictionary and there is no legend for these symbols, so maybe they are some universal thing that everyone knows except me... although i doubt that. But what i did find is that in the back of the dictionary there are pages and pages of factoid lists: abbreviations, punctuations, weights and measures, perpetual calendar (teaches you to find the day of the week for any date, but seems rather complicated so just carry a calendar or look in your cell phone or blackberry or one of the many other portable devices everyone who is anyone carries to make our lives 'easier'. lol), the united states, the largest cities in the united states, nations of the world, major metropolitan areas, religious populations, facts about the earth, national parks of the united states, wedding anniversaries, birthstones, presidents of the united states (there is a clear USA bias here, obv), and hall of fame great americans. All this and they didn't even remember to explain their own pronunciation symbols!! idiots!

So if you are interested in any of those facts and do not understand the concept of 'google' then just let me know and i'll consult my dictionary facts.

Thursday, February 2, 2006

Word of the Day

sa.lu'bri.ous, n. healthful.

Wednesday, February 1, 2006

Over the Hump Day

It is officially closer to the next weekend than the last weekend. Is that how people live? From weekend to weekend? My weekends aren't much different from my weekdays so I don't know why i still protect this shiny image i have of weekends. I mostly just get bored without the intermittent work tasks from the dad. Then i just check and check and check for updates on people's blogs and since they probably have shiny weekends, they don't write so often and/or everyone updates early in the day so that i have read all the new posts by ten in the morning and am checking back for no reason. My parents have taken to abandoning me and bruder most weekends, which i - still in my high school days, i guess - always get excited about. But really it just means that i have to feed myself all weekend and make sure the kitchen is clean by the time they get back on sunday. Inevitably i call their cellys sunday morning to find out how long they are going to be. I like to pretend it's so i know how much more freedom i have, but really it's to find out when mom will be home to cook for me again.

I went grocery shopping with my mom today (read i was hijacked by my mother to deliver some document which was almost late and so she didn't have time to park and get out of the car and on the way home she stopped at the grocery store when i just wanted to get back home to read my celebrity fashion gossip on newly discovered blog Go Fug Yourself) and she asked me if mushrooms and steak was alright for dinner... or something like that. I wasn't even listening. I just told her that i didn't really care what she was making as long as she was feeding me. She made that i-have-such-rotten-kids face, but i didn't see what she was so upset about. What i meant by my apparently rude comment was that i wasn't going to demand her to make whatever my mouth fancied on this particular day/i am not some bratty spoiled fussy kid/i love your food so much that it's all good and if i suggested something i would only hamper your creative culinary juices. See?... i should have been getting the my-kid-is-so-perfect face.

Getting back to the new celebrity fashion gossip blog, as i feel i have to explain that i am not some vapid celebrity obsessed bimbo (though of course i am). The girls that run this blog are hilarious. They notice everything and they sprinkle their vapid celebrity obsessiveness in with sharp - although sometimes rather cruel - commentary. But what i love about it is that i often love some of the apparently horrendous outfits. After hours of pouring over these images, i have now decided that i could easily be a celebrity because i would fit right in. My sis once told me that i stepped right out of In Touch magazine - though i am sure she did not mean this in a good way. It seems that celebrities are all over the homeless-cutup-truckerhat-boho-mishmash-baggy-unkept look. I've got that down! In my own words, 'i dress like a jackass'... and apparently that's a style.... and i wasn't even trying!

My mom once told me 'you like to cut things. that must mean something'... it means i have vision, yo!

Unfortunately for those who were feeling the look, i have officially departed from the Britney fashion world as i got me some soap and my clothes are happily swimming around in suds as we speak - and for anyone who hasn't been watching Britney Federline's fashion choices they include grass stains and coke stains and all over uncleanliness, eugh. Although my clothes are all still unwashed or in the process of being washed, I pleasantly realized this morning that i am cleaner than i have been in a long time. I had to take a look in my closet this morning only to remember that i only wear about one tenth of my wardrobe and have been recycling the entire contents of what is now - and should have been a long time ago - my laundry basket on a daily basis. We all know that jeans hold together better with dirt, so don't judge me. But back to this morning's outfit choice: i discovered the most comfortable pair of army green chords that i haven't worn in something like two years. They are nothing special or stylish or form fitting or anything that would even slightly give off the impression that i cared more about style than comfort, which means they are perfect. I found an old army green old navy shirt that doesn't exactly fit me as well! So i'm pretty much incognito today, blending in with the glaringly white decor of the grocery store, in order to keep out of the flashing papparazi (fat italian singer on a motorbike?) eye. I don't want to see my celebrity self on Go Fug Yourself tomorrow complete with harsh commentary on what i think is an entirely perfect outfit... and clean!

Ok, so back to reality.

Shoveling makes your back hurt but in a good way. I won't lie - i don't hate it.

Choir practice tonight... la la la la la la la. Time to rock out like the church rockstars we truly are!

Word of the Day

ful'mi.nate (ful'-) v. 1. explode. 2. denounce strongly.