I finally have my computer back, and internets in the new apartment! Hurray!
I posted these images as an album on Facebook already, but I said I would post something here, so.... HERE THEY ARE AGAIN OKAY. With mostly recycled captions because I am only capable of being so creative over a period of so many hours, god.( beach livingCollapse )
Living out here on the beach is pretty sweet thus far, though it comes with the arduous task of testing numerous cafes and restaurants, particularly the endless number of sushi restaurants.
Also, I officially registered at Ryerson yesterday, so after a brief pause I am a student again. Hurray?
This morning I had the weirdest dream that I was at a funeral that was failing miserably, because it was so hilarious that the people I was sitting with and I just couldn't stop laughing.
First, some kid went up to speak about the deceased but ended up announcing that he wanted to sleep with his sister, which was fairly uncomfortable.
Then his father stood up and said "Son, I think you've put the tip in... why don't you just pull it out before you get too far." WTF? For some reason it struck us as extremely funny that he said that, and we all shot him thumbs ups.
Then in an attempt to get the funeral back on track, some old man went on to speak about the deceased, but it devolved into a rant about how he hated the deceased because his EYES were always STARING.
So then as a last resort, Nick, the dean of residence at King's, stood up and nervously attempted to make things right, with some analogy about how manhood has to do with herbal tea and chest hair. We actually died laughing at that, and I woke up breathless and with that pain you get in your ribs from doubling over laughing.
What the fuck.
Hey oh man check out this hilarious piece of delight that appeared on the front page of the Toronto Star today:
Worst of all, it had a completely innocent caption. Not even a HINT of a pun. Where clearly it should have been something like OBAMA AND SARKOZY "CHECK OUT" G8 SUMMIT; DEEM THINGS A "FINE ASS" STATE OF AFFAIRS
Man I should work for newspapers, am I right?!
I'm in the process of moving! I have an amazing apartment in Toronto's Beach area (yep, Toronto actually has a beach). Yesterday I got the biggest IKEA delivery ever, and so will have furniture once I get back over there and complete assembly of it.
Unfortunately I don't have internet over there yet. It's not even because I'm waiting for internet service, as I expected- my modem showed up super early, in the mail yesterday! I COULD have internet! But my laptop's fan is having issues, so it's out for fixin' until at least next week. God damn it.
Anyway, hopefully next week I'll be back on the internet in full force, and maybe make a visual update. I'm not sure what I'm going to do in that place by myself without internet... probably draw a lot of comics, and maybe attempt to continue the writing I'm doing right now by hand? Should I print all 300 pages or whatever and attack it with a red pen? AGGH SO RELIANT ON TECHNOLOGY
I will say it's a little ridiculous that I've decided to move from the only neighbourhood in Toronto that still has garbage collection (good old Etobicoke) out into smells-ville at the height of the civic workers' strike. (Seriously, it's been 18 days, and the mayor just said that the garbage is being "managed well"? Are you serious? WAFTING CLOUDS OF STENCH, IS MORE LIKE IT. Last time there was a garbage strike, they resolved it quicker because it was almost World Youth Day and the Pope was heading this way, but this time that's not the case, so the outlook is slightly grim... Clearly
we need Papa Ratzinger up in this shit)This is what I'm listening to right now, and I highly recommend it.
It's the same band that I linked last time I linked a song I was listening to a lot, because they are just so excellent, and after a bit of a break from them, they have been demanding my attention a lot again over the past few days.
I had a few songs of theirs downloaded when I was a teen, but for some reason I never looked into them further. I'm really glad my sister gave me one of their CDs this past Christmas. I'm going to have to purchase more extremely soon. (Especially since an old CD player is one of my only forms of electronic entertainment in the apartment right now... OH GOD ELECTRONIC ENTERTAINMENT WHY DO I NEED YOU SO BADLY)
I always make a production about how I can't describe my tastes in music, but I realize "punk" and "folk" factor into it greatly. Almost everything I really enjoy has punk in the title (i.e. Irish folk punk, "cabaret soul" punk, Deutsche dance punk, etc etc), and in the cases where punk is absent, some folk-ish element usually takes its place. So there we go! Now I have an answer to the question! Hooray!
Also, I realized that 90% of the time I prefer male singers. WHAT IS THAT ABOUT.
- Mood:awfully busy, yet not so much
- Music:Flogging Molly - Screaming at the Wailing Wall (live)
Well, I survived, I guess! I finished everything on time, presented my thesis and subsequently wrote it (whoops), undergrad done. Frig. I've also gotten my grades back in the meanwhile, and while it wasn't the best semester ever, it was pretty solid. Finished! Hooray!
So, if I've been done school since April 20, what have I been doing since then instead of recording my every move in this Internets piece of junk? Well, our lease ended on April 30/May 1, so we had to move. Moving out of that place was a process... We lived there for 2 years, and accumulated a lot of things while there.( Harvey House MemorialCollapse )
Anyway. As previously mentioned, I'm living temporarily with my boyfriend and cat until my parents roll into town. It's a little odd, because every time I make plans to hang out with my friends here there's this unspoken sense of it potentially being the last time we plan to hang out, which I am attempting to ignore.
Blah. I have a dinner to make. More babble later, no doubt.
My scanner is a little crummy, but I like it fine. I got it from some couple off Kijiji. They lived in an apartment building in a sea of apartment buildings in the North End, and having forgotten to write down the exact address I sort of guessed which one to try and ended up being right, proving that we were meant to be together. RIGHT. Anyway, the couple was nice enough. They gave me a recycling bag because it was pelting rain, and I wrapped the scanner in it and ran home with it cradled in my arms.
That was a while ago. When I got my new computer this January, I reinstalled the scanner software, and somehow during that I process I caused my scanner to only speak Brazilian Portugese. It's a little annoying, but... It gives the crummy little thing a bit of a character, at least.
NÃO ABRA A TAMPA DO SCANNER
Anyway, yes. I am babbling about my scanner because I drew something and scanned it. Remember that time I drew lots of pictures??? NEITHER DO I LOL( MelbyCollapse )
In case anyone out there is, for some reason, concerned for my academic well-being and wondering if I kept to that efficient work-plan I made.... no, no I did not. One essay that was originally due last Thursday was extended to this Tuesday. What that means is, this Tuesday, I have two 8-page essays due, as well as my final thesis presentation. Gulp. I finished one of the essays yesterday. I have to finish the other one today. Then tomorrow morning I edit both of them... and in the evening, I finish writing and rehearse the crap out of my presentation. Nice job, Procrastinator Dan.
Then I write my thesis for 6 days straight.
BACK TO THE SALT MINES
So, my second-to-last class that I will ever attend
for my undergraduate degree required us to read an ethnographic account of death rituals among the Matsigenka (also known as Machiguenga), an indigenous group from the jungles in Peru. I've always enjoyed reading about religions and rituals more than most other things, which might have something to do with why I like this so much. There's a certain beauty in how people cope with tragedy, and along that line of thinking, I think this is one of the most beautiful things I've ever read:( Excerpt from 'Three Days for Weeping'Collapse )
The last line is my MSN sidenote right now, mostly because I'm a gigantic douchebag.
Papers to write aaaaagggghhh
I read things so differently depending on my mood. That's why a small part of On the Road is completely earmarked from moments when I was like "yeah! Yeah!!! What a thought!", while the rest of it is distinctly un-earmarked, because as I read it I was just like, THIS IS ALL BULLSHIT.
But there's definitely an emotional lens that I strap on when reading, sometimes. Some books are good enough that they force me to put it on no matter what. (Example: Fugitive Pieces. In it, Anne Michaels describes tangible, physical elements of emotions. It's incredible and shouldn't be possible, but she manages it somehow, and it forces you to feel them, and forces you to remember and discover all the ways in which it is possible to be heartbroken........ I would write her a long letter of adoration if I knew where she lived/that wasn't totally creepy.)
Similarly, last night I read a sentence that clearly articulated the feeling of mourning, and was completely touched by it. Later, I read it again, only to realize it was nothing particularly groundbreaking. Still, in the right moment, honesty just works.
I think this clarifies why I love and hate my own writing on different days. Sometimes I'm looking at it emotionally and think, YES, that's exactly what I was trying to express, and other times I look at it rationally and think... fuck, but that's some cliché garble.
I think you have to be really, really talented in order to legitimize emotional garble in your writing. I'm fairly doubtful that I'm anywhere near that talented yet. Fortunately, writing is a lifelong experience.
Sometimes I don't write for a long time and then I get concerned that I'm losing it. I haven't written anything substantial since November, and the other day my brain took over and was spurting out scenes uncontrollably, so I wrote for about 6 hours straight to quiet it down. Those kinds of episodes give me hope, even if their end products aren't always that wonderful.
Current novel length: 189 pages single spaced. 104,891 words. (+ 15 page, 7,611 word useless epilogue.) Frig.
For the next 18 days, though, I have to lay that aside and churn out the last few assignments of my undergraduate degree.
18 days. Eighteen. Jesus.This song is helping me power through everything wearying.
- Music:flogging molly - man with no country
I have drafted a plan that will allow me to escape from my undergraduate degree unscathed. It allows me to survive by doing minimal amounts of work per day, with a lot of Saturdays off to ensure sanity. It also involves me finishing essays way before they are due in order to ensure that everything has enough time to happen and that there's not a big bunch of things due at once. Can I do it? No clue, but I'm going to try, gosh darn it.
Would you like to see my escape plan? Of course you wouldn't, but I am posting it anyway because I am at work and THERE IS NOTHING TO DO except bother Vincenzo, which I have already been doing for about an hour, to the best of my abilities. Time to move on to plan B: shitty HTML tables.( Undergraduate Escape PlanCollapse )
Everything would be a lot easier if stupid 4003 didn't require me to do reading responses for every single class. It is my least favourite course ever and I am afraid of the professor, and I haven't had to attend for like 3 weeks (which was awesome) for various reasons, but because she had to cancel two meetings (it's a once-a-week class, so one meeting is a 3 hour, boring, terrible big deal) she is making us meet an extra time this Friday. Terrible 3 hour class on Friday, then again on Monday. That is the very worst bread I could ever have imagined for my weekend sammich.
Still, it's doable. Right? Doable? I will just never socialize again. Today I had a depressing talk with my boyfriend, with whom I have been spending tons of time as usual, and we realized that we'll probably have to hang out a lot less over the next month so we can both finish our thesis....es. Theses. It's a pretty shitty realization, since nothing takes down the stress levels like cuddling and watching Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job.
I've been having health problems left and right but it looks like everything is finally settled down, so I can get back to work concentrating on school. Right? Maybe? It's hard to concentrate on school when your body is going nuts. I've had 13 doctor's appointments in 2009. That's downright unnatural.
I want to vow to be more healthy now that I've been compromised for over a month, but it's really hard to stick to, especially when faced with the stress of a final term. I need to learn to channel that stress in productive ways, rather than it making me shut down and hide in my room in the dark and play computer games and pretend I have no responsibilities.
Still, I'm vaguely determined, so we'll see. I need to find something active that is also stress relieving for me. My biggest problem is that I find being out in public stressful, so it needs to be something I can do while hiding in my room. Suggestions, Internets? (No, sex doesn't count.) I should learn more yoga, I guess...
HAY MY NAME IS TIRED LISTEN TO ME TALK
I wrote this on the whiteboard at work on my overnight last week: "HAY PALS
DON'T YOU JUST LOVE FACILITIES THIS IS SO MUCH FUN I AM SO GLAD I AM HERE AT 5 IN THE MORNING
". For some reason, no one's erased it yet. That brings me moderate cheer.
The other day, I was alerted through Facebook to the fact that there was some kind of pro-life speaker coming to a Halifax university to speak, and that it NEEDED TO BE PROTESTED. This already made me cringe, because I tend to think there are very few situations where protests are actually helpful. But I read further through the thing, and it had some reasons why it might be necessary including that the group being represented compares abortions to the holocaust, which is idiotic on a million levels. Okay, fine. Maybe I see why you might want to protest something like that.This, however, was the result of all that (Seriously, what ISN'T on YouTube these days? TECHNOLOGY).
Let's get one thing straight: I'm about as pro-choice as they come, and I have zero respect for anyone who would draw a connection between abortions and the holocaust. With all that in mind, I watched the above video last night and was both horrified and extremely embarrassed.
Fair enough, the talk was called "Echoes of the Holocaust". That's too fucking stupid for words. But how can you seriously stand in the back of an auditorium and shriek WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED without making a connection between what you're saying and what you're doing? The irony is sickening.
I can guarantee that the only thing the people in this forum who were pro-life to start with went away feeling was increased hostility towards people with other viewpoints and, if anything, strengthening in their own beliefs. Why the fuck do you spout nonsense loudly in such a PERFECT SITUATION IN WHICH YOU COULD HAVE POINTED OUT THE OTHER PERSON'S NONSENSE LOGICALLY? Instead you drown out any chance for him to say anything nonsensical and make yourselves look like the assholes. In fact, you ruin your OWN argument, which was perfectly sound before you opened your mouths.
FUCK, I hate feminists. I'm increasingly more ashamed to be one as each day passes. How the fuck can you legitimately try and protest freedom of speech by silencing someone else?
I refuse to believe I'm betraying my gender or beliefs by wanting to hear a pro-life person speak. I believe there is never, EVER any situation in life where you should be above hearing your opponent's ideas. If they're complete and total offensive bullshit, then you'll be all the more well-equipped after hearing them out to rationally point out the errors in their thinking.
Hey friends, thanks for your well wishes on my last desperate post!! Things are better since then, as I can once again stand upright and hurry when crossing the street so as not to piss off cars, as well as sleep through the night without waking up at 4 AM and inhaling drugs. It's pretty amazing to be mobile and (relatively) pain-free! Things aren't 100% solved, though, as I just discovered when in a whirlwind 10 minutes I lost a little part of my ass forever.
The beast-infection made its presence known through a large pink bump in my tailbone area. While the bump had since gone down to about 1/8th of the size it was, it was still there even after a week of system-blasting antibiotics. I decided not to take any chances and so returned to the doctor today to seek her advice.
Her reaction on seeing it was "oh, shoot!" which is always, um, extremely comforting to hear. She then informed me that I had two choices: 1) do nothing and hope really hard that mother nature decides to take pity on me and heal it on her own, with the possible risk of the thing turning around and coming right back, or 2) freeze it, cut it out, pack it up and come in for "dressing changes" every day for 10 days.
Those are terrible choices!, I told her. Worst ever. However, I decided that anything is better than suffering through last week again, so I grudgingly chose the latter.
"COME WITH ME THEN" she said and flung open the door to the waiting room. I stared at her, asking "NOW???" while still awkwardly doing up my pants. But she had already started jogging across the waiting room, so I grabbed my stuff and stumbled after her.
"NOW" WAS RIGHT. First she injected my lump with some kind of horrible freezing solution, telling me it would sting a lot. It did. Like liquid fire. I made a strangled noise of surprise and she said "YOU ARE VERY POLITE. MOST PEOPLE ARE MORE VOCAL ABOUT IT." and I was like "ghhhkhkh"
Then I guess she cut it out. I had my face pressed into my arms and was thinking furiously about kittens or something like that so I'm not 100% sure how it happened. All I know is the freezing didn't quite reach the top of the thing, so when she cut there I made an exclamation of pain and she was like "oh, sorry" and kept right on cutting.
"Well," she told me, "there's still stuff in here so it looks like the infection would have come right back. Looks like we made the right choice after all! Sometimes I tell people we should cut it out and then I cut it and it turns out there was nothing in there and I'm like, ha ha, shit." RIGHT
Then she stuffed gauze into my wound. Then a gruff nurse came and slapped a giant patch over it and told me that if I wanted to ever shower again I'd better start cutting up grocery bags and taping them to myself. FUN TIMES.
But it's gone now, at least! Even though I have a gauze-packed ass and have to go into that horrible clinic every day for the next 10 days. Anything, though, to be able to WALK. AND SIT. AND LIE DOWN. I am so fucking excited to be able to lie on my back, guys. You have no idea.
I was going to finish this post with a photo of my packed up ass, but I decided it might be kinder on you all if I didn't subject you to that without warning. (And yes, I definitely did take such a photo. ...FOR THE COLLECTED WORKS.)
- Music:flogging molly - us of lesser gods
I've been slightly crippled and I'm pretty sore about it (GET IT). My love and admiration for senior citizens has greatly increased since this occurred. I never realized how many obstacles there are to walking anywhere, UNTIL NOW.
Here's the deal: inflamed tailbone. Right now I am sitting with my less-hurting-butt-side on one foot and an ice pack in my pants. This is pretty much the only way I can sit comfortably. It hurts to walk, unless I lean slightly forward and hobble slowly like an old person. And lying down is only comfortable if I lie on one side and lean forward slightly, so most of the weight is on my pelvis rather than my back... if you get my meaning. It is inconvenient in that it makes it hard to rest when lying down hurts. And whenever I roll over in my sleep, I wake up yelping. And don't even get me started on getting OUT of bed! It resembles that scene in Arrested Development in which Tobias awkwardly rolls onto a stage.... YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT
You know how many of life's fun things occur in one of those 3 positions? ...MOST OF THEM
(Alternatives some people helped me come up with today: Pinball, darts... loitering? Frig.)
Anyway. This isn't really for sympathy so much as to register my amazement at how many stairs there are in life to walk up and down. Frig! Also, no wonder old people are so crabby. Walking slowly and hunchily really puts one in a sour mood.
Also, getting to the doctor was a bitch. I realized that I hurt too much to walk properly on Sunday, and so went in search of someone who would treat me. The walk-in clinic was fully booked for the whole day - WTF??? How.... how does that happen? Eventually I got the on-call doctor at University health to look at me, but it came with substantial amounts of sass from both the secretary and the nurse even as I was hiccuping with tears of frustration and pain on the phone (PATHETIC IMAGE).
Anyway: I pledge here and now that once I heal enough to walk like a normal person, I will start running around more often and like it. Mostly because I'd rather make sure my body is in good shape so that I don't become this creaky in my old age... Yikes.