And These Children That You Spit On As They Try To Change Their Worlds...

Mood: A generalized feeling of bluh, compounded by a specific feeling of bluh.

Watching: Why, "The Breakfast Club" of course

So, while lamenting the passing of the great John Hughes by watching his greatest films, I was inspired to actually complete Principal Vernon's assignment to The Breakfast Club.

The Assignment: Write a 1000 word essay, no more, no less, explaining exactly who you think you are. It cannot be the same word repeated 1000 times.

Well, while I'm neither Molly Ringwald, Ally Sheedy, Anthony Michael Hall, Emilio Estevez, or the surprisingly shmexy Judd Nelson (oooh, 80s Judd Nelson how I kind of want to bone you), I feel that I would have got along well with the kids in The Breakfast Club....okay, that's a lie, I probably would have just made out with Bender in the corner for the whole nine hours...okay, the me NOW would do that, high school me would just pine after him and sigh longingly in his general direction. Anyway, the point being, I'm doing this, so shut the fuck up.

Who The Fuck I Think I Am An Essay By Karen Hainstock I am a tattooed, underachieving, loudmouthed brat. I am an intelligent, efficient and thorough learner. I am a dedicated, overachieving, hard-working employee. I am a smart-ass, witty, sarcastic bitch. I am a nerdy, obsessive, geeky girl. I am an English-Canadian with a weird accent and a bizarre sense of humour. I am a dreamer, a writer, and a thinker of great thoughts of little importance. I am a timid, shy and nervous person. I am an enthusiastic, willing and playful lover. I am a caring, compassionate and loving friend. I am a hopeless romantic who believes that doing things to make people happy is the greatest thing you can do in life. I am a selfish douchebag who wishes more people would actually offer to do things for her every once in a while without being asked. I would be a good soldier if I could get over the idea of being told to kill people I might not necessarily agree need killing. I am one lazy motherfucker. I am a sister, a cousin, and, soon, an aunt. One day I will be a mother. My children will grow up knowing what it's like to fall, get hurt, and get back up again, knowing that there will be someone there to pick them up and brush them off if they can't do it themselves. I am directionless and so concerned about the state of my future that I fear making a wrong choice and therefore haven't made any yet. I am sound, and fury, signifying nothing, but if the end were to come upon me too soon I would rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light. I think the number of people out there with “So it goes” tattoos is ridiculous. I think the number of people out there with Beatles lyrics tattooed on themselves is ridiculous (and, yes, I am one of them). I really do believe that love is all you need, but that love isn't just your boyfriend or girlfriend or husband or wife. It's loving your friends and being loved by them in return. It's loving your job and knowing you're doing something valuable (even if you're not). It's loving your family and knowing they love you even though you don't say it often enough. It's loving your home, your pet, your neighbour. It's loving that crappily knit scarf you made years ago that's lopsided and full of holes but is something you made and can be proud of. I am poor in money, but rich in experience. But I could stand to be richer in both. I have a scary pit of rage that exists somewhere near my stomach and flares up now and again for no reason. And when it does, like Tyler Durden, I just want to watch the world burn. It can never be fully quenched; it smolders on like the ashes of a fire, waiting to spring back into existence with a spark. If I was a sin, it would be wrath, not lust, although sometimes the two come together. While the world burns, I want to rut like an animal on a bearskin rug and bask in the glow of anger. I am also overly poetic sometimes. I am twenty-one and have done things in my life that I am not proud of. I have kept secrets, told lies, and made bad decisions. If I ever went to a confessional, my atonement would be long. By the time I'm thirty-one that atonement will be longer. For every one thing I've done that I'm not proud of, I've done at least three things I am. By the time I'm thirty-one, that list will also be longer. I cry at the sad parts in movies, even if they're absolutely stupid. But then I pretend it didn't happen. I can be one of the guys or one of the girls or a bit of both. I like drinking beer, playing video games, watching sports (in person) and fart jokes. I also like wearing make-up, shopping, and drinking overpriced coolers. Gays/lesbians flock to me. I know not why. I try my hardest not to judge people, because, quite frankly, there are a lot of people who would judge me for the lifestyle that I lead. I believe in God. What I don't believe in are his followers who think that the whole “Jesus is love” thing is selective. I agree with Marx that religion is the opiate of the masses. I've never been in a fist-fight. The day will come, and on that day, I'm going to fight fucking dirty. I think anyone who sneers and spits upon popular music, or film, or literature, is an idiot. Just because a lot of people enjoy something doesn't detract from its cultural value. Even crap is culture, it's just a little different from what you might be used to/comfortable with. I believe that some people are truly too worthless to be allowed to breed. They tend to have a lot of kids. What I think, and what the majority thinks, are often two very different things. I'm quite certain someone feels exactly the same way as me. I tend to rant about things that aren't really that important. Like how hard it would be to mass produce Gear armor. I think if we gave peace a chance we'd give it up in about a week. We like war. We're animals. Deal with it. If we ever ran into an alien species, the first thing we'd do is try to wipe them out. I am whatever you've made me into. I am whatever you want me to be. I am a brain. And a jock. And a basket case. And a princess. And a criminal. And, most importantly, I'm happy just the way I am. If you don't like it, too fucking bad. Learn to love yourself first, then we'll talk. This bitch is exactly 1000 words. I'm just that awesome. So, in the end, thank you, John Hughes. You tried your hardest to normalize the teen experience. You succeeded. And thank you, all of you, who have made me as I am today. If this enlightened you, congratulations. If this causes you to look at me in a different way, just remember, I'm the exact same person I was before. It's just that now you know what you're dealing with. Slainte.

It's A New Dawn, It's A New Day, It's A New Life For Me....And I'm Feeling Good

Mood: Content. Like a monkey, after many hours of grooming and random monkey sex.

Watching: DOOM! Aka yet another movie where Karl Urban is a sexy motherfucker.

Current Obsession: Star Trek Reboot macros...like this one!

You know what's fun? Reading old blog posts. Ahhh, drama.

ANYWAY, yearly update. Ready for it? I don't think you are mothafuckas....alright, fine, UPDATE!

1)I really really really REALLY love the new Star Trek movie. If you couldn't tell by the macro obsession. I'm not really a huge fan of the original series (although it's growing on me now that I've gotten over the LOLZ factor and started paying attention to storylines). And the cast is so. fucking. PRETTY. AKA they're GQMFs. For serious.

2)I'm laid off from Sitel. Which is shitty and yet awesome all at the same time. Shitty because I'm on pogey (or will be once I get my final paycheque and ROE) and can't afford to do things (like go to school. THANK YOU GRANDMA! She bailed me out, which makes me feel like a failure, but meh.). Awesome because this is the first time I've had anything resembling a vacation in SIX YEARS. That's right folks, six years. The last time I didn't have a job was about four years ago and it lasted for about a day. Yeah, that's right.

3) I'm single. And really okay with that actually. It means I have a wide variety of avenues to explore and can actually take advantage of them without feeling guilty/instantly thinking that sex=relationship. I'm only 21, I have YEARS to get into a serious relationship and fall in love and get married. And as much as I like BEING in a relationship, it's not high on my priorities list right now. Anyone who knows me knows that as soon as school happens my amount of free time goes down to about 20 minutes a week (although with the whole laid off thing I'm not sure whether that free time will increase or decrease...meh). The last time I was in a relationship and trying to go to school and work at the same time I did a LOT of school skipping. And procrastinating. And generally being a shithead. So, single is good. Give it about three months though, I'll go back to wanting a relationship again.

4)Speaking of being poor and school, I don't know what I want to do come the fall in terms of jobness. I mean, obviously I need one. I'm REALLY hoping I can get my job back at Le Chap, not because it was, you know, the most fantastic job ever but because again I loved the people that I worked with. The hours wouldn't be that great, but it might be kind of nice to have a job that doesn't demand crazy retarded things from me. On the other hand, I won't have any money. Like, at all. Between bill paying, gas in the car, and paying back my g-ma (plus, you know, hopefully putting money aside for school) I will have NOTHING LEFT. Which is shitty, because I like having money and being able to do things. It's spiffy. The obvious thing to do would be to try and do what I did before and work two jobs while going to school, but working 40+ hours some weeks while doing at least 12 hours of class (which equals at least 8 hours of homework each week) means I have no time for myself. I mean, lets say I work 30 hours a week (which I was averaging working two jobs, or even just the one job at Sitel. It's pretty reasonable to assume). So, thirty hours a week. We'll say approximately seven hours of sleep a day, which equals 49 per week. A minimum of five hours a day for eating, getting ready, and travel, so 35 hours a week. Then add in those 12 hours of school, plus we'll be conservative and round up to ten hours a week of homework. Throw in about an hour a day for things like going to the bathroom and we have this: 30+49+35+12+10+7=143. There's 168 hours in the average week. Now, okay, 25 hours of spare time is almost a whole day, right? But that 25 hours is spread out over the course of the week. Some of that 25 hours will be spent sitting up at Brock trying to catch up on homework, which isn't really relaxing. Some of it will be spent in extra travel. Trying to catch up on my sleep. Seeing friends. Working extra shifts. Soaking in the bathtub. I mean, take that 143 and divide it by 7, you've got 20.5 hours a day just doing the necessary shit. That leaves three and a half hours of free time and they're probably not consecutive. If I sleep an extra hour every night that means I go down to 18 free hours and only 2.5 hours of free time a day. I did this for three years, and for three years my grades consistently sucked, I didn't sleep properly, I got sick hardcore when my exams were done because my body couldn't take it, and I still generally had no money because more money=more spending. And again, look at the math. If I'm working almost 40 hours a week, instead of the estimated 30 that's going to cut into something somewhere. I like having personal relaxation time, so guess what? Sleep and homework tend to suffer, and when sleep and homework suffer eventually my body just says "fuck all y'all" and I start sleeping through alarms and ditching class. See, it sucks balls. I can knuckle under and do this if I really want to, but what I'd really like is just to have one year where I can say "fuck it" and just focus on school. Unfortunately that won't happen because, guess what, I'm going to be working one job, scraping by, and then come next summer when I try and get a job again I'm going to be fucked for a position because no one wants to hire a student just for the summer. This is why I liked Sitel, because at least they were flexible about student schedules. Of course they fucked me over hardcore, but hey, that's not my problem. Decisions, decisions.

5)On a Sitel sidenote, I kind of miss the people I worked with. Actually, that's kind of a lie, I see the people that I really liked from Sitel fairly often (well, my idea of fairly often, I'm sure other people would disagree). But I liked the atmosphere, especially towards the end when we had a general "we're all in this together, brothers (and sisters) in arms" type of relationship. Well, for the most part. Don't miss the company themselves, don't miss talking to idiots and fuck-ups on the phone, don't miss the job, just miss the people. Kind of hoping that call back happens before the beginning of September, but not really holding my breath for it.

6)So I'm going to be an aunt. Which is amazing, and a little scary, and kind of gives me a feeling of pending dread and responsibility. For most people, aunt or uncle is kind of one of those "hey, that's super, I'll have to buy some presents" type of deals. But for me it's kind of important. Really important. I didn't have any little brothers or sisters to help raise, I was the last kid born in my family (except for my cousin Kevin and he's only six months younger than I am, so yeah), and I never really got into the whole babysitting thing. But lately I've been hanging out with a lot of people who have kids (and the aforementioned kids) and I realized that I LIKE kids. And kids like me...not in a creepy way, you pervs. I have no problem looking after little monkey children, and maybe it's because I'd only have to do it for a short period of time, but I'm proud of it. And I'm proud of my brother and his awesome wife, and I know they'll be amazing parents, and that little girl's going to grow up surrounded by people who love and spoil her (I mean, she'll be living with one set of grandparents, her other aunts and uncles will literally be up the street or two blocks over, and her cousins will be there for her to play with). I just hope I get to see her alot, which I know means that I need to take a more active role in the whole family thing. I'm not ANTI SOCIAL, per se, but I'm different from most of the people in my family, and sometimes I forget how to be "normal" which means I tend to avoid situations where that's a requirement. And the downside of me being almost five years younger than my brother is that we didn't really get to be that close growing up, so it's not like it's perfectly natural for me to just show up at the house. But I'm going to try, because my niece needs to get to know her weirdo aunt. That kid's going to spend a day with me and come home hyper, smeared in chocolate, and excited, with a little mohawk and a cool t-shirt and awesome stories to tell about going to the zoo, or seeing a movie, or going to the playground and falling off a swing and skinning her knee and crying and then having Auntie K buy her a popsicle and kiss it better and then go off running and screaming and having fun again, or reading a really awesome book and watching some classic Disney. Basically, I want to make sure that this kid gets to experience a little bit of what made my childhood awesome. Her mom and her dad and her other aunts and uncles are going to be kickass and do all of this for her too (I hope) but I like to make sure I have my hand in it as well. I'm crazy like that, I know. But I still can't wait :D

7)So, my mom's been kind of sick of the last little while. Which is shitty. She's getting better (well, better in that she's preventing the same thing from happening in the future) but still. It sucks balls having a mom who's sick and who spends a few days each month feeling like crap. But it's actually shown me that what I think is the worst that can happen really isn't all that bad all the time. I mean yeah, she feels like crap, but she doesn't really show it. She doesn't whine or complain to people about how terrible she feels. I mean, obviously she's allowed to feel like shit, but she doesn't mope. It's a trait in my family that when shit goes down that isn't pleasant or fun we make jokes. We laugh about it. We don't underestimate the seriousness of the situations, but we poke fun at it. It's a defensive mechanism and a lot of people don't get it or understand it, but it's made things a lot easier. As my mom put it "I'm not taking it seriously and moping, so no one else is." It's infectious, and it's how my family deals, and it's yet another thing that I'm really really proud of, and part of my family's legacy that I hope to pass on to my kids some day. Along with the generosity, which is something else I've inherited, mostly from my dad but also from my grandparents. When I was a kid if I was going to Canada's Wonderland for a day with the school, or if I was going on a class trip, or even if I had a good report card, my grandparents would also send over something, whether it be a gift or twenty bucks. Same with my parents, they always found $20 for me to go to the movies, or buy lunch, or whatever. Even now, when I need money for gas or in the case of this year for school, my parents and grandparents are always willing to help out. And again, that's something I'm thankful for and proud of, even if I don't show it often enough.

8) I'm embracing my inner (and outer) geek. Before I was a little bit ashamed of being such a nerd. Okay, so my geekiness has been challenged recently by people who are intensely geeky, but you know what, I don't care. I play video games. I read graphic novels. I can go off on tangents about anything Joss Whedon's ever made. "Big Bang Theory" is my favourite sitcom ever and I want to marry Leonard. And it's actually kind of working for me. Not that it gets me laid (well, not all that often), but it does mean I get to have amazing conversations with some truly awesome and surprising people, some of them new, some of them old. There's nothing at all wrong with being a geek, and for all those uninteresting, boring, sad motherfuckers who think that geekiness is pathetic? Guess what? There's a hell of a lot more of us than you think. And we're fucking hot. FOR THE WIN!

9)My basement flooded in the beginning of April, resulting in me being evicted from my room (which I thought was temporary). It's now July, and I'm still stuck upstairs in my hot as fuck bedroom. As a result I'm not sleeping all that great because a)it's hot as fuck b) it's loud since my parents are both loud talkers and the living room is about ten feet away and c)when the sun comes up my room is pretty much filled with light (particularly since the blackout curtains on the window above the bed aren't the correct size and the sun comes in the gaps). It kind of sucks balls, and it makes me feel like a kid again because I can't do anything "fun" since my parents are right next door. Well, I can, I just have to be all ninja like about it. It's not that great actually.....

Well, that's pretty much all I can think of right now. So yeah. That's me. WOOOOHOOOOOO!

It's Better To Burnout Than Fade Away

Mood: Blurarghh

Watching: Battlestar (yay Leoben!)

I'm in the middle of my yearly burnout and it sucks a big one. Fun fact, every year around about this time I go through a little process where my body realizes "holy shit, you haven't given me time to rest or relax in WAY too long"and then decides to shut down. Exhibit A, spontaneous vomiting. Yay! 

Some of it is work related, definitely. I like to think that I can put up with a lot of crap, and I let things just kind of roll off me and be deflected. Fun fact though, I'm not a robot. I'm not a Cylon or the Terminator or a Cyberman or even fucking C3P0 *cue pointing and laughing at geeky references*. I need time to process, for my body to remember what it's like not to be tense all the time. I need to go more than two nights in a row without having to take a supe call and sit there listening to people bitch about how much they hate their services, demanding things of me that I can't possibly give them. Now normally I'm pretty good with, again, letting these things go. I can understand where people are coming from, the anger and the frustration. What they don't seem to understand is that if the previous representative they were speaking to wasn't able to help them then the odds are I can't help them either. Please people, do me a favour. If you're calling somewhere to complain and the previous representative you've been speaking to has tried MULTIPLE WAYS to help you, and they still can't do anything, DON'T ask for a supervisor expecting a miracle. That's not how it works.

Unfortunately this year I can't even really blame school for my problems. I'm taking a whole two courses, both of which don't require all THAT much from me other than that I show up and do the work that's assigned to me. But with working at Sitel all day, by the time I have a day off I don't actually WANT to do this minimal amount of homework. I'm tired, I want to read something of my choosing, watch some TV and go to sleep. That's it. 

And sleep, ah sleep. I knew you well once upon a time. I officially go to bed at 5AM. Doesn't matter if I've had the day off, doesn't matter if I attempt to sleep at 12 or 1 or even 2, my body won't stop until 5 guaranteed. And unfortunately my lifestyle doesn't allow me to just nap away every day. I do have things that need doing, people I want to see, things I want to accomplish. I can't keep going like this, it's not a good thing. 

See, I wish this could be like last year where I just lost 10 pounds from not eating and slowly went insane. Now I'm still going insane, but my ass is getting bigger. Come on!

Anyway, I'll stop bitching now. Just saying, if I seem less than enthusiastic in the next little while, y'all know why. 

Certain As The Sun Rising In The East

Mood:Sleepy yet kind of upbeat. It's weird...
Watching:The Aristocrats. Sweet. Baby. Jesus.

Hello my ducklings, how are you today? Well that's good to hear. Now, I have some very important lessons to depart to you today, and I hope you're in the mood to listen, because I don't feel like repeating myself. Are you ready? Are you listening? Good.

Everything I've ever needed to know in life, I've learned from Disney movies.

Okay, seriously, stop laughing, it's true. I'm not talking about the movies that they make now over the course of three years with a team of 100 animators working furiously at their computers designing yet another computerized monstrosity of shit. Okay, other than Finding Nemo and Meet the Robinsons. Sorry, but it's true. Most of what Disney puts out now is just packaged shit. Flaming piles of it thrown at kids to try and keep their attention long enough for mom to have a break, which subsequently makes her think her kids have learned something and therefore she should just purchase whatever shit has that movie's characters plastered all over it. This doesn't apply to Kung Fu Panda though, because I love that movie. And it's not Disney. And I hear Wall E's cute too, but I can't say for sure, so for right now the tirade stands.

The movies I'm talking about my friends are the ones that were drawn by hand. On paper. And before 1999. These are the movies starring some of my favourite fictional people, from mermaids to warriors to Indian princesses. Now, props to Walt for having female "leads" in his older movies, but Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty can suck my balls. Sorry, but honestly, they were so deviated from the fairy tales that I have a hard time watching them, let alone trying to restrain myself from punching Snow White in the face when she starts singing to woodland creatures. SERIOUSLY.

The Disney movies that I love came out in that most important segments of childhood, before you're too old to stop going to movies with your parents (although that stage generally lasts until you're about 19 and you start realizing how much time you wasted as a teenager being sullen. Hasn't happened yet? It's coming folks, trust me...unless you really do hate your parents, then probably not.) They came out before I could string together a bunch of swear words into a coherent insult, before I would look at a guy on TV and think "I'd hit that", before I even knew what a penis was other than a naughty word *teehee*.

My FAVOURITE princesses, the ones I would secretly wish I could be in between wanting to be the green Power Ranger (I'm dead serious, he was ALL KINDS of kickass) and taking flying kicks at girl's shins on a soccer pitch were the ones who actually had something resembling a *shocked gasp* ATTITUDE. Yeah, that's right bitches, my girls had style, grace, dignity, and big swinging cajones. They could handle a sword with the best of them, they would canoe off fucking waterfalls like it was cake, and they had no problem pole vaulting over rooftops in a dusty Arabian city. They were powerful, but they were also vulnerable and this is why I loved them. And along the way they also imparted a few important lessons about life.

Lets start at the beginning. Ariel, the girl who longs for something more than what she was handed in life. She has a pretty sweet deal, the youngest and definitely most beloved daughter of Triton, a literal princess, she spent her days chilling with her fish friend and singing some kickass Caribbean showtunes. But she longed for change, for adventure, for a chance to be something more. She saw the beauty in what we would consider mundane everyday crap, simple objects, and she saw that things could be more than they are. We ascribe such high expectations on ourselves, let ourselves get caught up in what we're told is right, when if we could only let ourselves dream we could find new avenues, new adventures. We could finally become those bright young women, sick of swimmin', ready to stand that we've always been. And yes, while she does change to get the guy, Eric can't really come live in the ocean, it doesn't work that way. And besides, Eric still loved her when she was a mermaid. Also, he was smoking hot, JUST saying.

Belle. Ah Belle. She teaches every girl a lesson that we all inevitably forget, and that's to look past the exterior and see the beauty that shines within (although lets be honest here, how many girls have actually thought Beast was a LOT more awesome than his "real" self). Belle didn't start out as a princess, she was a simple peasant girl who loved to read (okay, anyone who knows me knows that's the first and best way to endear yourself to me). She loved her father, and willingly sacrificed herself on the mercy of this horrid Beast so he could be free. But she was often misunderstood and lonely, looked upon as strange, no question, by the other people in her village. She was different, and that's part of what got her into the situation she ended up in. Because she really was different than all the other girls. They would have gladly sacrificed their fathers to save themselves from being at the mercy of a Beast, and they certainly wouldn't have loved him enough to set him free of his curse. Belle was kind and generous and patient, oh so patient, to deal with so stubborn a man. She refused to let herself become cold and bitter, to stop herself from loving him. Of course he turned out to be a hot guy in the end, but I like to think that she wouldn't have stopped loving him regardless.

Then there was Jasmine. She kind of gets overshadowed by Aladdin since, you know, the movie isn't called Jasmine. BUT, she sneaks out of the palace to get her kicks, hangs out with the wrong crowd, and eventually gets the man that she wants anyway. Okay, so maybe she's not the BEST example, but she does nicely illustrate your stereotypical teenager. That totally counts for something. PLUS she totally refused to bang the old bald guy, BIG UPS SISTER!

Pocahontas is seriously overlooked as a princess, possibly because that movie is seriously overlooked in the Disney lexicon. I mean, it came out after Lion King, which was really the LAST Disney blockbuster. Nothing could top it (especially not in my heart, I LOVE YOU SIMBA!) so when you try and teach kids about how the white man raped the lands of the natives with their lust for gold you can tell how they might have been overreaching. But Pocahontas was kickass man! She was athletic (all that canoeing, and the cliff diving! Shit son), she was attuned to nature, and she was GORGEOUS. Also, sidenote, the ONLY Disney character I've ever seen with a tattoo....who is female, I guess I should say. She also defies conventions by being part of a *shocked gasp* INTERRACIAL COUPLE! Why, nothing so scandalous has since been seen in Disney history (except, maybe, for Nemo coming from a single parent household). She was proud of who she was and was willing to protect the man she loved even at the expense of her tribe's well being. And, contrary to everything Disney believe in, THEY DON'T END UP TOGETHER. There isn't a happily ever after there is just a continuing love between two people who can no longer be together, making it surprisingly realistic. And no, the fucking shitty sequels don't count.

Finally, last but CERTAINLY not least, there is Mulan. I honestly think it's this movie that's made me more receptive to Asian culture (yes, I know they probably got most of it wrong, but STILL) particularly the beauty that exists in the landscape. Even though it's now a decaying wreck of Communist fail, no matter what the Olympics may tell you. She COMPLETELY defied convention, she joined the military (woot!), and she was responsible for the death of the most feared man in CHINA. Fucking CHINA yo! She gets completely shot down by her man then rises above it to save the nation when her heart is completely broken. That's strength.

Okay, so Disney kind of gives with one hand and then takes with the other, because in every Disney movie there has to be a happy ending or else it's just not right. The guy always gets his girl, generally by doing something heroic that takes our princess down a peg because sometimes these princes are just kind of...debatable. But these lessons clearly have stuck. Or, you know, resurfaced because Jaime and I were singing Disney songs at work. Also an option.

Gave Away To Follow Failure Through The Fire

Mood: Sleepy McGee, Crankypants Gibson. Yes, Gibson. Shut up.
Listening To: The sweet sweet sounds of the Barrowman talking about Torchwood Season 2


Alrighty folks, I'm bringing the Klosterman back in a big way. Because I have 15 more entries to go dammit, and I'ma get that shit done. Since, you know, I have time now.

Question 8:You meet the perfect person. Romantically, this person is ideal: You find them physically attractive, intellectually stimulating, consistently funny, and deeply compassionate. However, they have one quirk: This individual is obsessed with Jim Henson's gothic puppet fantasy The Dark Crystal. Beyond watching it on DVD at least once a month, he/she peppers casual conversation with Dark Crystal references, uses Dark Crystal analogies to explain everyday events, and occasionally likes to talk intensely about the film's "deeper philosophy."

Would this be enough to stop you from marrying this individual?

Answer: Probably not. It's just a movie, right? And if it got to be irritating, I could probably just start doing the same thing with Buffy or Dr. Who references. We all have our ridiculously geeky quirks :D

Question 9:

A novel titled Interior Mirror is released to mammoth commerical success (despite middling reviews). However, a curious social trend emerges: Though no one can prove a direct scientific link, it appears that almost 30 percent of the people who read this book immediately become homosexual. Many of these newfound homosexuals credit the book for helping them reach this conclusion about their orientation, despite the fact that Interior Mirror is ostensibly a crime novel with no homoerotic content (and was written by a straight man).

Would this phenomenon increase (or decrease) the likelihood of you reading this book?

Answer: Well, if I'm gay, I'm gay. If a book makes me realize this, then I really haven't been that far in denial. Besides, there's nothing wrong with being current.

I Am What I Am And What I Am Needs No Excuses

Mood: Shiteous

Listening To: Big gay music that validates me as an individual

You know what I'd like? I'd like one summer that doesn't fall to shit come August. No, seriously, every year without fail August just shits all over me and leaves me to clean up the mess. And EVERY year it has to do with a guy. WHAT THE FUCK MAN?! I'm going dyke-a-delic on your asses, fuck this noise, at least I know women are crazy.

Okay, to be fair, I should have seen this situation was coming. I was TOLD it was coming for Christ's sakes, by MULTIPLE people, INCLUDING the person I was with. I'll leave names out, not that I really care, but because anyone who actually gives a shit knows who I'm talking about, and anyone who doesn't can ask me. And if I answer you, congrats, I actually like you. The point is this: I was told that this would not be a commitment, that it would just be for the fun of it. And I said fine, I can deal with that, thinking the entire time in the back of my mind "Pssh, I can wear this guy down."

I am a fucking egotist. Seriously. Who actually fucking thinks that shit? That they can somehow change a person, that they're worth changing for? Apparently me, which is yet another reason why I should have probably been aborted.

Stop thinking that right now, I'm not going to kill myself. Drama queens.

Sex ruins things, really and truly it does. Because you start getting used to it, you start enjoying it, you find someone who, as Dan Savage puts it is GGG--good, giving and game, and you get into a little comfort zone. And of course, if you're me, you equate sex with love. Because I want both, so why not, right? Is it so wrong to ask for someone who is a)decent in bed b) relatively good looking and c)willing to actually return my feelings? Apparently it's too much to ask because this is officially the fourth time I've wasted my time wandering down this road. Only this time I actually got something out of it. Well, kind of. Once.

Okay, it's the second time I got something out of this situation, the first time is just a slightly more permanent fixture who borrows my money and is generally adorable.

Why can't I just be a heinous bitch? Like, honestly, why can't I just walk away without leaving a little piece of myself behind. Even if I fucking HATE the guy I'm with, I still leave a little bit of myself. Sometimes it's a piece that I actually don't need, that I'm happy to be without. Sometimes it's just a lot of regrets, sometimes it's a little bit of my innocence, sometimes it's a little piece of my happiness.

I think, I HOPE, anyway, that when I finally find someone who fits the aforementioned criteria I might get some of those pieces back. Not going to lie to you, people like to point out how "awesome" I am. These people are wrong. I'm not awesome. I'm fucking stupid, and sad, and just really need to get my shit together because this shit is getting to be a bit much.

But, and here's the thing that's really retarded: I'ma still be his friend. Because it's what I do. I like having friends, friends are awesome. Also, I may one day really need sex. Or a back rub. Or both. And I'll know who I can turn to, unless he's being a twat and decides to start believing in relationships again. In which case I will kill him, for I am as fearsome as my countenance is splendid.

THE END!

...Okay, not really. It's never the end. Because it takes a hell of a lot more than this shit to keep me down, and I WILL be back, with a motherfucking vengeance, just as soon as I get my friends together to help me superglue my squishy little love organ back into working order. A couple of bandaids, a staple or two, and a sixer of Woody's blueberry and I'll be right as rain.

Or hung over. Whichever :D

Either way, fear not my fellow amigos, I will do as Gloria Gaynor has said, and survive. One day I'll find someone who is willing to go the distance, willing to risk themselves a little bit and take a chance.

We'll see who has the bigger balls then.

You Can't Respect Somebody Who Kisses Your Ass, It Just Doesn't Work

Mood: Jubliant. Elated, even
Watching: Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Okay, there's been a decent break between Klostermans and today will not be the continuation (well, maybe when it isn't 230 in the morning). A LOT of shit has gone down, but that's not what this is about either (that and everyone should know what it all is anyway, and if they don't ask me in person).
No, this is about a man from Nantucket. Everyone knows the "there once was a man from Nantucket" part of the limerick, but who actually knows the rest of it? Me, that's who. Thank you Wikipedia for this insightful entry.....

There once was a man from Nantucket

Whose dick was so long he could suck it.

While wiping his chin,

He said with a grin,

"If my ear were a cunt, I could fuck it."

And there you have it folks.

Catch The Mist, Catch The Myth, Catch The Mystery, Catch The Gift

Mood: Oddly exultant
Watching: Little Britain DVD Extras!

Holy shit I've missed like three days! Alright, jumbo post today then

Question 5: You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: Every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate's collarbones with a Crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: You must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear- for the rest of your life0 sound as if it's being performed by the band Alice in Chains. When you hear CCR on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it's being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound like it's being covered by Alice in Chains. When you hear a commercial jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way to you). Would you swallow the pill?

Answer: I'd take the pill. Why would I let my soul mate suffer? Plus I like Alice in Chains :). And I'm sure if it was driving me crazy I could just track down the maker of this pill and get some kind of treatment.

Question 6: At long last, someone invents "the dream VCR." This machine allows you to tape an entire evening's worth of your own dreams, which you can then watch at your leisure. However, the inventor of the dream VCR will only allow you to use this device if you agree to a strange caveat: When you watch your dreams, you must do so with your family and your closest friends in the same room. They get to watch your dreams along with you. And if you don't agree to this, you can't use the dream VCR. Would you still do this?

Answer: Yeah, sure, why not? My dreams aren't particularly exciting, plus the number of times I have weird fucked up sex dreams is not that common. And everyone has those dreams anyway so it'd be hypocritical for someone to freak out because I have them. Silly buggers. Plus I occasionally have really cool dreams and I want to remember them in detail.

Question 7: Defying all expectation, a group of Scottish marine biologists capture a live Loch Ness Monster. In an almost unbelievable coincidence, a bear hunter in the Pacific Northwest shoots a Sasquatch in the thigh, thereby allowing zoologists to take the furry monster into captivity. There events happen on the same afternoon. That evening, the president announces he may have thyroid cancer and will undergo a biopsy later that week. You are the front-page editor of the New York Times. What do you play as the biggest story?

Answer:Well, since the president MAY have thyroid cancer it's not actually a news story, it's just supposition. But Nessie and Bigfoot actually being captured? SHIT, that's total front page news.

There's Been Times I Thought I Couldn't Last For Long But Now I Think I'm Able To Carry On

Mood: Slightly anxious with a hint of nausea
Watching: My brains slowly circle down the drain because I can't remember shit

Chuck Part 4

Question 4: Genetic engineers at Johns Hopkins University announce that they have developed a so-called "super gorilla". Though the animal cannot speak, it has a sign language lexicon of over twelve thousand words, an IQ of almost 85, and -most notably- a vague sense of self-awareness. Oddly, the creature (who weighs seven hundred pounds) becomes fascinated by football. The gorilla aspires to play the game at its highest level and quickly develops the rudimentary skills of a defensive end. ESPN analyst Tom Jackson speculates that this gorilla would be "borderline unblockable" and would likely average six sacks a game (although Jackson concedes the beast might be susceptible to counters and misdirection plays). Meanwhile, the gorilla has made it clear he would never intentionally injure any opponent. You are the commissioner of the NFL: Would you allow this gorilla to sign with the Oakland Raiders?

Answer: Hell no!
For multiple reasons.
1) This gorilla, while very intelligent for a gorilla, is pretty dumb for a person, sad but true. Like Tom Jackson hypothetically says, this monkey could be susceptible to misdirection which is a major part of football. It'd be a big guy standing in the back row who lets all the other guys run circles around him.
2) 700 pounds is a lot bigger than most football players, who tend to top out at probably 300 before they actually lose the ability to run for more than a minute each game. That monkey hits you and you are FUCKED, regardless of whether or not he intentionally meant to hurt you. The same applies on the reverse. It'd be like running into a hairy, smelly brick wall.
3) Gorillas do this thing where, when angered, they charge and trample whatever's in their way. You can't take away millenia of instinct. So piss this monkey off enough with your misdirection and, again, y'all be fucked.
4) The members of the Raiders would have to learn sign language in order for the gorilla to be able to effectively communicate. That means that if any of their opponents know sign language they can figure out what the hell they're planning, which totally defeats the purpose of having a play book.
5) The problem with being self aware is that you are aware of more complex emotions like frustration, which sucks but is part of any kind of sporting event, particularly if you're losing. No one wants a frustrated and depressed gorilla, come on now.

Sorry monkey, no dice.

My Gift Is My Song, And This One's For You

Mood: Meh. Studying, yay!
Watching: Sin City: The Hard Goodbye (holy shit, I forgot how awesome this movie was!)

Continuing the epic saga of el Chuck, one day at a time....

Question 3: Let us assume there are two boxes on a table. In one box, there is a relatively normal turtle; in the other, Adolf Hitler's skull. You have to select one of these items for your home. If you select the turtle, you can't give it away and you have to keep it alive for two years; if either of these parameters are not met, you will be fined $999 by the state. If you select Hitler's skull, you are required to display it in a semi-prominent location in your living room for the same amount of time, although you will be paid a stipend of $120 per month for doing so. Display of the skull must be apolitical. Which option do you select?

Answer: Sick fuck that I am, I'm going to have to go for Hitler's skull. Now, don't get me wrong, I think turtles are adorable and I'm sure they're relatively easy to take care of. It's the wording of the question that troubles me. What is a "relatively" normal turtle? Does this imply that something may or may not be wrong with this turtle, but that in all other matters it's normal? I don't want to get some haggard turtle that's going to croak on me due to some pre-existing turtle disease before the two years is up. Homey don't play that.
Hitler's skull on the other hand is both an entertaining conversation piece ("Oh, what's that?" "Hitler's skull." "How the fuck did you get Hitler's skull?!") and two years worth of fun. Since the skull must be displayed apolitically I can't use it to prop up a menorah or write "Die Nazi Scum" on it in permanent marker, or put a pink triangle on it or anything like that. HOWEVER, if I wanted to turn Hitler's skull into, say, a candy dish, that wouldn't be unacceptable. I'd just have to plug up the entry wound for that bullet, but the fire would probably have burned away any remaining bits of tissue (also the passing of time). I could use it as a vase, keep goldfish in there (again with some more plugging of holes), use it as a candle holder, hold readings of "Hamlet" and use it as a prop. Hitler: perpetrator of human atrocities, man of many household uses.

That and I could really use the money.

You May Think I'm Crazy, Drunk And Stoned, But I Don't Wanna Be Messed Up Alone

Mood: Sleepy McGee, as per the usual
Watching: Resident Evil:EXTINCTION. Oh Ali Larter, how your acting outside of Heroes blows....

And now, the continuing saga of the Chuck....

Question 2: Let us assume a fully grown, completely health Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that - for some reason- every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel toe boots. Would you attempt to do this?

Answer: No way in hell. Now, while the majority of my reasoning behind this has to do with that fact that that's cruelty to animals and I'm kind of against that, I do have other reasons. Those political prisoners are in prison because they willing got involved in whatever the hell it was that got them thrown into a foreign prison. They woke up in the morning and said "Fuck yeah, today's the day I go do something noble/stupid/suicidal for my countrymen." These people had the freedom to choose their fate, and probably went into it knowing full well that the consequences of their actions might be some time in a prison (or a lot of time). Now, granted, I'm sure some of these political prisoners have been kept unjustly, but that poor horse is not the reason why there's a communications breakdown between those nations particular governing bodies. That horse was just randomly plucked from some farm/racetrack/glue factory and shackled.

Granted, some of these political prisoners are in prison for insane reasons that have more to do with that country's government than anything else. But, again, that horse didn't fuck up your government. It's a horse. I'd rather put on steel toes and kick a political prisoner to death in twenty minutes to save all the other ones than that poor bastard horse.

Also, it'd take a hell of a lot more time to kick a horse to death than twenty minutes, those fuckers are BIG.

She Can Kill With A Smile, She Can Wound With Her Eyes

Mood: Sleepy yet oddly contented. Well, not contented. Mediocre, dece?
Watching: Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story (funny even though I'm half assed watching it really....)

So as anyone who knows my reading preferences knows, I kind of <3 style="">Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs I've discovered a section of 23 questions, the answers to which will prove to Chuck whether or not he can really love someone. I have taken it upon myself to answer all 23 of these questions. Luckily for you I'm doing them a day at a time so you don't have to read 18 pages of shit. ENJOY!

QUESTION 1: Let us assume you met a rudimentary magician. Let us assume he can do five simple tricks: he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, he can make a coin disappear, he can turn the ace of spades into the Joker card, and two other tricks in a similar vein. These are his only tricks and he can't learn any more; he can only do these five. HOWEVER, it turns out he's doing these five tricks with real magic. It's not an illusion; he can actually conjure the bunny our of the ether and he can move the coin through space. He's legitimately magical, but extremely limited in scope and influence. Would this person be more impressive than Albert Einstein?

ANSWER: Yes. Einstein had to spend years working on his theory of relativity that supposedly is the mathematical equation that explains our universe. This is a very impressive achievement in and of itself. However, theories can be proved wrong. This is not the FACT that explains the universe, it's just a mathematical equation that may or may not prove something in the long run. This magician, on the other hand, can actually perform feats that are unique. Now, this skill probably took many many years to learn, possibly as long as it took for Einstein to learn enough about math and physics to create E=mc2. But, as was previously stated, Einstein's theory can be proved wrong. This magician, without a doubt, can do MAGIC; he can perform feats that should be impossible, and yet can do with relative ease. Now, as to the limited range of these tricks, let us consider the things that Einstein is remembered for by the majority of the global population: crazy hair, E=mc2, the atom bomb. Two out of three things on that list are pretty damn dubious, and one thing, as I said, could hypothetically prove to be wrong entirely. This magician on the other hand is a five trick pony. That's five more magic tricks than Einstein could do. Magician for the win.

Don't Hesistate Now Honey, Or It Will All Fall Down

Mood: WAY too depressed to be studying
Considering: Flinging herself down a flight of stairs so she can avoid going to her exam tomorrow

So I've spent most of the day (about eight hours actually) procrastinating in the most ridiculous ways possible (ie lurking the blogs of people I barely even know going back like a year, watching random clip videos people made from cute moments from super gay movies, eating). I just don't want to study for my film exam, which is STUPID because I really REALLY need to study for this bitch (and Comm...fucking Comm!!!!!!!!). Now you might think that talking about film is all kinds of fun but it's not. I suck at it. I can't find meanings in a scene, I just enjoy it. I HATE TALKING ABOUT FILM! WHY DID I TAKE A FILM CLASS! ARRGGGH!

I also have this fear, this supposedly irrational and insane fear, that I'm going to become one of those people who is always ALWAYS angry. Not like certain people I work with at the theatre who are basically just cunts with anger problems, but like constantly simmering away. Which of course is a terrible terrible thing considering my family's long history of heart problems (on both sides mind you). I think I might have been born lacking the ability to control my anger, which is pretty evident if you've ever seen me angry. I'm quick to get pissed and while I can generally back it down all it takes is one little thing to set me off again. Anger is probably one of my easiest emotions to feel because a) I do it all the time and b) It doesn't seem to cost me anything when it happens. But it does cost me in the end because I'll say something stupid that winds up hurting someone I love, or I'll do something that pisses someone off and then refuse to admit I did anything wrong because, hey, still angry. I don't deal with it well, and I tend to bottle it all up inside as much as possible, which, as anyone who has done this before knows, isn't healthy and generally results in minor explosions of wrath. Generally at the worst possible times, generally in front of people who you NEVER want to see you like that. There have been MULTIPLE occasions in my life where I've actually been so angry I can't sleep, and considering how badly my mind rambles when I'm trying to fall asleep, it's about 100000000000 times worse when I'm angry. Bring on the sleeping meds man...

I think a lot of this is coming from the fact that a) I'm in a high stress situation right now (ie exams) b) Things aren't really working out for me at the moment (ie job) and c) I don't really have anyone to talk to because pretty much everyone I know is going through the same things right now. Dumping my problems on everyone else might help me, but it sure as hell doesn't help them. See, this is where boyfriends (or good ones anyway) are helpful because you can vent to them and their natural response is cuddling. Bitch needs a cuddle right about now......Kitty? Bondage Bear? Anyone?......I'm all alone, there's no one here beside meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Ah fuck it, who cares. School's done in a week REGARDLESS, fuck the theatre, fuck money, FUCK ALL THIS SHIT!

Hey, maybe anger's good for something after all...

Learn To Live Like An Animal In The Jungle Where We Play

Mood: Unnecessarily upbeat. Why? It's almost 130 in the AM
Watching: The words magically appear on my laptop screen

WOW! I NEVER UPDATE THIS SHIT!
She's bringing blogging back....*yeah*

Um, allow me to summarize the last....eight months of my life for you. Here goes *ahem*

September: Started year two of Brock. Things are looking up. Didn't die, didn't have a panic attack on the first day (fucking Spanish last year), didn't want to kill myself. Bonus! Kind of stopped talking to Brad for stupid reasons (stupid in retrospect, TOTALLY valid at the time). Tried not to rape ex boyfriend.

October: Went to a gay bar for the first time. Got REALLY REALLY drunk (not for the first time) and managed to dance it away. Imbibed an illegal substance for the first time. Went to Ottawa for the first time. Freaked out on ex-boyfriend in front of strangers after not sleeping for 25 hours and consuming a lot of liquor among other things. Went on "friendship break" with ex boyfriend. Got a new tattoo. Got retarded cold. Almost had panic attack over ridiculous essays.

November: Reacquainted with old friends. Finally got rid of retarded cold. Got lowest mark ever on a university essay (at that point in time). Got back together friend wise with ex. Learned something unfortunate that shall not be repeated regarding ex. Tried not to murder ex.

December: Got poor. Got some unfortunate news (two guesses whom it was regarding). Sucked it up and dealt, proving again I am awesome...occasionally. Had the BEST.NEW.YEARS.EVER. Learned to love High School Musical through the medium of ice skating.

January: Tried to avoid creepy guy I met at the gay bar on New Years. Started new class (yay classics!). Became slowly dissatisfied with theatre job. Still poor! Had the BEST. BIRTHDAY. EVER. thanks to her amazing AMAZING friends. Felt kind of old and tired.

February: Had an insane reading week that involved gay bar, Queen, and awkward Starbucks night. Hated Valentine's Day a little bit more. Had a spectacularly epic trip to Toronto with ex boyfriend that involved missed go trains, misplaced debit cards, and wandering around Church street in the freezing cold. Poor and lonely. Rocked out at brother's Stag and Doe and reunited with Braddums.

March: Realized that life is alright again, that her friends are amazing, and that yes, Virginia, you can be friends with your ex and not have to pine for him constantly. Brother got married the day after I got the 24 hour stomach flu. The wedding was gorgeous at least. Decided I'm leaving the theatre and tried to get a job at Sitel.

And here we are in April, ladies and gentlemen, which has so far begun with one really really awesome weekend and two really really shitty essay marks (who the fuck gets 40% on a Comm paper! This bitch apparently....). Tyler spent the weekend at my house while my parents were away on a well deserved (and entirely free! Go Dad, getting an award) cruise. We did not trash the house, thank you very much. I'm a wonderful house sitter (and my services are totally available). We had a good time, or at least I had a good time, but it all made me realize that living with someone who isn't your family is a lot different. Not that Tyler was a bad guest, he was pretty damn awesome actually, but you have to remember that just because that person lives with you doesn't mean your lives all of a sudden revolve around each other. I mean, granted, we had to kind of plan things because he was also borrowing my car, but at the same time he does have other things to do with his life. Just because I'm at home alone doesn't mean he has to run over to be there with me. Basically, what I'm saying is, I have experienced living with someone, and have decided that this is the kind of roommate I want. Someone who is down for hanging out, but who isn't in your face ALL THE TIME. I like it.

I've also decided that the theatre is pretty much gone. I still like the job but the reasons I was willing to put up with the bullshit before (ie. I like the people) is pretty much irrelevant and ridiculous. Yes, I like the people I work with, but anyone who I really like I talk to and hang out with outside of work. Everyone else is just pleasant to hang out with WHILE on the job, but I probably wouldn't talk to outside of it. Plus leaving the theatre means I can stop smelling like the inside of an asshole every time I finish for the day (REGARDLESS of where I've been working as well). So I'm trying to get a job at Sitel and so far we've been playing phone tag. I'm hoping they call me back tomorrow or the next day because I'm free all day! *psychically sends messages to people at Sitel to call her ASAP). I've decided I don't want to quit before April 26th though because I want to say I was actually there for three years. Therefore once Iron Man shows up I'm GONE baby. All I can say is it's been a slice, but y'all don't pay me for shit, I smell disgusting when I leave, and you make the poorest promotional decisions I have EVER seen.

School is almost done, and with it goes any kind of motivation I have to actually go back to school. I'm not enjoying my program, I don't know what I want to do, and I'm disturbingly far in debt. That's not to say I'm dropping out, I'm just taking a few months off to pay down the line of credit and get my thoughts in order. It's not like I'm the only person in the world whose done it either. But, and massive shout out to the people who have done this, I don't see myself going back to school after 25. I mean, when I'm 25 I'd like to at least have an end in sight, you know? I don't want to be trying to reinvent myself before I turn 30. But again, I have a disgusting amount of respect for all the amazing folks who can do that, who know what they want to do (or have a vague idea at least) and are trying to do it. I just want some satisfaction in my life NOW.

Speaking of satisfaction, lets just say that my life has become a sitcom. Only, unlike in said television standard, it's not fucking funny. At all. Well, it's a little funny, but it's only funny in retrospect. Like bellbottom jeans were only kind of cool in retrospect, or the Spice Girls only kicked ass in retrospect. I know why people generally try to separate themselves from their exes as much as possible now, but at the same time Tyler is probably my bestest friend on the face of the Earth. No lie, if he was in Botswana and gave me a call saying he was in trouble, I'd be on a plane and hooking up with a militia to save his ass. Okay, that was a)melodramatic and b) kind of racist, but STILL! I'd so do it. Only he's going off to Vancouver Film School (fingers crossed, baby) next year and I find myself thinking about what I'm going to do. Be sad, obviously, but Brad's going to Ryerson (also, fingers crossed) and Aidan's in Ottawa and I suddenly feel very alone. But not alone, because I'm discovering how intensely awesome the people I work with at Chapters really are. Regardless of the fact that for the most part there's at least a three year age gap, no one really gives a shit. We hang out and have fun and I feel included, which is lovely (thank you guys :]). So I wouldn't be starved for company. Also, I'd have more free time (which sounds horrible, but I'm kind of a solitary girl so it would be kind of nice). Maybe I'll go to the gym and get a bitchin' hot bod so when I go to BC all the stoner boys fall madly in love with me.
Who am I kidding, they totally will anyway.

Also, people, watch Torchwood. Seriously. Janto needs more love.

Peace out, my lovelies
-KK

I'm Focused But I'm Losing Control

Mood: Fan-fucking-tastic *sarcasm!*
Watching: Heroes
Contemplating: Having another drink

Wow, you know your life is kind of sad when you're drinking at 2:47 in the afternoon. Whatever, fuck this shit.
So, the whole friends thing is working out fairly well. Still have those funny little thoughts running through my head, and it's still kind of hard to tell them to shut the fuck up but I'm working on it. Whether or not this is permanent only time can tell but I'm not going to sit here and hold out for something that may never actually come. So friends. It's not like compatability's an issue anyway.

And once again it's my least favourite time of year, the dreaded back to school. I think with the fucked up structure of university it's even worse than high school or elementary school because you have to be doubly motivated to haul your ass out of bed, into the car, and go to a class where the prof doesn't know your name (unless he's your seminar leader, in which case you're one unlucky fucker) and the people around you probably don't give a shit. You sit through an hour of lecture that may or may not be important, writing endless notes about absolute shit in the vain hope that you'll remember it for the exam. Half the people in the room are either hungover, still drunk, or planning on getting that way, and no one will remember your name or face after you've moved unless they're really interested in you. You're surrounded by thousands of people but unless you live in student housing off campus or in one of the dorms you'll probably only get to know maybe three people the entire time you're in school. Even when the class sizes get smaller it doesn't necessarily mean you're going to make any friends. Sometimes I really wish I was back in high school. But then I remember that high school was for the most part shit tastic and all I'm ever going to remember is the shit I did that wasn't class related and the people I met. Banzai!

So dear sweet Aids is back in Ottawa, HOPEFULLY I'll be heading on up to see her ass in about a month or so, ex-boytoy in tow. Get shit faced in Hull, dance my pretty little ass off, maybe get some action from somewhere. It'd be nice. It'd be nice if I actually got to see people this year outside of class and work as opposed to last year when I had maybe one night off a week. I should do since Monday and Wednesday nights I'm not working and I'll have Thursdays free until Supernatural starts. Ahhhh, Winchester pie....anyway. Lets hope I can keep this shit up. Really, I only see like three people on a regular basis

Alright my lovelies, cheers to another school year. Lets hope it kicks the last one's ass.

Ta.

*insert wittily appropriate lyrics here*

Mood: Been better, could be worse.
Watching: House

So yeah, at the moment for Karen life does indeed suck. For many and various reasons, one being primarily the source of my non-happy at the moment. We, and I'm sure you all know who I mean when I say we, are taking a "break". For an indefinite amount of time. If there's one thing I hate it's indefiniteness....indefinity? Ugh, anyway. They call it a break because it's broken I guess...oh look, Karen made a funny, how terribly clever. Anyway, if anyone happens to read this and realizes that I'm feeling kind of down for the next little while, do me a favor. Don't ask me if I want to talk. I'm done talking. Talking about it won't fix it, it'll just make me feel worse about things. It's done, for the time being or, if shit continues to go this way, permanently. I hope not, and things have been left fairly well off, but shit happens. Oh well, at least we're both perfectly willing to be friends. Besides, any good relationship is based on a good friendship first. Lets hope things work out, and I'm going to just deal with things as they are now. There's no point in getting upset over it.

So, to reiterate, yes, I am sad, no, I don't want to talk about it, no I don't need a fucking hug. So cut that shit out.

Heaven Can Wait We're Only Watching The Stars

Mood: Sleepy McGee
Listening To: Temperance- Forever Young

Woot! So, went to prom last night. Two years too late, but whatever, it was a good time. Except for the fact that I got Tyler lost.....shhhh, keep it on the dl (she said as she posted it in her public access blog....). ANYWAY, we got there late and most AWKWARD SITUATION EVER wound up sitting next to Tyler's ex...and her gay date. HA! Anyway, they moved on somewhere else later so it was all good. Dinner was...alright. Maybe not like thirty bucks alright, but it was alright. Dancing was fun but dammit I am never doing it in three inch heels again, that just sucked. Went to Mickey D's after in our fucking prom outfits, which was amazing, then we drove around for a bit. All in all a pretty good night. Good times spent with awesome people. Not going to complain...except about how damn much my feet hurt.

Someone Has Shit In The Potpourri

Wow, my life is ridonkulous at the moment. I need to stop coming home at 2 in the morning every day, it's slowly killing me.
SO! Updates:

• I may have mild asthma. And I forgot to call for a doctor's appointment. Again. Shit
• Went to BINGO for the first time ever last night. Actually a good time. And it wasn't just the company ;)
• Going to prom. Two years too late, but whatever it's all good. Now what the fuck am I going to wear? *ponders*
• Got the braces off. My teeth are fabulous.
• I am fucking pale, HOLY SHIT. Must tan!
• Broke. Again. Surprised? Don't fucking be.
• COMPOUND WORD: Boyfriend.
  
• Loving the weekly sleeping at Kyle's house. Actually a highlight of my week. Y'all know how I roll, don't even.

THAT IS ALL! Make it so Number One.
That's all.

Boo, You Whore!

Gwarg, my throat hurts. It feels swollen. This isn't cool. My life is complicated. Happy! But complicated.
Stole this from Lauren. w00t.

A- Available: Not so much...it's a little complicated
A - Age: 19
A - Annoyance: My fucking throat
B - Braces: Going in....11 hours.
B - Bar: I've only ever been to Buck's....
B - Birthday?: January 7th
C - Crush: Oh Bea Arthur....
C - Car: Falling apart
C - Cat(s): Two. Evil incarnate.
D - Dead Pets Name: Taffy :(
D - Dads Name: Bob
D - Dog: Golden retriever, Maggie; Terrier mix, Taffy
E - Easiest Person To Talk To: Jesus! No, I dunno....Aidan probably
E - Eggs: No thanks, I'm full
E - Email: I'm sure it's on my profile
F - Favorite Color: Purple is pretty.
F - Food: CHICKEN AND TACOS! WHO WANTS CHICKEN AND TACOS!
F - Fruit: Pear
G - Gummy Bears or Worms: Worms
G - God: Odin
G - Good Time: Anytime I'm hanging with friends. We don't NOT have fun
H - Hair Color: Reddy-brown at the moment
H - Height: 5'4
H - Happy: Pretty damn
I - Ice Cream: Dairy Milk
I - Idol: Billy....GET IT! GET IT! Fuck off
J - Jewelry: Earrings constantly, sometimes fun ones, it all depends
J - Job: Chapters/Empire. My life is good
K - Kids: Not at the moment thanks, I'm full
K - Karate: Not since I was 5
K- Kung Fu: I'm a ninja on the weekends
L - Longest Car Ride: London--> Newcastle...it's a LONG time
L - Longest shower: 20 minutes
L - Love: Family, friends, SUPERNATURAL
M - Milk Flavor: Milk.
M - Mothers Name: Lynda
M - Movie Last Watched: Um.....The History Boys
N - Number of Siblings: Kyle, older
N - Northern or Southern: North for life! Fuck those yankees
N - Name: Karen
O - One Wish: I wouldn't mind a new car
O - One Phobia: Zoooooommmmmmbiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssss!
O - Otter: Delicious!
P - Parents, are they married or divorced: Married
P - Part of your personality you like best: My zany sense of humour
Q - Quick or Slow?: Little bit of column A, little bit of column B. I've got time for both.
R - Reason to smile: ;) He knows. Also, fluffy kitties
R - Reality TV Show: America's Next Top Model...damn you Kyle/Aidan/Brad/Tyler
R - Right or Left: Right
S - Song Last Heard: The Imperial March from Star Wars...fucking Aidan and her hockey
S - Season: of love! Fall's pretty kickass
S - Soda: Dr Pepper
T - Time you woke up: 6AM
T - Time Now: 946 PM
T - Time for bed: Much later
U - Unicorns: There's no such thing?!?!?!
U - U are: uncouth.
V - Vegetable you hate: Peas
V - Vegetable you love: BABY CORN!
V - View on Politics: Stewart/Colbert 2008!
W - Where are you going to travel next: Pick Kyle's ass up from work
W - Watchful: Sweet sweet boy love
X - X-tra special someone: ........Pete. Hehe, hehe...must stop laughing creepily at own inside jokes
Y - Year you were born: 1988
Y - Year it is now: 2007
Y - Yellow: snow. It's not recommended
Z - Zoo Animal: RED PANDA! Is it a bear, is it a marsupial, PICK A SPECIES!
Z - Zodiac: Capricorn

I Loves Me Some Pie

Grurgh...it is so a sound effect.
So, even though the bronchitis meds are well and truly done, I still have a cough. And it is a most unfortunate one because it sounds like I'm clearing my throat at you even though I am definitely not. So if perchance I'm standing behind you and you think I'm clearing my throat at you, I'm actually coughing. Unless you're being a douche, then it's definitely an angry throat clearing.
AUSSI, I ordered Runaways 4 weeks ago. Where is it? Not at my fucking house that's for damn sure! *irrational anger because clearly she's already read it*
In autre news, it took us until 1240 to close tonight! ARRRGH! *stabs certain concession workers who totally don't know who they are but definitely deserve it right in the eye*.....*but totally not the OTHER concession worker who actually did his jobs. well done. pat on the back* I hate new kids...I wish I was dead...or sleeping.
SPEAKING OF SLEEPING, I was kept up until 130 yesterday morning by the most delightful little movie. Maybe you've heard of it, maybe you haven't, The History Boys? Based on the ridiculously popular play and starring THE SAME GUYS from the play in the actual film itself (which really REALLY enhances the experience lemme tell you) it basically centers around a group of 8 boys in England who are ridiculously smart (like, frighteningly) and who all have a chance at Oxbridge (ie. Oxford or Cambridge University) and ridiculous amounts of glory. It's actually amazingly put together and made me seriously consider (until I found out how much it costs) going to a university in England. Because they're education system? Way better than ours. Like, leaps and bounds better. We make the Americans look like shit (sometimes), but damn, the British have us beat into a tasty maple flavoured pulp. Even if there is inappropriate fondling. But mmmm, British boys. ...ANYWAY, give it a go, it's worth the effort.
Also, extremely excited for HP7 release night. "Deatheater #75" is a go, repeat, "Deatheater #75 a.k.a. Cannon Fodder" is a go. Now I just need a corset. And a skirt. And a cloak. And a temporary Dark Mark tattoo....oh dear.
Supernatural is over for the next four months.... *le sigh* Oh Dean, what will I do without you? Other than get repetitive stress problems in my hand....wow, you didn't need to know that. Oh well, it's already been typed, too late to go back now.
Auf wedershen pets....no, I can't type in German. Neither can you. Shut up about it.