Every winter, I forget about mosquitoes.

Every summer, I forget about grey skies.

I made up that poem/proverb myself.

My paja and I went for a drinkie tonight and I'm still a little tipsy. But not the fun kind of tipsy. I'm apologetic-sad-regretful-just-coming-out-of-euphoria tipsy. I want to see my palbuddies again. But there are so few around. Hannah's away for a week, my brother's at a sleepover and my maja's sick, so I can't even properly hang with my family. I'm so ronery guys.

But aside from all that, eve finally posted after 10 or so days of mysterious absence. Funny how that's actually the high point of my week. I followed directions, as always, because that is what I do best and I have nothing better to do ('cept sleep and it doesn't look like that's going to happen anytime soon).

(here you go ladies and gents)

List 12 people:

1.Kesinee
2.Kylian
3.Kevin
4.Alison
5.Kathleen
6.Eve
7.Paula
8.Hannah
9.Liam
10.Joelle
11.Joel
12.Pavarotti

Q: Have you ever kissed 7?
I don't think so.
Q: What's the best memory you have of 9?
I remember when he and Scott got into a swordfight with a broom handle and a pen or something. Scott was wearing Liam's shirt and Liam was wearing a dress. It's not necessarily the BEST memory I have of him, but it was the first one that came to mind when I read the question.
Q: When's the next time you're going to see 4?
Oh goodness, I have no idea. When's the next major holiday?
Q: Is number 8 pretty?
She's an ugly toad.
Q: What was your first impression of number 10?
I remember being really hesitant to talk to her because our parents forced us together. I had this sense of dread about her because my mom introduced her as a "kid my age" and I hated "kids my age". My memory may be a bit addled; I'm sure number 8 can correct me.
Q: How did you meet 3?
I don't really remember how I formally met him. For the longest time I referred to him in my head as "that kid who everybody likes". It was during the first few weeks of Summerstock, or at least grade 12, that I learned who he was.
Q: Is 11 your best friend?
No, but he was my husband for a few seconds (it didn't work out between us).
Q: Have you seen 5 in the last month?
Certainly! We had a jolly old time.
Q: Do you think 2 has a crush on you?
Yes. Yes probably.
Q: When was the last time you saw 12?
On TV, when I was a child.
Q: Have you ever been to 1's house?
Many times. Both of them.
Q: When's the next time you'll see 10?
I don't know. I never know when I'm going to see her next.
Q: Are you really close to 3?
No. Not at all really, which is kind of sad.
Q: Have you ever been to the movies with 4?
If by "movies" you mean "at a cinema" then probably not. Though I have watched many a film on her enormous television(s).
Q: Have you ever gotten in trouble with 2?
...not that I can...remember?
Q: Would you ever go out with number 7?
I'm pretty sure she's taken...
Q: What do you and number 3 talk about the most?
We don't really "talk" about anything. We just kind of make noises at each other.
Q: Do you even know 9?
As far as I know, yes.
Q: Would you give number 12 a hug?
Totally.
Q: Are you in love with number 7?
Would you ever go out with number 7? Are you in love with number 7? I think this quiz is rigged.
Q: Do you know a secret about number 9?
He had an obsession with Napoleon when he was a kid. Oops! Sorry.
Q: Describe the relationship between number 9 and number 5.
They kind of met a few times and were in the same room together more than once.
Q: What is the best thing about your friendship with number 10?
The fact that whenever she comes back, it's like she never left. (generic but true)
Q: Have you ever danced with number 7?
Yes. More than once, in fact. I feel a relationship brewing...
Q: How long have you known number 11?
A few months maybe? I don't think he really paid any attention to me until August.
Q: Have you ever been in a fight with number 8?
I feel like I keep narrowly avoiding them.
Q: Would 2 and 4 make a good couple?
Ha ha. If it ever happened it would only be because of the Innis' Xbox 360 (just kidding Kylian!)
Q: Have you ever wanted to punch number 2 in the face?
Yes! Jeez, that kid has the world's most punchable face. (just kidding Kylian!)
Q: Has number 1 ever met your mother?
A few times, yes.
Q. How did you meet number 6?
I think through Kathleen. I sort of remember one day when there were more people in our group of friends than usual, and then that one more friend just kind of...stuck?
Q: What would happen if you put 10 and 12 in a room together?
That would actually be the best thing ever.
Q: Did you ever accidentally physically hurt number 5?
I think I did actually. I punched her pretty hard several times but she just kept laughing.
Q: What is the best memory you have with number 1?
Our best laugh ever, caught on tape.
Q: Do you live close to 7?
I don't even know where she lives.
Q: What is number 3's favorite food?
Kids.
Q: Out of your 12, which one would you say is the funniest?
Hannah's pretty funny LOOKING...
Q: Who is the most flirtatious?
Number 11.
Q: If you could change one thing about number 10, what would it be?
Her being away all the time!!!:(
Q: Say something nice about number 11.
He's got pretty eyes and he makes me laugh. I feel a relationship brewing...
Q: Which one lives the farthest away?
5, 10, or 12. It's a toss-up.
Q: Which one do you hang out with the most?
I haven't really been hanging out with anyone lately. I have a feeling it's either 1 or 9.
Q: The quietest?
Out of the 12, I'd say 4.
Q: What kind of car does number 12 have?
I'm hoping a hot air balloon.
Q: Have you traveled anywhere with number 8?
I travel everywhere with number 8.
Q: If you gave number 2 $100 dollars tonight, what would they spend it on?
Gifts for number 1!

Gracious, that took over half an hour! If you have the time, I suggest you do the same.

Comrades

I woke up this morning to something foreign. Snow! Half a centimetre of beautiful white snow. In December, no less. This is truly an event to be noted.

I was going to post yesterday about all the beautiful and marvellous things I got for Christmas, but never got around to it. I'm sure you're all terrible excited about this, so here's the comprehensive list in its entirety:

West Side Story and Footloose (in the same package)
A "temporary" burned copy of How Strange, Innocence by Explosions in the Sky
Paintings that Changed the World ('s a book!)
The Charlie Chaplin Collection (!!!!)
Veneer by Jose Gonzales
A real-live easel + box to put paint and (other) crap in.
A wicked awesome sound system to play my sounds.
A trip to an art show from my twinster (but the package it came in is really wonderful)
Here it is closed:


And opened:



I couldn't get that "lift" flap to stay open for the picture, but rest assured there was something wonderful underneath it.

Also also! My family got a working turntable! All our old LPs have been sitting down here waiting for this moment. Now is their moment to shine.

Have a happy day.

Will and Grace is congealed human suffering.

I love Dinosaur comics.

I've been coughing like a crazy person lately. Ever since I ran home there's been something wrong with my throat. Hannah's trying in vain to fix a desk drawer and I can't bring myself to tell her it's futile. I guess it's Christmas Eve tomorrow. I don't know if it's just because I'm getting older or because they oversensationalised it in October, but that old fire-warm Cristmas feeling is gone. It's just another cold, dry day in December. The lights have been up for far too long. I've accepted Christmas as a way of life. It's no longer special. The everyday infusion of eggnog and reindeer has become ordinary; I've taken it for granted. I bought easy presents for everyone, and didn't really have any fun looking for them. Christmas movies are stupid. This sounds like a lament, but it really isn't. I guess I've just grown out of that feeling, and I'll have to find a new one to replace it.

Hannah has fixed the drawer.

Oh, and before I forget, here's a Christmas present for you:
http://little-people.blogspot.com/

I check it every now and then to see what those little rascals are up to.

Have a beautiful day, and drink lots of hot cider.

Love.
>>REDCARD

Today, my brother is a man.

He shaved off his stain-stache and didn't bleed once! I'm so proud of him.

There is a dude at my workplace named Chundra (or something...that's how it's pronounced) who spends his days washing dishes in the back. But this dude is no ordinary dish washer. He is a dude with albinism! He is an albino! His hair, eyebrows and eyelashes are white as the driven snow; his skin is like a powdered baby. And his eyes...oh, his eyes are the deep blood-red of a fine Italian wine. I feel kind of racist talking about him like this--an object for the ogling. But seriously, when I first met him I was inspired with a kindergarten-like fascination. And really, he is a wonderful lad, and a great conversationalist. I love hanging round him.

I was going to write something about the kindly homeless man who comes in every so often for a coffee and hangs around until he's read everything there is to read, and the wonderful British woman who works at the perfume/lotion counter at Shopper's Drug Mart. Oh look! I already have. I think I like my work.

Scooters, vacation, fall

I realised today that I am getting fo' serious chubbsy. The freshman fifteen has set in, and I'm not even going to college. Maybe it's just the holiday season, what with all the chocolate and eggnog...speaking of which, I figure that if one pop a day translates into 10 pounds in a year, one glass of eggnog a day must translate to something like...60 pounds in a month. Man, what a wonderful drink. Who knew gulping down cream, eggs and butter would turn into a holiday tradition? It was probably invented during the dark ages when the harsh winter would kill you if you weren't fat enough. Need some insulation for those arteries.

Yesterday was a bad day. I spent 5 hours at two malls with my maja and gran-maja looking for sensible old-woman wear, plus an hour and a bit in the car trying to sleep. It was no fun, and I spent plenty of time whining like a 7-year old when I got home. I thought of updating then but I figured you wouldn't care.

Also, who would write a post about Scooters?

It's Saturday...

So why isn't anyone updating? Geez...like you have anything better to do?

Sorry lads and ladies. I had a double espresso today and I feel like a superhero. I almost asked some dude out on a whim and screamed in the street I was so happy. Caffeine is a wonderfully dangerous drug.

Treat yourself to a hot drink tonight. You deserve it.

LOVE.

REDCARD>>>

Babies probably feel pain: study

Thanks, Yahoo news, for clearing that up.

Last night I dreamed that Jim had cast me as the lead male role in Footloose and I had to go through all the pains of being transgendered. Afraid of abandonment, afraid to tell my family and friends, afraid for the future, afraid of what people would think of me...I woke up feeling guilty because of the way I treated the one transgendered person in my life. I was pretty hostile and denied it for as long as I could. I didn't like the girl he'd become. She was too confident; too comfortable. I missed the shy, fidgety old man who crossed his legs tightly and spoke as quietly and gently as possible. I wondered about his wife and kids. I wondered why he would put himself in such a compromising position. I guess I'd never really thought about the suffering of living your life in the wrong body, or the struggle of working to change that. It would take a lot of courage to do what he did, and I feel guilty for not acknowledging that.

In other news, the final scene of yesterday's ER sucked beyond belief. For the few noble souls who don't watch ER, let me transcribe it as best as my addled memory allows:

Dr. Morris is standing outside in a santa suit berating himself for not "fondling" the girl of his dreams.

Morris: ...THERE IS NO FRIGGIN' SANTA CLAUS!!!

Suddenly the faint sound of sleighbells permeates the air. A "ho ho ho" sounds in the distance. Dr. Morris turns around and looks up with an expression of childlike awe and wonder. The show ends. I drink a gallon of bleach.

I never really felt safe saying it before, but I think ER is losing what it once had.

I don't like heavy metal...

but their illustrations are AWESOME.

I went to ACAD again for a portfolio review so I could get into extended studies. Turns out the dude doing the reviewing was the same dude who waived my portfolio requirement earlier. Gee whiz, what are the odds? He said that because of my waived portfolio, I have the power to take any class I want. The world is my oyster, and I'm not afraid of food poisoning. Walking around campus, I realised how beautiful art students are. Ordinarily, I don't make a habit of staring at people, but everyone there was so mind-bogglingly lovely that it was hard to resist. It was like walking through a field of the world's most strange and wonderful flowers, only instead of flowers, they're models and okay wait this analogy's no good.

Today was the day of transit mothers. I must have seen at least 5 on my way home. They make me glad because they remind me of being small (and by small I mean 7) and getting my first taste of downtown independence. I would stand on buses and sit backwards on the C-Train because for me, it was magical. A rare opportunity to do everything you could never do in the car. I loved walking around and smelling the smoke of used cigarettes and broken-down cars. I loved looking up at the high-rise buildings and watching people commute between them on glass bridges. I loved downtown coffee shops that only lasted a year, where they cooled down your cappuccino with soft ice cream. And the library. Oh, the library with its rows and rows of "Young Adult" books that I could only dream of reading. The library, with its stacks of wonderful videos and computers that knew where everything was. I miss loving downtown.

Cats and bastards

The cat is sitting on the printer and driving me nuts. If I don't pay attention to his wailing
he'll come by and sock me in the face. He's tried a couple of times.Now he's in fron t of the keeyboard and it's kind of hard to type with one hand. Friggin' cat.

I realised today that I have a pretty high bastard tolerance (sorry dudes, it slipped). I don't mind having converations with jerks and many a time, I've convinced them we're friends. I remember when Mark Schulz fancied himself my pal when I met him again in crazy school. It wasn't that I was particularly nice to him--when he asked me if I hated him I replied with a long silence--I just didn't get defensive when he said something terrible. I was okay with being a doormat and for him, I guess, that was a good quality in a friend. What a contemptible kid.

What I can't stand is clinginess, which is kind of sad. Clingy people are usually a lot kinder than jerks. I think that's why I suck at talking to my pals in Summerstock. I don't want to be thought of as "clingy".

Man, what a bad update.

If only icebergs were cities

Hannah's upstairs watching a movie called "My Beautiful Laundrette", which looks like it's about a secret bromosexual relationship but probably isn't because it was made in the 80s.

The computer's doing something crazy where when you minimise something it disappears altogether. There's a Word document, an internet window, and iTunes hiding somewhere on my computer and I can't find them for the life of me. I'll give cash money to anyone who does.

I want to talk to old people and find out what they were like in their 20s. I'm tired of belittling people of my grandparents' generation.

My braja and I had a long and in-depth conversation about manboobs. If Jason comes back to Summerstock, I think I'll call him Bosoms.

I felt obligated to update today even though there's nothing to say.

They don't pronounce D's in New Brunswick

There's a guy I work with named Peter who, from his shoes to his chin, looks just like Liam. From then on he looks like Eric Adamuik (you know, Allana's boyfriend). Which makes it kind of confusing for me, because I've developed the habit of not looking at people's faces. It gets in the way sometimes.

I've also noticed that there are a lot of ESL kids working in the kitchen. And by kids I mean people over 40 who were probably surgeons or movie stars before they moved to Calgary. I don't know why I used the word "kids" there. It was the wrong word to use. Anyway, I thought I'd tell you because Ryan likes teaching them tongue twisters in his spare time (all the time), which gives me a constant reminder of vocal warmups before performances. It's a kind of warm depression that follows me everywhere I go. I miss West Side Story.

My brother/mother/father is watching a British sitcom upstairs and it's distracting.

Update! The "British sitcom" is actually the Beverly Hillbillies. And that's the end of that chapter.

On the way home from work I was presented with an inner struggle. There's a KFC nearby, and every time I pass it on the bus, I crave it. But whenever I have the opportunity to go inside, I remember that I really don't like KFC, and it would be better in the long run to avoid it. Today, I ignored the little voice in my head warning me of impending disappointment, and picked up some eats. Needless to say, I learned my lesson. The chicken was like flour at the best of times and the fries tasted like drywall and crisco. I don't know if they've changed their recipe or if I'm just getting cynical, but this was not the warm golden KFC of my childhood. I should really stop trying to give fast food a chance.
While I was gnawing on the buttery soft bones of my chicken, a guy came loping in. He looked pretty young, probably a college student, and was flaming drunk. At 2 pm. He started yelling at the cashier ("Now you lissena me", etc.), then put his hands on the janitor's shoulders and said "no one should go home hungry". He stumbled out the door and left without ordering. It was a great moment in human history.

Somebody just called me and asked for Shawna. I guess mine is a popular number.

On the way home, the air actually smelled like someone was frying goats in it. All my life I've wondered what that would smell like. Now I know.

What can 4 dollars buy you these days?

My 4 dollars bought me a trip to the hospital when I swallowed them.

I had my first shift at Good Earth today, and guess who else works there? Summerstock's own Ryan Bulmer! We probably talked for less than 3 seconds total. In fact, I think I can transcribe our whole conversation here.

Ryan: Heyyy, Summerstock.
Me: Dude holy crap.

(silence)

I really hate ignoring people I sort-of know, but it seems to be what I do best.

There's also a girl there who sounds Spanish but she makes coffee like an Italian. She's very particular about everything espresso, and I think she hates me because I'm sloppy.

On the upside, I get to have delicious Good Earth scones for lunch every day, all at half price!

And that's pretty much it.