stories of loss

i don't know if it's true, and i probably will never undertake the research to prove or disprove it, but it feels like i've had more than my share of loss over my lifetime. and i'm not talking about keys, because i know i would probably win that contest for sure, but about things that are less tangible: friends. beliefs. convictions. loved ones.

last week, i sustained another huge loss. however, the background story is important in understanding this loss, and not many people know it. but when i wake up in the morning and think of this person and the people who are mourning her, i am always taken back to a time eight and a half years ago when we first met. so if you're able, come along for the ride.

late february, 1999: i am in delhi, india, with sweat running down the back of my legs, and tears running down my cheeks in dusty rivulets. i am living with an old anglo-indian woman in a tiny asbestos-tiled room off of her living room, which has been arranged for me by a kind woman at the centre for kids with autism, where i am volunteering. an excitable newscaster on tv is delivering the news in hindi, which sounds as though it is a made-up language. i can hardly believe that a language that sounds so little like english is understood by everyone but me.

i know that this is where i want to be, where i have chosen to come and volunteer, where i must be for at least six months (or else i will lose face in front of my family and friends! and what about the expensive indian visa and plane ticket and immunizations?) but i feel so isolated, so singular, so different and alone. each day i awaken, plug in the heating coil to place in my bucket of water for my bath, nod and smile at the young servant girl (who makes me very nervous with her toothy grin and quick, erratic movement in the kitchen) while i guiltily eat my breakfast of sliced bananas topped with curd and the big-crystalled sugar that i've come to like so much. when i am dressed and armed with my extra stick of deodorant (which i will need later in the day, when the temperature soars to 48 degrees), i negotiate my way through throngs of cows, street sweepers, vegetable vendors, begging children, and professionally-dressed indians to flag down an autorickshaw driver, who inevitably charges me triple the amount i should pay, laughs at me, or takes me the scenic route to the centre. often, he does all three.

i am the only non-indian in the place i volunteer, which is what attracted me in the first place. i didn't want a 'sanitized' experience...i wanted the real thing. i wanted it to be hard and challenging and different than anything i could experience in canada. i wanted to know what it felt like to be the only one who is something - foreign, white, not brown, canadian, etc. now that i am here, i am desperate to see another white face, to hear canadian english spoken, to have something in common. to not be so white and so different. the shame i feel as a result is thick, hot, and oppressive, much like the incessant heat.

everyone speaks english, so language is not at all a problem. further, the women with whom i work are really great - half of them are christian, and the other half hindus - and because the centre is small, they are quite close-knit. they welcome me, and in the beginning, defer to me as 'the expert' on kids with autism. i realize (more quickly than they do) that this is absolutely not true; that in fact they have more expertise on autism than i ever will.

sometimes, in between supervising the kids' playtimes, lunches, and completing observation reports as they are being tutored by the centre's staff, i excuse myself and go to a hot, dusty, empty room and cry. i haven't had a hug in what feels like weeks, and although everyone is kind, and inquisitive, and caring...there is still a division. i am 'other.' even though there is no language barrier, there is definitely a communication barrier. it is not entirely safe for us to tease and make jokes with each other, because we haven't sussed out who we're dealing with. i feel inadequate, like i'm a huge disappointment, because i don't have the knowledge and experience they expected of me. i am the furthest i can possibly be from all the people who love me, and my schedule is such that the 11.5 hour time difference makes it hard to connect by the phone, and the frequent electrical blackouts and the lack of internet cafes and their distance from 'home' means that my email use is limited. never mind the prohibitive expense of international communication, the fact that my landlord doesn't have outgoing long-distance (this is very common in india - in fact, you usually have to go to an 'STD/ISD' booth, and no, don't be funny, you don't need a condom to use them) or an internet connection, and the fact that i am so overwhelmed by the sheer number of human and animal bodies that i would rather sit in my sticky, hot room and hope that my parents and best friends have suddenly become able to read my mind from halfway across the world...

so i am laying under a mosquito net in my room, trying to cry as quietly as i can, with rivers of salt coursing down various parts of my body. it is not hard to feel those feelings again, today, as i write this...and i want to remember them, to honour them, to validate them. (i have a different perspective now on those first few weeks in india, both because i survived it, and because i think it was an instructive experience on what newcomers to our country must feel like. it was a lesson in compassion that i wanted, and needed, to learn, and i am grateful for that.)

* i will continue this post soon, starting from march of 1999. it's interesting how this is taking shape...i really didn't think i had so much to say. but i am going with it. so stay tuned!

WW III is coming

...or at least it sounds like it from below us. although we no longer have to put up with the antics of the slug, we have new housemates who are gamers. and not just gamers, but avid gamers. like gaming-in-any-spare-moment gamers, which roughly translates to about eight hours a day, usually from about 3 pm to midnight. and they often play different games, too (in the same room). one on the computer, one on the xbox 360, both with their volume cranked to levels that make our floors shake and sends our cat to hide in the drawer that houses our skivvies. yup, it's that bad.

of course, their games of choice are RP (role-play) games where they, inevitably, have to blow things up, fly airplanes, and use most of their vast arsenal of weapons (which we guess ranges from handguns to uzis to cannons) to save the world. typically, their virtual survival is punctuated by screaming, yelling, howling, cheering, and sometimes, top-volume expletives that would make ozzy osborne blush.

we can't figure out which is worse - the slug, or the gamers. the slug is definitely winning in grossness, but general annoyance? it's a toss-up.

i'm too old for this shit.

Childhood Cancer Awareness

as some of you may know, over the past year, i have connected with a number of families with an unsettling common denominator: their kids have cancer. from neuroblastoma to leukemia, from hepatoblastoma to wilm's tumours...their families call their sons and daughters 'warriors,' and i have to agree. these kids are stronger than i think i ever could be.

lots of people think i'm a total nut for reading through these blogs; for developing relationships with families i may never meet in person, for caring about kids who are really, really sick (some of whom are terminal), and for 'subjecting' myself to 'unnecessary' sadness. but i can't explain it - that it's not just about grief and loss and hopelessness. that stories of beauty, strength, and resilience; of community, belonging, grace, joy, and simple pleasures abound. there are lessons to be learned, and i feel compelled to soak them in.

mine wasn't an intentional foray into pediatric cancer...my connections to and losses from cancers have been related to adults in my life. i don't remember exactly how it happened, but i stumbled onto one blog, which linked me to another, and to another. i am showing this video this month because it is pediatric cancer month, and because some of the kids i follow are featured in this video. is just one of the little ways i can help to raise awareness of cancer - which affects people of all ages, all socioeconomic brackets, all races, religions, and ethnicities, and all abilities. i can assure you, however, that regardless of whether i 'know' them or not, all of the kids in this video have lessons in acceptance, in faith, in playfulness and bravery, to share with each of us. take a few minutes to school yerselves!

so i'm irregular

not in that way, mind you. i'm all good on that front (or should it be 'behind'?)

anyway.

so, i've been MIA for a couple months now, and let's just say i've been processing. lots has gone on. you know, like the fact that i've gotten married (in nova scotia), eaten copious amounts of seafood, made all kinds of beautiful and artistic temperature charts, gone on a group honeymoon with some of our single friends (in cape breton & PEI), seen my first six moose (all on one day, off the cabot trail!!), flipped through bazillions of sperm donor profiles (yay canam cryo!), started on fertility drugs (serophene - which, as the drug companies predicted, does make me headachy, clumsy, sweaty, psycho and bloated), started singing in the choir again, and most recently, began year 2 of 4 years of school for midwifery. yesterday, i attended my first pharmacology class, headed by the creepy prof who hits incessantly on midwifery students (we had him last year for anatomy, too). he even has a facebook group dedicated to his lech-like ways. if i figure out how not to get arrested, i'll try to find a way to link all of you to his site.

but really, this summer has seemed a blur. there have been gowns, feuds, make-ups (and make-up - i actually wore make-up!!), there have been hairdos and rainstorms and lobster-gorging, there have been copious amounts of tears shed - some happy, but many borne of frustration, anger, hurt, and grief - and i'm just talking about the wedding here!! - but i can't forget the moments of bliss, as there have been those, too. it has all felt a little...busy. i'll get back to you once i've processed how i'm feeling. it's coming.

i feel like now, it's time for reflection, only there IS no time for reflection...it's time, instead, for cleaning my disastrous house. and doing laundry, cuddling the cat, freezing batches of soups and stews for the stressful winter months, scrimping together the cash to buy $2000 of textbooks (seriously.) and of course, memorizing drug cards for the 'midwifery pharmacopoeia' (that's fancy for 'drugs that midwives can prescribe,' but our prof says the former and therefore i shall, too), paired with figuring out how i can appeal canada student loans' decision to give me $148 for the whole year...yay for the canadian government. they allow us to get married, now, but then they make it as difficult as possible for us to create a life together.

i have to say, though, i think her cuteness will get us through it. :)

so, yeah. i will be back. but as aforementioned...irregularly.

i told ya once, i told ya twice, and i re-told ya again

okay so here's the thing - i'm a word junkie. in fact, i consume words like...well, like i consume chips when i'm PMSing: desperately, obsessively, and without pause.

now there's a lovely visual to put out into the blogosphere.

in any case, there is a word that has stumped me for years. years, i tell you! and it is this one: reiteration.

here's why i don't get it. 'iteration' means repetition - for example, i am now iterating why the english language is so ridiculous, and was obviously created by some white dude with a goal to make it the most difficult language to learn for non-native speakers. 'reiteration' means to repeat over and over again - basically, to re-repeat. what the fuckity-fuck - is this not overly redundant?

(heh heh)

anyway. seriously. i'm glad english is my first language, only because i didn't have to learn it, word by word, counterintuitive sentence by confusing sentence, irregular verb by stinkin' verb.

okay children, all together now:
i iterate
you iterate
he iterates
she repeatedly iterates (a.k.a. reiterates...)

an untrendy trend

so, i'm pretty sure i'm 'off' sleep. or i need to re-master my sleeping skills. we just got a new bed, and it's pretty sweet, so it's not that. i'm out of ideas about the how and the why of it, but i am stark raving tired.

tonight, after doing a couple hours of editing for this summer contract i've scored, i initiated my usual nighttime routine: brush teeth, wash face, down three shots of rum, feed cat, drink water, feed fish, kiss cat (x 143), read library book, kiss soft forehead of my sleeping b...you know, the usual...yet for the umpteenth night in a row, the sweet unconsciousness of sleep evades me. reluctantly, i have to admit there might be a no-sleeping trend in my midst.

my mind is catapulting around, and i can hear the blood rushing through my arteries at a very lively, awake pace. bah. i tried a few of the tricks that often work: picturing slumbering babies, counting to 30 in as many languages as i can (about five), practicing choir music in my head to the rhythm of my heart...and none are working. my body is aching to rest but my mind has other plans. so, i am going to try a virtual headstand to empty out some of the stuff rattling around up there. i'm warning you, it's pretty random. you might need to be sleep-deprived yourself for it to make sense.

one of the things i've been pondering lately relates to intentionality - that is, our intentions with others, as well as our intentions with ourselves. in speaking with a number of people about this, it is interesting to realize how differently we all see intention. what is particularly mind-boggling to a control-freak such as myself is that sometimes, what we mean can be entirely irrelevant to how it is experienced by someone else.

okay so check out this conflict-resolution scene: one person feels hurt by someone else, and attempts to share how they are feeling. in response, the hurter says to the hurtee, 'that is not what i meant at all' or, even better, 'i didn't mean to.' (there are extra annoyance-points to be awarded if this is followed by, in a petulant voice, 'you know that i would never hurt you on purpose!'). now, as far as i'm concerned (especially when i'm the person who is feeling all ouchie inside), how it was intended is kinda extraneous. my response would probably be something like, 'okay, that's nice, but here's the thing: hurt is how i'm feeling right now.' (it is important to note that at this point, the four year old inside of me is also screaming, 'you're not the boss of how i get to feel!!')

i don't know if there's something iffy about my my orientation in the world...but i walk around feeling pretty positive about the human race - particularly those members with whom i associate regularly. i try to surround myself with good people - the kind who are generous and caring and kind. a heterogeneous bunch, who screw up fairly regularly (so i don't feel so alone), and who are down-to-earth and fun. the kind of people - and this is key - who don't go around hurting others on purpose. so frankly, hearing the words 'i didn't mean/intend to hurt you' from any of these people is redundant. see, the thing is, that's why they're in my life in the first place - cuz they don't walk around hurting people on purpose. so being told that again doesn't for a moment take away the lump in my throat, the wetness on my cheeks, or the ache in my heart.

there's something else, though, that kinda begs to accompany my above paragraph. i strongly believe that we - all of us - need to understand that what we put out in the world, regardless of how we intend it, is up for intepretation. we don't get to be the bosses of other people's experiences...once the words have left our mouths, once the action has been initiated, it's kind of out of our hands. cuz we are all - inherently, beautifully, epically - flawed. and we will hurt other people in our quest to exist, possibly on a daily basis. do we mean to? hopefully not. will we anyway? you betcha.

now, i never want to be that gal who criticizes something and then offers no ideas on how to approach it differently. so, other than what has already been suggested, i have thought about an appendage to the reflexive response of 'i didn't mean to hurt you', and it goes something like this: but i can see how you'd feel that way. wow. immediately, it feels like you're listening. we both know you didn't mean to, but you did. i can see how you'd feel that. hallelujah! and no apology is necessary (cuz don't get me started on apologies. that's another night, another headstand).

so for those of you like me - does this resonate with you? or are you a person whose hurt feelings dissipate upon hearing the hurter's intention? (and if so, how do you do that?!)

only one

i found this meme over here today, and thought i'd give it a try. anything to distract me from transcribing interviews from mothers with angry daughters (my current project, for which my b is my boss).

basically, you have to respond to each question in one word. and trust me, this is quite the challenge for ms. hyphenating-everything pants. particularly because AmandaD used some of my favourite, most-often used words as her responses, and, well, you know how much i hate repetition and non-uniqueness...

1. Where is your cell phone? table
2. Relationship? lifelong
3. Your hair? streaky
4. Work? insufficient
5. Your sister? unborn
6. Your favourite thing? twilight
7. Your dream last night? twisted
8. Your favourite drink? perrier
9. * Your dream car? subaru
10. The room you're in? stuffy
11. Your shoes? closeted
12. Your fears? numerous
13. What do you want to be in 10 years? peaceful
14. Who did you hang out with this weekend? bedelia
15. What are you not good at? physiology
16. Muffin? cookie!
17. One of your wish list items? barbeque
18. Where you grew up? winnipeg
19. Last thing you did? exhaled
20. What are you wearing? deodorant
21. What aren't you wearing? bra
22. Your pet? purring
23. Your computer? imperative
24. Your life? expansive
25. Your mood? heightened
26. Missing? innocence
27. What are you thinking about right now? wedding
28. Your car? saturn
29. Your kitchen? disgusting
30. Your summer? packed
31. Your favourite colour? ocean
32. Last time you laughed? minutes
33. Last time you cried? tuesday
34. School? hiatus!
35. Love? always

* i can't help it - it's true!

so, give it a go. i promise, it's not as easy as you look, capturing yourself in stark, single words for all to ponder...

not as funny as the first one, but...

...still watch-worthy.

check it out.

exploitation: verbatim

her, worriedly peering into the newly-established fish tank: "do you think there are too many bubbles for this tank? i'm worried that it's too chaotic for them in there!"

me, rolling my eyes at her neuroticism, which now, apparently, extends to our fish: "i think they're fine. if you're so worried, though, just change the bubbler thing..."

her: "well, can you help me?"

me, hobbling (as a result of a fresh football injury to my groin) to the bathroom: "help you? what do you need help with?"

her: "well, putting it in there."

me, peeing, yelling incredulously over the bathroom fan: "you don't need two people for that! you just reach in there and change the tube-y thing, i've done it about four times today alone!"

her, muffled: "i just don't want them to nibble my hand..."

me: "what? are you serious?!" (starts to giggle)

her, tersely: "shut up, b!"

me, hobbling back out to check if she's for real (and she is): "they don't even have teeth!"

her, doubtfully, eyeing 'the guys' (our fish, in plural): "how do you know that?"

me, snickering: "i'm pretty sure guppies don't have teeth..." (as i proceed to watch her haul up the bubbler thing by the tube so her hand doesn't touch the water) "oh my god, you're serious..." (dissolving into laughter that sounds strangely like a smoker's cough, complete with whistling exhalations)

her, fiercely, while nervously watching the opposite side of the tank where the fish have congregated: "shut up, b...! okay, where are the guysOHGOD!!" (jumping backwards, yelling at our yellow guppy) "a-lice!! get lost! why is she over here? she's supposed to be afraid of ME!!"

me: clutching my stomach and making squeaking sounds

her, angrily, eyes flitting at warp-speed between submerged hand and 'the guys': "shut UP, b!"

me: shaking in near-silent mirth with tears running down my cheeks

her, panicked: "why are they not staying OVER there?!"

me, gasping: "i...am....so...going..........to blog this!"

her: squealing as lincoln (the molly) crosses into her half of the tank

me, trying to catch my breath: "come on...are you serious here?"

her, pleadingly: "stop making fun of me and help me!"

me: doubled over again

her, desperately, doing a real hack-job of sinking a bubbling wand to the bottom while trying not to put her hands in the water: "come on! i need some help!!"

me: useless

her, on the brink of hysteria: "you think this is reaaallly funny, don't you?!" (to our blue guppy): "come ON, che, get away from here!!!"

...and on it went. ten minutes later, here i sit with a throbbing groin, rivulets of salt down my cheeks and a sore gut from laughing, when i hear:

"are you blogging in there, b?"

"yup!"

(quietly resentful): "smartass..."

so you don't like the heavy stuff, huh?

all righty then, then i present you with some random, pointless information! :) this is one of those memes that is circulating right now...i just looked for shits n' giggles, but some of the stuff that came up was strangely prophetic and adept...so i thought i'd share it with you.


basically, you click your way to google and then type a search for "[your name] needs" and see the top x things (i'm choosing 15) that come up. then, you share them. ta-dah!!

FIFTEEN THINGS I NEED

(according to google, that is)

KD needs...

1. "...to know exactly what time she is to be doing something and exactly how it is to be done." (uncanny!)
2. "...to get out of the house more." (i knew it. google has spies!!)
3. "...this type of concrete feedback to grasp her own progress." (i wish there were an example of what type of feedback it was that i needed...i need to know *exactly* what is meant by that, pronto!)
4. "...to be patient." (ouch-ah!)
5. "...a schedule." (i will agree, on the condition you pronounce it sked-jule and not shed-jule)
6. "...help again!" (again?! more like 'still.')
7. "...to vent." (i am assuming they mean vent my issues, and not my armpits. i have been showering regularly, after all...)
8. "...some serious prayer for health and personal problems surrounding her life right now." (wellll...who doesn't have health and personal problems? at this point, i'd request that you save those prayers, though...they make me a l'il bit nervous...)
9. "...a big hug." (very true. from someone providing concrete feedback, preferably)
10. "...match the content of any story." (wha?)
11. "...quiet." (seeeriously! i could use about 3 servings more o' quiet per day!)
12. "...constant antibiotics to stay healthy." (listen, when people keep wanting to pray for your venting problems...you do what you have to do!)
13. "...to spend less time on the computer and more time doing some weight training or something." (google. totally. has. spies.)
14. "...to get busy and model a few for us." (a few what? g-strings? ankle bracelets? beer bongs?)
15. "...something good!" (yeah. like my ego back from under the google-spy's shoes.)

what happens to clean laundry at our house...

deep as a puddle? not i, madam...

i have been told that i think too much (or too hard, or too deeply, or too fill-in-your-favourite-word-of-excess-here). though i personally would prefer to err on the side of being thoughtful, people often make this comment to me with a tone approximating disdain, accompanied by much sighing and eye-rolling. well, put your exasperation aside, folks, cuz i just can't help it. as much as i like quacking to my favourite songs, i am not much like a duck at all (this being a reference to the whole water-rolling-off-my-back thing).

lately, i have been plagued by a sense of loss. there have been tangible losses, such as the loss of my beloved nephew-dog, and there are a couple of others that i don't even know how to write about yet. but there have been other, more illusive losses that unfurl themselves in my stomach, with slow but sharp tendrils prickling behind my eyelids and making my heart ache. these are the ones that are the most unsettling. these are the losses that have caught me unawares.

it sounds kind of dramatic, but my sense of being in the world has shifted. i have come to some very uncomfortable, painful conclusions about myself and my interactions with others, and they are not things i can control, or change...or forget about. these conclusions are like the hushed, reverent voices of a hundred little lamas in my ears, and they have been whispering 24/7 over the past three weeks.

i can assure you i am not cracking up...i've already been there, done that, and trust me, this isn't what it looks like - for me, anyway. after 13 years of battling, denying, and finally accepting my life with a diagnosis of major depression, i am quite familiar with the 'landscape of my madness.' but this...this constant feeling of emotional indigestion is almost more painful, both because i am facing a difficult truth, and then because it is one that people have pointed out to me all my life (which, in kd-land, means that i have been compelled to resist it!!). damn, i hate when people know me better than i know myself.

~~~~~~~

however: something wonderful has happened as a result, and i'm pretttttty sure you're going to think i'm really off my rocker when i tell you what it is. i can't describe it how it feels, other than it's like a dam has been broken somewhere inside of me...and i now have this new superpower (it truly feels that way!) that enables me to cry like a normal person. that is to say, i can cry more openly, and most exciting - i can cry when i feel like crying. it's crazy. these days, when i feel sad, or happy, or when something has touched me, i can tear up with the best of them. i'm on the top of the world, i tell you.

don't get me wrong, i'm a gal that does my fair share of boo-hooing, but my crying has always been hush-hush, a covert activity that i undertake privately and usually alone. somewhere along the line, i perfected the art of deferring crying from when i felt like it, to a time when i was hidden away from everyone else. it became an almost academic undertaking, whereby i replaced feeling with thinking - mostly thoughts about how i absolutely couldn't and shouldn't cry. (note: here again, hypocrisy abounds. i have none of the judgmental and punitive feelings about other people crying. just myself.) indeed, i have yearned for years to cry when i felt like crying - years, i tell you!! - and i have saluted, envied, and prayed for all you normal people to write cognitive-behavioural books so i could try training myself to cry or something...but alas, somehow i have figured it out, when i least expected it. and it is divine.

so, yeah. i know i am on the upswing. sometimes it just has to be bad awhile for it to get good, right?

AWOL

yeah, i know. i'm really inconsistent with this whole blog-writing thing. i don't know what to say, except that lately, there has been SO MUCH to say that i've been immobilized. silenced. for once, quiet (at least here. i'm rarely quiet this long in real life).

not that i flatter myself that you're all waiting with bated breath for my brilliant entries, but i know how irritated i can get when i check people's blogs, and they don't write for weeks on end. i know. i'm a hypocrite. i'll write it out 100 times on my little ikea blackboard in the kitchen, i promise. plus, i'll drink my morning merlot from this mug for like, the entire month of july.

anyway, somehow i've found my voice and enough focus to sit down and write, mainly so you can breathe easier. prepare yourself - it's all a-comin' down tonight...

for those left behind

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

empty-headed

this is all i'm really capable of today. i was desperate and borrowed it from here:

SOUP TO NUTS

1. Are you a fan of soup?
why yes, yes i am. i could probably eat soup every day.

2. What is your favorite kind of soup?
hmm. that's tough. my baba made a wicked chicken noodle soup that far surpassed any chicken soup i can recall, but i have to rely on retrospective memory, as she passed away 15 years ago. a close second would be my mom's borscht.

3. Are you a fan of nuts?
yes - particularly of the human variety.

4. What is your favorite kind of nut or dish containing nuts?
to eat raw, i think i'd have to say almonds. but i just might choose a cool scoop of pralines n' cream...though really, any nut with sugar is a sweet deal.

5. If you had to eliminate either soup or nuts from your diet for the rest of your life, which would you choose?
definitely nuts - but only of the edible kind. human nuts are always invited to stay.

oh. ma. god.

i didn't know there was a blog about grey's anatomy...but there is. and shonda rhimes writes on it! and they talk about their decisions for plot things, like the whole izzy and george sex thing. i've been trying to boycott grey's since that episode, but i just...can't...do it, captain! it's too good!!! and i know that makes me pathetic (never mind the serious procrastinating that is going on - hello, remember my exam tomorrow, and how i have only reviewed 2/19 lectures?!) but i can't help it, is the thing.

i'm addicted to grey's anatomy.

and i will find a 12-step group for it, too, once i get the pencil surgically removed from my left orbis ocularis.

it's official, folks

it is with great joy that i annouce that as of 22 hundred hours and seven minutes last night, we received notification that the slug is indeed moving out on july 1st.

the delight we feel is only outweighed by the fear that the entire house may need an exterminator to rid it of residual slugliness.

and there are some concerns...i mean, how will our guests find us, without the trail of slime up the mountain to guide them? will our neighbours miss the pornographic bass-line that nearly constantly eminated from our basement? will i never hear the opening to 'superman' in mind-blowing surround sound again?

no one's tryin' to make me go to rehab, so don't worry

so i took advantage of some of the new features on blogger, but there seems to be a bit of a fault with the music honour roll thingy. when i typed in 'amy winehouse' (the artist to whom i would like to draw your attention), blogger linked to only one of her songs and its million versions, entitled, 'rehab.' while true that i love this song, there are other amy winehouse songs that i love. so don't get your knickers in a knot. i don't need to go to rehab.

now excuse me while i get back to my morning merlot.

almost unmentionable...

...cuz it's so exciting. the slug might be moving out!!!!!! wahoo!

d'ya think pelvis in plural would be pelvi?

so here it is: my friend j told me that she was tired of reading my 'anatomically corrrrrrrect' post and that i should hop on writing a new entry. however, just to be clear, this is not the reason i am writing a new entry (cuz she's not the boss of ME). i am writing because i want to. because it's about that time.

exam time.

and frankly, i gots better things to do in my life than study. like blog. (yo peanut gallery - ssshhhht! i had better things to do over the past two months, too...)

so....i wrote my anatomy exam this past thursday, and i am ridiculously relieved. in preparation for the big 8:30 am event, i pulled a geriatric all-nighter on wednesday night - a term i coined to refer to an all-nighter with a nap in the middle. y'know, for all of us supah-old-almost-31-year-olds. i also invited another student midwife and friend, L, to keep me from going entirely insane. and with the assistance of coke, chocolate, tandoori doritos, and lots of knee-slapping jokes (which i won't repeat here, cuz our anatomical word wizardry would certainly be beyond you) we were able to stave off our nap until 4 am.

i set my alarm for 6 am in order to re-review respiration, urine production, and the innervation of the penis (what kind of morning starts out like that?!), we drank some scary-ass potent coffee, and we were at school by 7:45 am. but the exam was not the highlight of the day - no, no, no. that honour is bestowed to another fellow midwife-to-be, my friend S, who ate two boston creme timmy ho donuts. in a row. right before we entered a room full of a bunch of pickled organs (yes, including those organs), cadaver portions, and The World's Nerdiest Professors for our bellringer. now that, my friends, is a strong stomach.

in other school-related news, i meant to study the whole of this weekend for my communications exam on wednesday, but it really felt like i had to re-socialize (or de-anatomize) myself. my mind was chock full of the names of blood vessels and their layers, potential pathologies of the kidney, the direction of fetal blood circulation vs. adult circulation, and the path of an ovulated egg. i needed to just *not think* for a bit (not to mention that i really needed some good sleep - takes us seniors a long time to catch up). plus, check out my professor's website for the subject for which i am supposed to be studying. as you do so, try to imagine what kind of lecturer he would be. and then, imagine that he is about 10 million times worse than that, and you may get a glimpse of what my monday nights this term have been like.

so, yeah. studying this weekend just didn't make the cut. but here's what did:
- eating indian food with my bro and B at my new favourite restaurant (and no, smart asses, not cuz it's a buffet, but cuz it's got amazing food)
- being visited by J and baby scouter
- watching our taped episode of grey's anatomy from thursday
- eating party mix (loudly), drinking grape juice mixed with soda water, and burping
- running the 894 killer stairs leading from suburbia-land (where we live on the mtn) to the 'hood down below us
- buying a new stereo for the car (finally - only 9 months since it was stolen!!)
- playing a new video game on the computer
- reading all the blogs i haven't been reading
- burning my anatomy notes
- cuddling with the cat

i figure it's all worth it. and by tomorrow morning, bright and early, i will be ready to conquer lectures with titles like "framing the victorians: the development of photography," "the renaissance computer: being a lecture on the subject of gutenberg's printing press and the consequences pertaining thereto for european societies" and my favourite, "who killed the picturephone?" (within whose lecture our professor actually quoted 'video killed the radio star'). and, if you call me before wednesday and i don't answer, it's probably b/c i've stuck a pencil in my eye from trying to translate his feckin' weekly comedy routines into something i can study to prepare for an exam in which we are expected to write three. essays. in. three. hours. gaaaaaahhhhhhhh.

anatomically corrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrect

i just wanted to share with my blogging public that sleeping with my anatomy notes under my pillow (aka osmosis) must work after all! i am significantly smarter than last term - that is, if we use midterm grades as our benchmark...can i just say that i have never been so happy to be only 3/4 right in my whole life?!

anywho...i am on a library-owned HP laptop sitting smack next to a couple of 19 year old valley girl sound-alikes, but i've had about all i can take. soooo...until later!

can you spell 'misspell'?

if i read 'wierd' one more time on a sign, blog, or in the paper, i'm gonna go ballistic. i know the stupid rhyme is 'i before e except after c' but c'mon people...oh, and i also have a book club recommendation for you. it's called the dictionary.

P.S. you'd better not differentiate right from left by holding up your hands and seeing which index finger and thumb make an 'L', either.

a wohk in the pahk (to be said a la dick van dyke in 'mary poppins')

as the mercury in southern ontario rose to a balmy 1.9 degrees, and as i am the world's best procrastinator (self-proclaimed, mind you, but i bet i would beat you anyway), i went into guelph yesterday afternoon to hang out with two of my favourite babies (and their mommies, who are not too shabby either). contrary to the title of this post, there was not really any walking in the park (too much slush and ice to navigate precious cargo down the big pre-park hill), but there was a lot of walking. and a fair bit of talking, cake-eating, and some of us even filled our pants (shame on you, jess!).

it was a glorious day - sunny, crisp, mucky, with a hint of spring, and it was just what i needed to balance out the hours i have been spending trying to memorize the types and functions of white blood cells, the crazy mathetmatical formulas for lung elastance, and what the stomach looks like under a microscope as compared to the jejunum. although i was feeling quite apprehensive before the visit about taking so much time away from my studying/ panicking/desire to ram a pencil in my eye, it was a wonderful reprieve. so thank you girls! and thank you, my sweet babies!!

just one last note...as we walked and pushed the lucky monkeys in their deluxe, ready-to-scale-mountains stroller systems, with their visors to shade their drowsy eyes from the sun, their little warm fuzzy carseat sacs, their blankies, and their soft squishy pillows to cradle their heads...i wondered, for the umpteenth time, why someone couldn't make strollers for adults. someone hop on that, mmkay? i'll tradeja some really cool physiology facts about the liver that are sure to be party pleasers...

it's kinda hard to study when...

...something this cute sits on your anatomy textbook!

from comatose to furious in no time flat

as many of you will know, i am a passionate person, but not unless i am descending into the depths of one of my terrible depressions does this passion fuel rage. however, there is one person who can make me go from comatose to vibratingly murderous in about 0.243 seconds. his name is kris, and he lives downstairs.

b and i have taken to calling him 'the slug' because frankly, that's what he looks like, and i would estimate that his intelligence is at slug-like levels as well. (do take note of the fact that the slug in the diagram below is heading away from the maze entrance.) the two things that differentiate him from a slug, however, are a huuuuuge ego and a thunderous voice that he uses to announce/trumpet/bellow the details of his life to our entire neighbourhood. and because we are so fortunate to live above him, we are privy to every. fucking. thing. he. does. and yes, that includes sex, watching porn (we wish this was an uncommon occurrence, but alas, no.), using the bathroom (far less gross than the porn and sex), singing really terrible songs on his untuned guitar (almost worse than the sex), and other similarly revolting things that we could all do without hearing - and i mean ever.

kris' whole ego thing is odd, cuz i'm thinking most slugs have probably seen themselves in a mirror, and have the good sense to know they are slimy, lumpy, and pretty much disgusting to anyone--except other slugs, that is. enter kris' girlfriend, kristina (yes really. kris and kristina). she too, is from the sluggus grossus family, but is paler and has more hair. i know waaaaayyyy more about this girl than i know about some of my best friends, and there is a reason for that--it's TMI. contrary to popular belief, i don't want to know what you sound like at the height of ecstasy. i really don't want to be able to hear about (and then, actually hear the soundtrack for, your preferences for porn). i don't want to hear the sweet nothings you whisper/holler into the ears/tentacles of your lover/slug. i will like you better for not knowing that stuff, believe me.

speaking of being better for not knowing things...i just have to say that i didn't need to learn that slugs are hermaphrodites. i also didn't need to read ANY of the section on reproduction, and i'd suggest that you don't either.

as i am typing out this tirade, i can hear more of the daily slug-drama unfolding: "HEY KRISTINA DO YOU WANT SOME TEA?" "YEAH WITH LOTS OF MILK AND SUGAR, NOT LIKE LAST TIME. I ONLY SEEN YOU PUT IN 3 SPOONS OF SUGAR YESTERDAY." note that the hollering comes from our living room, which means they are probably next to each other on the couch. earlier they were watching 'superman,' which is one of the two movies they loop continuously on surround sound (the other is 'moulin rouge'). thankfully, he has not played anne murray today, nor has he played the CD recording of himself singing...but wait! hark! as he does like clockwork each day, he is launching into a million-decibel lecture at his seven year old daughter (yes, the same one whose bedroom door opens out to the oily futon where hermaphroditic slug-intercourse takes place). this time he's ragging on how sick and tired he is of cleaning up after her. (as an aside, she is actually pretty cute. from the looks of her, i don't think she is a full-blooded slug, but i worry about her prospects, given her custodial parent. which reminds me: what court of law in this godforsaken province determined him to be the better guardian?!) aha, just on time...she is now sobbing. so the slug should stop now--he usually keeps it up until she dissolves into helpless tears. it turns out that this is a win-win situation for everyone.

we need to get out of here. seriously. this is a violation of human rights on a number of levels, i'm sure of it. i think we will have to start a non-profit organization (entitled 'rescue mission: from slugs to safety') and an accompanying bank account for donations. you've got to help us get out of here. you know we'd do it for you. just follow the trail of slime up the hamilton mountain...but knock loudly, as we are holed up in our bedroom (located above the kitchen - the least disgusting noises come from there), wearing earplugs covered in cotton batting under our headphones with our heads pressed to our white noise-blaring sound machines.

p.s. does it help our cause to mention that we share a washing machine, and have started to suffer from strange, mysterious slugly symptoms (e.g., laziness, weight gain, affinity for parading our bloated bodies for all to see, etc.)

"say hello to my leetle friend..."

she's just pint-sized, really, weighing in at just under 10 lbs, but she has a very BIG personality. she has just recently celebrated 42 days on 'the outside' (that's 6 weeks, for all you mathematically-challenged folks) and manages to have her mommy, daddy, four sets of grandparents, and auntie kd wrapped around her (very long) baby finger. currently, she's stylin' in size 0 cloth diapers and sleepers with feet, though with the occurrence of several blow-outs, may need to wear size 1 pretty soon (and possibly lose the pants altogether). she is recovering from a recent bout of male-pattern baldness and mild cradle cap, and remained quite stoic throughout - though she did tend to visit the (milk) bar more frequently to cope with the embarrassment. she has been determined by her midwives (and her infant-experienced auntie k) to be 'freakishly strong,' bright, and very alert, and should probably be ready to walk, talk, and solve complicated algorithms by, oh, probably next week. may i introduce you to the world's newest orchestra conductor (she waves her arms around like she is conducting, both awake and asleep), super-sleeper (6.5 hrs at a time during the night - yay!) and professional stink-eye-giver...scout kathleen baynham-pooles!

why i want to be my cat

bona fide snow day

snow continued to fall for all of yesterday, and apparently all last night, because BAM! this is what i found when i (a) opened up our door, and (b) tried to find our car:

now, our situation's not as bad as it could've been, mostly because b only came home at 10 pm (she ventured to guelph for her basketball game, that girl is hard-core), and shoveled the driveway, stoop, and sidewalk for the third time in four hours (yes, i shoveled one of those three times!!). actually i don't know if this is an entirely representative picture of how crazy it is out there, but everything is closed, including work for b and skool for me, and i'm pretty sure i shouldn't drive to guelph for choir tonight. i suppose we could snuggle up and celebrate our 6th romantic valentine's day together....except we were planning to do it tomorrow, and we don't have any of the supplies we need to make the scrumptious dinner we planned. further, i have a lab report and an anatomy quiz tomorrow, which, it turns out, kinda kills the mood...

and we're expecting a shwack more

the spectrum of my weird-ness

i've been seeing this meme (scroll down to the 3rd or 4th entry) traverse the blog circuit and i definitely wanted to participate. i mean, who doesn't want to broadcast their various weirdnesses to the web-savvy public?

so, here are six weird things about me (i tell ya it was hard to limit myself):

1. i often 'see' words that are being spoken aloud - as in, a marquee-like banner rolls through my brain with the words typed out (usually in times new roman, though i would prefer arial). that is why when you tell me the name of your future child, invariably my first question will be 'how is that spelled?'

2. similarly, the spelling of names can make them or break them for me. a misplaced 'e' or some funky garbled spelling can lead to ruin, i tell you!

3. if i am suffering from insomnia, i will try to picture everyone i know asleep. or, i think of babies sleeping, because that is comforting and cozy and sweet.

4. i like baby food. specifically, i love strained pears.

5. the index and middle fingers on my left hand click every time i flex them. it drives b wild.

6. one of my nostrils is a significantly different size than the other. meaning, i won't be offended if you peer up there the next time you see me - in fact, i will be offended if you don't.

newsflash!

so it turns out, counter to my concerns of yesterday, that i was of great use during the karaoke-a-thon last night. though my nasal passages are kaput, my lungs are apparently quite healthy, and enabled me to perform a couple of hits with two other midwives-to-be who shared my penchant for self-humiliation in large crowds (i couldn't help but feel the whole night was reminiscent of tunes that would've been played on winnipeg's 1290 fox station, circa 1992). whatever the case, it was good times.

however stunned we may have rendered the (mostly drunk and oblivious) audience with our unadulterated talent, i must say that my favourite performances of the night came from a rotund, white-haired man wearing a tight, retro t-shirt emblazened with 'super star' (two words, not 'superstar'). it just worked for him, y'know? he first sang something country (wendy the honky-tonk would probably know the artist, but alas, i did not), and then an old showtune that i recognized but also could not name (apparently i need to hang out at this place more to up my 'karaoke cred'). anyways i enjoyed him. i would highly recommend a trip to the snooty fox in hamilton on a sunday night just to hang out with him.

it turns out that i am less and less able to create kleenex art, which is a positive thing. okay yet another tangent...but i have to get it out. every time i say/write the words 'it turns out' i always think of this one lecturer we had for anatomy, because he always used those words to describe things he thought were really interesting, or just really obvious. for instance: 'it turns out that our gastrointestinal tract is just one long tube connecting the mouth and the anus' or 'it turns out that we swallow about 1.5 litres of mucous a day' or my favourite, 'it turns out that people with injuries to their scapula will develop what look like the wings of a chicken' (?!). so now every time i utter/write those words, i can hear his nasal, annoying voice in my head...which frankly, i could do without. it's noisy enough up there already.

okay. i'm going to go watch supernanny, which my lovely woman-servant taped for me to watch upon my return from my class an hour ago. can i just say that i adore jo-jo? (i just about wrote 'and her naughty spot' but that takes things to a whole other level. if you watched the show, however, your mind would be out of the gutter and you'd know what i meant!!!)

i love this guy

i've been meaning to post this guy for a couple weeks - i am fascinated by him! he's the 'pale man' from the movie pan's labyrinth, a night which will forevermore be solidified in my mind as the night a bunch of yahoos smashed the passenger window of our car...yes, for the second time. no, they didn't take anything, as we hadn't replaced our stereo from the last time we got broken into. have i mentioned the bountiful love i have for hamilton?! gah!

anyways, i think this pale man is absolutely brilliant. i mean, how much more creepy can you get? he is skinny, pasty, saggy, and the only way he can see is to hold his hands up by his face...it's scintillatingly freaky! i love this character. love-love-love it! i wouldn't want to meet him in the middle of the night, but i am so impressed at the mastermind who thought him (it?) up. it was almost worth the shattered window...

my new trademark...

this pretty much sums up my weekend - and these pictures are only from this afternoon. i am a shuffling, snuffling vector of disease, and i am none too happy about it. this is getting ridiculous.

needless to say, i am going to be of little use to the karaoke-a-thon in which my fellow midwifery students are participating...i may show up to cheer them on if my fever drops, just for the amusement, as i am reaching new levels of insanity. i haven't left the house since thursday, and have only had the constant company of one neurotic, possessed cat. luckily for all of us, b has escaped (i just typed 'excaped', ha ha) periodically, to work out at the gym, and to make a few trips to the grocery store to buy mittfuls of kleenex, soup, and O.J. in the name of the 'what would shannon do' game i like to play (of 'what would jesus do' fame), i originally sent b to the LCBO to get some gin to throw at my problem...but alas, a cure was not to be found.

anywho. it's been a slice chatting to you, but i've got another few hours of being propped up in bed, calling out in my pathetically-stuffy voice for my gorgeous woman-servant to ply me with affection, orange juice, and lipton cup-a-soup (she is a very talented cook, as you can tell). :)

and whatever you do, don't hesitate to send me well-wishes, trashy magazines, and bonbons...

i have just been...educated?

okay, so i finished my last post and went up to the second floor of the library to my quiet little nook...and what did i come upon but one scantily-clad (i.e. top off) girl and one panting, perspiring boy getting it on against 'the journal of adult education.'



no joke.




what fun.

this is not a retraction...but it may be a reflection

okay, so yesterday's post probably came across as a little crusty. funny, that, cuz i was feeling pretty damn crusty, though my tongue was firmly implanted in my crusty cheek as i wrote...

after a decent night's sleep (periods during which i snored like a chainsaw, according to B), i had a revelation. actually that was a lie - i just wanted to say 'revelation.' i was, however, able to think about the issue from a bunch of different angles. interestingly, one of my friends from school, whose opinion i value a great deal, inspired this post, when she pointed out that my "directionless dripping sarcasm" was actually, um, how do you say...directed! she was right, of course - it was. but not quite in the way she implied, in that i was directing it towards all of us. more than anything, what happened yesterday was a repetition of similar patterns i have experienced - indeed, many of us have - over a lifetime.

so...i don't want you (whoever you may be) to feel attacked...but i would like you to think about it, and perhaps even comment on it, if you feel so inclined. why do we shy away from expressing unpleasantries (is that a word?!) head-on, and instead employ less-than-fair communication tactics to express how we feel? and if you had a strong, visceral reaction to what i wrote in the first place...what do you figure that's all about?

a musing...but not amused

*warning: this is a bit rant-ish, so if you aren't in the mood, DO NOT read further*

**seriously. this entry may put a bee in your bonnet, and may induce paranoia that i am talking about you. who knows, you might be right! but don't say i didn't warn you...**

so here's a question: how fair is it to hold out hope that people will actually tell us when they are upset with something we have said, done, implied, enacted, emailed...whatever? actually you know what, let's bring it in from the abstract, cuz what i really want to know is how fair is it for me to hope for this? personally, i like my criticism straight up and straightforward. have i hurt you or disappointed you? are my personal habits making you bonkers, or do i never call you back when i say i will? i'm serious here. how do you like hearing the not-so-glowing things from people in your life? would you rather everyone sweep it under the carpet and hope it goes away, never to be referred to again? or would you prefer the build-up-and-explode method, of which there are several variations (e.g., the build-up-and-explode-years-later edition, the build-up-and-explode-in-front-of-an-innocent-third-party approach, and the build-up-and-execute-silent-treatment version)?

after writing my gd outline until the wee hours of this morning, i was almost on my last nerve. luckily for me, someone chose 9 am to perform a mexican hat dance on my third-to-last one, which left a whole other two for all of today (which were subsequently used by 1. cleaning up the lumpy puddle of cat puke i nearly stepped in following my shower and 2. the bubblehead who, in addition to apparently bathing in 'white diamonds' - you go elizabeth taylor - also jostled my coffee-holding arm at the self-serve tim horton's). so, between the cat barf and my uplifting 12:30 class on toxins in breastmilk, i attempted to address built-up-and-exploded-over-email issues with said person, and then donned the guilt cloak for awhile (i have this thing where i am really selfish with blame, in that i like to keep it all to myself) but once i shirked that...i was pret-ty bugged.

now, by no means am i perfect, as anyone who knows me can attest. i have a very detailed series of log books that go back to my toddler years, upon whose lines are painstakingly etched (by me) the ways i am imperfect. while i'm at it, i might as well admit that i can be somewhat hypocritical, in that i don't always practice what i preach...a quality that i find quite repugnant in self as well as others. anyway. all i can tell you is i'm working on it. in fact, i'm getting pretty broke from working on it).

all directionless, dripping sarcasm aside, i am in a conundrum here. i really don't understand this shock and awe approach, yet i'd say more people than not use it. i spent a lot of time trying to reason it all out today, like: do we do this out of fear (of reproach, retaliation, rejection)? or is it just simply that it is easier to be on the offensive than to be vulnerable? are the things that irk us the most in others the things we need to work on ourselves? are we just too polite? how much of it is a result of our upbringing? and then lastly, what kind of valid, achievable alternatives really exist in those prickly, difficult situations when we need to communicate our not-so-happy feelings with someone we care about?

with the quickness of my anger this morning and on a couple of other recent occasions, i realize that my nerves for the 'build-up-and-explode' varieties of communication are few and close to the surface. not only is this problematic in terms of the amount of anger i could potentially expend, but if i am not careful, i could all too easily feed into the very cycle that puzzles me, by being so angry about the approach people use, that i become unapproachable. ha. the irony. i think there is validity in that, and i have added this to my personal to-do log book.

but i refuse to sit with this question alone, and encourage you to take a little self-survey and see what you find. what's your favourite way to 'do' criticism, and is it the same way that you like it done to you?

distractions

thanks to my good friend shannon's recommendation...reading stuff over here is why i almost peed my pants three minutes ago. i refer you to the one entitled 'take me, my mighty silverback.' soooo stupid. gah. back to the history of the CBC...

wild weekend...for us, that is

well, all i gots to say is: so much for endeavouring to write daily blog entries! (thank goodness i didn't pledge it to everyone on my blog, which was my original idea...)

yesterday was cottie's birthday (the big 29, whoo hoo!) and we took him out for dinner in TO with our friends maria and ruth. following some pretty decent indian food (you know how critical i can be about that!) we headed to his gig at gate 403 with the elizabeth shepherd trio. i'd really recommend checking out her site - has some clips of their shtuff, and a video as well. the gate 403 was hopping, and we consumed a couple pitchers of creemore (and a round of broken-down-golf-cart shots, courtesy of cottie's gf robyn) while we rawked out...overall a pretty great night, seeing as we actually left the house, and did social-y things in the big city (and found some friends that were willing to go out with us in public)...

today, my lovely fiancee has decided that she is throwing a superbowl party...for one. gad she's cute. i say, all the power to her. i may partake in some of the culinary fruits of her trip to the grocery store (hawaiian pizza, M&Ms, coke)...but alas, i will not be celebrating anything beyond that. i'm a werkin' girl. essays to write, readings to absorb, and notes to take. (and hell, if i'm going to procrastinate, i'll play solitaire on the computer. or maybe wash my hair or something.)

i haven't yet decided what i'm going to do with this blog, and who i'm writing for. it was originally a way to keep m' MB peeps informed as to the goings-on in the life of kd...but i think that might be slightly boring! i've also seen lots of people (some people i know, but also people whose blogs i read) that become really attached to writing for an audience, and start to feel neglected/ upset/worked up if they don't find any comments on what they have written. i too can see the potential for that happening...but here's my decision: instead of obsessing (beyond the usual) however, i've just decided to let it evolve. yup, that's what i'm gonna do. so...until the next time i decide to blather randomly (hopefully after i finish writing my paper for my communications course on the history and inception of CBC, and maybe after i've reviewed congenital heart defects, respiration, and completed my case study)...have a wonderful day. and enjoy the superbowl, if that's your thing...

don't bother reading this. it's not funny, and it's a waste of all of our time...

hello ON escapade fans (and fans-to-be),

i got inspired to post again while reading another blog i just started visiting (it's called 'beautiful blueberry eyes', and you can see it here). i thought, what better to re-start my foray into the blogosphere than to do a self-indulgent meme? it's kinda a toss-up between scattergories and, um, well, let's see...a mode of blatant procrastination from writing a paper on the politics and morality of breastfeeding...

Rules: Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following…They must be REAL places, names, things…NOTHING made up! If you can’t think of anything, skip it. You CAN’T use your name for the boy/girl name question.

1. Famous Athlete: karen kain
2. 4 letter word: kind
3. Street name: king St (of which EVERY FRICKIN' CITY IN ONTARIO has at least one - going N, S, E & W, if you are in waterloo)
4. Color: kelp (?!)
5. Gifts/presents: kinder surprise eggs, kimonos
6. Vehicles: kia
7. Tropical Locations: khartoum
8. College Majors: kinesiology
9. Dairy Products: kraft singles
10. Things in a Souvenir Shop: capital-k Krap
11. Boy Name: kalen
12. Girl Name: kelsey
13. Movie Titles: kill bill
14. Alcohol: koolers?
15. Occupations: kindergarten teacher,
16. Flowers: kalanchoe
17. Celebrities: kris kringle
18. Magazines: knit n' style (no, seriously)
19. Canadian Cities (the original was US cities, but c'mon now, we're in Canada...): killarney (MB), killaloe (ON), kitimat (BC)
20. Pro Sports Teams: kansas city chiefs (i cheated and looked that one up. poor b, she was probably so excited that i actually knew a team...!)
21. Something Found in a Kitchen: ketchup, kettle
22. Reason for Being Late: kangaroo infestation
23. Something You Throw Away: kidney stones (and i think we should, if we don't now)
24 Things You Shout: kabbalah rulz!
25. Cartoon Character: kanga (from winnie the pooh)

you know what, i don't know why i even did that. it wasn't all that funny, and wasn't even that worth the time i wasted. in fact, i almost would've rathered write my paper.