Saturday, February 24, 2007
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.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
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...
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
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.
Monday, February 12, 2007
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!!!)
Sunday, February 11, 2007
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...
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.
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...
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
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?
Monday, February 05, 2007
**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?