Sunday, October 31, 2010
Days like today are why I don’t trust anyone, why I don’t like people and why I spend as little time with people as possible. I’d arranged with some people to go see a movie. The Kids are Alright actually came to my city. I know it came out like... months ago, but I was pretty disappointed when it wasn’t in our regular theatre. That’s the thing with small conservative cities... Anyway, I was supposed to meet my people at the theatre. I waited about half an hour before the ticket checker dude told me the movie was about to start any minute. He told me that if I was waiting for someone, I could watch on the monitors outside. Which was actually very nice of him.
Thing is, I may live in a small town, but I really didn’t like the idea of dragging my ass all the way across town to watch this movie on a monitor outside the theatre. I went back to the box office, bought my ticket and picked my seat. It was mildly embarrassing. I’m amazed that I never get used to that feeling.
The movie was really good. Somehow more nudity than I was expecting, but really good. All the characters were just... very human I think. And it wasn’t some sappy romantic comedy either. It had a lot of funny moments, but a lot of dramatic, normal, family moments too. I liked how ordinary everything was.
However, it was really hard to enjoy the movie even though it was great. When it ended I turned around and saw two of the people I was supposed to go with initially. Everyone crapped out on them and their event ran long so they were late. At least they apologized.
I’m now back home with my parents. I actually debated not telling them what happened. I’m not one to keep secrets but it gets very hard to come home with the same story. I think that’s the most embarrassing... shitty part of being ditched/stood up. I mean, I’m almost twenty two... you’d think things would have changed. They apparently don’t.
Hope for the future! Did I rant or just... vent a bunch of crap? Sorry.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
I make faces at people who aren’t paying attention just to freak them out. I wave extra big because I can and why not? I make up my own curse words. I proudly announce that I can touch my foot to my head AND prove it. I eat my vegetables last at every meal. My favourite books are kid’s books because they’re beautifully imaginative, carefully crafted works of art. When my parents want to get me out of the house badly, they bribe me with ice cream. I LOVE cartoons. Love ‘em!
Tonight I watched ‘How to Train your Dragon’. It was really good. I was actually surprised by it. Not quite the typical ending. Same happy ending, but there’s something a little different. It’s definitely on my buy list. And I’m picky about my movies. It’s just annoying how expensive cartoons are. I’ll just put it on my Christmas list. Mwahahaha.
I don’t know if I can tell you more about my childishness... An’ I don’t know if I wanna tell ya! I think some people actually find it annoying or see it as a sign of immaturity. I just think a lot of people take themselves or take things too seriously. If my past, my anxiety disorder and my depression have taught me anything, it’s that you have to laugh and you have to have fun.
Which is why I delight in being a big kid. I hope that never changes. So there.
Friday, October 29, 2010
And then I got to thinking. What the hell can you use a cotton ball for? I mean, I know the regular uses... getting nail polish off, stuff it up your nose when it bleeds, satanic preschool art projects. But I’m sure some people out there have devised other uses. For the hell of it, and because I was really curious at this point, I typed in “100 uses for cotton balls” and let google do its magical thing.
I didn’t find 100 uses, but I did find fifteen.
1. Pour cologne on a cotton ball, throw it in your vacuum and scent a room!
Problem: I am highly sensitive to strong smells. Not going to happen on that alone. Second, we have a central vacuum system... I don’t think it’ll work. I don’t see how it could work. If anyone tries this, let me know if it actually works.
2. When the fridge gets nasty dampen a cotton ball with vanilla extract and place it in the fridge.
Problem: While it may smell better, you still have rotting food in your fridge. Cotton ball ain’t gonna change that. CLEAN YOUR FRIDGE! Wouldn’t it just make your fridge messier? Nasty wet clump of brown cotton just sitting there...
3. To clean mould in hard to reach places, soak cotton ball in bleach and somehow affix the cotton ball to the mouldy spot. Come back later with hot water and it will be all clean!
Problem: I’d have to touch it... That’s all I’ve got for this one... I can actually see that being a crafty solution to some tough cleaning problems.
4. Use cotton balls to pad the end of drawer runners to help keep kids’ fingers from getting crushed.
Problem: Every time the drawer would close, I would hear the cotton ball smooshing. (I full body shuddered just thinking of that.) And you know what, if your kid sticks his fingers in the drawer and it slams shut, he’ll only do it once. Nothing wrong with learning from experience.
5. Long nails tend to puncture rubber gloves. Shoving cotton balls into the fingers of the gloves would prevent this.
Problem: I’M TOUCHING THEM! FIVE TIMES! WITH EACH FINGER! OF MY BARE HAND! AND THEY COULD GET WET MAKING THEM GROSSER! OH NO! I CAN’T DO IT! I CAN’T EVEN IMAGINE DOING IT!
I’ll be honest. I couldn’t read the other ten tips. I was too grossed out and just... the last two caused me to shudder and gag so badly... we just won’t go there. As long as I have someone to take the cotton ball out of my new bottles of Advil, I needn’t come in contact. EVER! Oh, and to acquaintances, please don’t get any bright ideas of threatening me with cotton balls. People have tried and failed. Miserably. I’m watching you.
PS: The scene in ELF in which Will Farrell is eating cotton balls? Yeah, can't watch it. I left the room.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Name: Lauren E.
Preferred Name: Lauren
Last Name: Daily
Original Last Name (if changed): STILL DAILY DAMMIT!
So irritating. I was just applying to a different program at my same school. And still had to pay 10$ to have them ship my transcript from my school to my school. No, I’m not actually mad about 10$. I would jump with joy at spending 10$. I have 195 reasons to get educated and use my education to make money.
Other than that! I watched Oprah today. She usually annoys me. But she had the entire original cast of the Sound of Music on. It was for some anniversary. Anyway, audience members were telling their Sound of Music stories and since I’ve mentioned it... I don’t actually know how many times on here, I guess I can tell you mine.
I’ve always been a pretty solitary person. I was a really shy kid. I’m still pretty shy. Then I was bullied for an extended period of time. I never really fit in with people my own age. For obvious reasons I wasn’t interested in hanging out with younger kids and I clearly couldn’t keep up with older kids. I still don’t really get along with people my age. How does this relate to the Sound of Music? Well, it’s one of the first movies I remember seeing. My parents bought the soundtrack so I listened to it all the time in the car. I knew and still know all the songs. And when I would sit on the bus alone, those songs would always run through my head and keep me company. I actually have the majority of the songs on my MP3 Player now. And on occasion when I wish I was sitting alone on the bus, I listen to them. My favourite is I Have Confidence. Go figure right?
Does anyone NOT have a Sound of Music story? I shall test this theory.
Lauren to Mom: Do you have a Sound of Music story?
Mom: No. Why? Do you have one?
Mom: Well! When I lived on Beattie Street, my big sister and her friend took her brother and us to the theatre downtown. We walked there and we walked home at eleven o’clock at night, and we watched the movie.
Lauren: That it?
Mom: Yeah. I think it cost 50 cents to get in. How’s that for a story?
Lauren: Is that when bread cost 10 cents a loaf?
Mom: No, but a box of Kraft Dinner (mac and cheese) cost 19 cents and a carton of cigarettes cost 7$. And if they can figure out what year that’s in...
Lauren: How old were you?
Lauren: And how do you know the price of cigarettes?
Mom: Oh yeah! ‘Cause when I was sixteen, I worked at a grocery store and back then, cigarettes cost 7$. And that’s too much information.
Lauren: I would say so... Smokey McGee.
My mom would like to specify that she never smoked. My theory also worked out with one of my friends. Anyone up to sharing?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
So, remember that crazy weather I mentioned? Turns out it wasn’t over. Never would have known. It was sunny and you could see blue sky. It was cool but not cold. Typical Fall day. And then I got up to my Vic Brit seminar at 3:30. Unlike my Islamic Civ class, my Vic Brit seminar is in a much smaller classroom with windows. Looking outside, trees were practically bending in half thanks to winds going I don’t know how fast.
The sun was still out, the sky still blue, no rain, just a crapload of wind. We could hear it against the building and to be honest, it was a bit freaky. Finally... maybe forty five minutes into class, the lights buzzed and flickered out. They snapped back on then buzzed out again and didn’t come back on. I’m quite glad we weren’t in an auditorium. We continued class, there was more than enough light for that. Although I’m told peeing was a problem. As far as I know, none of the bathrooms have windows... Luckily the girl in question had a “candlelight app” on her cell phone. Seriously. There’s nothing like mood lighting I always say. Near the two hour mark, some woman came in and announced that everything was closing and that only people who had classes at six thirty (meaning me) should go to the cafeteria.
It was easy to get to the caf from where I was. Lots of windows. I found a seat next to a window and started eating my supper. Most people were complaining about how it was a waste of time... I disagree. People are so concerned with their time but what would they be doing otherwise? Sitting in class pretending to listen while actually checking their Facebook. No patience. I had my food, I had a book and I had enough light to read. Waiting wasn’t an issue for me. Not like we waited long anyway. I wasn’t even done eating before the same strange woman from before announced that: CLASSES ARE CANCELLED!
NO STUPID PSYCH FOR ME! Except next Monday when I see Angela.
Of course, I had to borrow someone’s phone to call home since I still refuse to get one of my own. I would have taken the bus but I probably would have needed a bat to beat people out of my way. Incidentally, that’s how I do my Christmas shopping. Hey, Walmart is scary at Christmas! Oh, another plus, power was back on at my house by the time I got there. WOO!
Today the Universe cut me a break. I recognize this. I thank the Universe. Please keep it coming.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
In any case, when I wake up, my family is usually gone. Parents are at work and sister is off to class or work. I sleep through all their noise and wake up to silence. This morning however, I woke up around six and heard my parents loading the dishwasher, pouring cereal, throwing treats for the cat (we make him work for them) and watching the news. I eventually decided that I wasn’t going to get back to sleep. I started reading instead. By eight, I was dozing again.
I woke up at nearly eleven to the sound of the fire alarm. Normally I wouldn’t panic at all. I wouldn’t even blink. Our fire alarm goes off at everything. If the oven is at 450 the fire alarm goes off. If something is smoking in a pan, the fire alarm goes off. If you get too close to the fire alarm on a hot day... okay, that one’s a lie, but you get the idea. Thing is, I assumed I was alone in the house. My family isn’t in the habit of cooking while not present. My feet just had time to touch the floor when just as suddenly as it had come on, the alarm stopped. Confused?
Yeah, turns out my sister was cooking again. This time she was broiling prosciutto. Why? Dunno. She does stuff like that. I stumbled downstairs, still half asleep, to find the fans running and the windows open. It’s kind of... what happens when she cooks. Normally when I’m trying to sleep. Like at eleven at night or eleven in the morning... apparently around eleven. She didn’t even offer me any damn prosciutto! I don’t think I like prosciutto... but that’s not the point!
Meh, it was time I got up anyway. I prefer other ways though. Now good news! I actually actively participated in seminar today. I hate, hate, hate talking in class. Which is unfortunate because that’s all you do in seminars. I usually get in a word or two and clam up again. But I had a lot to say today for some reason. Personal triumph! Even if what I had to say wasn’t all that important. Also, I got to take the car to school which meant that I could escape as soon as school finished. I got twenty minutes of free parking too. WOOT! And with an hour to spare between the end of my class and picking my mom up from work, I went to visit my grandma instead of going home. Which was nice.
Oh the little things...
Monday, October 25, 2010
I was barely conscious. I actually don’t remember a whole lot. Some of it I purposely wasn’t paying attention to, but mostly I just wasn’t listening due to headache and tiredness. Here’s what I remember:
I was having a nap on the couch when the Pride President came in and smacked my ass. I felt violated and I’m never going to nap on my stomach there again.
There was a lot of noise that just made my head feel like it was going to esplode, so I decided to nap again.
I usually make stupid comments but thankfully Dave was making stupid comments for me. I could at least giggle about that when I was paying attention.
There was a new girl and we ended up chatting and giggling. I don’t remember why, but we also trading cookies. I gave her one of my chocolate chip, Skor bar cookies and she gave me a peanut butter banana cookie.
When I came back to the WC after class, I tried to nap again. Failed, but it was nice to lie down. My head was spinning it hurt so bad.
Finally I got home, took some Tylenol (mmmm Tylenol) and I curled up on the couch and for some serious nappage. What helped was when Meeko came and parked himself on me. He’s so warm. So we napped together until supper. My headache went away but it’s starting to come back now...
I think I’m going to get off the computer and just take a break for tonight.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
We had to write a report on a country with an Islamic past. I got Kuwait. So, I’ve spent most of today with about seven different tabs open in my web browser, trying to determine which information about Kuwait is accurate, least biased and relevant to what my professor wants.
In a little over 1800 ass-numbingly dull words I have described Kuwait’s geography, politics, history, industry, leisure, religion, economy, conflicts with Iraq, media and I’m now debating adding a section on heath care and education. Someone... stop me. Please. I don’t want to stare at point form facts anymore. I don’t wanna convert random information into less random, full sentences.
Give me a research paper! At least I have to think and there’s some creativity involved. This is just spouting facts without committing plagiarism. I feel like I’m back in fifth grade but with much more work and much less sleep.
You know, there’s another more creative way of doing this report... and it’ll only be one page long. Yeah... screw it. I’m not prepared to pay 1153$ to send my prof to Kuwait. Screw you AirCanada! You should help me with my attempts at bribery! I’m a Canadian citizen! Canada is in your name!
Okay, well enough of that nonsense. Besides, I would only really consider it if I was guaranteed an A. With my luck, he’d come back having contracted some pulmonary condition and die, leaving me with no essay to mark by another professor. I would get a zero AND be out 1153$. It’s just not worth it.
On a more positive note, I think I would be interested in visiting Kuwait... for a bit... maybe. It’s just so damn hot.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Lauren: Does that intro suit you?
Lauren: We actually made videos for you. Yes. Plural. Using Kathryn’s idea of driving dangerously while taking video of the area where she lives. Unfortunately due to the sheer evil of computer codecs (WTF?)...
Dana interrupting: Agreed.
Lauren: ...and other things... we are not able to upload them. Which is a pity. I mean, it was the journey to get Chinese food and then we took you around school and everything!
Dana: It was pretty epic. Just to get Chinese food. I’ll try to find a conversion program and fix all that up. Because it really deserves to be seen. DANA READS. That’s not what I said Lauren.
Lauren: I can’t remember word for word what you say!
Dana fetches cookies from the depths of the oven.
Lauren: I don’t understand why these aren’t rising like they usually do.
Dana singing: Rise up, rise up! DANA READS. WHAT?
Lauren: I’m not writing everything you’re saying... I didn’t include your little song from Space Jam. Didn’t think I noticed did’ja?
Dana: That’s not what happened! READS. I didn’t say that angrily!
Lauren: Exclamations marks don’t always signify anger!
Dana: I really wish we could put that video up. So much commentary! This is when Lauren becomes a bitch. This is my stupid moment, this is your stupid moment. OH! Two minutes left! (on the cookies)
Lauren: Anyway, I get the last word since this is my blog.
Anyway... the videos... We have about an hour of footage in which we both sound stupid (mostly Dana though she definitely is not) or like a bitch (mostly me, which I’m not always). We actually watched over all the videos while eating the food we’d originally gone to pick up and were laughing our asses off. We sound like a very odd, old married couple. Which probably suits Dana just fine given that she enjoys pretending we’re together when we go grocery shopping. For baking! I also discovered I’m a horrible backseat driver. You’ll soon see.
Dana: Now that you have your G2 you think you can boss me around!
Lauren ignores Dana.
So, hopefully, that video will be edited considerably and posted for your viewing... pleasure? at some point in the not too distant future.
Until tomorrow. Anything to add Dana?
Dana: ... Noooo... GIGGLES NERVOUSLY.
Right... Well, until tomorrow then!
Lauren and Dana.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Today’s weather was no exception. WARNING: The following images may be disturbing to some viewers, particularly those affected by SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder aka Winter Depression). Viewer discretion is advised.
Remember that little dude I drew on the window when it snowed in May? Yeah, he was actually still in the window but this time he had a message for me. And his grin is creepier than before!
He’s saying: “I’m back!” in case you can’t see it.
I’m guessing that the snow will all melt tomorrow, but its arrival does signal something terrible. Christmas is coming. Signs have been popping up no matter how desperately I’ve been trying to ignore them. I caught my dad listening to Christmas music last month. Christmas commercials have started to air. My sister’s boyfriend has been setting up the Christmas department at his work. My mom even started talking about our family dinner! It’s going to be on the 27th! We know the date! Already!
By the way, who’s the genius who came up with the acronym SAD? Really? Did that take time to figure out or did it just work out that way? Sad... like... the emotion! Like the emotion you feel in winter! Oh my God! I get it! I bet it’s the same person who came up with the term ‘cold’ for that irritating illness we all get at least once a year that makes us feel like garbage. I’m not cold when I have a cold. I feel snotty and headachy, irritable and just plain old tired. Hmmm... You know, that could make a good acronym: SHIT. Let’s test it just to be sure.
Imaginary Person: Hey Lauren, how are you feeling?
Lauren: Like SHIT.
Imaginary Person: I heard that was going around. Hope you get better soon!
Other than that though! I went to something called Rolling Darkness Review at school. There were three readers, (all of them reading horror/fantasy type stuff) two from California on their way to Ottawa. Why they stopped here is a mystery (ha!) but it was pretty entertaining. According to my professors they’re more popular in the States. I’d never heard of them. Glenn Hirshberg and Peter Atkins? Afterward there was this social thing. I couldn’t actually stay long but I did go. I mean... Grey’s. And I can’t stay up until 1:00... so I had to catch it in the Saskatchewan time zone. In any case, you should probably know that two things happen to me when I’m uncomfortable in social situations. I’m either really sarcastic and the people who don’t know this about me tend to think I’m an asshole. It’s happened. Or, the more common one, I babble like I don’t need oxygen until the situation I’m in comes to an end. Tonight was the latter and I think I may have scared the crap out of two profs. Oh well... it was a Halloween thing. My friend was practically peeing herself laughing when we finally left.
And if that’s not enough excitement for you, I have another car story with... TADA! another diagram painstakingly created in Paint.
But that was my day. Busy, busy, busy. As a reward, I get to go to bed now because I have to catch the bus tomorrow. Ah the bus... smelly, full of people, miserable drivers, but I don’t have to park it.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
What sucks is that I had a test in psych tonight. Most of it was multiple choice. There were sixty of the suckers. Lotsa reading. By then I think my brain was completely fried. I read almost every question over at least three times before understanding it. Some of them were not complicated at all. They could have asked: Which two primary colours make purple? And I probably would have had to read it over a few times. The answer is red and blue. In case anyone was curious.
You know how people say, when in doubt, pick C, for multiple choice questions? Well I wasn’t in doubt and every damn answer was C for about the first ten questions. Then D. Are they trying to make me paranoid? That’s mean. MEAN! Maybe it was an experiment... but now I know the ethical guidelines required to conduct experiments... This certainly didn’t follow them! My head hurts... See, they failed at do no harm. I have a head booboo because of them.
Did I honestly just say booboo? Is my spellcheck accepting booboo as a word? WTF? I think I should step away from the keyboard now. Maybe go to sleep. Oh God! I have 'Soft Kitty' stuck in my head!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Remember that article that I was talking about? The one that made me feel like Brittany? Well, today was the day we had to discuss it. My prof was sitting directly beside me and she decided that we’d go around the room and say what we thought about this horrible article. The people across from me were giggling and staring at me... I guess I was making faces again. Anyway, somehow I wound up going second last. Everyone said they had a hard time, most people didn’t understand much, barely anyone had enough of a background in colonialism to make sense of his terminology and references. And then we got to me. Everything everyone had said was true for me as well. I didn’t feel like repeating it. So I said this instead:
Lauren: Yeah... I understood every word of it. It all made sense. I thought it was really interesting and I don’t know what everyone found so difficult about it.
Everyone is either laughing realizing that I’m being sarcastic or freaking out because they think I’m serious. My sarcasm is very finely tuned, it’s not their fault they didn’t pick up on it. Sometimes you actually have to know me personally to realize I’m being sarcastic. I did finally get serious though and admitted that I understood very little. The closing line to my moment in the spotlight went something like this:
Lauren: I don’t drink and my hot chocolate was not strong enough to get me through.
After more laughs, discussion moved on to the girl next to me. That’s where I like the spotlight to be. Other potential comments beyond hot chocolate included the following.
“The only Homi I'm interested in has Simpson for a last name.” (The guy who wrote the article we were looking at is named Homi Bhabha.)
My other comment would have had something to do with the bit of research I attempted on the evil article. Most of what I found was a bunch of scholars critiquing him for being practically incomprehensible. Which made me feel better.
My friend later whispered that she could have explained the article to me if I’d talked to her sooner. Meh... Such is life. I think I understood enough to get me through. We’ll see.
Monday, October 18, 2010
I think I’ve lost my mind. I don’t remember where I put it. On the bright side, everything lost can theoretically be found. I’m going to start looking in the fridge.
I’ll get back to you tomorrow and let you know how my search went.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
I awaken. And by awaken, I mean I woke up and decided it was time to actually stay up. Kind of had a crappy night’s sleep. A combination of Meeko sneezing, teenagers yelling somewhere around my house (I will find you, you hooligans!) and my usual sleep troubles. In any case, I proceeded about my routine. (Checking my email and reading fanfiction... which is horrendously addictive.)
It’s time to get my ass out of bed. Cooking has to be done. It’s my mom’s birthday and I somehow wound up with the privilege of making supper. I decided to start with the chicken. For some reason (probably because she knows I’ll be semi-confident making it), my mom asked for chicken Kiev. I tackled the butter mix first, then checked that no one was in the house. That’s actually an important step because I followed up the quiet butter mixing with beating the shit out of the chicken breasts with a rolling pin. Part of me hopes it bothered my neighbours because they annoy me and unintentional revenge is appealing.
The butter mix had to freeze so I moved on to the cake. It’s one I’ve made before. Partly because I know it’s good and because all the ingredients are readily available. So I worked on that while my parents entertained. Apparently I’m a very quiet baker. My aunt asked if everything was alright because I was so quiet. Nothing was going wrong. There was no reason for me to be swearing.
I make the vinaigrette for tonight’s salad and force my dad to test it. It’s a bit strong, but I think it’ll be alright over the salad. I tidy up the kitchen so that I’m ready to go for the second half of my cooking extravaganza. And blog in between! Look at me multitasking!
Must leave computer to ice birthday cake!
Shower... because I really need it...
Had to stuff and roll the chicken breasts... Then bread them. Then move everything around in the fridge to make room for them. More dishes, took out the garbage because it was super full. Next up, I washed the lettuce for the salad. Because I was feeling lazy I just left the lettuce out on the counter to dry. And then I finally got to stop.
Sleep and TV.
Cooked the croutons, dried the rest of the lettuce, cut it up, cut up the onion, then had to stop cutting the onions. For such a small little thing, my God! They’re awful! I only had to cut two friggin’ shallots and my eyes were watering so bad I had to stop and get my mom to do it. I yelled at my dad to get the baked potatoes going. Then I fried the chicken.
Everything is gone.
So there... Everything turned out well! That’s enough for me. I’m now doing laundry. So tired. Maybe I’ll attempt some writing or something later... Maybe... probably not.
Happy birfday to my Mom! And Veronica!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
So, if Red Riding Hood was a cat, this is what she would look like. Awww... But where does the basket go? No goodies for Grandma? Well then, what the hell is the point of going? She’s sick. She probably doesn’t want to infect you anyway. And who really wants to be seen when they’re all snotty and pukey. You’re probably doing her a favour NOT going.
Turns out no one is working today. Or at least, not at their day jobs. See, the Big Bad Wolf is just too busy checking his email to make it over to Grandma’s to eat her. Although maybe he’s just checking her Facebook status. Like recon work before he moves in. But if Red isn’t going, well, that’s like having a half order and he’s just too hungry for that to be satisfactory. Maybe there’s a Subway down the street.
And in the end, even the Woodcutter was too busy to make it. He was at a conference where they were discussing Human Relations. Looks like it went well. Maybe they’ll be letting him out of that enclosure on good behaviour. Being a vigilante clearly has its downside, but it’s all for the greater good right? FREE THE BEARS! FREE THE BEARS!
Back at Fairytale and Fables ‘R’ Us, the receptionist was just having a field day (hehe! Get it?).
Receptionist: Yes I know everyone missed their appointments today Granny. Look, give me five minutes and I’ll have all of this straightened out. Okay, in the meantime I’ll have someone send over some Tylenol Cold. Okay. Five minutes Granny. I’ll get back to you in five minutes! Yes, thanks, your cookies were delicious. [hangs up]
Well, I don’t think I’m the only one saying thank goodness animals aren’t in all of our fairytales and fables. Also, isn’t it scary how google has answers for everything!?
Friday, October 15, 2010
Anyway, somehow, I still don’t know how, managed to convince my dad to read the first three chapters of my novel. Did you think I gave up on that? I didn’t! Everything slows down with school. I’m surprised he actually read all of it. They aren’t short chapters. All together it’s a little over 13 000 words (about 50 pages double spaced). Once he finished, I tormented him, following him around the house while he vacuumed, asking questions. I’m a feedback whore. I can admit it. Hey, you have to be!
The comments I got were really good and made me all happy inside. My dad usually sticks to “not bad” as a comment. But he seemed genuinely impressed with my newest project! Which means it must be pretty friggin’ awesome because my family isn’t one to show much of what they’re thinking or feeling.
One thing kind of has me curious though. My mom read the first two chapters so I’m wondering if maybe some of the comments they made are related to age...? I’m hoping it’s age. Curious yet?
My main characters are Sophie, Grayson and Hannah. Hannah and Sophie are Grayson’s parents. AH! LESBIANS! I have several story related reasons for writing them as lesbians. One is that I didn’t want to have a “traditional” family. Another is that it works toward plot later on. For whatever reason, the notion of the three of them being a family is hard for my parents to understand. Which I guess I should use to my advantage.
Who’s the biological mother?
Who’s the father?
Does the father come into the story?
So Grayson’s closer to Sophie because she’s the biological mother? (which she’s not)
Why isn’t Sophie the biological mother?
So Hannah and the father had a relationship before Hannah and Sophie got together?
There are some aspects of the novel that hinge on heredity so genetics are important to a certain degree. I didn’t really spend a lot of time considering the father though. I know who he is, but at best he’ll only be a name. I don’t really know why it matters who the biological mother is... they’re both mothers. And like all parents they relate to their son differently. It’s not a question of who’s closer to him. Even though I kind of beat readers over the head explaining that they’re close to him in different ways.
Meh... I’ll have to find younger testers to test my theory. I have another theory but I’m choosing to give my parents the benefit of the doubt here. Okay, so it’s more for my sake that I’m choosing to believe the age theory. I may have to beat my parents if these questions arise when I start my own family.
Tonight, I went to see and stand up comic. My mom got tickets at the last minute today at work. Outings such as these are usually problematic for me. First off, I can’t stand stupid people. Like the two chicks in front of me. They were on their cell phones texting, getting up, leaving... it was very annoying. I do not like people, especially stupid people, being in my personal space. Unfortunately the seats in this theatre put airplane seats to shame in terms of crampedosity. I was lucky. We had four tickets and were only three people so I had room on my left side. I was only squishing my mom. Nothing new for her. My biggest problem however is smells.
I’m super sensitive to smells. Maybe it’s because I’m practically blind, I don’t know. Without fail I end up seated next to someone smelly. This is where my question comes in. I usually have two smell categories:
Category 1: Elderly Persons wearing too much of a perfume that smells too strong to be sold legally in any country. (I suspect the purpose is to downplay the smell of formaldehyde)
Category 2: Body Odour. (I hope further explanations are not required)
I discovered tonight that there’s a third category that I’ve forgotten thus far. I don’t know how I could have forgotten it for so long!
Category 3: Drugs. I do not enjoy the smell of marijuana or even regular, plain old cigarettes.
Category one gives me a wicked headache while Categories 2-3 are only gross and annoying. I don’t know what’s worse. I mean, sure the headache sucks, but at least under the strong smell, it does smell kind of nice. BO and smokeable substances just smell bad and linger and somehow just don’t fade away into the back of your mind the way perfume does.
I was subjected to Categories 2 and 3 but still came out with a headache. Maybe that makes it worse?
Anyway, the show wasn’t bad. Kind of hit and miss for me. We’ll say about 30-40% miss. I have to admit, it was pretty hysterical when he started talking about how Canadians “don’t give a shit about politics”. His proof? Someone managed pie our PM in the face. He proceeded to explain that “it would be really difficult to get the right amount of torque” to pie the American president in the face what with the 40 odd bullet holes in your chest. Good times.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
So, back to my point. I started thinking about the princesses and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’m not like any of them. Aren’t they supposed to be my first role models?
Snow White: I am not naive enough to take food from a scary lady dressed in black. Plus, if I had to sleep until some dude kissed me, the dwarves might as well save their energy and kill me.
Cinderella: I don’t do heels. I mean, I fell off a sidewalk. I’d probably trip in the heels and be forced to limp away which would enable the Prince to catch me. Half the story gone.
Jasmine: I don’t do belly tops.
Ariel: Can’t sing. The Prince would never know it was me. I sound more like Scuttle (that’s the pelican for non-Disney obsessed peoples).
Sleeping Beauty: I don’t really feel the need to spin and I’m not overly curious so I don’t think I would ever touch a spinning wheel. And that would just foil Maleficent’s plan from the start. There would be no story at all. I’d be Awake Chick. That’s not princessy.
Faced with all of these contradictions, I decided to turn to an expert source. I went to Disney’s website to find out which princess I was most like. There’s a quiz! It was full of profoundly scientific questions like:
What's your favourite colour ball gown?
Describe your dream castle:
- Far Away
- Overlooking the water
As it turns out and as suspected, I am most like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. It was my favourite Disney movie when I was a kid. It’s still my favourite actually...
This is what Disney had to say about me:
Super smart, sassy, and spirited are just a few of the qualities you share with beautiful Belle! Always deep in thought, your love of books (and knowledge in general) feeds your desire to explore the world and set out on exciting new adventures... even if it's only through the pages of your favourite novel! You treasure your independence and aren't afraid of being assertive when necessary-- just like Belle. Perseverance, courage, and kindness come naturally to help you prevail over any obstacle that stands in your way.
Check it out!
I’m really diggin’ the sassy! Don’t know if it’s true or not, but I like it. If you end up taking the quiz, be sure to let me know which Princess you are. Guys too! I won’t judge.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
I actually sat down to do my homework. I decided to start with my English seminar stuff because my professor warned us that it was difficult and that we should give ourselves time to really go over it. Yeah... How am I possibly going to explain how I felt reading that article? Let’s see... Picture Brittany from Glee attempting astrophysics. I was Brittany. I have no clue what I was reading. I don’t think I understood a single sentence. And I’m not finished yet. I have six double sided pages left. Bleeeeeeeeeeh. I just couldn’t do it anymore.
After that I attempted to do my history seminar work. That too proved impossible. I have no idea where the reading material is located. I spent about half an hour last night raiding internet databases. I only found one of the readings and because our library is craptastic in the extreme, I didn’t have access to it. So I emailed my prof using my school account. Didn’t work. Since I find my gmail account to be rather temperamental I tried again. Delivery failed again. I tried sending it from my personal account, the one with the address I’ve had since I was fourteen. Didn’t work. Finally I got the bright idea to check the faculty list on my school’s website. Turns out she typed out her email address wrong in the syllabus. The fourth time I succeeded! Still don’t know what I have to read though. She hasn’t emailed me back. Only took about forty five minutes.
I gave up on work after that. I had supper and watched Glee instead. So much better than homework. Thankfully, I only had to watch Glee once to understand the episode. There’s still hope for me!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Anyway, I don’t know what to blog about today. There’s not a whole lot going on in Laurenland. Although, I am happy to report that Meeko is sound asleep on my mom’s cedar chest in the basement. Why is this a good thing? Because he’s not in my room. I love him dearly, but he snores, and sneezes, and licks himself very loudly in the middle of the night and it scares the crap out of me.
Last night, he sneezed and woke me up. Not a big deal, everyone sneezes and I think he has a cold. I settled down again and finally managed to fall asleep. You know, the kind of sleep when you’re just getting to sleep but aren’t quite there yet. Yeah, then he sneezed and scared me awake again. Little monster. A little later, I woke up again. This time he was grooming himself. It sounded more like he was chomping down an eight course meal with his mouth open. I grumbled at him and he continued until he was finished grooming. As cats do... They don't listen to humans. We're inferior.
The waking up happened a few times and as per our newly established routine, I let him out of my room sometime between six and seven in the morning. That’s when he gets fed. Can’t be late for that. Too bad he didn’t develop his sleeping in Lauren’s room habit when I was younger. Our schedules would have been way more synched up.
I’m off to my room before he wakes up. Night!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Here’s what I mean.
Just a tad random don’t you think?
"Hey Daniel? It's Lara, I was wondering if you'd like to get away for a bit. It's ever so boring here in my super huge mansion."
"I would love to but I have company. Donald Duck is over and we're doing this kind of Opposite Day thing. He's wearing a shirt but no pants and I'm wearing shorts and no shirt. That's just how we roll."
"You know, I've been meaning to talk to Donald. Why don't you bring him along? In fact, I'll borrow a military aircraft and be at your place in twenty."
With that they hung up, everyone excited at the prospect of a vacation. The plane ride was a bit awkward, what with Donald not wearing pants, but they still somehow managed to make the trip fun. It wasn't a long flight anyway. Not fifteen minutes passed before they were at some kind of jungle retreat.
"I'm just going to go out to the store and pick up a few things," Lara declared. “Anyone want to come?"
"No, I see a beach and my contract states that I have to dramatically come out of the water at least once. How about we catch up later for supper?"
"Sounds good, I have some important reading to do for my next role," Donald agreed in his barely comprehensible speech.
It wasn't long before Lara found herself deep in the jungle, thinking about what she'd serve for dinner when out of nowhere two tigers attacked her! She pulled out her expertly concealed weapons and fired every round she had into the animals. When they finally fell limp, she smiled to herself. At least she had something to cook for dinner.
Daniel on the other hand was busy dramatically appearing out of the water. Several women were staring at him, most by now wondering if he'd completely lost his mind. Apparently there were only so many times a man in short shorts could burst from the surf without looking weird. He did however come across several giant tiger shrimp which he decided he would catch and share with his companions at dinner.
Both humans met up at the resort proudly displaying their catches. What a delicious meal they'd have! But when they tried to get into their cabin, a large frying pan came flying at them.
“Method actors,” Daniel sighed, picking up the frying pan.
“We can always cook over a fire,” Lara suggested.
And that’s what they did. That night, all three enjoyed tiger steaks and tiger shrimp. It was a good day.
Clearly this story is the reason I had all of those pictures.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
As always, I got some odd compliments that I simply must share with you. My grandma said my teeth were so perfect they were like dentures. She assured me that was a good thing. Even if it wasn’t a good thing, I know (thanks to years of pain and suffering) that my teeth are flawless. I also apparently have small eyes. That one is a mystery to me. My glasses are like friggin’ binoculars, if anything they should have been magnified. To a lesser degree than Professor Trelawney mind. Still, I like my eyes so I’m choosing to take it as a compliment. Particularly since my glasses are thick enough for a Trelawney effect.
Anyway, dinner went well. It was pleasant, we all laughed, ate, typical Thanksgiving. Although I somehow wound up with the honour of making dinner for my mom’s birthday on the seventeenth. Crap! How did that happen? Swear to God, if anyone steps into the kitchen on that day I will brain them with a potato masher. After years of working in restaurants, I get very upset when someone messes up the rhythm of my kitchen.
But I guess I should talk about what I’m thankful for. I know it’s a bit early, way early for some of you, but here’s my list. (In no particular order)
I’m thankful both my grandparents, even though one of them is a supreme grouch, could make it to dinner tonight. They both had serious health scares this year. Since they’re the only grandparents I’ve known I’m happy they’re still around.
Even though it pisses me off and creates more stress than I need, I’m grateful for school because I love learning and I can afford to when a lot of people can’t. I’ve met some wonderful people there and made some truly great friends that I wouldn’t have otherwise met.
I’m so profoundly thankful that my passion for writing has returned full force. I feel fuller than I have in at least three years. It’s given me my little blog universe that I love and a novel that is turning into so much more than I ever expected.
I’m thankful for my family. Even when they hurt me, I know they don’t realize it. And they are there for me in their own ways. They do the best they can which is all anyone can do.
I’m currently thankful that I have no job. I haven’t felt this free in two years. I feel like I have my life back and I have so much more energy and time to spend on things I enjoy.
I’m thankful for everything that’s gone wrong because it’s forced me to rise to the occasion and grow. Things could be a hell of a lot worse, but they aren’t and good things are coming.
I could go on. I’m Miss Sarcasm on the best of days and sure, I can be pretty negative. But I also know that my life is pretty damn good. So, there you have it. Thanksgiving 2010.
Friday, October 8, 2010
But the weirdness doesn’t end there. I hadn’t done my laundry so I was getting a little desperate. I threw on anything that matched and was clean because I was in a hurry and ride-less. About five minutes into my walk to the bus stop, I realized what I was wearing. Black pants with a very subtle goldish pinstripe, orange shirt and because it was windy and cool, a black hooded sweater. Not the best outfit I know. But in true Chandler fashion, I took a moment and asked “Could I BE any more Halloween?” It was too late to go home and change so I had to deal with it. No one seemed to notice, or at least they didn’t say anything. Until I got to my appointment of course. I wasn’t even in the office yet and the advisor promptly told me: “Why, you look like Halloween! Your orange shirt matches our candy bowl!” Yay... (Just so you know I actually think it’s pretty funny).
Just to make things even weirder, because you always can, I happened to be contemplating death this morning while eating breakfast. I don’t know why. Seriously. It just popped into my head. Anyone out there had a near-death experience? Or at least been in a situation where severe injury could/should have occurred?
Again, I don’t know why, but I started thinking of all the times I should have been seriously hurt or killed, but well, obviously wasn’t. Here are the incidents I’ve experienced:
Okay, the last one wasn’t THAT dangerous, but I’m hoping not to add to this list. Actually, now that I’m looking at it, four of those happened around the same person and three of them were caused by the same person. Why the hell were we friends again? Anyway, don’t hang out with him anymore. I’m only responsible for one of these... I’ll let you guess which. I will admit to it if you guess right.
Each time I walked away unscathed. And I now think that one person is an asshole. Oddly enough, not because he’s almost killed or severely injured me. Let’s add that to the list of weird things shall we?
See, weird day. I’m just saying weird because this is another post filled with random things.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Here’s the interesting bit. To me anyway. The essay question was to close read a passage of the novel we’re reading, still Cry, the Beloved Country. In case you’re wondering, close reading is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Otherwise put, I suppose you could call it over analyzing. It’s certainly what the kids at my placement called it. Anyway, I was going over the passage I’d chosen and came across a line mentioning “dead streams coming to life with blood”. Good times. That’s when I had a You Know You’re an English Major When moment. Did anyone else think of the Bible? You can tell me if you did. With that thought in mind, I hopped up to my room, grabbed my Bible off my shelf and flipped to Exodus. Yup, I have a Bible and I know how to use it! Turns out Moses changing the water of the Nile into blood was the first of the ten plagues. Having confirmed my idea, my argument started taking shape. So I’m type, type, typing away and then I get an idea and would you believe it, another You Know You’re an English Major When moment. Back to my Bible I went, this time flipping to Genesis. Needed to know about when God chucked Adam and Eve out into the world to suffer.
Of course when my family members got home, one at a time, and saw me at the dining room table with the Bible sitting nearby, questions arose! It was a little annoying actually. I think too few people realize that being an English major at some point requires you to read a vast array of seemingly random material. The Bible for instance. A background in Greek and Roman mythology is also indescribably useful. Which is why I have a seemingly random collection of books and articles. You can never tell what will be useful. Especially since English can be well... as broad as you let it be.
After four years, I can’t help it anymore. I’ve been trained. Makes watching The Simpsons funnier. Yup, four years at university and I come out of it with an enhanced ability to understand shows like The Simpsons. Twenty three thousand dollars wasted on tuition? I think not!
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The first offender is Coughs-a-Lot Girl.
Cough, cough, blows nose, waits. Fifteen seconds expire. Cough, cough, blows nose, waits. That was the soundtrack for the majority of class. I understand not wanting to miss class, but if you’re that sick, keep your germy butt at home. I just lost it half way through her serenade and passed a note to my sister, just to make sure I wasn’t the only one it was bothering. This is what my note said:
Lauren: I want to go home. Or, kick her in the throat.
Sister: THROAT! THROAT! THROAT! (I actually laughed way too hard and loud)
Clearly, it wasn’t just me. I then doodled a girl getting her throat kicked in. My sister return-doodled a girl with a shoe shaped hole in her throat. Yes, we are that mature.
Jingle Boots was the next to push my buttons.
Who the hell attaches a bell to their boots!? Really, an actual, functioning bell! I’m sitting in psych for educators, last class of the day and I keep hearing a bell jingle. Finally I locate the source; a girl who apparently has restless leg syndrome. So annoying. And she wasn’t in a traditional caroller’s garb. I might have forgiven her if she had been.
Group Activities had me dangling by one finger on that Cliff of Sanity.
My professors in psych are trying to make the course more fun. Which I would appreciate if I weren’t so tried and eager to get home. Tonight, we had to get into groups of five or six and discuss which parenting style we were familiar with. We had to choose between authoritative, authoritarian, neglectful, and the passive one. After that we had to discuss how our experiences with these styles would affect our teaching. It’s a second year class and I’m a fourth year. I know no one. I really want to talk about my family history with complete strangers. My group felt the same way and our discussion was quite short.
All very minor things that wouldn’t usually bother me. Okay, the coughing would bother me. That was just ridiculous. Oh well. The day is over, Coughs-a-Lot Girl and Jingle Boots are nowhere near me. The group activity is done. I can chill for a bit then go to bed and sleep. Glorious sleep!
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
I did my usual personal reading, which unfortunately is online. It’s a guilty pleasure if you will. I then did some research and readings for class. The readings were kind of nightmarish. Why they have to be so long I don’t know. Would you like to see me perform some magic?
I have here, in my right hand, a history article that is thirty eight pages long. Watch as I throw it behind me and shrink it down to three sentences. THROWS ARTICLE BACKWARD. “For the first half of his reign, King George III was disliked because he went about losing wars, colonies and money. The second half of his reign saw a dramatic change. He became insane, prompting papers to portray him as the happy farmer/patriarch of the nation.”
TADA! (I gave up at page 27 but read the conclusion and I don’t think I’m missing much. The joke will be on me.)
Anyway, I pretty much decided to put school work aside at that point. Glee was on anyway and I have promised to be a faithful viewer. I have to say, I really liked this episode. I was really excited about it because they were doing what is probably my favourite song. Yup, “I Want to Hold Your Hand” is my favourite song (I think that says a lot about me...). To be honest, I was expecting something completely different because I knew Kurt would be singing it. But what they did was still really great. I guess that’s the staple of a truly good song. It has several possible meanings.
There is another reason why I liked this episode so much though. I remember feeling like Kurt and not believing in God because of what he’d done to me. It wasn’t that long ago, but somehow it feels like forever. It’s really only been... four years. I can remember praying, praying a lot. And I remember feeling a lot like Sue and feeling like it didn’t matter how much I prayed because who was really listening. Thankfully, I’ve gotten passed that point in my life. I always appreciate the reminders of where I started. Usually because I don’t feel like I’m moving at all. But looking back helps me see how far I’ve come.
Not really an uplifting post today... Sorry about that. I just feel overwhelmed with stuff right now. Is it strange that I kind of missed this feeling? Yeah, it’s weird. Don’t even answer that.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Robert (putting down his book): Lauren, what is it I’m supposed to do exactly?
Lauren: Sorry what are we talking about?
Robert: You were talking about Thanksgiving and I know that I’m supposed to make some grand appearance for your grandparents. So... what am I supposed to do?
Lauren: Oh. I dunno. Act like... a boyfriend?
Robert: Lauren, I don’t even know what I look like.
Lauren: Dammit... I guess I should imagine that. So that you aren’t just some... foggy whatever. Uh... slam together the guys from Grey’s. That’s what you shall look like.
Robert: Why the guys from Grey’s?
Lauren: First thing I thought of? And it must be said, they do have a pretty cast.
Robert: Does that also make me a doctor?
Lauren: ...Sure, why not. Frank didn’t even have a career so go you!
Robert: Is there anything else I should know?
Lauren: My grandpa’s deaf so speak clearly.
Robert: Okay. Should I help him out with that? I mean, since I’m a doctor.
Lauren: Let’s not get carried away. I think at this point all they really expect from me is to have a guy physically be present. Although you being pretty helps. Would you be offended if I said, all you have to do is be there and be pretty?
Robert: Uh... mildly? Can I talk at least?
Lauren: Of course! I tried to avoid that reality with Frank because he was more the artsy type and he looked like a hippy beatnik. My grandpa is conservative. He probably hunted hippy beatniks. But you should be fine!
Robert: Good to know.
Lauren: By the way, I know you have more to offer than just your looks. I just don’t know you yet. I’m too tired to keep talking about this now, so we’ll continue your training tomorrow.
Ugh... the one benefit of Frank is that he knew all of this crap. Maybe I should just sit them down together so I can sleep more. I was reading Cry the Beloved Country and fell asleep on the couch. Unfortunately I also fell asleep on my wrist. Maybe I could get Robert to look at that.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
In the end, I figured the easiest way to incorporate rainbow colours into brownies was to make a white brownie. That in itself turned into quite the learning experience. White brownie, white chocolate right? Turns out white chocolate has a really, really different consistency than brown chocolate. Also, it does not mix well with butter. The original recipe calls for the chocolate and butter to be mixed together, then placed to the side to cool before being added to the rest of the ingredients. It kept separating. What I learned today...
Anyway, once that issue was resolved (with a serious mixer and sheer determination), everything else seemed to be going well. I separated about a cup and a half of the batter into six bowls and dyed it. Kind of funny that it’s all white at first isn’t it?
And then came the moment of truth. I had the bottom layer in the pan, I’d just poured in the top layer and now it was time to add the colour. The plan was to marble it. By the time I’d finished, it looked like what I imagine brownies on acid would look like. Psychedelic much?
Into the oven they went and when they came out (ha, pride brownies) there was one very obvious problem. They were really, flat. And the bottom didn’t look cooked enough. I rushed back to my recipe and looked over the steps. I didn’t get very far before I found my mistake. Step two actually. I’d forgotten to beat the living shit out of the eggs before adding anything else to them. My mom explained the importance of this step and all I could really say was: “Well, damn.”
One quick trip out to the grocery store later and I was starting over. This time with help from my mom. The second batch looks much better. Less brownies on acid too. So, made a batch for home and one for school. Not that I should be saying this, but if ever there was a diet buster, this brownie well, it takes the cake. The white chocolate alone is a heart attack waiting to happen.
SO, COME ON DOWN AND BUY YOUR VERY OWN DELICIOUS, far from nutritious, NOT A TOTAL DISASTER BROWNIE! WE’RE SUPPORTING SOMETHING I just don’t remember what.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
But on to the new random words that amuse me so.
Relagive: Verb. An exchange of relatives. Popular around such holidays as Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. Disagreeable relatives are given to families who can look after them appropriately.
In a sentence: No, Aunt Betty isn’t here this year, we relegave her to the Winstons down the street.
In a sentence: My outdebu was great! Even my math teacher was there!
Tarovexa: Expletive and Noun. A vexing tarot card reading. Usually when the client questions his or her fortune teller.
In a sentence: You question me! Madam Fortuna?! Tarovexa! That’s what this is, tarovexa!
Corisoni: Noun. Heart shaped pasta.
In a sentence: Throw more corisoni into the pot!
That is unfortunately where my creativity ends today. Tomorrow I’ll be experimenting with brownie dough. I’m making Pride brownies for another freaking bake sale. I don’t know where the profits go for this one. Anyway, I decided the brownies would have six colours. I think the most logical way is to make a white brownie (oxymoron or what!) and add the colours later. Fingers crossed.
Friday, October 1, 2010
This latest run in with a human has reinforced my desire to live on a private island alone (I don’t know where yet) that people will only be allowed to visit by invitation. Those who anger me while on my island will be thrown into a shark pit. I was debating crocodiles for a while. At the moment I’m leaning toward crocodiles. I think they would be more practical. If you’re wondering how I’m going to feed myself, if I can afford to live alone on a private island, I’m pretty sure I can afford to have food flown in. Now, how do I amass this fortune...?
On the other hand, if I did live on a private island, I wouldn’t have run into Sandy or Ian and they wouldn’t have made me feel better and given me hugs. Yes, I let them hug me. What! I like them. Good people. It also gave me a chance to check out the aboriginal services office and I have one word to describe it (because it’s new): NICE! Of course, I do feel a little out of place, what with my being well... the poster child for the effectiveness of sunscreen. Oddly enough, if one was to go back... five generations or so, my great (so on and so forth) grandmother was Métis. Don’t know how that happened but it’s probably about as strange as how my family is French but our ancestor is Irish. That’s what’s great about Canada. Seriously. Everybody is part something else and you just never know.
Aside from all that, I went out to dinner with my parents tonight and was informed that next weekend would be our Thanksgiving turkey dinner. My grandparents are coming over which means I’m going to have to cart out my imaginary boyfriend again. They’re going to be expecting Frank, but I broke up with him when he started cheating on me with Maggie. I can’t even keep an imaginary boyfriend... no wonder I’m still single. Anyway, I have found his replacement. Robert is currently hanging out on my bookshelf. I figure if I keep him there he’s far enough from Maggie’s influence and too terrified to come down in case he runs into Cooper or Mr Plunk. A girl can only have so many imaginary boyfriends I tell you. Two is my limit! I should probably install railings to make sure Robert doesn’t accidentally fall to his death... that would be bad.
Holy crap that was random... All true, but random.