"So we took apart a rat and rebuilt it as a jellyfish"

That is literally how the radio interview I was listening to just began. A bioengineering prof at Harvard has created a jellyfish that is, by all genetic accounts and purposes, a rat. It's called 'reverse engineering', and they have plans to try to attempt the same thing on stingrays, octopii, ect. Can you imagine how confused this  animal-thing would be, and how odd and surreal you would feel creating it in a lab setting? You would feel like Dr. Frankenstein, albeit with access to shinier, more sterile operating tools.

I'm at home right now, waiting for the shoulder to mend. I walked up a mountain two days ago and shared my lunch with a curious Grey Jay and my dog. Today I went to the local graveyard and walked around the tombstones and recognized all the local names and felt appropriately discombobulated for the setting. A week ago, I went to the National Energy Board hearing on Enbridge and listened to several moving speeches. Many Aboriginal elders, on shaky legs and wearing headdresses beaded in bright colours for them by their daughters and granddaughters, unfurled large genealogical charts and watershed maps. The room smelled like moosehide, and more than one person was in tears.

The photo above is of realgar, an arsenic compound. I didn't take the picture myself; it's available online. Realgar is jet-pink, with orange streaks; when exposed to light and air, it dissolves slowly into a dust called orpiment. This will streak your hands and boots and clothing with crayon-bright colour; it becomes an easy thing, to forget the more poisonous properties of realgar.

Hopefully, my shoulder assessment will be positive on Thursday, and I can do various horrible, destructive things to my shoulder brace and return to work.

I don't want to head back to school, man, and return to grey skies. It's been preying on my mind.

A man in Utah was spotted gamboling around on a cliff, dressed in a goat costume, surrounded by a herd of the real thing. It was assumed that he was eccentric and crazy, but he turned out to just be a hunter making sure that his outfit didn't scare off the animals during hunting season.
    



 

wanna get married?

June 18th was yesterday!

I wanted to draw a picture like this. Mostly because it reminded me of the printing room in the hospital I worked at in Montreal. I was given the job to run down there regularly to tell the lovely men we needed so many of the special posters printed by the head of the day. They recognized my broken french, and it always gave them the hit it was a perfect time to practice their English.

 This is the hospital. This really looks like this is an early morning picture, and what I don't understand is why there isn't the usual hoard of people, buses and whatnot. Because honestly, coming to work at 8/8:30 in the morning, was complete hell. I usually just took the long way, got off 15 minutes before the hospital and walked at the metro. It was good.  There was the prettiest buildings (or homes I guess) and a good park across the street.

How have things been for you? Friday night was spent at this block party in Qualicum which wasn't half bad.I invited Brett and  There was dancing, this cover band playing all the favorites and a bunch of rowdy middleage couples getting drunk off lucky. It was ridiculous. Then we headed out to natalies to paint this wall she wanted, and I painted a small city and slept squished against the wall, not able to stretch out my legs with fear of hitting someone in the head. Woke up, did a show in nanaimo dedicated to all the fathers out there, and then had some glorious coconut gelato while i watched our friends "slack line" across docks on the waterfront (where they crab fish you know?). Weird day, and for the majority of it, I felt gross.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KyYrcLyJppE

Down The Burning Rope

I was supposed to be at this get together for this girl that is moving away an hour and a half ago. Instead I am stuck at home reading my textbook. Shit. Anyway I'm really on here so that I can record my dream, y'all. So last night I was in a shit mood when I went to bed because... just tired I guess. But I dreamed that I was still in this weird shit mood except it was the Super Moon again. Except in this case Super Moon meant that this was the night that the moon was going to crash into Earth, that this was the day finally, and every night the moon had been drawing nearer to the Earth, and everyone was going down to the beach to watch the insane waves and also see if they would survive. And so I was in a shopping mall with... someone. Can't remember. Anyway we were wandering around and then we were separated and the mall closed for the end of the world. And so I went to this crowded beach and that guy with the white shoes who was hitting on Frances at my party was there wearing these huge shiny studed sunglasses and everyone was gathered around him admiring him, and he was giving a speech or something. Either way, all of a sudden the attention was on me and people were yelling at me because I hadn't packed, and didn't I know it was the end of the world??? And I was all pissed off, because what is the point of worldly possessions in a time like that? I tried to tell Marketa about the dream but she was all pissed because I was cutting the cake and it gets dry when we cut it and when it's dry no one eats it so we have to throw it out. I think she was just tired from the buccaneer dance. Apparently it was surreal.

my leg hurtsd

just imagine jumping on trampolines, one after another to this song. Make the mental evening happening at just that hour in the evening in the summer where it's starting to get cold. And you're still wearing shorts.

BETTERLATETHANNEVERJUSTSAYIN

just drafted a letter to the UN Secretary General of operations to Haiti. Look how big my head is!
Apparently we are meeting him for lunch at some point to plan his visit to UVic. Man, its funny because I have no plans of going into foreign aid, really. Maybe these schmoozing skills will come in handy for my artist wooing days.
Anyway my hands are perfectly clean, thanks. I skipped out on morning class to lull and eat and eat and lull, because I recently realized that it has been several weeks since I have had the morning to myself.

Gotta go watch a postmodern film about a man who's wife is killed in a freak accident involving a white swan and a woman with no legs. Or so says IMDB. Wish me luck on keeping a straight face.

My desk is being eaten alive by mugs.

The Divine Comedy

I just want big, clean windows.

Here's a quick catch-up too. I'm glad summer school isn't driving you too crazy, is sabo doing summer school too? Amber would be a cool summer roommate. Who knows, maybe you guys could be included on the scuba thing. Up island here, the sun has been shining and I had the cd release party, plus some family from the great province of Manitoba come up. Of course she came up when my family were having not the easiest time with the money, and of course, like my grandfather, flashed the paper, and bought everything in sight. Making my parents feel like they should repay her. It was weird. But of course her stay was bittersweet,because I haven't seen this woman in at least 12 years, and she was (other then the money aspect) alright to be around.

The cd release party happened with a couple bangs. The day started out with me waking up at 4:30 in the morning, to finish painting this backdrop to be used that the event later that night. I remember how I had this... over-exaggerated force to push myself out of bed, and then, the panic rush of finding a sweater and getting outside as soon as possible to get as much done. It was freezing, and to add to it, that morning I promised c-man that I would call him and talk some things out. So here I was, frozen, hands barely able to move, rushing to get this painting done (or at least something) and yelling at my boyfriend at 5 in the morning. Of course, we worked it out, and I had enough time to have a shower... Which felt good. I then rushed to load the marimbas with jasmine and rob at 830 and we headed off for our first gig of the day in nanaimo at the waterfront. We made money and then more rushing home to gather up the bounty of decorating props to be used at the evening event.

I wish I had photos to show you guys, the decorations turned out great. Twinkle lights, lanterns, a long table down the room with flowers in glass vases. It felt romantic. Like a warm hug that I wanted to stay around forever. But of course, I was tired and more exhausted then anything.  The feelings of romance and warm hugs, soon turned to this slowly over-filling bucked of cold loneliness and just " I really don't want to be here anymore" feeling, filled my body .  It  put a weird damper on the evening, and I can safely say the show we preformed that night, wasn't out best. The night before we played at knox, alongside this choir, and got a standing ovation in the middle of the set. That felt good.

Here now, it's saturday and I woke up early and been slowly puttering. I need a shower though, so that's what I'm going to go do. Keep clean girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!

doing alright, doing just fine.

Had to go home from school sick today. Left class after 2 hours of "simple learning" explained... spent to rest of the afternoon bent around a hot water bottle thanking the gods that I was missing yet another lecture on Russian Constructivism. What is it about Capitalists that find Communists and the will to be equal so fascinating yet also so disgusting? Anyway instead I listened to This American Life's interpretation of middle school and how it was the most disgruntling yet formative years in a human American's existence. The Terrible Twelves, slightly less endearing than the Twos.
This one girl at her middle school dance had been asked out by 5 separate lads and had not given any of them a definitive answer. Something that is cute when it is narrated by a twelve year old, prepubescent, voice but just plain promiscuous for everyone else. She was all like "I just wanted to hang out with the girls, you know?" Must  be a looker.

And in my textbook a psychologist described his first love, whose breath always smelled like onions, to the point that he became sexually stimulated every time he smelled onion breath (there was even a diagram...) And how every once in a while he will catch a whiff and be transported back to that place in his teen years...

old films and it smells like dogs still

It's been over a month ladies, what's doing?
I'm writing a paper, of course. Some module in my brain thought it would be brilliant for me to take Summer School, and I guess all the other modules in my brain were to distracted by sex or fried chicken to protest too hard. Ever see Fritz Lang's M? It's got me on this film noir binge. This skinny kid in my class (cinema and modern art movements, obvs.) has seen every movie that the prof mentions in passing, ever. So he'll be like "Anyone ever see Night of the Hunter?" and the kid with his neon lime green shoes does and awkward hand twist as the timid nerds may do.
You know what made my day today? I bought almond milk in Cook Street Village for $1.44!! Do you know how much that shit costs normally? At least a dollar more.
My room has taken on the stinge of that strategically placed green back-pack in the corner. You know, dog smell. Old rope and dirty paws and ALL ThAT JAZZ.
I will leave you with a trailer. I think you can watch this whole movie of youtube if you so desire.
The music is a little crazy and not at all like in the real deal- just so's y'all know.



House Update: Sabo was trying to convince Amber Mac to come live in Kat's room for the summer but she refused on the grounds that she had promised herself she would snorkel everyday. And she can't really do that here...