Too dressed up for YOUR MOM

I don't know who the guy is in this photo, but I really love that sky. Photo cred to Taylor.

Having snagged a cozy cubicle in the library, I'm just watching people straggle in with desperate faces and book lists, attempting to salvage something of their wasted Reading Break. Or maybe that's just me.

Last night I had the craziest dream, featuring prison time, running from the law, road blockades, underground houses, boys with white, painted faces, and a roommate who generously agreed to hide us. When my alarm went off, I realized that my blankets had been thrown clear across the room, and felt...dissatisfied, somehow. Almost as if there was an underlying message that I hadn't quite been able to grasp. But it was probably just the pizza before bedtime.

Yesterday morning was mostly spent in a small art store, re-framing some water damaged paintings with the help of a soft-spoken fellow named Rob? Andy? Anyway, a whole bunch of people came trouping in, each of them with 5-6 paintings under their arms, clamoring for help. The rain was a-pouring down, and most of us looked like drowned rats. Cue the older, perfectly coiffed lady in a cream-coloured suit and silk scarf. "Please, everyone, respect my workplace. You are dripping water, and that is dangerous!" Anyway, my paintings look great, I have a newfound respect for the colour plum. And a special raw wood frame has been ordered to fit an acrylic piece depicting a storm over Lake Laberge; all that remains to be found is a suitable varnish.

Got to talk to the folks in Revelstoke last night. It was one of those conversations that had to be finished by e-mail, as his cell phone died midway and all the important stuff was left until the end. Anyway, a mid-February trip there is in the works, and the excitement is running high, even if it is a good 3 months away. We all need something to look forward to.

Sarah, have you read 1984? It's one of those books that is a pain to get through, but once you finish it, you recognize references EVERYWHERE, it's crazy. Orwell at his finest, or worst, depending on how much you enjoy depression.

Also, for the more general public, if you have not yet read Thomas King's green grass, running water, get on it.     

written yesterday, posted today+ tips on how to survive the storm.

I've been living off apples and buttertarts all morning. Or at least for the last three hours. And I'm only eating apples because I've over indulged in buttertarts and I'm trying to lie to myself, that because I've chose to eat more fruit, that everything will be alright.

So while I cut off pieces of apples, and set it down on this cookbook called "The Borowski Cookbook", I'll tell you about some really exciting things.
We;ve finished the presskit (more or less). All that is left is the cd, we need to copy, slip it and include a tiny list of the songs included on it. We need to get some new business cards, that include the logo. I need to finish the master list of festivals, and we all need to finish labeling the manila envelopes to be sent out. That was how my day was spent yesterday. I woke up in a blanket fort. I woke up too early as usual. I couldn't get the wifi to work on my netbook, so I decided to spend the majority texting cyrus back and forth and reading the rest of this book. I finished the book.

The night before all that, I went on my first clubbing experience. It wasn't even though. It was to see the competition for this talent show, and feel a eerie vibe while men who were way to old to even be in the place try to catch your eye, while you look around trying to find something to look at. It dragged on, and we ended up at a&w after midnight. I owe Forrest or Carmanagh 3 dollars.

Now it's remembrance day. It's cold, and the services are going to be happening in less then an hour. I haven't decided whether I want to participate or not. i'll tell you eventually.  I started reading "Homage to Catalonia" by George Orwell. I started reading it before the house woke up this morning, and I ended up reading the first chapter outloud. I ended up talking to myself when I had no clue what the definition of the word was. I had this old pencil in one hand and the book in the other, while i paced the room, repeating words that made no sense ( the sense of it in a dictionary someplace else). Words like "Servile", "Proletarians"(well, this word rings a bell, but i still have no clue what it is), "bugle-calls" and "Porron" (george explained this one in the text, but i would love to see a picture of one) left me without a state of clear mind.

I started reading this book to spite cyrus in a way that doesnt really matter, and I doubt he would ever know. He brought up the last book I was reading(a small history of tractors in the ukraine) was very "feminist" (nothing wrong with that, except it totally wasn't) and the fact he thinks that, really bugs me. The book did focus on woman, but only in the way the narrator of the story was a lady. the bad guy was a lady. and there was a mending of relationships through sisters. All because of this ukrainian blond, twink who wanted to steal the millions (not really) of their widowed father. The family acted. And coincidently the family was female.

So I chose george orwell (eric arthur blair) as something very far away form feminism.

.... as for the update from the storm, I survived it. with a bbq, a roaring fireplace and various candles displaced all over the place. the radio was playing loud and clear too. it was one of the moments where i wish i had the love of my current life in my arms <3 ...Maybe next year.

Too Dressed Up For YOUR FACE

I need a brain break. Been writing about Leonardo (cue the di Caprio jokes, someone on the bus did.) and flowers and locus amoenus and reading about breasts in cookery, in stupas, in cushions, in bowls, in childbirth, in Thailand.
May have totally forgotten the respectful half of today's biz-ness. Saw a pal on the bus all dressed up. She and her boyfriend were all decked out in wool formal wear and gum boots and going home after the canon ceremonies downtown. We talked about school work, about that new video game that everyone's raging on. Skygrim? Skytrain?  Anyway sounds a little freaky to me. I won't explain it cuz I'll get it wrong.
Anyway on the sched for tonight is non-stop incredible reading-writing combo act. Tomorrow I am cooking breakfast for 11, and serving it, and prepping it. By myself. A little nervous in here.
Oh, last night I saw Dan Mangan. Something about that guy makes me want to climb into his lap and give him a  lingering hug. Maybe because a lot of his songs are about rejection. And then he does something like climb the speakers to the highest point  on stage and thrash around a bit.
This song. Is the kind of song that makes ME want to climb something tall and thrash around. Or throw paint and tear off my clothes. Or mud wrestle.
You'll see.

Too dressed up for the library

Today, this university campus is silent beyond belief. However, this didn't stop one girl from wandering up to the third floor and loudly discussing billing options on her cell phone, distracting the few occupants of the SILENT study area. Sheesh.

Enough negativity. Last night, the roommate and I went to see a movie, but got distracted and ended up playing pool downtown. We are both equally bad, so it was quite fun. Overheard the cashier/guy behind the counter complaining about his other job at Bluenotes, which is apparently located underneath a gym. "And when all those big strong guys are lifting weights and shit, I swear someday they're going to drop right through the ceiling!" That would be amusing, but it's unlikely. Can you imagine pairs of frightened eyes peering over stacks of plaster-covered clothing, while large, muscled men picked themselves up, bewildered, dumbbells still in hand? That's where exercise gets you, it's a dangerous thing.

Much More Difficult for Me

Just saw an online add for "Vegetables Approved by Your Ancestors." Who would buy veggies from the internet, for one thing.
Kat showed me this song. This guy is in tents. He must have had his pride pissed on recently, you don't just naturally sing with that much pain. Note how red his tongue is...


Talked to her brother about the book that he is writing. Apparently its an American road-trip/coming of age story. He's thinking of killing them all off at the end. Isn't that always the temptation though? The ultimate ending.
As you know, November is the pissy mood month. So Gotye is about right. As is comfort food. Hopefully I can muster the brain power to write in complete sentences. Three papers for next week, baby.

I hate smokers.

How's your weekend going? Here, I feel slow, but productive. There's something to always get done, even though it will take me hours of just sitting in the same spot, I'm getting through it. I've blown through the majority of my list.

Something that was on my list this morning, was to get more rocks for the edging of this garden patch I've just cleaned out. I've planted garlic in it. But it was still lacking that distinctive feature. The line written on my list said to "go for your morning walks, why not make its so you can get a bag of rocks at the same time? " It seemed smart and productive. I found a canvas bag, and set to it. The eighty something steps down to the beach. This was 10 minutes after I woken up, seriously. I made sure of it that it was the first thing I was going to do this morning.  See though, i don't know whether that was the smartest thing to do. I felt faint. I went down the stairs, but bush wacked it on my up for the hell of it. I nearly feel over to the side, losing balance at least 6 times. The beach was beautiful that time of morning.  Too many birds and french creek looked like a prime place to have breakfast. ( mental note, once you come back for the christmas holidays, we should buy a bunch of croissants and nutella and take a thermos of hot beverage down to french creek for breakfast) + laura, you can come too, but I really doubt you;ll be in the oceanside area, but the love is still there.

I was slightly hungover this morning. Not really though. Just the impression of a headache. It was Forrest's 19th birthday last night. I rarely saw him during that party.  He was outside by the fire, hanging out with bashu and a million other people that i've seen their faces before, but never once heard their names. Bashu was there though, I haven't seen him for ages.

Before all that though, during the day time, the marimba mixed band (members from our band and the 8-13 aged boys band, well, one member) played this random gig. Carmanaghs mom is running for school trustee in area F (our area) and held this "soap box" shout out event. Old school. You stand on this make-shift box, and yell out your rants to the world. Everyone did it too. It was hilarious too, this one old grouchy guy, went up and started to go on a rant about how they should be bringing back mining and tree cutting to the area. Give young families a reason to live here, to prosper, so they would produce kids that would go to our schools, and thus any school closure is prevented. He seemed so sure of himself, and the conviction in his voice left a void in the air when he was done. Everyone clapped, but mine was the loudest. Even if i didn't't want it to be, it was. To readers reading this, it's not some retarded metaphor, it's actually just because my clap is really loud.

I agree on him in some accepts though.. Bring something other then tourism to the area. The fisheries are dying out (though in fanny bay, the oysters are prospering) and there isn't much to do. Bring something special to the area.

Other then that, nothing new is happening. There is a girls night, tonight at jasmindas (wish me luck, i've been feeling unsociable). They are watching hot fuzz and playing a game I've never heard of. My plan today is to find Internet, and find the lyrics to "danza kudro" and be this impressive spanish mistress and learn the words to it. It's in spanish. Just because i can.

ARgghghghghgh

november 2end was my brothers and dads birthday!! intense!!! happy birthday.
It's been cold lately, I don't know its similar weather down in victoria, but it;'s cold here. Leaves are falling everywhere.
I spent the day at the carson's residence (seriously, all day, 10-6) getting and trying to work on the presskit, we've made massive headway. Though, it was alot of waiting around. Don't take me wrong, I'm thankful that carm's mom was helping us out, but it was a slow process. I froze slowly in time spent. It's been one of the few days too, that i've spent the day hungry. I didn't want to eat yonder, because i was expecting this gigantic meal for when I arrived home. But still, it was hard
Other then that though, the days have been surprisenly busy. I got this letter from my penpal who lives up the road from sherwood forest. The girl is actually really funny. I like having penpals. Mortimer i mailed you a letter the other day, expect it eventually.

I can see the floor of my bedroom. It's been a forgotten concept. I'm also planning on planting some garlic tomorrow. i kept saying I'll do it, and then it ends up pissing rain, or too cold for words in the morning, or I just don't feel like doing it.  But tomorrow is the day! mark my words.  the words which are slowly spewing from my dry morning lips. my eyes glazed over with the remnants of the mornings sunrise.

har har har har har

and for the november 3erd words: I feel like bitting peoples heads off. I feel like sleeping, and going for a swim too.

Factional leaders independently cultivated ties to particular European colonies

 

E, you sound like you're sixty. "Back in my day, all the kids took PRIDE in their Halloween costumes. There was none of this here STOREBOUGHT business, and we all said please and thank you and kept our eyes downcast because we were too shy to look up...".

Speaking of Halloween, my mother told me that they went and had tea at my Grandma's the night of (she lives in town, and consequently gets actual trick-or-treaters, which does not happen in the boonies, let me tell you) and an older lady who had had a few, ahem, had dressed up her dog and was out collecting candy. Apparently, she walked herself right into the house, introduced the dog, and sat down at the dining room table. My father eventually made her leave, but Grandma was out of her head with worry that the woman would feed chocolate to the dog. Some people.

My current essay has been in progress for a week, and it is not going well. Some information is absent, the sentences are not flowing, and my head won't wrap itself around the topic. Not good. This one may have to take a 2% hit and be handed in Friday afternoon, argh.

Apparently, the woman who received this note was handed it by a stranger who then walked away without saying a word. 

S, I like the pictures from your marimba photoshoot, you look happy.

false alarm and paranoia.

(Paul Herbst)
So I never told you about my Halloween.
The only celebration that I was involved in included some really sad conversations. Friend of mine is not acting himself and he compeletly realizes it. He said he didn't want people to get the wrong impression of him, this person he was being was some lesser version of what he could be. He wanted to cry but he chuckled instead. The girl that he was admittedly using draped herself across his lap, then dumped  a beer on my head.
And sleeping in the unmade bed of an absentee friend. He has moved to a whole other ecosystem.  Anyway by the time I realized it was two in the morning everyone else had apparently done so also and all the cabs in town were occupado.
Woke up at 6:30 in order to be at work for 8, wearing the same outfit as the night before, reaking and hungover on an empty stomach, serving two soft spoken Oktoberfest musicians their coffee and their eggs.
Last night I gave mass amounts of candy away to children who seemed to think they were better than us. I remember being terrified of anyone remotely in the "young and hip" category when I was their age,  which basically included anyone at all who was older/ smarter than I. What happened to the days when kid's Moms sewed them something special to wear out, instead of buying them fuzy animal getups that they would only be able to fit once. What happened to layering against the cold?
Saturday night I went to bed early with a pounding head while people around me comited acts that God apparently frowns upon.
Tonight I will learn about Eskimos and Moravians. Face off of the century.