I'll Explain Everything to the Geeks

Hi friends. I am in a mildly bitter but also hopeful and very very full mood, in case you were wondering. Yesterday I ran 7.5 kms, then did yoga, then climbed trees and walked around all afternoon. What did you do hmmmmmmm? Today I walked around a bit, made cookies then came over here to sit around and pretend to study. That about sums it up. I'm getting pretty good at saying I will do things, not doing them because I "have to study" and then sitting around staring at walls. I am also pretty damn good at not getting up in the morning. (Can you hear the bitter coming out?)

I suddenly got hit with this wave of lonely. I cannot study at all right now. I will be ravished by this Northwest Coast Art exam tomorrow morning. All I know is that Tsimshian masks have truncated pyramid cheeks and pointy chins, Kwakwaka'wkh masks have red rimmed eyelids. Unfortunately that combined knowledge might add up to half a question.
Seeing as I am on a random family's computer at the moment, all of their pictures are of the kids. I think the one above is especially good.

I think this may be illegal.

Ba da ba ba

ER, you don't give yourself enough credit. I would hardly call you a passive observer in a lot of circumstances; you dance and laugh and perform silly, half-drunken stunts with the best of them. And always, everyone you meet loves you. That's a talent, girl.

I'm a-sittin' in the library, having scored a seat on the stairs by the massive glass wall overlooking the pond. Which is choked with algae, by the way. The day is dark and dreary, and it makes me feel cold, but oh, well-Victoria.

Poor Grover got stuck outside last night and yowled so loud that the neighbours turned on their lights to see what was going on. So I was that abashed cat owner standing in the doorway in nothing but an overlarge T-shirt, ushering Grover inside and assuring the neighbourhood that all was well. Argh.

I haven't heard when I'm supposed to be heading up north yet, and I keep having dreams that I'm pregnant. Wierd. And a little scary.

Today is michaels birthday. Tonight I exploded myself with cheesecake and curry. Can i also say that its been nearly three years since the c-man and I had a kiss? Nuts. Baby, we are growing old too fast. I dont know what else to say. i had all sorts to say really, but they just escaped my ears. Maybe another time?

Then You Try To Do What You Did Before.

My stomach is rumbling. So is the whole house for that matter. They are doing laundry upstairs. This afternoon I really did consider going Somewhere and doing Something, I swear. Just I started reading. Then I started writing something out, then I started pulling yoga poses, and I didn't stop in time. I was going to go watch the Debate at Our Friends with Cable's house but things change quick. I really cannot stand Stevie Harper enough to listen to him speak, at all. Asshole.

I saw this talk that he gave a few party members not that long ago. One of them filmed it on their phone or something and sent it to the liberals and CBC. He speaks like a dictator. He said something along the lines of stamping out the socialists. If he gets back into office I will cry myself to sleep until infinity.

In other, non-political news: I got dragged out to "nineties night" last night, except we didn't get in. We stood in this line that we were not really supposed to stand in for about half an hour, listened to these really drunk guys screaming about the Black Hawks, keeping an eye on this guy who I know to be a rapist with the corner of my eye. Being bored and sober and la-dee-da. But yeah, Nick Findler was in the lineup, like three people from me. I know this because the guy standing behind me kept screaming his name a-la BBC Nature Hour marmot, and he finally turned around. Just my luck that the rapist is like 7 feet tall and Bulky. But this isn't funny. This is a man that punched his ex-girlfriend in the face and dragged her upstairs at a party to the sound of his cheering buddies. I have this on good authority.

Also looking good for getting a job at the Maltwood, starting in May. The curator said (quote) "this looks great" in reference to my cover letter.

That cranky woman with the missing cat just came by. They set up a "cat trap" in our side yard and are going to come by every 45 minutes to check it. Apparently they've seen the cat in our yard a couple of times. She asked if I could keep an eye on it. Clearly the cat does not like you, woman.

Fucking Bruised

I feel like a spectator. I like going to concerts and standing still, watching the music, watching the dancing. People think that I am shy and that this inhibits my ability to let loose and dance. The truth is, I am afraid I will miss something if I do. Maybe I am what people are afraid of when they are too shy to shake it up.

Last night we found an oddly placed rope swing hanging over the toxic green harbour downtown. The three that I was with did not even hesitate, they climbed down slowly but determinedly, they stepped gingerly over the chain rope barrier, they swung for a few minutes before coming back up. It didn't even occur to me that this was something I should try out too until later. Maybe my purpose in life is to watch and record, to analyze and to store these things in my mind's eye. I can always remember people's names, even if I have never met them.

In this way I am an extrovert: I like to be where the action is so that I can see it happening. I want to meet people, to know them, to get their essence down even I will never share anything with them.

All of this about myself too. Just had a thought and pounced on the available keyboard. You talk about you for a bit, ok?

One of these mornings...

Hey is that forest monster by any chance from the movie LEGEND featuring Tom Cruise and his poneytail? Favourite of my youth: it's over the top rediculous.

Yesterday Brett and went on twenty kilometre bike adventure (finally) and I pulled this awesome stunt where I hit this unexpected curb going down-hill fast and imprinted the handlebars in this lovely bruise shape on my thigh while laying flat on my back. Brett was concerned, I laughed hysterically. Other highlights include getting screamed at by this guy for not getting off my bike while crossing the street, getting stared at by some posh woman on a roadbike, seeing th bicycle police catch up with some guy breaking the bicycle law. Fast times on the Galloping Goose Trail, man.

Today will be spent cleaning. I am done school. Skype date at 4pm Shark, other people talked to Tyson

Forest Monster.

About a half hour ago, I thought I was going to do something relaxing and go down to the beach to listen to the waves and enjoy the moon. I walked around the house to go down to the beach and within feet of the staires I had to go down, I hear noises in the bush. The picture above immediatly came to mind. Or someone was going to rape me, which could be worst, depending on the situation. So I said to my said "freaky"and the noises started up again, the crunching of the leaves and bushes. Watch it be a deer, who knows, but still. So I came back inside, and with nothing to do, I wrote a blogpost.

Background music? http://hypem.com/#!/item/18vdt / http://tinyurl.com/3b45hn3

Btw, why did you text me and not tyson about the skype-up?

North to South East to You

I bought Fucking Healthy Cookies

The parents were here today. They bought me food. Then they brought us to that used bookstore with the chaotic stacks and stacks, which was just depressing because a) I have no money and b) the store had no trace of George Saunders. And the only Judy Budnitz book they had looked rediculous. But it's ok because now there is a butternut squash sitting on the counter next to a pineapple and a heap of tomatoes.

Any old how. I am on my 9793rd word of 25 pages and 9 weeks of writing. I may have said this before, but if you ever need advice on your diasporic Indian film choices, I got your back. Although you may not want to lean on me to heavily: by the time this is done with who knows how much substance I will have.

I wanna walk on your wavelength

Clean, dry socks. Orange sherbert. A new Katy Perry song on repeat (sorry about that).

Another hungover workday.

No more classes.

Awww, yeah.