The Hand

So that merry time is coming, where stress-levels reach Everest heights and exams loom. I now only have two exams left, but the one on Monday will be tough. I simply, literally, did not do any of the reading for the course throughout the entire term. That's hundread of pages to scan in the next five days, and I am going to both work places today, so it's really just thursday through sunday. Bless you, the fourteenth, when all this crap will be over. It doesn't help that I am working all the time, though it's nice that the restaurant likes me well enough to rely on me and extra cash is good, but I worked about 46 hours last week and between two jobs I haven't had a day completely off work in three weeks. The two-ton Hand of Doom is pressing down on me, slowly, inescapably.

Happy (?) Hostess

So I had my first shift hostessing last night. It was kind of an emergency hostessing, because the other girl was sick and my manager called me three hours before my shift. Of course, I didn't have any shoes so I had to run (well, speed walk like hell) downtown and buy some that bruise my toes but look nice and don't fall off. Anyway, the night was a little stressful because of the reservation system on the computer, but taking peoples's coats isn't exactly difficult. I found it most interesting how people treated me differently because I was dressed up instead of in boring foodrunner garb. One man, as I was taking his coat, took off his bowler hat and put it on my head. (Oh ha ha, funny. Or not.) When it was crowded, another guy slipped his arm around my waist to ask me in my ear where the bathroom was, and later a guy did the same thing, smelling my hair, before asking me to get his coat. None of it was overtly sexual or anything terribly insulting, but, um, what are you doing? I'm more annoyed thinking about it now than when it happened, because they let me go right away and then I went on the next guest. And I don't particularly like being called sweetie by strangers.
But that was only three people out of over a hundred that I met that night, and other than that I liked chatting to people and sincerely wishing them a great evening, especially because so many people who come in are here for a special occasion. It makes me happier to constantly be in a good mood for the guests. One of the guys that works there caught me laughing to myself over something and told me that I was a very happy person. But, I'm sure one of these days I'll go to the restaurant ready to strangle someone and then, smiling might not cut it.

Hallowe'en

Erica is valiantly defending herself, Jess is ready to beat someone to a pulp, and Danica has fangs. Man I really love posting pictures. They make my blog look so much more colorful and intriguing.

My Nephew No. 1

Here's a picture I took of my oldest nephew at his third birthday party. He's such a funny kid and I love him to shreds.

The Tyler Stitch

Right now I am avoiding writing my due share of my Nanonovel, but I should update this thing once in a while, I suppose. I think I am obsessed with lists. I updated the "Movies" list on here and I started to get an almost maniacal urge to keep bolding, and bolding, and bolding more, and do more things so I could cross more things off, and go keep reading my book, so I can cross that one of my list of books to read, and I am containing myself. Listening to The Park by Feist to calm my nerves. Bought a black sweater to unravel and make into a scarf for a friend. Yesterday a couple of friends came over and we had a mini-crochet party in my basement. Then my friend who showed me to crochet once last year took a closer a look at my crocheting. I was almost done my third crocheted scarf ever, just putting a border on. She couldn't understand my I had such a hard time counting my stitches, and I couldn't understand how she could crochet just by dipping her needle around, without pulling some of the loops over with your fingers. Turns out I've been crocheting wrong this whole time! I made up this hybrid of knitting and crocheting that makes a very tight crochet weave. Basically I pull the needle around an extra loop than I needed to which made the weave thicker and imposible to do without using your fingers. No wonder. While yes, it will be a bit easier now that I know how to actually, crochet, I'm rather proud that I made up a new stitch. I hereby call it the Tyler, after my godmother, whose scarf I was making at the time.

P.S. It's my 19 and 3/4 birthday today.

New Favourite

This is my new favourite Calvin and Hobbes comic strip. I cut it out and glued it on my folder for my Aboriginal peoples class.

18th Century Harry Potter

So for my Neoclassical and Romantic Literature Class I had to read a most boring book even by my standards--Pamela, by Samuel Richardson. It's marketed as being all about sexual intrigue, etc. That is a lie. The first half of the book, yes, she servant girl is trying to get away from her master that just wants to sleep with her. But she is so virtuous and so sweet and so gentle and so pious and everyone just automatically falls in love with her because she is just so, and halfway through the book the gentleman decides he loves her so much that he will stoop to marry his mother's waiting-maid. And, wonderful, Pamela discovers she loves him after all. And she is happy. And he is happy. And her family is happy. His is not, but soon comes around and then they are happy. And the servants are happy, and...this is the last third-to-half of the novel. But turns out, this was the most popular novel of the 1700s, and people all took sides, and everyone separated into Pamelists and Anti-Pamelists. It was also published in installments, so the popularity grew over a long time and when it was finally published that Pamela and Mr. B. got married, all the church bells tolled in London. It was the Harry Potter of the 18th century! It got parodied a lot, as well, so basically this was the birthplace of fanfiction.

List of Movies to See

This is a list a friend and I came up with, because I love lists and we both love movies. Some of these are for fun, some are because I am pop-culture illiterate, some are fantastic movies we need to see again, and just ones that look interesting. We've already seen a few (bold), and we'll add on as needed because that is the fantastic type of list this is.

Movies to See:
1. Disturbia
2. Hide and Seek
3. The Amityville Horror (original)
4. The Squid and the Whale
5. Nanny Diaries
6. John Q.
7. I'm Reed Fish
8. The Darjeeling Ltd.
9. It's a Wonderful Life
10. Life is Beautiful
11. High School Musical 2
12. White Christmas
13. Hitchcock (8 tracking shots)
14. Kill Bill
15. The Science of Sleep
16. Hercules
17. Everything is Illuminated
18. The Wedding Crashers
19. King Kong (both)
20. Shrek II
21. Dracula
22. Music and Lyrics
23. Notting Hill
24. Hostage
25. Cellular
26. Driving Lessons
27. Hairspray
28. Hocus Pocus
29. Citizen Kane
30. United States of Leland
31. The Sure Thing
32. Half Nelson
33. The History Boys
34. Newsies
35. Venus
36. Feast of Love
37. Meet Me in St. Louis
38. Dan in Real Life
39. A Streetcar Named Desire
40. Being John Malkovitch
41. The Stepford Wives (original)
42. All About Eve
43. Akeelah and the Bee
44. Billy Elliot
45. Thelma and Louise
46. Fracture
47. The Sting

My Own Interpretation of Klimt

Here's a painting I did for a friend's good-bye. I was using a lot of Klimt because it's her favourite, and through this I realized what a gorgeous painter Klimt really is. As for this piece, it's the shortest relationship with a painting I've had by far. I enjoy that some of my mistakes due to late nights and long hours turned into things I really like. I'm thinking of you, Marilee.

Klimt's Trees of Life

Beck in a Coke Commercial

It's October and my last post was about geese. It's been a while. I am back from camp; I had a great time. I worked all summer long and it was exhausting but quirky and I did some different things than I normally do. I got closer to some of the campers and staff, I realized that Yes Drama is the best activity to lead ( well, I only really did Arts and Crafts). I started to look differently at the whole process, and I wanted to get a bigger picture of it all so I succeeded in my goal that way. Some things I realized I'm not sure if I will ever really enjoy as much as I used to, like Rec, but some things have to die I suppose. I'm at school now and my one prof (whose name sounds like Anne Murray) has the loudest, most abrupt laughter I've heard next to Dustin. Today people reacted positively to my creative writing piece! I hate that's it's such a relief in some ways, but it is. One girl just kept saying how she really, really, loved it and would keep it and read over it, that she would read a whole book like this. Wow, it's just so nice to hear that your own opinion of your work isn't total crap and biased like hell. I learnt about muties as well today. And Eponine, from Les Miz. I'm in a complicated process of re-organizing my room now and romanticizing small rooms, but oh well. And in love with the first half of "Shh" by Frou Frou. Funny how not only do you go incycles in what you listen to, but that even songs by an artist you love can fly completely under your radar though you've heard them so many times before, and then one day, it suddenly hits you that this is a great song! Oh, and a guy from my writing class wrote about a song he played with his girlfriend in the car and everyone started bobbing along in other cars, and it was this Coke commercial moment. Someone asked what the song was, and he said Beck's "Que Onda Guero" which I of course know and love, and completely surprised me. I love connections. Now I wonder if I can post pictures?

Surprise! It's Geese!

So today as I was biking to Workplace No. 2, I was minding my own business when the river rudely interrupted me by flooding my path. Not like, Oh here's a puddle to make things interesting! No, the that bend in the path was now a little pond, complete with geese. There was a couple of adults and a bunch of teenagers by the scruffy look of them. But they were still pretty cute. Besides the fact that they made me late, I thought it was funny. The younger ones kept sputtering around, like they kept inhaling water through the wrong throat pipe, and at one point the goose (I guess they might have been ducks, who knows) who was first with the kids pecked furiously at the other good-for-nothing, who was off preening in some sun.
I took some pictures with my phone and for once, the damn thing came in handy. Proof of a first time for everything, I guess

Haha Zero Time

OK so I want to call people up and be like, let's go play pool! Let's run! let's hang out in as many Tim Hortons we possibly can in one evening! But I can't cause I've been driving driving driving in the evening and it's actually not that much into hanging out time but it's still till 9 00 ish but it's still a late start and I feel guilty about calling people and then asking them to drive ME around (although I guess I've been doing that for years) plus getting up early for work, different people at different times so yeah! I have to leave right now to go practice some more driving. Hope to have a life again soon.

The Worst

Last night my boss at the restaurant tried to interfere when the cook and I were discussing a food order. She just made it more confusing because she came half-way into the conversation, and how she does stuff is different from how I do it and the cook does it, and then both of them were talking at the same time, and then she thought I was making up different sizes and half-portions that aren't on the menu, and then when I tried to do it better according to her the second time it was even more confusing and i could have dealt with it in about five seconds if she'd just me talk to the cook.
But the worst, worst part is that in the end, when all you want to do is say, "All right already! I get it" and get the hell away from there, you have to say, "I'm sorry." No matter that she was the one that pulled things out of her butt that I never said. No, it's "I'm sorry. I was confused. Now I understand and I will do better next time." Screw that. I am not groveling to her anymore.

Inside the Malibu Dream House

Last night, after completely forgetting for the third night in a row about soccer at Grant Park, my dad and I went for a drive to Home Depot. (Personally, I think this is my brain's way of sabotaging any attempt of mine to exercise, or in particular run--especially after a recent stunning victory in that department). Now Home Depot is not, let's say, a particular favourite of mine. Actually, I don't think I've ever been inside one, except perhaps as a kid when my memory was even less functional than it is now. I pictured Wall-Mart but grungier. Instead, although still fluorescent-lit and grey, it was like I stepped into a giant dollhouse. It was all very surreal. Huge walls with shiny silver things streching up until they lost all detail. Washers and dryers in big bunches. We had to look at tubs, and they had individual little "bathrooms" set up like sets for a movie, with only two walls, in all different decorating tastes. French countryside? Clean and simple? Deep red walls with a jetted whirpool? there was even one where the walls looked like the outside of a stone cathedral, the medieval feel even stronger because the top of the shower door was level with my head, which is only five and a half feet.
Then the tubs in stock were displayed vertically, set in the wall, three or four high. Like an eagle's eye view of cards laid on a table. Holy crap. Clever and dwarfing.
The little bathroom set-ups made me feel like Barbie in a seriously screwed-up Malibu Dream House. Further on there were the showers, also displayed and built vertically on top of each other. I could just imagine what it would be like to have the run of the place after closing time. Screw sneaking into Wall-Mart--Home Depot was the place to be! You could climb up the showers and tubs one by one until you could be comfortably nestled into a shiny, closed-off niche twenty feet off the ground, survey your kingdom and hopefully be cocooned with someone that makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

Mini-Poppins

Last Monday I had my first day back babysitting after what I thought was going to be goodbye forever. Damn those kids, though: as soon as you think you've had enough of them, they're fun and sweet and addictive. So we went to the park even though it was windy and cold, but hten I didn't have to constantly tell them to be quiet, so I didn't care. Besides, I adore wind. If people and elements could marry I'd be sending out the invitations. The twins thought this called for umbrellas so we (quietly) dug some out.
Now I haven't held an umbrella for about three years--not because I hate them or any particular allergic reaction, but just because I like rain better. (Or am caught unawares). So I got a gigantic Hagrid-sized red and white umbrella, and the twins got a frog and a rather plain blue one which was constantly turning inside out. Originally they wanted to steal mine, but then they abandoned that plan when they realized it was too heavy for them to actually hold up.
Of course it didn't rain at all while we had the umbrellas. But instead we were all morphed into Mary Poppins (and miniature versions) and marched, paraded, whistled and sang our way to the park. We twirled the life out of those umbrellas. THen at the park we decided to jump around and let the wind catch us and "fly".
The pretty twin decided she needed to jump off a high place to really fly, so I suggested one of the red stepping-stones. The next thing I know I turn around and she's crouching at the top platform of the play structure and before I could yell she casually leaps off, umbrella outstreched to catch the wind, and lands cross-legged in the gravel.
I just gaped. I don't know how high it was but she's six, and it was about twice her height. THat's like me casually jumping off of an eleven-foot platform, which for particular daredevils may seem like nothing but that would terrify me. Of course she just turned to me really excited and said, "I flew for a minute!" and got up to do it again. What else could I do? So I laughed and said, "Definitely."
The ugly twin (well, not that ugly really) got mad at me when I told her she couldn't jump off an even higher but different part of the playground. She stalked off and sat underneath her umbrella for a while, then yelled at me, "My dog died!"
Well, I'd definitely swatted him before I left so I was confused. She continued "before I was born!" and then she told me (pretty much out of nowhere) that her grandpa had died before she even got to know him and loads of other people did, too. That's why she was so angry.
I admire her for feeling that cheated. Or at least for being creative. But she's so strange.
We proceeded to make forts with the umbrellas and eventually, twirling them in front of us, paraded on home.

Strange Preconceptions

So yesterday, while doing some emergency last-minute Mother's Day shopping, I found two CDs I really wanted both for $ 9.99 each, which makes any day a success. One was the newest Regina Spektor, because really, it was going to happen sooner or later. The other was a Lily Allen album, which I had kind of had my eye out for because her songs were so funny on my latest birthday mix. But based on the three songs of hers I knew, I had a very clear mental image of her before that was not what she looks like at all. Basically I had imagined someone tall and Keira Knightly-looking, except with long blonde hair. She had a deep red and silver background. Instead she's this short chick with black hair on a motorcycle, but wearing a pretty skirt, with a kind of comic-book punk style to it. It's very cool, but so different. And wierd to adjust.
When I first heard Feist, I also imagined a round, cat-eyed girl with sandy-coloured hair with a bit of an attitude, like this girl who once did a poetry reading at Dregs Cafe. And then Leslie Feist looks obviously completely different. It's strange how this affects how you hear music, like the song can actually sound totally different. Also, why does my brain seem to think everyone is blonde? Not in a Duff way, but it's still perverse.
I also just downloaded a ton of Louis and Ella together, and I got some CDs on hold at the library. I love the pursuit of music. It's so productive. And I feel like a rounder person with every new song I find! woot.

Hahahahahahaha ah but it's not cold outside...!

11 Hours

So on Tuesday I started my new job at an Inn, so basically I am living my life in sync with Lorelai Gilmore. It's very beautiful and I learnt how to do hospital corners. Fitted sheets are just so indulgent. But honestly, I really like it there and I enjoy being in a smaller place where I pretty much use my head and do what I think needs to be done, even if I can't remember whether the pink or black sheets go on the bottom.
HOWEVER, other work is not so satisfactory. As I was told to do, I got a day job so I can work in the restaurant in the evenings. Then this week I get only two day time shifts (aka little business, few hours, no tips). And my boss wants to know my Inn schedule so she can continue to do this, since the Inn is only two or three days a week. Um, excuse me, that's not what we agreed. Now I look at the schedule for next week and oh, goodie! One shift. One. Uno. None other than. It's a Saturday so at least it'll be busy, but honestly. What, you just don't have to courage to freakin lay me off? God. So next week between two jobs I'm working about a grand total of 10 or 11 hours. That's just fantastic.
Do they not realize that to cut down my hours there because I got a second job somewhere else ENTIRELY DEFEATS THE PURPOSE????
I am frustrated. And I just know! if I get a third job the restaurant will give me even fewer hours, because that's how they work. I want to just not tell them, but I guess it wouldn't look very good to my newest employers if I told them they weren't allowed to talk to my boss.

Finally

So my sister finally had her baby! He's a little boy named Zane Joseph and he's of course adorable, with a head that's actually not cone-shaped! He's a special baby indeed. I held him for a whle, and he's a really quiet, content kid who only cried when the nurse was inspecting him, although he did on the midwife when she gave him a needle. He's got spunk. And seeing him with Drew was so cool, and oh...it's going to be so much fun when they're a little older. Exhausting, probably, but good.

Johnnie M

Hey! So last night was THE night, the night be bedazzled and wonderfied by the great John Mayer, himself. It was pretty fantastic, even if he didn't play "3x5" or "Dreaming with a Borken Heart" (yes, I know the titles are cheesy but deal with it, they're still amazing). I went with a friend of mine from French class and she was a good person to be excited with. The seats were great, and my good friend John looked damn cool up on stage, even if his hair was a little bad-fro-ish. I have to say though, he's one of those strange people, like Sarah Jessica Parker, who if you didn't look at them in quite the right way they could be very ugly or very attractive. And they get this reputation for one way or the other (well, here for the attractive side) and so everyone repeats it and generally, yeah, it's fair. But if you look closely, really closely, it's like What's up with that nose? or eyes? or in this case, hair?
Foretunately I am a truly non-superficial person who loves John soley for his music. (Really, why does Jessica Simpson get him?) He played "Why Georgia" which was so lovely, and did lots of cool guitar-ish playing around stuff, which is as accurate as I can describe it being guitar-illiterate. At least for the moment, anyway. I expected to see more people I knew there but not so much, though the friend I went with saw pretty much her entire old high school. C'mon people! why don't more of you love John Mayer?
The night ended with a Peaches n Cream smoothie and fun gossip, which is the way any good evening should end, when it has to end at all. Sigh. I just want him to come back soon, whenever that will be. And then it's me and you, Danica, and no running to Italy to escape it!

Freedom

Exams are over! A load off my back. Freedom is sweet.

Sir Wilfrid Laurier Shows Some Tongue

Last Sunday I went to Value Village and got a few skirts, two pairs of shoes and some earrings. I wore one of the pairs of shoes yesterday to work. They are little black heels, very cute, very slightly too small. But I figured, it's a Tuesday. I will try them out while it's not busy and make sure they won't make me trip and spill wine all over someone. It's been a while since I've worn heels though and I love that they click-click-click, but it also makes me very self-conscious. The first thing the girl I work with did when I walked out was look at my feet. She thought they looked good too, and then she chatted about how the afternoon had been. While I prepared a fresh pot of coffee and she went to collect her things, I heard her saying to the cook and my boss "...yeah, she's just trying them out tonight..."

I can't believe they were discussing my footwear about, oh, 55 seconds after I'd walked in. Someone spare me. The cook told me my feet would be sore later and I'm like, thanks for the warning, dude! Not.

It started out very slow but we finally got some people in around 8. My shoes stuck it out admirably, and I even did some of my usual rushed spinning and turning which I had restricted myself from up till then. However, it was heels on tile and after I was really getting into it my coworker said, "Well, you certainly look sober." After that I just spun to the music when there weren't any customers out front.

Side note: macademia nut and hazelnut together are fantastic.

I served two Italian guys, cause I'm lucky. I asked them if they liked their desserts and the first guy said they were great. The second laughed and said "I need a cigarette!" I wasn't sure what you say to that, but I think it meant something good. Very culturally appropriate. Later on this man paid me with a five dollar bill--except the old guy who's on the bill had his tongue sticking out! The man had made a tiny rip in the paper at the mouth and stuck a strip of red paper that said "Beatrice" from our creamers inside. I taped it to my tip jar and laughed at it all evening.

Joey Tribbiani meets Todor

. So I've been listening to this wonderful song by Todor which, if you didn't listen to the lyrics, would be skanky to the max. Definitely would go on the Trash Mix CD. But then you listen to what they're saying, and really it's all about "Mmm, calcium". Yeah milk! Racin' to the fridge, that yummy calcium, moooore milk. One, I love it and two, it reminds of Joey Tribbiani on Friends, when he can make "grandma's chicken soup" sound dirty. Maybe Todor is Joey's Bulgarian incarnation, except with an IQ higher than that of a squirrel's and significantly less huggable.

Angry = Online Application!

So today I felt vaguely angry and focusless, so what do I do? Apply for a job with the government! Man, scrolling through lists of career skills that don't pertain to me at all is very demoralizing. Does planning a Drama curriculum of 3-4 days count as Program Planning? Well, now it does. And there was nowhere for me to say I write and speak Portuguese! Why can't I know a more useful language? Of course there was a French section, but it was just "Do you speak or write it fluently?" Well, what is fluent anyway? I really wanted to say I could at least speak but...I couldn't. It does say somewhere that I take French in University, I guess that will have to do.
No idea when if ever this will do anything, or whether they will want someone for only two months. Oh well, it'll be interesting to see if anything comes up.

Prelude

So I finally created an online journal, partly out of peer pressure and partly out of procrastination--damn that Calculus studying. This could turn out cool, but I am a bit weary of blogs so this will be very experimental. I don't want to end up writing down too many things online and not in my proper, pen-and-ink journal. I also don't want my friends to READ all the coolest things that happen to me. I want to tell them in person, see their reaction and have real conversations instead of comments. Although those are nice, too. But being with someone is almost always better than talking to them on the phone, email, and definitely better than MSN or blogging.

At the same though, this could work out nicely for just random thoughts and maybe even spur a reconnection in people I hadn't seen in a while and who otherwise had no idea what was up with me. Although...I also feel like presenting yourself in a supposedly journal-type way, which implies honesty and private thoughts, on a blog where you are basically writing FOR others to read is a little hypocritical. Or just wrong. I'm not really the way I sound on a blog. I can't be. It only shows one facet of my personality in the one moment I wrote it in. Others aren't either. But it feels like that realization bypasses most people.

OK, so I'm a little cynical. But honestly, this could be fun. But I should finally get my eyeballs off the computer screen and go do something productive. Go journals!

On one other note: I really miss choir, and am looking forward to singing later on this evening!

A List

Goals for this Spring:

1. Figure out the job situation. Cafe full time? Second job possibly (shudder) at the Pancake House? Government job? Something althogether different?
2. Plot out my novel of the year, the one I really really want to write. Have yet to figure out what that is.
3. Reconnect with people. All people...especially those lame people that are leaving me for tree-planting! And just other people that I dread the thought of them drifting away.
4. Draw.
5. Practice guitar like I've been studying Calculus.
6. Re-read all the Harry Potter books.
7. Figure out what I want to do with my life.

Well, so I don't really need to do the last one and I'm not going to start angsting about how I don't know what I want to do with my life, but my parents have decided it's time to find me a career! And, you know, I want to know too so I should probably put some effort into that.