Tuesday, 27 September 2011

Identity Crisis

     Having a signature hairstyle can be a tad problematic.  If it isn't just right, it can be a total day wrecker.  I'm a perfectionist though, so one chunk of bang out of place sets me right off.  For the last few weeks, I've been contemplating a haircut, because my mane of luscious golden brown locks has grown far too thick.
     I've had a variety of short hairstyles before, but I love my flippy, curly-fronted 'do.  Pixie cuts, bobs, boy short, done it: what was I to do now that so many girls are opting for shorter hairs while still maintaining ever coveted individuality?  It raises the question why be tied down to one hairstyle?  Heck, girls are shaving half their heads now a days, what I want is way less crazy.  Anyway, girls put way too much importance into their hair, it becomes a protective shield we hide behind to cling on to our femininity.  I say eff dat shiiieeet!  Wear a dress, slap on some makeup goddamn it! 
     I forgot I have bone structure, the greatest gift from our ancestors aside from good, strong teeth.
       Like it or not, half my hair is a pixie cut and one side of my face is real cold now.
In the wise words of Chef, "There is a time and a place for everything.  It's called college."

Thursday, 22 September 2011


     Tuesday was a horrible day, just awful.  Sometimes I am so thoroughly disgusted by people.  After a hideous day, I did not think it was necessary for the universe to get a man with a long pony tail to sit infront of me on the bus.  Yes, I don't like man pony tails, but if they don't smell like old cigarettes and cat litter, we can co-exist just fine.  What is usually an eight minute bus ride took an eternity as we stopped and jerked along in traffic over the bridge.  With each puff of air though the open window, I would get a shock of gag reflex inducing hair stink in my face which would linger in the suddenly stagnant air and taunt me with the fresh air of the bus exchange within my view.
      I thought I was done with aggravation when I stepped foot onto my last bus on the journey home.  NOPE.  A man, who was already seated, got up halfway through the bus ride to come sit and talk with me even though I had headphones on and was intently studying for a test the next morning.  How nice of him.  Distracted by the flurry of disgruntled texts I was compelled to send to my besties after his departure from the vehicle, I missed my stop.
     It was for the best though, trudging down the hill in my fashionable combat-style boots helped alleviate some of my anger before I went on an impending murderous rampage.
      It's not often I'm monster pissed.
     Over the past couple days I've cooled down, but I still don't understand why being polite has to put nice people in uncomfortable situations.  Being socially awkward is supposed to repel people, not attract men like a tight dress and no bra.
     Usually trying on my fancy dresses really cheers me up, especially because my cousin's wedding is coming up and I get to wear my gorgeous brocade dress from the 40's.  It helped for sure, because it looks fly, and not much is better than eating candy and looking really fly.  Sadly, my marshmallow strawberries were not as sweet as they normally are; I blame my cold, but my distaste for a current situation is most likely the culprit for this dissatisfaction. 
     At least we found a rat in our back yard! It was so small and cute...for a rat.
Oh yeah, it's dead btdubs.  Surprise! Can't unsee that!  You're welcome internest.

Sunday, 18 September 2011

Ultimate Pick Me Up

     My house is about 500 degrees below my ectotherm lizard queen limit of tolerability.  My parents won't let me turn the heat on because it is only September so I had to wear a coat and beret in my nest to not freeze to death and catch my death of cold.  Oh wait, too late.
     I decided that this should be a mega relax, tame your illness for once instead of being slightly sick for months and becoming acclimatized to feeling like shit, weekend.  I did a very good job.  I made one studious attempt to stay on top of my readings and study for my quiz tomorrow, but after a few half assed hours, I ended up on MTV.ca watching hours of Jersey Shore.  You see my dear reader, I may have followed the other 3 seasons, but this time I just couldn't be bothered.  Also I worked.  Anyway, 6 hours later, we have my interpretations of all the characters.  Enjoy!
     Let's start with Deena, as she is the newest member of the cast of this epic reflection of regular modern life.  I may be an obnoxious drunk, but mandolin, at least I always wear undies.  Gotta give her credit though, she seems to have a lot of fun, except when she hooks up with girls and gets confused and cries because she is out of control and losing herself but just keeps drinking.  Who deals with real problems anyway?
    I was considering not even drawing her a head, thus her less than recognizable face.  She is an affront to nature.  Enough said.  I do admire her zeal for skirmishes though.  At least once before I die, gotta punch some bitches out. Mmmmmm yes.  I have a signature move I've been developing just for such an occasion, but it's a secret.  Hint: gotta get a lock of hair for the scrapbook!  Jenni tries to be the level headed one, she actually has a pretty reasonable brain above those enormous, bronzed fake breasts.
     AHHHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT IS THIS HORRIBLE MINION OF HELL?!?!  No, seriously, The Situation is the most hideous thing I've seen in a long time, and I've seen spinal disability porn for my Health Science lecture last year.  His mind is all kinds of wrong too, half the time he just makes weird noises vaguely resembling "nawwww meeeann".  Gak!  Enough of this foul creature! BE GONE HELLSPAWN!
     Oh Snooki, Jionni has turned you into a mopey alpaca.  She still knows how to party though, and she's lost a commendable sum of weight.  I wish I had the technology to do tans or some kind of colour on these illustrations.  If I shaded it with pen, it would defs look like racism.  She is my favourite bowling ball.
     Sammi is the only kind of normal looking girl?  At least I think so.  I would never, in my life, choose to befriend her though.  I hate drama.  I hate other people's drama.  I hate it when people screech at the counterparts of their drama and cry hysterically in public.  Speaking of big dumb animals...
     I find nothing attractive about Ron, except that he has all his limbs and skin, but that could be a lot of people.  He is just so stupid.  It actually hurts me to see him interacting in his televised daily life.  Also men that big disgust me.  HULKING MAN BEAST!  It's just so...creepy.  Like morbid obesity, the human body lets itself extend to huge sizes, but it is not good in the long run.  People just aren't supposed to be like that.  I would not feel comfortable around a guy that could crush my dainty skull between their bicep and forearm.
       I would actually love to have Pauly D as a bro.  He seems like such a fun guy to have around, he and Vinny are so silly!
     Maybe I took a bit of artistic license with Vinny. Vinny is the only one that strikes me as slightly human.  And by human I mean bangable.  But seriously, he seems like a decent boy and his skin isn't the colour of a well cooked roast beast.  Also, has anyone else noticed how hipster he's become in the 4th season?  He even has nice lil' thick rimmed glasses, one of my Kryptonites.  Consider this:
     After all of this Jersey-ness, what was the only logical thing for me to do you ask?  For the first time since the beginning of summer, I broke out the sunless tanner and a pair of vinyl gloves and rubbed myself down with toxic chemicals.  I want to maintain my summer glow, ok?  It's not hypocritical because you can still tell I'm totally a white gurl.  My room still reeks of self tanner though.

Friday, 16 September 2011

Sick Day

     Have you ever been so irrepressibly happy you can't believe this is your life?  Well, I am: right now.  School is falling into place, new and relevant volunteering opportunities have presented themselves to me(including ones with experimental rodents!), and we have come to a clear conclusion that we are confused in a kind of ok way.  Most importantly of all, I'm sleeping again!
     Today turned into an impromptu sick day, but the sick, rad, dope kind of sick.  Also the sneezing kind.  So much sneezing.  Fun fact: earl grey tea mixed with ginger ale is the best sore throat remedy drink ever.  You get the caffeine of tea and sweetness of ginger drank.
     Being sick as a germaphobe is kind of like what I imagine cheating on an unattractive, ill tempered, neglecting spouse with a bronze god cabana boy is like.  Spreading infectious disease is kind of liberating.  Knowing that my hands, usually far too frequently rubbed down with sanitizer, are the ones to grind germs all over the bus and smite those who do not employ proper hygiene gives me sick pleasure.  See what I did there...derpy word play!
    I'm the kind of person that has to do things in a very specific, organized, pre-planned way and being sick is like a wonderful vacation from adjusting the angles of books, skirts, socks, and papers.  In other words, not a single fuck is given.  
     I'm a tad worried though, we're approaching the third week of school already and my brain hasn't kicked into nerd-core mode yet.  I only just got caught up on this week's reading and that's not like me.  I tell ya, since I nearly killed myself studying for exams with mono in the spring, my motivation is not what it used to be.  Or it could be attributed to the binge drinking...
     Today, I had the opportunity to spend the entire day leisurely reading textbooks and chilling, but instead I watched an epic animated version of the literary classic "Dante's Inferno" and C.H.U.D.s; it was totally worth it though.  I also was knitting, that's productive to some degree.
     Last night, I watched Anastasia.  Ho mang, I luuurve that movie.  It makes me yearn for something really fantastic to happen in my life.  Yes, I know I was just gushing over how happy I am now, but I am thinking of a real change of scenery.  Damn this life of being a broke ass student.  I want to be together in Paris with the dowager Romanov and buy Chanel gowns.  Or just have an adventure, anywhere outside of my homeland.

Tuesday, 13 September 2011

Friend Owl

     This post has been in the works for a few days now.  You see, I haven't been sleeping much lately.  Maybe it's because I insist on sleeping with 2 quilts and it is still far too hot even with a fan blasting.  I simply cannot turn my brain off.  My mind is a swirling tempest of "should have's" and "what now's".
     As much as I am a woman of science, I love the metaphysical possibilities of existence.  Attempts to divert my mind through late night consults with my cards and studying birthday interpretation manuals provide temporary relief; however, I still can't get to sleep before 2:30am at the earliest.
     A few nights ago, in my drunken stupor, I fell asleep right away.  It was the sweetest relief.  We were so close to a whole night's sleep, but the luscious REMs were violently snatched from me by the WORST. NIGHTMARE. EVER.
     I awoke with a jolt at 5am, heart pounding, head swimming, and gasping for air.  All I could do was lay there, because as always, I just couldn't turn my brain off.  I drifted in and out of sleep the rest of the morning because I knew I had time to kill before I had to get up for work.
     I hate contemplating what to do from my cozy nest.  I feel so powerless and as if I am wasting a sacred resource.  Honestly, what good can I really do from a horizontal position at six in the morning and no make up on?  Nothing, except feeble text messages and Facebook lurking.
      Jumping round in time here, combating the mounting insanity ensuing from this sleeplessness, I had to blow off a friend's gig because my best pals organized a mad chill sesh to cheer me up.  It worked really well, but again, a few minutes of delicious drunk sleep then I lay wide awake for hours.  The initial cause of this insomnia doesn't feel like a problem compared to having the blurred vision of a raging alcoholic at 11:30am at school due to exhaustion. 
     I have the best friends ever.
     We even went home pretty early because we were public transportationing-it.
     I had 4 hours of sleep last night, and 11 hours of school today.  I was so grumpy coming home tonight that I couldn't be bothered to ink this!
    Who knows how I'll feel come tomorrow night.  Imagination and creativity are wondrous things; however, having a brain that runs rampant at the slightest hint of probability is a plague.  Please let me sleep.  I just want to sleep.

Monday, 5 September 2011

Scabby Knees

     And so marks the last day of my first four month summer.  What a treacherous wonderland of laughs, tears, and  personal growth.  Last Friday, some crazy shieeeeet went down, not just shit, but shiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeet.  As I don't think the internet needs to have in depth details of my conundrums, I will present to you a few illustrations.
     At first I was horrified, but didn't have a panic attack for once!  Something magical had occurred over the last few months, I took my head out of my butt and started behaving like a normal-ish human with appropriate coping skills.  Maybe the flask of vodka helped too, who knows?  Either way, in the beginning of the week everybody was upset, especially me because feelings are weird and stupid and confusing sometimes, even more so when other people are involved.
     Then something else amazing happened, I just went with the flow.  No solid plan, acts totally defying logic, words pouring out my mouth without meticulous pre-planning.
     And so I did.  And life is chill.  AND SCHOOL STARTS TOMORROW!  Please excuse my nerd-citement, you can take the nerd out of school, but you can never take the school out of the nerd.  Aside from the complicated interpersonal drama this last week and a bit, I went camping with my best pals and there has been a lot of going out before school starts.  Translation: getting dranked preee much errr day.  It's been sweet, Summer.
     This Friday that just happened, we went to a great rager of a party and I got to see some fun friends I hadn't seen in quite the while.  Including my pal, Tanzil.  Whenever I see her (we've always been partying) she tells me she reads this blog.  She has a blog too.  This is the link, even though I didn't ask if I could put it up, I'm doing it anyway.  Free publicity, who doesn't want it?  I know, right? 
     Silly drunk yelling aside, that party also freaked the hell out of me.  There was a meat head fight and I got super duper scared.  I wrapped myself in a curtain to protect myself from the sweaty, muscly beasts with copious amounts of testosterone coursing through their man-veins.
     After the fight had settled down for a bit, I walked through the scene of the brawl to fill up ma cup, mazel tov.  To my horror, there was blood splattered all over the wall and on the biscuit beige carpet.  I kept yelling "HEPATITIS, HEPATITIS!  THEY ARE GOING TO SPREAD HEPATITIS!  I NEED TO GET MY HAND SANITIZER!" I'm lucky they didn't grind my face into a gelatinous mass of disfigurement.  the fight got moved outside and it looked like many more chaps were involved this round.  This time I kept yelling, "COUNT BACKWARDS FROM TEN AND THINK OF A WHALE WITH AN EYE PATCH!  ISN'T IT ADORABLE?!?!"
     See what I mean?  Isn't it jus da cutest thing to fare da seven seas?  Only a monster would still want to crush skulls after splish splashing with a friendly pirate whale.
     Anger management skills aside, this has been the drunkiest, raunchiest, most emotionally taxing, and most unpredictable summer of my life.  Thanks to everyone that has been a part of it, even the ookie stuff.  Here's to many more adventures to come as we venture into the fall season!


Saturday, 3 September 2011

BeerBot 3000

     What a week, holy mother!  Nothing like mid-week camping to throw you off the rhythm of normal, sober life right before school.  I feel no remorse.  Camping was fantastic.  Being the champ that I am, I was so excited to go for an adventure; I packed my bags, I had all my bedding set out, and I had laid my travel outfit out for a quick and painless getaway.  In my unbridled frenzy of anticipation, I brought all my bags downstairs to the door to load and go.  At least I thought I did.  About 2 hours later, I had 3 voicemails from my parents and numerous more missed calls from home because I forgot my clothing bag.
      I camped for three days, two nights in an adorable floral dress, one pair of spandex shorts, and a black cardigan.  At least I looked thuper ca-uuuuuute.
     Thankfully, my darling friends stepped to my rescue and offered me an abundance of clothes.  The pair of plaid jammies was helpful as both bug proofing and a warmth layer.  Come the second day, I had given up on keeping up appearances and it became apparent when I emerged from our tent in PJ legs and a tank top. 
     The best part was that a few hours later, one of my friends informed me that my pants were on backwards.
     I forgot all about my backwards pants and left them like that well into the third day.  Maybe I was more lenient with my appearance because yes, the bottles were being popped on the ice, and we were very much getting slizzered.  We played many rousing rounds of Rats, strip Jenga, and of course, beer pong.  Our neighbours were fun too.  On the first day, we collected all our cardboard packaging from our inkihaul and Reilly created BeerBot 3000: Destroyer of Memories. 
     A grand time was had by all.  An impromptu swim, 5 kilograms of bacon, and a few run in's with giant crane flies later, the trip had reached a close.  It was a classy outing, but after a surprise torrential downpour, something was missing from this fab vaycay.
     All my life I've yearned to visit Castle Fun Park.  We did.  We went on the Go Karts, we hit up the fun games, we rocked the Jurassic Park shooting raptors of death game, oh, and DDR obviously.  I was in heaven.  If we get a Dave and Buster's in Vancouver, I'm going to live there.  I love my friends.