aaaannnndddd....BREAK!

Holy crap.

Holy effing crap.

Last night at around 12:30, I finally finished my semester.

Whoooo! Spring...no....Winter break! YEAH!

I've been writing papers for so long that I don't know what to do with myself. I hear that there's people out there who know me...some of them even like me. I hear I have friends. These people I have not seen in so long, I have forgotten what they look like.

Dang.

I have a week to do nothing. OH. Again, that's a negative. But...I have a week to do considerably less pressing stuff before school starts. Even slightly longer than a week. I'm rolling in free time!

No one cares, but it's my blog so I'm gonna tell you that my papers were on the following topics:

Morphology class: I wrote about the acquisition of the morphological causative affix order in Inuktitut. This stuff is NOT my strength, so it was really hard. I am pleased because, really, I think this means I never have to take another morphology class my entire career. Not that I regret it, but one is definitely enough.

Phonology: I wrote about the asymmetries in the acquisition of onset and coda clusters (kids master coda clusters faster than onset clustesrs) and why I think that there's some physical and psychological reasons for it.

Thanks for indulging me.

These papers have obsessed me for...well, I don't know how long but I did start working on both over a month ago. Never again! I will, from now on, start papers significantly earlier. Jacqui and I have a plan.

It is new year's eve today and I am happy to be able to relax and hang out at home tonight without being tied to a word document. But first, I feel like musing on my first semester of graduate school:

holy effing crap.

That was something else. I seriously can't believe a/ how much I crammed into my head about linguisics and b/ how little I know about linguistics. I really hope for the next semester, and indeed for ever more, that I learn how to manage time better.

The moral of this story is...

don't fuck with a linguist.

Update: Now with pictures!

R.I.P. Godfather

James Brown dead at 73.

That's right, bitches

The Veteran You scored 88%!

You've picked up the majority of the classic rock basics. You probably have a classic rock collection and can sing along with most of the songs on your local radio station. This is not the highest score, but it is arguably the best: that subtle combination of impressive knowledge and not being a pretentious geek.

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 99% on notes

Link: The BASIC classic rock Test written by allmydays on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Dreamweaver

The past two night I've dreamt:

1- that a huge storm beat the shit out of our fair city. Actually, it looked more red brick building-y...but whatever. There was rubble and broken walls everywhere.

2- dang...I forgot this one. But it was distressing.

3- that a murderous brother and sister pair were after me.

Hitch goes crazy, World still turns

So, my friend and colleague of hard knocks, Jacqui passed to me the other day an article that women have been passing to each other as of late. Hitchens thinks women are no fun at parties, but they do great at funerals and brises.

Now, I've been mulling this over in my head about how to write about this. But I've got 2 papers pending and a LOT of test marking...plus some dork thinks all my intellectual time should go to arguing with him about his delusions of grandeur over at another blog that I'm not going to link here because I've sworn off that xenophobic piece of crap because even arguing against her belittles your soul. I seem to have gotten off track. Ah, well...

Okay...so the Hitch response was back-burnered.

In the computer lab yesterday, Jacqui told me about this short response tucked into the larger, yet still funny, post which I finally got around to reading now and found this one. Now this is comedy that Hitch obviously never counted on.

So...my work's been done, and better than I can do it. Great. I'll leave you to read it, then.

Brucio

One of my faves. Also, it made it okay to admit that I, too, hate reggae:

LARPers, the deluxe version

The way to go. Yoooo Hoooo!

So, I've started running again because my advisor made me.

ha!

She started a running group with our lab and, really, her grad students (me, and 2 PhDs) don't have that much of a choice. We gotta go.

Which is good. I like it. We've all started to look forward to our weekly run because at the end we always find out that we've gone significantly further and for longer each time. And it's our little psychological treat.

So, in the wake of this, I've started to make Sundays my "me" running day. It's not the 3 days a week I was doing, but it's something. I throw on my iPod and I go.

My god I love my iPod.

What I've discovered, though...although I usually like listening to the radio or podcasts while I'm running...when I need that extra push Parliament Funkadelic is there.

Honestly...I knew that PFunk is motivational, but it really works. That line in Bop Gun...the one that has the backup singers repeating "gotta get over the hump...gotta get over the hump..." made me forget my ankle was hurting me. I try to make every step match the beat, and when I can't...long strides make it feel like I'm gliding through the music.

Of course...I'm certain it's quite a different sight if you're watching me from your car as you drive by. Less 'gliding' than it is 'dorky'...but, whatever. I'm trying to stomp my foot on 'the one'...and it's hard.

Usually I end up clapping.

Yeah...for sure I look like a dork.

I'm attacking the darkness

Out of control, yo!

I don't know what's going on but the past few days, although more disciplined than usual - been exercising, doing a bit of my 'learned from a book and have no idea if I"m doing this right' yoga, reading, getting that school beeach in line - my eating habits have gone out of control. I get home and I'm instantly like 'awgrh awgrh awgrh' (that's the best Cookie Monster to print transcribing I can do) all the way through the kitchen. I've had this thing against sweets that I'm sure if you know me you've known about...well, sweets abound, sir! Sweets effing abound.

I was sitting in my meeting today listening to this psych grad talk about some interesting crap and my stomach was growling and I was feeling all weird n' stuff and I thought, 'I ate breakfast..what was it?' and then I thought, 'oh...chips, the rest of a chocolate bar, and tea.' Wtf?? I mean, I'm 34 years old now. When did that particular breakfast of champions become acceptable?

And another thing. Why doesn't anyone like my frikking hat? I made a hat for C that was too small, so I've been wearing it and no one is like, 'g-dammit-that-is-the-best-hat-I've-ever-seen-I-will-pay-you-double-the-price-of-the-yarn-and-labour-to-make-me-one-exactly-like-it!!!' and drooling and stuff like I really think they ought to. Seriously, it rocks so much that I went out and bought more of the yarn that it's made of just so I can make christmas presents. So, sucks for family if this hat actually looks crappy. I was going to take a pic and post it here, but a/ I'm lazy and b/ what if I actually find out the truth? Can't risk it. You'll just have to compliment me to my face.

Who wouldn't wake up early for this?

It's 7:30.

I went to bed at midnight'ish.

I don't have to be at school until 12:30.

So why am I up now? And...why have I been up at this time for the past few days?

Fear, my friend...fear.

It is now January 7th. Tomorrow I will be presenting to my class my term paper topic, what I've done so far, what I will do, and where I might encounter troubles.

That's just dandy if I ~could~ stand up and say, 'I don't know what the eff I'm doing. I feel that I will encounter trouble when I start to write. Thank you.'

Dang.

I mean, I sorta know...I think. I mean, I know what I would ~like~ to write on, but the logistics of the thing may cause a crash that I will not be able to recover from.

So...I'm up at 7:30 so that I can spend today preparing myself. I wanted to sleep in a bit, but the pounding of my heart and cold sweats really called for me to get up and do some work.

Anyone got change for funk?

Pfunk3
Originally uploaded by himbly.

George Clinton's website is the B-O-M-B.

A toast to his booty.

What I find (un)interesting

Was at Chinook mall yesterday and I stopped into Music World to pick up some cheap DVDs.

Now, I am no stranger to those people who have carved their own path as far as fashion goes. As a young'un, I felt drawn to social deviants, or people who thought they would like to be, and often that was accompanied by unusual fashion choices. In some cases (rockabilly) I found that these fashion choices were little more than uniforms, but that's another discussion all together. So, yeah. Weird people don't bug me.

However...I'm starting to find out that ~sometimes~ the weirder the look, the more cliche the shit that comes out of their mouth.

Did I say sometimes? Yeah, I meant 'nearly always'.

Watched this kid at the till. Gotta admit, he never had a chance for me not to judge him. Huge ear-plugs. Gad, I hate those things. Stupidest fashion statement I've ever seen a North American wear. That alone makes me think that someone's a complete idiot who I wouldn't trust to use the toilet the right way around (I can't remember who said that before me, but I love that phrase). His hair was all spikey and blonde..but like, huge long spikes. His eyes had, actually, quite a beautiful shade of pink on the lid spread thickly across. He began telling some other kid about, '...ummm, the little old lady who just left here?' He started his story, only pieces of which I caught because a/ I was busy with the bored and listless girl with piercings serving me (yay! now THAT'S a teenager), and b/ I sorta knew that what was coming was gonna be the typical retail/service industry complaint where a customer was completely justified in their actions as it is not their job to know the rules and customs of the store, yet the employee will somehow construe this as a show of stupidity or nastiness. '....and I was all like, I'm sooo confused!', he finished. Seriously, the amount of times I've heard guys who look like that say exactly that...well, if I had a nickle for them all I would be able to buy myself a decent meal at Earls and then have a few drinks after a movie. But..then...don't get me started on Earls. Actually, it's similar to this rant, 'cept the people are complete slutty clones of each other.

I digress...

I know a guy. He's a drag queen. Since I know more than one drag queen, and from completely different circles, I'm feeling this is anonymous enough to say. He likes to glam it up. Yet, everything that comes out of his mouth is a freakin' cliche. Which is really disappointing to me since his life must be more exciting than mine. Really nice guy. I like him plenty. But really boring to listen to sometimes. And he says things like, '....I'm like, I'm soooo confused!' too!

I think, too, that I probably looked exactly like a cliche yesterday as I could not stop frowning and glimpsing at Confused Ear-plug Boy. I just know that the girl told him I was "totally freaked out" by his "look" after I'd gone. Or whatever kids say today.

seriously seriously having a difficult time with concentration

One.word.only.

1. Yourself: procrastinating
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend (spouse): lovely
3. Your hair: brown
4. Your mother: devoted
5. Your father: supportive
6. Your favorite item: iPod
7. Your dream last night: syntax!
8. Your favorite drink: water
9. Your dream car: *shrug*
10. The room you are in: cluttered
11. Your ex: care?
12. Your fear: failure
13. What you want to be in 10 years? researching
14. Who you hung out with last night? bf
15. What You're Not? lazy
16. Muffins: orange
17. One of your wish list items: received
18. Time: quick
19. The last thing you did: read
20. What you are wearing: layers
21. Your favorite weather: warm
22. Your favorite book: Mockingbird
23. The last thing you ate: chips
24. Your life: busy
25. Your mood: nervous
26. Your best friend: dork (ha!)
27. What are you thinking about right now? consonants
28. Your car: golf
29. What are you doing at the moment? this
30. Your summer: beneficial
31. Your relationship status: involved
32. What is on your TV? n/a
33. What is the weather like? COLD
34. When is the last time you laughed? noonish?

I don't know if I ever posted a pic of this

doll7
Originally uploaded by himbly.

This was the first doll I knit. I was a b-day present for my bf and I knit the whole thing in 2-3 weeks without him knowing. It came from a drawing he made while talking to me one day.

Yes, I am aware of the crappiness of the doll. My first try, though. I'm currently sorta working on an octopus. Hopefully it'll be better.

what? It's like -30 out there?

Jebus!

It's totally cold out there! So completely freaking cold, and because I live in a cave and the manager has control of the heat for the whole cave building, it was freezing first thing this morning. Obviously it seems that it affected the manager finally as now I'm cuddling up to a fully blasting radiator. Well, not fully. When this baby goes, there's no need for toques and sweaters inside.

So, I don' tknow if it's the cold weater or just me, but this has been the weekend of sleeping and eating and goofin' around...so far. I spent yesterday doing nothing related to school - and I slept in until 11. These things are highly irregular for me, but I had a crazytime week. As soon as I'm done this, though, I start...reading and marking...marking and reading. The consuming will probably remain as I am sitting here with a bowl of Kettle Chips in front of me, a bottle of water, a glass of orange juice and a mug of tea. Ta da!

I also woke up with a cold sore on my lip. Gross. Ivana once gave me some Chinese medication for cold sores and this stuff works like magic. Whatever stage of coldsore-ary you're at, it seems to stop dead in its tracks. Bam! Right in your kisser.

I worked at the theatre on Friday (after a very long day at school) and there was a 'do' being hosted by some organic food company Planet Foods. Honestly, we've had a ton of people rent the theatre out but I"ve never seen such nice and generous people. You should have SEEN the gift bags they gave everyone...then offered us to take as many as we wanted. I got 4. Filled with all sorts of tasty organic treats...including this INSANE chocolate bar with kickinghorse coffee beans crushed inside. Holy effing crap! Sweet Jesus!

Then...after riding that little high, the sound system crapped out for the second show and I had to give everyone their money back. Wow. That was really not good times. Then, afterwards, we figured out that there was one little switch I didn't know existed that had tripped. Glad that we got crap running again, annoyed that I could have saved myself and 18 other people a lot of trouble if I knew that switch existed before things went South.

My blogging is seriously all over the place. I'm starting to see a pattern...procrastination pattern.

Things I wish my TA would have taught me...

It's past midnight and I've been marking since 1pm. I've got awhile to go before I'm done, too.

So, what better time to take a break while I give you hints for the undergrad...if any of you are reading this:

Firstly...the key thing to know is 'who is marking your midterm?' This leads to a couple of points:

1- watch your prof...what is he/she like? Match your answer to his/her teaching style.

I am TAing 3 (g-damn) classes this semester. 2 profs I work for will cut off marking if you give them the right answer ~somewhere~ (and advised me to do the same). The other prof, though? She deducts marks if you continue on to say stupid things. Sounds mean, but it isn't. What she looks for is the 'global' perception...she marks if you understand and gives you a small 'cuff on the ear' so to speak, when you are lazy or just keep rattling on so that eventually you'll make your point. Be mindful of that. Who's your prof?

2- it may be a TA marking your midterm. Your TA gets instructions from your prof, so see 1. But remember your TA is a student, too. Your TA has more work than you do, I don't care if you've got 5 classes. Your TA is up at midnight while her entire Saturday has passed her by, pounding out a blog entry so that she can take a few minutes away from her marking. Your TA has vowed to herself that she will try to get all this stuff done tonight (Saturday) so that she can use all of Sunday to work on her own crap...finally. Your TA, if she's got 3 TA posts, has been marking midterms for the past 3 weeks and is worried about a/ preparing for her own classes, b/ preparing for the other stuff she attends (reading groups, lab meetings, etc), c/ preparing for her thesis meeting on Monday. Because of you she has a/ no time to bring her car to the garage to get its tires changed, b/ no time to get groceries, c/ turned down 3 invites to hang out with friends, d/ seen her bf only as he walks past her desk to go to the kitchen and back, e/ felt guilty for turning down a friend who just left her husband and wanted to go for a hike tomorrow...etc. She's probably tired and a little bummed out and anxious to get to her own studies if not her own life.

So:

- study for your assignments and exams. Do ~me~ a favour and know what you're talking about.

- be quick and to the point. I just awarded someone full marks for saying everything she needed in a chart where others did it in several paragraphs. It was clear that she understood and explained it well. Done and done.

- don't use those damn covers! You know, the plastic ones that you think impress your prof?? They're sooo annoying!

- but dont' forget to staple your stuff! Paperclip at the very least.

Remember, most TAs really ~want~ to give you good marks. But they do mark hard. They worked to get where they are, so they think you should too. If you're supposed to mention something, mention it.

And go see your TA if they offer office hours. Get them to know your faces. In fact, make sure your prof knows who you are, too.

Okay, I gotta get back to it now...


UPDATE:

-'your TA' may mark one question at a time and order the assignments/tests according to the marks so far. This means that you're probably right next to the person you copied from, dumbass.

Yeah, I got stuff to talk about...

But I don't have time at the moment, so you get this:

oh snap!

Hey...I like Vincent Gallo. Aside from seeming more than a bit like a creepy prick, I think he's hawt. But the girls at Fug are right, and more than just a little funny. I suggest reading their page for good times while you're wresting with a paper or something.

But, really, I've read Vincent Gallo's webpage...he sounds like a dick. Loved Buffalo 66 but not that interested to watch Chloe S. give him a blow job in...whatever it was...I'd look, but time is running out.

I gots to get to school so that I can spend the next 3 hours "chasing the cow's tail" (as my friend Jacqui so beautifully put it) and collapse into a heap of doubt afterwards. Wish me luck!

I have just GOT to get my camera operational

No time these days. When I'm not reading, I'm writing. When I'm not writing, I'm in class. When I'm not doing any of these things, I'm either asleep or defiantly surfing the web for knitting patterns.

And I can hardly wait to start taking pictures of my yarn stash like the other knit bloggers do because I seriously go from blog to blog to see their yarn stashes. And that was not sarcasm. I like to see pics of yarn stashes and projects.

My iPod crashed today and I was bummed all day about it. Finally, it died (it was stuck on 'bright, shiney, and almost rarin' to go for hours)...


GODDAMN WHO'S YAPPY DOG IS THAT??? bet it's JB. You can hear his freaky little dog for blocks.

....anyway...my iPod's working again, but I did fret like a new and worried mother who's pediatrician was out of the office. I could hardly wait to hook my baby back up to it's tech-mother who would know how to soothe and care for it. My iMac is like the wetnurse for my iPod...jesus, was that an easy analogy to make or what??

If you were to take a cartoon...like, say Stewie Griffin, and use one 30-60 sec bit of footage of him talking (say, to Brian on the couch, like they do) and then just take the soundtrack off and put another one on, how much would you notice the lack of sync between the lip movements and what they are saying.

Joe...you could probably help me with this one.

And before anyone accuses me of getting high and thinking that up...accuse again. My prof, a classmate and I had a fairly decent conversation about this stuff today.

Jacqui, if you're reading this...you should have come in a bit earlier.

Don't you wish you were studying phonology? Again, not sarcasm.

running ahead like molasses in January

Why can't I do it?

I set aside entire days, y'all. I make lists. I check them twice. But I still end up sitting here doing the minimum to get by.

I intend to do so much on my days off. I plan to read ahead, get my assignments finished early, start on papers due next month...but I end up for hours surfing through blogs, getting knitting patterns, updating my iPod (love the iPod) and it's sooo difficult to get down to it. Yet...and yet...I know that with the work I've done tonight, I will at least not be in trouble Wednesday when I have to present the article I'm reading.

Another thing. The article I'm reading? Really interesting. Really interesting (to me, at least). Why, then, do I drag my feet so damn much?

The only thing I'm not dragging my feet in is my thesis prep. Dude, I am so far ahead in that. You know why, though? My advisor kicks my ass. I know that she knows that I know that she will not tollerate any bullhockey and so I get my shit done for her. Today she told me how awesome it was that we're so far ahead of the game and we plan for me to start testing babies by the summer. Dude...my lifelong dream of hooking babies up to machines is going to become a reality!

Actually...I regretfully have to admit here that there will be no hooking anything up to machines. It's just my little figure of speech which allows me for a brief moment to imagine I am creating a cy-baby. Damn...if only I could get the ethics approval on that.

Anyway...where was I? I drift off when I think of my own race of attack robots.

I have SO much to do. Seriously. It's crazy. I have no idea why I'm calm right now.

On other fronts, the car is fixed, and C and I ate the rest of my b-day cake in a frenzy of whipped cream and kirsch-soaked-chocolate-loveliness. Now, I resume my frequently faltering attempts back to health and fitness. I have been eating like a bulimic pig the past week and I know I've gained that sudden weight that kinda just one day is like POP and you look like you're a panda that just came out of the dryer on 'fluff' cycle. My bra hurts this week.

Whatever...it's going. Running and eating healthy. Here we go!

wheeze

I finished my second pair of mittens (more procrastination) ever and I am in love with them and plan on making a hat then marrying the three in a small civil ceremony. Really, I'm settling, though, because I've got an IKEA kids toybox full to the brim with better yarn than the stuff I made the mitts out of. I'm so accepting of faults. My boyfriend must be more accepting since he's wearing the first pair of mittens I've ever made. They are two different sizes and are also lame. I offered to make him new ones right away, but he insisted (since it was my b-day) I make myself a pair first. So, mine are kick ass and his are lame. Maybe that's why we're in love.

Oh! I got a camera for my b-day! I'll take a picture of the mitts and you can compare.

My thesis is kick ass, by the way, but it would take longer than I want to write tonight to explain it so I'll leave that for another day when I'm feeling more comfortable and expose-y.

I'm knitting an iPod cover right now that will be my first felting project. Am I lame that I'm excited to see how the two shades of blue in the yarn will look when felted? Yeah...thought so?

I'm writing because a/ I don't want to go to bed yet, b/ I don't want to do more homework, and c/ I feel like there's something I'm forgetting to say and if I keep going I'll eventually find it. Man, my thighs feel fat tonight.

Podcasts! I never knew how much I would love them. Every morning I download more crap than I can ever have time to listen to during the day. CBC and BBC have become my mistresses.

Dang...I'm just gonna give this up now. I should get to bed.

Kinda puts things in perspective...

Clearly, I need to travel more:



create your own visited country map



create your own personalized map of Canada

I realy haven't seen much of Canada. I know that with some people the argument goes, "I want to see my own country before I start traveling out to see the rest of the world", but I always thought that was a bunch of bull-hockey. I always felt, when I was younger, that I wanted to see other countries first because there's always time to see your own. You can do that when you're old, but there's some stuff you want to do while you're still young.

I haven't traveled for so long and looking at that map shows me that there's places I really wanted to see by now, but never made it. Huge continents I left unexplored because Europe is so easy to travel through. One day I'll get back on the road. But, I think I've outgrown hostels. Oh dear unexplained and misunderstood and perhaps non-existant power in this universe, please make it possible for me not to stay in hostels anymore.

Happy Barfday to me

Hey y'all, I'm back.

Oh, I guess it's a happy belated birthday to me. It was on the 9th. I've just had nothing to say until now. Actually, I've got nothing to say now, either, but Black Mana forgot again and I felt like being a bloggy asshole about it.

hehehehe.

Anyway, thanks for all those who ~did~ wish me happy b-day and holy crap have I ever eaten a lot in the past couple of days.

I also got an iPod and a digital camera. How happy am I?? Really effing happy. Overnight, I have become addicted to podcasts.

Update:

- I learned to knit mittens
- I've been academically humbled
- the clutch in my car went
- all these things have not damaged my spirit, somehow
- I am currently working on some stuff for my morphology class, so I'd better GIT!
- Strongbow tastes real good around your b-day. Even if you don't go out for it.

Back to it. Later.

Saddam sentenced to death.

Well, it's been decided.


I am not looking forward to the fallout from this one. Particularly from the bloggy-sphere.

Not that I don't think that this is probably a just verdict. Perhaps Saddam should die. Probably he should.

But I cannot stand the in-your-face jeering that comes about from these circumstances. Sure, from the people directly affected...but from those who are not I just wish they would quietly let it go.

They won't, though.

And no matter how just the situation is, I just think it's in poor taste to celebrate the death of anyone. Tyrant or no tyrant.

"I wish I knew how to quit you"...

booth
Originally uploaded by himbly.

...I said last night as I cleaned up the projector.

G-damn this is a difficult job to give up. Last night after some confusion surrounding my start time...

(he told me, "come in whenever you can, i know you're busy." but whenever I could meant for me around 7..."oh! no no no! you have to come in right away", he said -at 5 (an hour before I was even supposed to work). so I hopped into the car and drove down there. My boss has a 4 year old little boy who, although he is an adorable little bundle of cute is also spoilt rotten. Wait, I'll finish this where I was supposed to...)

...so I hopped into the car and drove sped over to the theatre. There, that's where the rest of that sentence should have gone. The whole way I practiced my "I-don't-think-I-can-do-this-job-anymore-but-maybe-I-can-just-go-on-as-relief" speech. I had it down by the time I parked. I was kind, yet determined...perfect. Right. In I go.

I marched...well, no, I didn't. I walked with confidence up the stairs and found my boss with his son in the office. My boss looked flustered and his boy looked repentant. My boss started to explain...and, being that he was obviously agitated and has a thick accent, I really couldn't make much sense of what he was saying but from what I could get it sounded something like his kid was interested in electronics and seems to have snuck all things electronic that was not nailed down ~somewhere~...from their house and from every nook and cranny of the theatre. All the evidence was laying at my feet and the kid who usually is a sweet little ray of sunshine was now standing with his head bowed and looking up at me with his big, sorry doe eyes. I didn't want to laugh as it seemed it would make light of whatever punishment he was receiving.

I went to the candy counter, laid out the midterms I am in the middle of marking and got to work. I had at least 30 min before the movie would let out. I just didn't have the heart to tell the guy I sorta quit when he was in the middle of trying to figure out what piece of equipment goes where.

He came down and we sorta talked about it. He "assured" me that things will be better now and that I can start coming in "whenever I feel like". I agreed and felt better. He left. I rethought the conversation and past events. Dang. Evidence has suggested that "whenever I feel like" does not match his idea of "whenever I feel like"...was I back at square one?

My boss is very nice and very very non-confrontational, so he didn't trick me purposefully by any means. What he probably did do, though, was set up an impossible or at least improbable situation that will end in me fixing it by coming in when I don't want to.

So, when it was all over and I was upstairs cleaning the machines I sighed and said, "I wish I knew how to quit you." It's okay, they're familiar with the source of that quote. They played it for weeks.

This is true.

mcgurk
Originally uploaded by himbly.

Flipping through rudimentsofwisdom.com supplied by the lovely eener, i -of course- made a bee-line to the language section to see what I could see.

This little tidbit is absolutely true. It's called the McGurk effect and I've seen/heard it work. It's super neato misquito.

whippersnappers

Give me a sec while I adjust my wire glasses, settle in my comfy chair and put down my cross-stitch...my rant will be starting with "Kids these days...":

Kids these days...wtf?

Apologies to those I know, and I do respect you on many levels...but wtf?

Why is it that today's twenty-somethings seem to believe that whatever is not current is beyond their sphere of knowledge? Anything that pre-dates 1983 seems to be unknowable...and I'm being generous in saying 1983. Listen:

Last night I went to a pub close to the theatre to pick up some dinner. I walk in. I notice (in order):

- inflatable palm trees at the door
- seems to be some sort of 80s theme..but more specific
- the bartender is in white pants, white jacket, and light blue t-shirt underneath...
- ...he also has those armpit gun holsters under his jacket
- Miami Vice is playing on every TV in the joint (that alone may have started some major pukage)

I point to the bartender (from whom I intend to collect my order) and say, 'hey Crockett'

'huh?', he says

I, thinking he just didn't hear me over the din, repeat myself, 'hey Crockett'

'what?', he looks confused

I look confused

His friend makes that sweeping gesture with his hand that means, 'your outift'

'huh?', he says to his friend.

He looks more confused.

I look more confused.

His friend looks more confused and says, 'she means your costume'...or something like that. I couldn't hear.

'OOOhhh!', he says when the penny drops, 'yeah!. ha ha.'

The penny should not have taken that long to drop. I didn't know quite what to do other than giggle nervously and try to continue on with my business. Nervously, you ask? Well, because I was fighting so hard to not ask him why he forgot what his costume was. I fight these things because I intend to come back for their buffalo chicken wrap and it is a rule of mine not to piss anyone off that handles your food.

But that's just one of a myriad of examples I have of 20'ish year old people not knowing anything beyond what has happened in their lifetime. Pop-culture-wise, that is. I mean...jesus christ. The fact that it was 'before your time' is no excuse. I understand about obscure references, but c'mon.

This 80s thing is starting to freak me out, too. I watch the young girls on campus dressing like I did when I was 12.

This post is lacking it's ooomph because I'm avoiding some very specific things about specific people that I really like. So I'm going to change the subject slightly:

Another pet peeve...

I know this is nothing new, but I heard it again last night. "But you really only push a button, don't you? That can't be hard."

Some jackass was asking my male coworker this last night AFTER it was understood that I was the projectionist. And I was standing right there. Honestly, I try (really..I do) not to make things about gender, but things like this are really irritating. So, I said, 'why are you asking him when I'm the projectionist and I'm right here?'

"uh," he said, "because he probably does it when you're not around."

"no. He doesn't."

He still turns to the guy and still discusses it.

Jesus.

It's funny. I'm not sure what people think is up there. Do they think there's a big DVD player? If not...if they realize we run 35 mm...do they think that fairies come and set up and maintain the film before I go and press that button? Do they think that in all the cogs and wheels and spokes that need to turn properly in order for that film to go on screen just magically ~do~? Everytime? And if it all goes to crap, do they think that the fairies return and fix it for me?

If it's so easy, why have I wanted to quit so much because of all the things that stress me out about it?

On that front, though, I may be experiencing a small change of heart. Last night we had a packed house. This sounds trite and sappy but honestly...when you've got a group of people working together to deliver a quality product, in this case that product is entertainment, there's nothing like the feeling when it all comes out well. After the pre-show and then starting Rocky Horror last night...I walked through the theatre and saw 370 people in and out of costume laughing and smiling and enjoying themselves, that feeling that I once had about projection returned for a second.

Yeah...I just reread that. I think I'm lame, too.

isn't this where Dr. House got his start?

...or something similar?

Happy MF Halloween

Sauntered over to ol' buddy Bumf's blog early this morning just before I began my daily toilette.

Now, it was dark at 6:30'ish this morning,

and C isn't home yet,

and the class I was preparing myself for (morphology) is terrifying in it's own right,

and I had just woken up,

and I took a look at THIS.

Okay, bigshot. I know it's just a few little pictures of "ghosts". You turn off those lights and be alone and come back and tell me nothing at all bothered you about them.

I'll still think you're lying.

Thanks for the freak-out, bumf.

what I can get into when I'm avoiding work I have to do

first - hi-larious

second - I'm a bit suspect of the looky-likey face recognizing software when the main features I share with these women are a/ our faces are shiny and b/ our hair is pulled back...oh, and c/ we're all chicks.

three - this is what I look like when I spend all day trying to think of how to critique someone who's worked in his field probably since before I was born...well, the smile is a put-on

four - yeah, I knit that headband

five - my face is seriously lopsided. Like, some people have a lazy eye...I've got a lazy face.

mother and daughter conversation - take one

Mum: ".....and so W said (you remember how skinny she is) that giving birth was just like a bowel movement..."

*looks me up and down*

"...you were some bowel movement. My word."

Joey, this is for you...

"content may offend women under 35"

Is it me? It's me, isn't it? I think it's me.

I am a straight, healthy Canadian female...and yet...and yet I just cannot understand the appeal of this. Maybe that's why that warning is on there. I'm under 35. I'm not offended, but the contents of what you will see if you explore that seemoresideeffects.ca site only make me embarrassed.

I don't see the point behind male strippers, either.

Watching the men in seemoresideeffects.ca makes me, alone today in my apartment, cringe and peek between my fingers. The looks on the men's faces as they attempt to make me moist and quivering just causes a furrow in my brow and a crinkle in my nose.

It's me, I think.

UPDATE:

I gotta come back to this. I'm not through.

Okay...click on the link. First, who ever sits on their white leather couch, dressed to the nines in white and just reads a magazine. Jesus. The woman is the older, classier female version of Puddy from Seinfeld. Was it Puddy? Or Putty? Whatever, you know what I mean.

Now go to the last box of night cream. It's "The Gardener".

UGH....now everything is making me angry. Why does she moan when I run my mouse over the choices??

Anyway...get him to do the windows.

What the eff is this supposed to do for me? The way that guy cleans the windows and then aggressively flicks off the soap makes me want to aggressively punch him in the face. And what's with those faces he's making? Doesn't he have a sister and why isn't she calling him a dork right now??

And then...AND THEN...when he gets to the last window..the one that hides his "package". Am I supposed to be salivating with the hope that he's going to clean that window and we'll see his jewels? A few things: first, with the faces that guy made as he washed the rest of the damn windows, I certainly am not looking forward to seeing his soapy, wrinkly sack. As a matter of fact, I don't want to see any strange man's wrinkly sack. Honest. second, you don't have to have been around the block a bunch of times to know that the last window will never be cleaned. third, fuck off. fourth, shouldn't you be gardening? fifth, I would rather poke through my eardrums with my best knitting needles than hear that effing poem you're going to recite.

Ack! So awful!

...and boy is my brain tired

I just got back from a linguistics conference in Banff. Thoughts on the conference:

- we got there late due to "unforseen" circumstances (for 'unforseen' read 'unannounced'...fault placed squarely within my sphere of influence)

- we stayed for the morning talks. I wish I wasn't a/ tired, b/ grumpy, and c/ hungry because some of the speakers had some really cool things to say and I kept getting more and more annoyed.

(note to gentlemen: I appreciate your kindness when you get up to offer your seat when I (or other women) are left standing. However, there are limits. If the women you're graciously giving up your seat to are roughly your age or younger (and healthy and not pregnant), it's not necessary. When the room is packed full and people have to shuffle around in order to accommodate said kindness, missing precious minutes of a talk that lasts only 15 minutes, it is even less necessary. If at least 60% of these shuffling people are women..then there's really no point. Just sit your ass down.)

- we missed the afternoon. I couldn't bear to go back. Especially since nothing at the conference that afternoon had anything to do with my interests. But, that was a mistake because, you see, I would have been tired and irritated anywhere I was and I might as well have been learning something while I was tired and irritated.

Thoughts on Banff:

- I am a Calgarian. Calgarians, by their very nature, are meant to adore Banff. ADORE. I don't. I simply don't. There. I said it.

Look, I like mountains, they are very pretty. But I don't go to Banff to go hiking...I go to a mountain to go hiking, and then I go home. Banff is just a lot of shops and some pretty scenery. The scenery is very pretty. Lovely. But, I can't figure out what there is to DO in Banff. Will someone please tell me the secret to loving Banff? Once you bought fudge, why are you staying?

- I"m happy I stayed...but not because it's Banff. Only because it's somewhere pretty to stay the night and an excuse to go out for lunch, have beers in the eve with friends, and then go out for breakfast. Actually, thoughts on that:

- I wish I would have gone back to the conference...though, spending the afternoon with the ladies of linguistics was very nice. I like those girls lots and I'm glad we got a chance to hang out. But, I'm not a shopper...and wandering shop to shop really gets me tired...which eventually irritates me. Which makes me mouthy. Which makes me think I"m funny, but probably is just really me wishing I was funny. As much as I liked hanging out with the girls, I felt as though I was doing nothing. Walking up and down the tacky streets of Banff doesn't make me feel the slightest bit productive. Later, S and I went for beer and sat and talked and I finally had some strongbow induced relaxation..but it was difficult being uptight all afternoon...all day, really.

So, I'm gonna stop typing and get to work on the stuff that is making me freaky...

...another thing feminism has done for me:

Only a woman with tremendous self confidence can get away with pants like these. Ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Chaka Khan.



Maria Muldaur. Loved her since I was a baby.



Big Mama Thornton. A long since lost 'women of the blues' TV show recorded by my father and watched religiously by me as a little girl inspired the idea that girls look better in men's clothes which stayed with me for at least a decade. She wrote Hound Dog, by the way.

part 2 of pt II

legwarmers
Originally uploaded by himbly.

These are the legwarmers that i've been working on for a million years. Not that it should have taken a million years...they weren't that hard and I'm not that good to do anything that would take a million years, but after doing that small band of argyle, knitting over a foot of plain brown was SO boring.

Also...I think my legs aren't as big as I think they are. These are a bit slippy.

I guess my head isn't as big as I think it is, either.

knitting dork pt II: revenge of the dork

hat
Originally uploaded by himbly.

Real quick, before I get to the homework I"ve been putting off since 8am (it being nearly noon now), I want to show you a couple of my completed projects.

I must apologize for the crappiness of the pics. They were taken with my cell, which is crappy, for one and secondly I have to hold my breath for 3 hours in order to get even close to a clear shot. Also, the background leaves plenty to be desired, but the rest of my place is so messy that this was all I got right now.

This is the hat. The hat of many beeeautiful colours (which really don't show up well in the pic). It's a tad too big for me (still) which makes me sorta sad, but I loooove it.

I don't know how to post two pics in the same bloggy-post, so I'll have to do this all over for the legwarmers.

knitting dork

I know this is a/ dorky and b/ time wasting, but I've got to tell ya something.

Although I've got, like, 5 knitting projects on the go:

1- legwarmers for myself
2- legwarmers for AM (that I promised her ages ago)
3- octopus for C (got 4 legs done so far)

...okay, 3...whatever...the point is that although I've got these on the go and want to start a few more, I had a serious hankerin' for a new toque.

Not just ~any~ toque...no sir.

I pulled out a skein of my most expensive wool (unfortunately not featured anywhere on that website, but it's the same place). It is 75% wool, 25% silk and 100% delicious! It's a sorta stripey yarn...died different colours throughout and let me tell you...I CANNOT stop knitting this hat! I'm like this:

...oh my god, I love that shade of brown...gorgeous...wait! Wait! Is that hot hot hot pink coming up? ohhh..what are they going to look like together? Here it comes...OOOHhhhh! It's beautiful! Is that orange I see? What a crazy and brilliant orange! Here it comes...bam! So pretty! ...

and so forth...

So...then! Then! I made the mistake/incredible discovery of looking at the INSIDE of my hat in good light! It's like a flavour sensation for my eyes! I can't stop staring at the inside of this g-damn hat!

Completely at the mercy of this yarn.

Thing is..I've got no time for this. None. But I"m like putty in it's fibres.

this is weird if you think about it

Okay, so Michael Jackson...with all we know about him now (and we don't even have to go into that stuff, he's weird legally, too)...makes a video where he and his posse harrass and sorta freak out a woman on the street.

Isn't this just plain weird on many many levels?

decisions

I cried at work yesterday.

Noooo...no. Not in front of people. After things were okay, I snuck up to the office and called C to cry in his ear.

"That's the way men do it." Jennifer Marlowe to Baily Quarters WKRP 198-.

C soothed me, we discussed some options and then he let me go.

I felt like crying some more, so I called my mum. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for her, she wasn't home so I decided to buck up and do some thinkin'. Besides, my dad was probably already asleep.

This may be the beginning of the end of my "career" in film.

Or, it may be a lull.

I can't tell yet.

What I do know is that I was not expecting the amount of work involved with my choice of schooling. Holy effing crap. There is a ton. And I am very tired.

Mostly, I know, it just feels like there is a ton as I'm only, really, 3-4 weeks into it and haven't adjusted to all the things that have been thrown at me in those weeks. I'm starting to, but haven't finished, sharpening my efficiency skills...my reading skills...my attention skills (read that last part like N. Dynamite). Not to mention all those extra things you need to do if yer gonna be part of the program. Gad.

But, after a day of struggling to understand, worrying about things like being ready for Friday's class, and oh-god-I-have-to-start-my-SSRCH-application, my mind was elsewhere when I made a small mistake that cost 2 hours of straight work and delayed the movie by nearly an hour.

(Dan: I learned that you never try to rewind without the ring in. That lesson was no fun.)

That sucked and I was never so close to quitting that job in my life. I've worked there off and on since '97 and I've never come so close to finishing a shift and never coming back.

So...decisions.

My boss, afterwards, lectured me on why we never do what I did. Partly, less than half..maybe a quarter, it was his fault. But, whatever, I let him rant on at me because I did cost him money in the long run. He wasn't abusive...I think he just needed to 'get it out'. Then I told him to start looking for another person who can run the booth. I didn't quit...but I made it clear that I can't have the theatre overshadow what I"m really trying to do. Then I made it so that I wouldn't have to work this weekend.

So...decisions.

In all my born years.

My theatre used to regularly play Hindi films. I've seen some really great dancing, heard some really great music, and watched the Indian version of Mrs. Doubtfire. But I ain't seen nuttin' like this:

I adore this man.

Holy crap!

This topic is so insane that I'm surprised that I've engaged myself in it. Now, seeing that it makes me sick to my stomach to think of this as a reality (as it has been in the past), I am not certain that this isn't just a weird joke or a simple 'musing' of sorts.

I think, though, if it's just a "musing of sorts", then you should probably make that clear before you type it out and you seem like a class one a-hole with next to no ability to see where bad decisions might lead.

RightGirl wants us to consider the systematic sterilization of those people she doesn't like. It starts with "mothers who do not take care of their children" but god knows where it ends.

Do I think that some people shouldn't have children? Of course I do! Do I wish that some people could be sterilized? Yup. I do. I read this blog [linked once I can access it again] recently and some of the parents of the children he discusses...well, I wish I could have sterilized them myself. The important question is, however, do I trust anyone -individual or agency- to make this decision correctly? No. Absolutely not. There is no omlette delicious enough to account for the degree of egg breaking that would entail. There is no quick fix here. There is no easy answer. We cannot have a government that allows forced sterilization because, as another commenter put it, it is a slippery slope.

I am so anti this idea that I am surprised that anyone even comes close to considering it.

I don't know what to say. This is why I frequent these sorts of blogs. It makes me realize that issues I thought were dead and buried are actually alive and well.

why do I keep posting this type of stuff?

Another meme (is that what they're called?) I invite you to join in.

(I always find them from random blogs I never visit and forget to reference once I copy/paste it onto my own. Sorry.)

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says:

You'll be sorry ---> "Optimality Theory (Prince and Smolensky 1993, McCarthy and Prince 1993)..."

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can...what do you touch first?

I'm sensing a theme here. It's an article called Some Notes on Noun Incorporation by Jerrold M. Sadock.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

About 2 minutes of a home reno show just before I turned to my mother and said, 'there's an awful lot of home reno shows on TV.'

4. WITHOUT LOOKING, what time is it?

9:20

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?

9:27...not bad. But I looked at the time when it was about 9:15 or so.

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?

Cars. Bf typing. It's Monday, so no jackasses. If I would have done this earlier, I would have said some really effing loud guys redoing the floor of the restaurant below me.

7. When did you last step outside?

About 9:15 or so. I was just getting some work done in Starbucks and decided to come home to finish. So...then...I blogged. Ta da.

8. What are you wearing?

Oh...I'm used to seeing this typed out on msn. Ha! Bottom-up: converse, jeans, Eener's old shirt (the one with the 3 on it), and a grey zip-up sweater. Oh, and my headband that I love but is too loose.

9. When did you last laugh?

Just now when I heard bf yell, 'fuck yeah' which means he's probably playing WoW and he probably just did something awesome and I'm about to hear all about it.

10. Seen anything weird lately?

Uh. Hmm. Oh yeah...my 90 year old grandmother painted her fence with a bathbrush...though, you may have already heard (scroll down). At the cemetary, my mother and I saw a poor fella's grave who was obviously waiting for his wife...though she was born around 1884, so she's almost completely certainly dead by now and he's still waiting. Is it wrong to add we found that kinda funny at the time?

11. What did you dream last night?

I dreamt I had a dachshund that I was carrying around with me. Then I dreamt that some people who I think might be mad at me weren't mad at me. There was a couple of other things but I can't remember.

12. What's on the walls of the room you're in?

My Mr. Men painting that my cousin made for me when I was little, my degree from many years ago, a pic of me and Nanny on the train in Britian somewhere when I was 9, a whiteboard calendar, a cork board, and a print that bf and I call 'the beaver cleaver'...don't know if that's it's real name.

14. What do you think of this survey?

'salright...it's getting me away from what I should be doing and that was it's purpose.

15. What's the last film you saw?

Ha! A guy and his gf at the theatre last night said (to about 5 of us working in some capacity with the film fest), "you guys are so lucky. You get to see ALL the films AND get paid for it." This was met with rousing laughter as we all listed off how many films we saw...the average of which would be somewhere in the 0.25- 0.5 range. The gf, obviously thinking this was because we were ~not allowed~ to watch the films, suggested ways we could have 'snuck in'. Again with the laughter as we informed her that we were allowed to see any of the films..for free, even, if we wanted. The problem was the amount of work that was put into the film fest coupled with the amount of work having a regular life to support the film life entailed meant that, no, sneaking in wasn't the problem.

So...having said that, I did manage to catch a good portion of Dead Man on the monitor in the booth while I was waiting for the film I was building to wind. Great movie, btw.

16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?

A house.

17. Tell me something about you that I don't know.

You don't know?? You're my blog.
That I'm starting to get antsy that this questionaire is taking too long and I should get back to my work.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, what would you change?

Wow. Tough question. I have to get back to that one.

19. Do you like to dance?

Yup. But I can't if I hate the music.

20. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?

No idea...depends on the moment and the personality of the child...what little there is when they're newly born.

21. Boy?

see above

22. Would you ever consider living abroad?

I ~am~ a broad.
Overseas? Yes. I would.

I would have the power to lift buildings...

...if I could only harness this energy.

Yesterday I intended to read read read READ. I have eight articles that have something to do with next week and so I have to read and read and READ.

I know...I know...some of you out there (who may or may not be reading this) read eight articles in the bath while you're getting ready for your day. Let us all keep in mind that I'm new to this and for me eight articles are a whole lotta reading. I mean, Sadock (1985) is 61 pages of autolexical syntax! Good gravy! And, if my last morphology class is to be any gauge, I'm actually supposed to know what these people said.

I got stuff done yesterday and I'm happy about that, but my god. By the time I managed to sit down and start reading, it was already the afternoon and while reading, I'd find time to take 'breaks'. Lotsa breaks. Okay, I read a guy's whole blog yesterday. I mean, though, how could I not? He's a prison guard and I love the series Oz. We were a perfect blog fit yesterday. I also read most of his buddies' blogs, so I recommend them, too. Especially Bunny 'cause she's funny and even her dirty stories are pretty entertaining rather that just dirty and boring. It's interesting how she makes her ex-bf Tucker seem like an interesting, sorta decent beneath his shallow exterior kinda guy while, when it's his job to talk about himself, he just makes himself seem like a pig underneath his shallow exterior. He's kinda funny, but I'm too lazy to link him here. With my 11 per day readership I'm sure he's somehow heartbroken over that. Plus, I think my constant return to my own blog so that I can get to one of my friends' blogs is driving up my numbers.

So...today...I"m gonna try to be good. However, really, just by writing this I'm already effing my shit up.

Straw...uh...persons

In class yesterday we briefly discussed methods of argumentation. Specifically, some of the more faulty methods of argumentation. We discussed, among other things, the passion some people have for the use of a Strawman.

Strawman arguments are those where the presenter of the argument makes up a fictitious enemy. Often, that enemy is an exagerated version of those whom he/she intends to argue against. Then they go to work fighting against this fictitious enemy and when they figure they've won, they declare victory over the whole shebang. But really, they're fighting no one.

I thought back to something I saw the other day. This strawman is so huge that there's practically hippies dancing around it in the desert. My favourite part...hahaha...is the 'take that, feminists!' attitude that she and her buddies seem to take when what they're saying is an absolute crock of crap mixed with nonsense. Yes...wounded to the core are all women who gladly associate themselves with the word 'feminist'.

You want 5 things that feminism has done for me?

1- I have the right to vote and I am seen as a person in the eyes of the law.

2- I have the right to my own body. I can decide to not get pregnant, to stop a pregnancy safely, and I also have the means to fight against those who may choose to harm it. This is not a right that women around the globe have access to.

3- I have the right to pursue an education and am proud to be the student of such brilliant men and women.

4- I have the right to work without the harrassment of bosses and coworkers. I have the right to any job I am qualified for without regard to my gender (among other things).

5- I have the honour of having many male friends (and a wonderful boyfriend) who understand all these things and more besides. This, far from making them "pussies", makes them far more manly than any mullet wearing douchebag that cheats on his wife. Wait. I know plenty of douchebags that cheat on their wives that don't have mullets at all. Point being that men who accept a woman's strengths and are supporting and proud be it their daughter, sister, wife, girlfriend or friend are cool.

6- Due to my geographic location, socio-economic status, and other stuff that don't have to do with my gender anymore, I have opportunities most people in the world don't even dream of. If I work hard enough and play my cards right (and hopefully am smart enough), what I can accomplish is nearly limitless in fields my foremothers never even thought to go near. If those millions of women in a very similar situation to mine don't realize that someone before you paved that way, then they are being simply ungrateful and selfish.

...and no, with the possible exception of #5, I did not get all these things without someone fighting for them and I call the people who fought for these things feminists.

That's how Nanny rolls...

Yesterday was the 26th aniversary of my grandfather's death, so my mother and I went to pick up my grandmother and take her to the cemetery. I know this sounds like sad times but it was 26 years ago so it's less sad and more just taking my grandmother so that she could hang out at his grave and we could be there with her. She wants to go, we go...but it's not a morbid thing.

Anyway, that aside. After my class yesterday, I drove up to Mum's house and then we both went to Nanny's to pick her up. My grandmother, as many who know me already understand, is quite a woman. She just turned 90 this summer and she still lives in the same house the family lived in shortly after they moved to Canada. Incidently, my own parents moved into a house 5 blocks away just before I was born, so I attended the same school as my aunt and uncle had before they lost their Scottish accents.

No...we're not Scottish. Short answer to follow:

Nanny grew up in Poland and was moved to Germany and then moved to Scotland where she reunited with my grandfather after 8 years of war estrangement. Her first exposure to English was in Scotland...which, as you can imagine really makes for a crazy accent in Canada...and then she had a stroke 6 years ago which left her with a mild aphasia. Her words are mixed up, in a nutshell. This is my grandmother's language history and why I will be writing the way I do when I quote her. I won't do the aphasia part as you are certain to not understand me then.

(By the way, my grandmother was taken, without choice, by the German army to Germany where she continued to live as a forced labourer for the rest of the war. She was 27 and she never went back to Poland. Anyone having problems with us seeking reparations for her during the short period they were available is invited to stick a carrot in their bottoms.)

So..where was I? Yes. So, we arrive at Nanny's house and she's insisting we go out to her backyard for reasons we weren't able to figure out but dutifully trotted out there anyway. Nanny has a pretty big yard, which she adores and she truly finds energy in tending to her garden. It is surrounded by a wooden fence, built -I believe- by one of my uncles maybe a decade ago. It's held up quite well, but probably could use a coat of paint by now. If you're my grandmother, it needed a coat of paint yesterday. So...my 90 year old grandmother decided she was going to paint the durn fence. And she did...only 5 boards, but they were well and evenly painted. With a bath brush.

Yes. She painted 5 boards of her fence using the paint she found somewhere in her little metal shed (that I used to play house in countless times) and an old bathbrush. The kind that you use in the shower for your back that have soft bristles on the one side and hard knobs on the other for massaging.

Ahem. Again, because I think it bears repeating a third time. My 90 year old grandmother painted her fence with a bathbrush yesterday.

My mother, of course, protested. "Mum," she said, "we'll get someone to do it if you want it painted." Nanny just shrugged and sort of agreed. Then, after thinking about it for another minute, my mother added, "But it's fall, Mum. There's no point in doing it now, it's going to snow fairly soon."

My grandmother looked defiant as she slowly climbed the stairs back to her back porch, "I maybe no here springtime, but I wanting dis now, so I doing. You want in spring, you doing. I here today. I want today. I do today."

Mum and I looked at each other exaspirated but proud to be of this insane genetic line.

Nanny, as much as I adore the little package of pure stubborn ability, isn't the type of elderly woman that gives inspirational speeches. Most of what she says I do not enter under my internal category of 'sage advice'. But this...this little outburst I do interpret as wisdom and gladly file under the heading of 'words to live by'.

Thanks Nanny.

I swear on a stack of myspace profiles

Short post today, and very probably not well thought out.

But, I have a confession to make. You know that little link on my sidebar? The one that tells you cheerily that you, too, can click it and 'be my friend' at myspace? I'm addicted to that little underlined linked beauty.

Know why? 'Cause *deep breath*...I stalk Calgarians. I don't get out much these days. My friends, well, although there's always ~something~ going on, it's rarely due to their own stupidity because they don't have much of that anymore. None of it is the real gritty type gossip that I miss and that I used to have regular contact with through dating complete f-ups and knowing their friends. None of it is the type of gossip you can acquire 3 pints in while people watching at a crusty (yet popular) pub. Enter myspace.

I read about myspace and the total douchebags that rule it in Vanity Fair. I was, however, amazed. Like shitting, myspace is another in that list of 'great levelers'. My profile/page is just as accessable as K-Fed's and his is as accessable as Noam Chomsky's. We all had to 'sign up', we all had to gussy it up the way we wanted, we all have the option to gussy it up more, if we choose. We all write, or dont' write. We all accept friends, or don't accept friends. We're equal in this universe the internet provides us.

Then I found the pictures. Hey! I recognise that guy! Hey! I know that girl! Hey! They write stuff about their lives and, if you read between the lines, it's pure hilarity...or it's sad. Sometimes. But so is dirty, dirty gossip...which I love!

If I ruled it, though....I'd ban the option for anyone really over 18 to set it to private. Stuck up bitches.

my hair is totally psyched, yo...

I got my hair cut a couple of weeks ago.

As always, my hairdresser/friend does a great job. I was also relieved to be rid of the shapeless mess my hair had become and turned into a style.

But here's the problem. Style and I have never been close. As much as I like style, as much as I covet style's affection, style continues to shun my advances. This, as all interactions between me and style, is what happened with the breakdown of my hair.

It just was simply ~not~ doing what it was meant to. I'm ~meant~ to have my bangs mostly sweeping off to the side while an adorable little faux-bob framed my face with a gentle curl. What happens is my bangs flop in one big lump while the longer sides frizz out and make it look like I"m a basset hound.

After a jolting workshop in scholarships and a more calming meeting with my prof, I ducked into the campus salon and waited for the girl to stop being busy. She looked up, 'hi.'

"Do you see what my hair is trying to do?", I pulled and fluffed my hair to show it's intention.

"uh huh"

"What do I need to make it do that?"

She asked a busy hairstylist who looked at me and said, "this stuff". Bed Head. Okay. Apply it at the end when my hair is dry. Alright, I'm game.

I bought it and did the rest of the stuff in my day.

It's morning now and I'm getting ready for my class. Showered, put in a little bit of stuff to give my hair some body and then waited for my hair to dry for the finishing touch.

I wrenched open the little blue sphere that contained this elixir of hair control (but not too much control) and what greeted me was a little message on the plastic throw-away cap.

"It's off the hook!"

Really? Wow. That makes me feel so much better. Because I was just standing here in my bathrobe with this strange new container in my hands nervous that what I actually was holding was a symbol of the corporate fuddy-duddies that don't speak to ~me~ as a hip, young(ish) person. I was nervous I was going to end up with my mother's hair...or worse, my grandmother's! I was nervous that you didn't ~get~ me and that this misunderstanding between us would make a mockery of me for the rest of the day. But, then, I saw your little message to me and the use of my slang told me that, you know, we're friends. In a different situation, me and this little plastic sphere would be going out, drinking, having fun. Shopping, maybe. Sure...it understands what would look good on me. Whew. I'm glad we cleared that up.

Hair stuff works fine, by the way...but I threw the note in the trash.

it's late...

...and I just marked 2/3rds of 64 assignments carefully printed out by the cute little hands of 64 baby linguists. Awww.

I was thinking today. Two events have passed by. Two events that I would have thought I'd have some sort of opinion or comment. But nothing. I don't want to comment on them. I think, however, I do want to comment on why I don't want to comment.

Pope Benedict. Funny. I know what he said. I know where it was said and why it was said and why ~he~ said it was said. I haven't delved that deeply...it was easy to find out all those things with minimal effort. What do I think? Meh. What is there to think?

Now...I realize that violence broke out and my 'meh' is not in any way meant to down grade or trivialize the impact made my his comments. But it's hard for me to make a comment about something that was so obviously going to happen. Pope Bulldog's job is to say that there are none better than Catholics. I know that's not what he said, but he was thinkin' it. What is not Pope Bulldog's job is finding a way into the hearts and souls of Muslims everywhere and be beloved by those who worship differently. So, do I think his words were very enlightened? No...not particularly. Do I ever really find papal words to be that inspirational or 'on-the-money'? Nope. Did I see this coming? Well, probably I would have had I thought about it...but no. I didn't. But it didn't surprise me.

Now, I've not kept up since the 'apology'...but I have heard that he's mentioned that this ancient text he quoted are not his thoughts but simply his recitition of what another man said about Mohammed, lo so many years ago. As a cardinal, Papa Ratzinger was a professor...not sure of what, but I'm guessing theology. He was one of the top advisors to JPII and, let's face it, you don't just 'get' to be pope. It's like any other top position...strategy, kiddo. Strategy. My point: he's not dumb. So, I'm having a difficult time figuring why he would quote this ancient text without thinking that it would be at least ~taken~ to be his own beliefs. Not sure...would need to do a bit more research on that.

Anyway...it causes violence. He probably should have thought to phrase things differently...those who are rioting should probably stop to think exactly what they are doing and I think we saw the whole mess before when it was drawn in 12 panels of cartoon hilarity (for 'hilarity' read 'lame-ity').

Now...on to Kimveer Gill.

Sad. Sad sad sad sad. Tragic. Awful. I felt a knot in my stomach when I heard.

He's dead. Shot himself, it turns out. So....there's nothing we can do about him. Let him pass because there are far more important people to focus your energy on. The victims and the families of the victims...and, let's give a thought to the Gill family themselves as, as far as we know, they were devastated by the horror their son caused.

These things are terrifying, but we can't let the insane acts of the occassional individual stop us from living our lives and taking the paths we have chosen.

Well..I was going to continue on, but I'm very tired now and bed is looking very inviting. Talk to you kids later.

gettin' the ol' creative juices flowin'

I know I sound like a big ol' whiney baby, but really my "new" life has hit me like a ton of bricks stuffed in a really big sock and swung by a very attractive giant. Things are starting to find their own groove now, but until then, I'm pretty much void of blog topics. Well, I"m not, but I don't know what to say about the stuff I'm thinking.

Until then...another one of these lame 'found it on another blog' things:

YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: ( pet and current street name): Phoenix Fourth
YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your moms side, your favorite candy): Zosia Truffle
YOUR "FLY Guy/Girl" NAME: (first initial of last name, first three letters of your middle name): A. Lou
YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal): [my favourite things never stick, unless they're food...so I'm going to pick the name of my fave yarn colour for the day and an animal I really like] Lettuce Monkey
YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born): Louise Calgary <--- lame
YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, first 2 letters of mom's maiden name and first 3 letters of the town you grew up in.): Arcstpiacal <--- that defies so many phonological rules of English, I just don't know
SUPERHERO NAME: ("The", your favorite color, favorite drink): The Green Water
NASCAR NAME: (the first name of both your grandfathers): This is not going to sound Nascar ---> Ludwick Harold
FUTURISTIC NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne and the name of your favorite shoes): [currently my fave scent is a mixture of cedar, basil, and lavendar oils and my fave shoes have been worn so much that the brandname is unreadable...so...] Cedar Basil Lavendar Winners -or- CBL Winners
WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother/father's middle name ) Antonina Roy


Well..that was fun. Back to reading.

Academic Girls don't notice when you get your hair cut.

Actually, that's not true. Academic girls in my field don't notice when you get your hair cut. My MGIS academic girl did...but she's finished, so maybe that's why she's able to see trivial stuff again. ha.

I did it. One week of my MA and I finally feel like I'm okay. No more panic attacks, just a little, 'oh my god, can I do this?' but right now, I'm either delusional, or I'm feeling pretty good. Of course, there's not much homework this weekend, so we can take that into account.

All the people I am sharing this grad school experience are great, it seems. I am also lucky enough to have one PhD that I've completely clicked with and hung out with all summer...she is lovely. Another PhD student is a girl I did my undergrad with; it's nice to talk about the olden days with her because I remained in contact with none of the BA people. The new PhD is also very sweet. As for the MAs, I know one from last year and quite like her and the other two are very cool people. Yes...if you've been doing the math, the linguistics grad students total to 7. Small, but adventageous for us. I won't be freaked out talking in class or presenting my papers with only 4 or 5 people in the room.

I've spent much of last week and part of this week feeling as though I was submerged and the top of the water was about 5 inches over my head. In my first class, my prof was going to as all four of us where our intrests lie so he could tailor the course to meet our needs. Suddenly, I was gripped in panic. What was I interested in? How could I answer that question? What if I say something stupid? I don't know what I"m interested.....wait...uh...yes I do. I know exactly what I'm interested in. Wait! I can answer this question intelligently!! Hurrah! I AM GRAD STUDENT!

Then I stood up on the table and thumped my chest. For good measure.

Okay, I didn't, but it almost made me giggle out loud when I felt the panic rising and subsiding so quickly.

I'm just chillin'...like Bob Dylan

I know these things are a lame excuse for a post, but I've had a hard couple of days and feel like it:

(I'm sorry...I don't remember where I got this)


My Autobiography (meme)
Fill this out in your own words and repost as, "My autobiography."

1.Where did you take or get your profile picture?
On a site for Chinese propagand art. I just love that stuff...especially the space babies. Like these.

2.What exactly are you wearing right now?
*looking down*...working from the bottom up: slippers, an old cotton light blue plaid skirt, a light blue long sleeve tee, and this stupid head band I knitted that I love, but is -frankly- ugly.

3.What is your current problem?
YOU!

naw...but, you know, if I start tellin', I might not stop. I've had a rouuugh day.

4.What makes you most happy?
good things. Especially if I do 'em.

5.What's the name of the song that you're listening to?
The theme music to the Alliance capitol of Stormwind. Okay, not right now I'm not, but that's the last song I listened to. Except perhaps the faint music coming up from the restaurant below, but I have no idea what song that is.

6.Has anyone you've been really close with passed away?
No...*knocking wood*. That shit gives me cold sweats.

7.Do you ever watch MTV?
No TV takes care of that question.

8.What's something that really annoys you?
When I can't do what I want (if I think it's reasonable).

Chapter 1:All About You

1.Middle name:
Louise

2.Nickname(s):
Lot's of 'em. Bf (and some of his friends) call me Kitten. Father calls me PooHead.

3.Current location:
Mayhem

4.Eye color:
White, blue, black

Chapter 2:Family

1.Do you live with your parents:
I wish. Well, no I don't, but it would be easier.

2.Do you get along with your parent(s):
Yup, both of 'em. I probably call both of them more often than I do any of my friends. Wow, that sounds lame when you type it out.

3.Are your parents married/separated/divorced:
Divorced. And how!

4.Do you have any Siblings?:
Does imaginary count? My mum wants to adopt this kid in Peru...

Chapter 3: favorite...

1. Ice Cream:
For C's b-day, we went to My Favourite Ice Cream Shop and had sundaes. I got chocolate and vanilla ice cream with all the toppin's and I've not been able to stop thinking about it since.

2.Season:
Summer and Fall

3.Shampoo/conditioner:
Aveda....very recently made the switch. I don't know if I can go back to the cheap Mane & Tail crap.

Chapter 4: Do You..

1.Dance in the shower:
Yes. Oh, I thought you said pee. Dance, no. What? With these two left feet? I'd be calling an ambulance!

2.Write on your hand:
Boy howdy! Do I? Black Mana calls my hand my 'dayplanner'. If it's something I have to remember in a few days, I write it in indelible ink!

3.Call people back:
I want to discuss this for a sec. I swear I have phone anxiety and it is so difficult for me sometimes to call people back. I really really try...but I'm SO bad at it. I am, however, an email queen.

4.Believe in love:
Yeah...duh. But it comes in many forms.

5.Sleep on a certain side of the bed
Not really. Whichever side is up for grabs. C needs to sleep on a certain side of the bed!

6. Any bad habits:
Really...we don't have all day to list my bad and disgusting habits.

7. Any mental health issues?
You tell me.

Chapter 5: Have You...

1.Broken a bone:
Fractured, yes. Broken, no.

2.Sprained stuff:
Not seriously. Like, I've never gone to a dr for it.

3.Had physical therapy?:
Nah.

4.Gotten stitches:
No. I'm starting to think I was raised in a padded cell. Oh..wait...do after surgery stitches count?

5.Taken Pain killers?
Recreationally? Or for real?

6.Gone SCUBA diving or snorkeling:
Ha...funny story. But no.

7.Been stung by a bee:
Yeah...once when I was a kid, we had a bees nest in the wall of our house and bees were getting into our basement, so I took it upon myself to remove them because I was a total insect loving kid (meaning, loving to dismember them in the name of science) so every day for a few weeks I would catch the bees and let them outside (I think I was too scared to get close enough to kill them). Anyway...one day I forgot they could sting and grabbed one with my fingers. Pride before the fall. The End.

8.Thrown up at the dentist:
No. Thrown stuff at a dentist.....no, that neither.

9.Sworn in front of your parents:
I'm counting the really bad words as swearing. Probably I've slipped up in front of my mother, but I really really try not to. My dad, I can swear but I can only say the f-word and related items when I'm quoting someone or I'm really really upset.

10.Had detention:
I think only once...but not after school detention. We used to have a friday afternoon movie thing at our school. You couldn't go if your name was put into, what they called, 'the black book' that week. I only got my name in the black book once in all of elementary and that wasn't my fault. Mrs. Pelzner (sp?) was a mean bitch.

I did, however, get myself banned from the home ec. room in grade 9. There is something ironic there that I'm not able to tease out yet.

11.Been sent to the principal's office:
Nah. I was really good. Oh wait...in high school, I think I got sent to the VP office.

12.Been called a ho?
Umm...I don't know people who use the word 'ho' that regularly. Maybe I have. I'm sure I've been called a lot of things.

Chapter 6: Who/What was the last

1.Movie(s):
Rocky Horror Picture Show...see previous posts for that little disaster story.

2.Person to text you:
Black Mana. His last text ended with the words, "...I fill the room with laughter and crap." hehehehe...that still breaks me up.

3.Person you called:
My father.

4.Person you hugged:
C...then I tried to give him a wedgie.

5.Person you tackled?
Tickled or tackled? My grandmother...both things.

6.Thing you touched:
keyboard. Before that, mouse. Before that, my face.

7.Thing you ate:
A comfort salad. However, I was so stressed when I ate it that I felt sick afterwards.

8.Thing you drank:
water. I'm thirsty now.

9.Thing you said:
*coming back from kitchen*..."Aaaahhhhhh"

10.Friend you miss the most that has moved:
Oh man...really, it's a toss up between Ivana, Black Mana, and Anita. But I miss all my friends that have moved.

misc.

So.

Here I am. It's 10:03 on a 'work day' and I'm not at work. Though I am not 'unemployed' in the complete sense, I am 'unemployed' in the more than partial sense of the word. Friday was the last day of receiving those types of cheques where you can throw a little into savings, throw a little at some debt, pay bills, buy those things that are essential and then use the rest for buying those things that are not essential.

what have I done?

Actually, even though I kept waking up this morning and thinking to myself, 'do I get up? no, I have nowhere to go. But I should still get up. But I don't have to....' and on and on until I finally did get up and was dressed before C had left for work, I'm not really that freaked out. I guess planning this since 2004 kinda takes the edge off.

It's still weird, though.

If you read my comments in the last post, you pretty much by now know why Sunday night was a freakout. All things worked out at the end, but I armed myself with a full watergun when people left the theatre lest someone mention the shitty projection that night. It sat in my lap in full view of everyone who passed on their way out. A defiant look sat on my face.

no it didn't. The look, that is. I was smiling. But the water pistol indeed was there and I was ready to use it.

It occurs to me now how surreal it must've looked to have my collegue Phil and I hastily dismantling our trusty FP30 projector bathed in sweat from the heat and panic with me in jeans and a t-shirt and Phil in fishnets and a corset. I adore absurdity and I'm gloriously happy that absurdity seems to like me just fine. It at least likes to spend time with me occasionally.

Anyway...what now? I've taken a 2 1/2 week break from reading and now I've got to get back on it. School starts on Monday and all things are cool. I think I was successful in getting those ducks in rows and training them to guard the shit in piles.

Shout out to the main man Dan who managed to get himself out of this fair city and a good few kilometers into his new adventure! Happy trails, my friend. Good thing you were gone 'cause it could have been you that was on the receiving end of a panicked phonecall at 12:30 am!

"You only just press a button, really...how hard can it be?"

After a night like tonight...


.
.
.


in fact, a summer like this summer

.
.
.


....anyone who says the above quote -or a moderation thereof- to any projectionist (and I've heard a few myself)...I hearby tell you to go soak your head and suck a dozen eggs.

A Bit of Fry & Laurie on language

Goodnight Moon...

Today I got my nightguard. This little baby and me are gonna see if we can't stop me grinding my teeth so durn much.

I was all excited 'cause I won't be grinding my teeth so durn much (as mentioned above)...so my headaches might go away...and my teeth won't be so sensitive...and my jaw joints will stop deteriorating...so I'll be happier...

and I thought that I would look like my friends who have these sorts of things. They pop them in and they look cute as little buttons. Their mouths protrude just enough so you can tell it's not usual for them, and they have these little lisps and you just want to pinch their cheeks and kiss their foreheads.

How disapointing...

I just look like a dork.

Get out! The calls are coming from inside the house!!

The masking tape splicer I talked about not so long ago?

yeah...I know who it is.






I'm devastated.

merkley???

Merkley??? is funny.

Merkley??? is hella stylish.

Merkley??? is a fantastic photographer.

and Merkley???, like me, hates to get punched in the arm pretty hard by people who he doesn't recognize.

Merkley??? is a complete stranger, by the way, but he's allowed me to link his lovely post.

Merkley??? made me feel better about all the people I a/ forget I know and b/ don't bother to get to know.