Back to the old way

I'm kind of getting sick of the whole "composition" style of blogging.

It's starting to seem too much for other people and a lot less for myself which is why I've been geeking out on here for so long anyway.

So for now, I'm going back to the old way. Less boxes, less walls.

It's kind of reflective of life right now, I think.
It may be a result of biological events approaching, but it seems that those walls that went up almost a year ago are dissolving. It's not a good thing. It's like someone ripped off the bandaid too quickly. Like the bubble wrap's been taken off and now I'm feeling every bump, every scrape. Things aren't as meaningless. I am not so unaffected.

Maybe I just have to get over this "hump" before I get to that healthy balance.

My nails are at that stage right now. Long enough to get all that gross dirt and crap in it, but not long enough to look pretty. But I know that if I can just hold out a little longer and not bite them off, they can get pretty glamourous.

Fair Warning

This past Friday, I awoke to the smell of burning.

At first I dismissed it in my groggy state and willed myself to drift back out of conciousness.
Unfortunately, a short time later I found myself coughing and unable to tolerate the intense burning smell that was filling my bedroom. I don't know what took me so long but I finally panicked, leapt out of bed and flung open the door to a hallway filling with smoke wafting from the lower level.

"SOMETHING'S BURNINGGGGG!!!!!" I yell.

The story is pretty anticlimatic. It turns out that my mom had severely burnt some toast in our super-defective toaster. Days later, the smell of burning is still lingering. Yum.

What worries me is that our fire alarm didn't go off at all that morning.
Which basically means if a real fire were to start in my house, I would likely die.

Not to mention, someone should really inform the three people who are shacking up in my house for the week:

Warning: Toaster and fire alarm out of order. Permanent residents take no responsibility for resulting injuries and or deaths.

Theme song love

John Mayer : New Deep

I'm so alive
I'm so enlightened
I can barely survive
A night in my mind
I've got a plan
I'm gonna find out just how boring I am
And have a good time

Cause ever since I tried
Trying not to find
Every little meaning in my life
It's been fine
I've been cool
With my new golden rule

Numb is the new deep
Done with the old me
And talk is the same cheap it's been

Is there a God?
Why is he waiting?
Don't you think of it odd
When he knows my inner dwellings?
And look at the stars
Don't it remind you just how feeble we are?
Well it used to, I guess

(*)

I'm a new man
I wear a new cologne and
You wouldn't know me if your eyes were closed
I know what you'll say
'This won't last longer than the rest of the day'
But you're wrong this time

Numb is the new deep
Done with the old me
I'm over the analyzing
Tonight

Stop trying to figure it out
Deep will only bring you down
You know, I used to be the back porch poet with a book of rhymes
Always open knowing all the time I'm probably
Never gonna find the perfect rhyme
For 'heavier things'

A Tragic Loss

Does anyone else have that perfect pair of jeans?

The ones that make you feel comfortable yet confident, match with everything you own, and are worn again and again because you'd choose wearing them two maybe three days in a row rather than break out a cleaner (but less well loved) pair?

My denim of choice? Jacob Connexion. Dark wash. Stretch. Ahhh.

I love them so much that I continued wearing them even after they started wearing holes.

Sadly though, the holes are now too visible to ignore and I've been forced to retire them.

And although I'm looking forward to shopping for a replacement pair of "perfect jeans", I'm not looking forward to breaking the new one's in.

This Is Likely Why I am Wedding Dateless

I am gross.

My hair is stringy and is attaching itself to my sticky neck, further trapping the heat from this sauna-like bedroom against me.

My head hurts. My breasts hurt. Actually my entire body is sluggish and sore-- torn between taking today's second shower and staying right where it is. Unmoving. Perhaps forever.

It is impossible to fall asleep and somehow (stupidly), I find myself sitting in front of a bowl of Clam Chowder. Not good Clam Chowder, I might add! And I'm wrestling with yet another difficult choice:

Q: Do I choose the repulsiveness of actually eating this fishy paste or the guilt of dumping it out while less fortunate individuals go hungry?

A: Answer found on page I-hate-this-time-of-the-month.

It's not what it looks like...

Here's the scenario:

You are a waiter at East Side Marios.
Every Monday night, two asian girls come in to the bar to order half price wings.
They giggle a lot. A lot.
One of these nights, you see two other girls stroking eachother at the bar.
A few times you pass by the asian girls' table and hear snippets of their conversation:
"...where we should have the wedding... the church is too small!" ... "You're my date to..."
At the end of the meal, you ask if they want the bills seperate or together.
"Together." Says the girl on the left as she whips out her debit card.

True story.

Bee and I are a bit worried that the waiter at East Side's thinks we're an item. We're always there. We're always giggling. And last week, when an actual same sex couple was there as well, I happened to pay for Bee's drink.

Today we watched a basketball game together and contemplated whether or not Bee should be my date to an upcoming wedding. If it happens, I imagine the wedding reception will be yet another interestingly misinterpreted scenario for on-looking wedding guests.

"Are you a friend of the bride or groom?"
"Neither... I'm her date."
"Oh!..." *Trying to figure out when Jasmine came out of the closet.*

Goal Setting

I get what I want.
(I know I sound like a princess (ok, so I am one), but it's true.)

I don't always know what I want. But when i do, i have a strong urge to get it and will persevere in doing so. Unfortunately, these are usually very meaningless goals for the purpose of instant gratification.

Last week it was Black Cherry Icecream. This weekend, it was going to see Harry Potter.

My quest began on Wednesday where after much whining and pleading, Bee and Andrew still refused to see it with me. They don't like Harry Potter. And I think Bee had had enough childish behaviour for one evening. (hehe)

Thursday: Kat had promised her cousins she'd wait for them. Esther, unfortunately had already promised another group of people she'd go with them. She invited me, but I have high standards. I don't spend my time with just anybody you know.
Friday came. And tonight I decided, enough is enough! I'm seeing it tonight and that's that. So I called Joanna in Toronto; "Come up and see Harry Potter with me!". That was an almost. Wallace wanted to see it tomorrow.

But I wanted to go tonight! And so I did. With my sister. And it was good.

So there.

Eat-Over

This summer, Bee, Andrew, and I have been have had quite a few "eat-overs".

I call them eat-overs because they always start with food. No exceptions.
They start with food and then continue on to ... well, more food.


Tonight the items consumed included:
- 3 bbq boneless rib things
- 2 scoops of chocolate vanilla swirl soft-serve icecream
- 1 can of Chunky beef stew
- 1 can of WInnie the Pooh Heinz Pasta
- 1 Delissio (not delivery) pepperoni pizza

Maybe it's something about combining hot summer nights with a lot of eating that does something weird to our brains, because the night almost inevitably will progress to hours of hilarious but (very) un-intelligent conversation or creating Mii's in the likeness of certain "interesting" individuals.

And the next thing we know, the sun's rising again signaling another successful eat-over.

(As well as triggering the ever-lingering question of why on earth we wasted so many precious sleep hours away doing that... again.)

Fresh Face

I thought it was about time for a little change.

What do you get when you cross the laziest person in the world with the most scatterbrained?

My nails are long right now. (Relatively.)

My bookshelf and closet are clean-- and now for the floor and the desk. It's greuling work, you know.

I'm spending the long weekend with my three favourite people, also known as kreazeless. <3 I am a happy girl. Five nineteen. Enough said.

Extreme Makeover : My Home Edition

[the before photo]



... ahem, yeah. alot to do still. Step one? Clean the damn thing. *sigh*

Couple things about June

Save the environment. (Or at least try.)

Be careful. I'm moody.

I still haven't seen pirates.
Waiting for people is tiring, and so is trying to get people together. So i'm trying to decide how lame it would be to see it by myself.

I love this song:

rilo kiley : the frug

Prince Charming: You! You can't lie! Where is Shrek?
Pinocchio: Well, uh, I don't know where he's not.
Prince Charming: You don't know where Shrek is?
Pinocchio: On the contrary,
Prince Charming: So you do know where he is!
Pinocchio: I'm possibly more or less not definitely rejecting the idea that I undeniably
Prince Charming: Stop It!
Pinocchio: Do or do not know where he shouldn't probably be. If that indeed wasn't where he isn't!

spectrums of pain

When I was around eight or nine years old, a few friends (Jo, Heidi, and Wallace) and I were playing baseball in the yard of the Catholic elementary school adjacent to my block. Our version of 'baseball' wasn't always consistent, but it generally consisted of my yellow, wooden baseball bat and a tennis ball. We used our hats or jackets as bases. Usually there was a pitcher and no defined teams. Every kid for themself.

This particular day, I remember, the game had ended and we were heading back to my house for dinner. Heidi was swinging the bat around as we walked. I recall bending down to tie my shoe and when I caught up she must not have heard me because the next thing I heard was the crack of that solid wooden bat colliding HARD with my right hip-bone. I know I collapsed right onto the ground and couldn't speak for a few moments but maybe a minute later I was back on my feet and lightly making my way back to my house. I didn't even cry. I think I actually laughed when we were back at my house. There ended up being a WICKED bruise that spanned the size of my hand but nothing else. Weird, eh?

I think I have a very large physical pain threshold. I've ran around on a sprained ankle (which is why my ankles are so messed up now), and over the many times my right earhole has closed up, I consistently grit my teeth and force the earring in anyway, dabbing away the blood like sweat.

Sorry. I know I'm grossing people out. The point is, I have a high tolerance for physical pain, but my tolerance for emotional pain is greatly lacking. I cry easily over emotional hurts, I miss people easily, I run away from things I don't want to deal with, things that seem too hard. Part of me wishes that my emotional tolerance and physical tolerance would swap places. Wouldn't life be easier to live that way? Instead of building emotional walls, I could just try harder not to fall on my face or let my earholes close up. And to stay out of the way of baseball bats.

Which is far easier when you're twenty than when you're eight.

Michael Buble : Everything



"and in this crazy life, and through these crazy times... it's YOU, it's you, you make me sing. You're every line, you're every word, you're everything."

purchase potentials

Sitting around at Bee's burning time and found something I want:





C'est moi!

summer days

Waterloo is boring.

Boring enough that I am choosing to-- get this --attend class. Haha... currently, I am relaxing in the dimly lit lecture hall in EIT in Laura's marketing class. :P -- Maleck is the prof and I'd forgotten the actually entertaining quality of his voice and this class is reminiscent of econ220 except it's way better considering its not 8:30am.

The funnest thing I can find to do lately is eat. With friends, mind you. ... So i have about 8 friends in Waterloo this term. Count'em -- 1. Kat 2. Laura 3. Janna 4. Bernice 5. Andrew 6. Alice 7. Steph 8. Nicole (disclaimer-- if i forgot you, it's probably just because i don't really hang out with you often. not that i don't consider you as a friend.) And I only really hang out with 4 of them.

And have you ever tried to find actually entertaining things to do in Waterloo? Trust me its not an easy task. At least during the day. Options? Basically all i do is eat.
Starbucks, Morty's, Chill&Grill, Mikey's... um yeah.

Someone entertain me. -_-

About Me
*updated my 'About Me' section on facebook and felt like sticking it on here.

I recently stopped biting my nails, but sometimes revert back to my old habits.

Some people say I'm a bit of a drama queen and I have two ways to cope with my wild influx of emotion:
1. Draw
2. Eat

I'm easily bought. And honest (mostly).

Current addictions include Tazo iced tea and Youtube.

Oh. And I'm redecorating my room this summer if I get around to finally getting it cleaned.

I L♥VE TORONTO!

- i'm just a city girl at ♥.

Ana Free: Cover of Bic Runga's Sway

"And there's no cure, no way to be sure why everything's turned inside out, instilling so much doubt. It makes me so tired. I feel so uninspired. My head is battling with my heart, my logic has been torn apart."